Goat Days (14 page)

The next day Ibrahim Khadiri woke us up long before dawn, ‘Let’s walk before it gets hot.’

My swollen legs were heavy as an elephant’s as I got up. Ignoring the pain, we dragged our feet through the loose sand. After we walked a short distance, the sun appeared on the eastern arch. We knew that it would set the sand ablaze.

The sky seemed like an upturned grey-blue basket covering us from above. One side of it began at some corner of the desert. It gradually went up to reach its high point above my head and then slowly came down to its rim in another corner. We were like chickens trapped inside that basket. Somehow, we had to lift it and get outside. But to do that we had to at least reach its rim. A rim that, despite all the walking, we had so far failed to reach. A sense of endlessness engulfed us. Nothing registered in my view but the sheer blue of the sky and the blazing sun.

‘Don’t panic,’ Ibrahim consoled us. ‘The horizon is merely two and a half miles from us. And perhaps just beyond that is the path we are looking for. Don’t get dejected, walk with hope. Once we get tired, we will fall down under this sun for the rest of the day. So walk as well as you can, even if it is a struggle. We have to find a secure place as soon as possible.’

After walking for a while, we came across the signs of a river that had drained into the desert long ago. I was amazed. In that burning heat it was difficult to imagine that a river once ran through these sands. But its lines were still distinct. I visualized how men in the past stood on its shore and drowned while trying to cross it. At the same shore where they died swallowing water, I suffered as my parched throat cried for a drop of water. How far is that moment in the past from my situation? What might have happened in the interim? I imagined the river slowly drying up and the living beings in it gradually perishing. I could hear the trees and shrubs on its banks lament for water. Time, how strange is your face!

By then we had spent two nights and a day and a half without a drop of water on our tongues. We could barely keep our eyes open. We walked in a state of half sleep. When we crossed all boundaries of tolerance
of our condition, Hakeem began to moan for water. The problem is we are used to excessive use of water. Man can easily survive without food or water for up to fourteen days. ‘Try to walk thinking about Allah,’ Ibrahim admonished him.

But Hakeem kept on asking for water. All along the way. After walking for some more time, he grabbed my hand. ‘No, ikka. I can’t. You carry on. Let me lie down here.’

I scolded him, ‘Hakeem, don’t give up. Don’t fall down. Walk.’ Then I chanted to him, ‘Allahu Akbar. Allahu Akbar.’ He repeated along with me, ‘Allahu Akbar.’ It was as if that chant and its resonance brought us a new strength. With that energy we walked for a while longer. Then slowly our walk began to lose its vigour and vitality. Our weary legs would not take us any further. We were so exhausted that numbness and pain overwhelmed us. The skin of our feet had become sore from the heat of the sand. Hakeem’s feet were already swollen. But drawing on his remaining strength he dragged his legs and tried to go on. Within the next few seconds, we realized to our horror that it was not possible any more.

Worn out, Hakeem fell to the ground. As if I had been waiting for him to fall, I also lay down near him.
Ibrahim scolded us, ‘Get up. This rest will only make you tired. It will not refresh you. This sun will drain the last drop of water from your body. Don’t fry your body like this in the sand, just go on for a bit longer. The sand will get cool. The desert cools fast. Then you can rest. Haven’t we endured this long enough? Hold on for just a bit longer.’

‘Off you go, dog!’ Hakeem cried in anguish. ‘Have you got us out to be killed? Is this what you had promised us? We were better off in the masara. Even the arbab’s torture was not as bad as this. I can’t! I am tired. Let me die if I have to. You can save yourself if you want.’

I saw Ibrahim Khadiri’s eyes getting wet for the first time during that journey. Helplessly, he raised his hands to the heavens. Then he knelt down and prayed.

The desert was boiling. I felt as if I was lying in Allah’s frying pan. Still, that rest after the long trek brought me relief. Initially I found the heat unbearable. But after lying like that for some time, I got used to it. By then, the sun, the desert and I were equally hot. What remained distinct was the insatiable thirst. But there was no way to quench it. Even the last drop of spittle in my mouth had dried long ago. I beat my
breast and cursed my foolishness for not taking a little water in a bottle or some vessel before we ran away. We had left at a moment when all sense had deserted us. Now we had to face the consequences. What else to do?

We realized that what Ibrahim had said was true. The longer we rested, the more tired our bodies became and the more stubbornly they refused to revive. Darkness entered my eyes. I became dizzy. I vomited twice. After a while, Hakeem also vomited. Ibrahim removed his clothes and tried to make some shade for us with them. But that too was inadequate. He tried to raise us up and make us sit. But we just flopped down. I slipped into a deep sleep. Hakeem and I lay there like two stray dead bodies. If he wanted, Ibrahim could have deserted us and found a route to escape. But he kept watch over us till we opened our eyes when it was finally night.

My throat was aflame when I woke up. But where was the water to soothe it? Allah, how much water have I wasted back home! Now I am begging for a drop of it. I realize the greatness of my homeland. Is this, Allah, the punishment for that waste? Forgive me!

Water. I realized how precious it is.

Writers in every language and religion have seen the desert as a space for enlightenment and spiritual revival. There are writings that suggest life in the desert can create an explosion of knowledge in the brain. But the desert did not revive me in any way. I lived in the desert for more than three years. Then I tried crossing it. All through, the desert gave me nothing but grief and frustration. Maybe the desert gave spiritual knowledge to those who came seeking it. I didn’t set out to look for anything, so I got trapped. It must have decided that it had nothing to offer me.

With no idea of where we were going, we wandered in the desert for another two days. We didn’t get anywhere. Nobody saved us. By then we were absolutely tired. The blisters on our feet from walking on the hot sand burst. The swelling had gradually spread to our knees. Unbearable burning. Pain. It
must have been about afternoon that day when Hakeem, who had been walking quietly, suddenly rushed forward, shouting ‘Water! Water! Allah, water!’

I stared fearfully in the direction in which he was running. I guessed, even with my little experience of travelling in the desert, that it was a mirage. I called him back. But, without heeding my cries, Hakeem ran forward shouting like a madman. Ibrahim and I ran after him and caught him. By then he was frothing at the mouth. Blood was dripping from his nose. I wiped his face with my clothes and we forced him to sit down. He told me he was feeling dizzy. After some time he began to make strange gestures. Suddenly he sprang up like a person who had contracted rabies and ran away.

We ran after him. After running for a while, he fell down exhausted. Then he began to cry very loudly. He pushed us away when we went to catch him and began to eat hot sand. Although Ibrahim and I tried to stop him, he shrugged us off with demonic strength and kept eating sand. Then, he started vomiting. There was nothing Ibrahim or I could do. We were helpless. After vomiting for some time, Hakeem began to spit blood. He writhed in the sand like a beaten snake. His
eyes bulged out. More blood began to ooze from his nostrils and mouth along with froth and foam.

‘Ibrahim, do something! My Hakeem will die now,’ I cried. ‘Allah, my Lord, Lord of all the worlds, Let nothing happen … Let nothing happen to my Hakeem! Please protect him,’ I prayed beating my breast.

I looked at the heavens. The flaming sun met my eyes.

I went to Ibrahim again, crying, ‘Do something Ibrahim …’ He sat unmoving and in my anguish I hit him and kicked him and spat on him.

‘We can’t do anything but leave Hakeem to Allah’s care,’ Ibrahim cried. I had never seen Ibrahim look so helpless.

I was shattered. I sank down, closing my eyes. I couldn’t watch Hakeem’s convulsions. His grunts and shudders lasted for a little while. Slowly, I opened my eyes and glanced at him. He was lying there staring at me. He was trying to say something. I ran to him. ‘Dear Hakeem, don’t worry!’ I took him into my lap. His eyes moved once. Then slowly they became still. A pall of darkness spread over my brain. A deathly fatigue overcame my body. I blacked out.

When I opened my eyes, I was hanging from Ibrahim Khadiri’s shoulder like a dead body. The
desert was blowing a furious dust storm. Even taking a step forward was difficult. Still, Ibrahim was carrying me on his shoulders and running fast. I couldn’t understand why he was running like that. But I was so exhausted that I couldn’t get down.

I looked around me as I hung on. There was some movement behind the sand dune. Wondering what it was, I looked carefully. The movement wasn’t behind the sand dune, it was the sand dune that was moving. Like a wave comes from the far corner of the sea, a sand wave was moving in from the desert. And behind that came other huge waves. I felt that we were not standing in a desert, but on a beach. The topography was constantly changing before my eyes. The sand dunes would rise up and fall down and vanish into thin air.

‘Shut your eyes tightly,’ Ibrahim screamed. He put me down and hugged me close. ‘Don’t move!’ We stood there embracing each other. Within a few moments, the fringe of a wave came and touched us. I could feel the hot sand burning my face, body and hands. I don’t know how long we had to remain like that in that cave of sand. When I was sure the wind had subsided, I slowly opened my eyes and looked. Embracing me was a sand figure! There was only
dust in the air. I couldn’t see anything ahead. Sand everywhere. We were almost waist deep in sand. More than that, what amazed me was the fact that the sand mountain in front of me had moved ahead. As if a map had been redrawn in front of us. A mountain like that one have buried my Hakeem forever.

Somehow Ibrahim dragged himself out of the sand dune and he pulled me out too. He was about to put me on his shoulder and walk when I wriggled out of his grasp. ‘Ibrahim, abandon me here and save yourself. I don’t want to go anywhere without Hakeem. I don’t want to escape. We came together. I can’t go home without him. I can’t face his ummah’s questions or meet his sister’s eyes. Leave me here. I want to go with him. I want to go with him!’

I tried to rush towards the sand mountain that had buried Hakeem’s body. But Ibrahim grabbed me and forced me on to his shoulder, ‘Allah didn’t send me to that masara to abandon you like this. I couldn’t save Hakeem, but I will permit you to die only after I die.’

I didn’t have the strength to resist him. I hung on his shoulder like a wilted plant. I sobbed like a small child. Carrying me, he walked through that sand
forest. Thirst, fear and hunger clung to us. I could feel my own heart beat. As moments passed it grew fainter. Even my breath became faint. My tongue felt heavy, as though I could never again move it. The world grew dark and moved around me. Like steam, heat came out of my skull. I began to lose control of my senses. I realized that I was becoming like Hakeem in his final moments. I don’t have much time left in this world. It was time to say goodbye. I tried to remember all those who loved me and those whom I loved. Not many human faces came to my mind. Ummah, Sainu, Hakeem … But the goats in my masara filled my mind’s eye one after another. Nabeel, Aravu Ravuthar, Pochakkari Ramani, Marymaimuna, Indi Pokkar, Njandu Raghavan, Parippu Vijayan, Chakki, Ammini, Kausu, Raufat. Maybe that was because those goats had loved me more than humans did. All of them bade me goodbye.

Evening came. Night came. Again we lay on the sand. A whole night passed during which we did not utter a word to each other. I didn’t think I had the strength to live through that night. But I survived. I was alive the next morning.

The wind had subsided and the morning was unusually serene. We slowly got up, neither of us uttered a word. Hopes and expectations had come to an end. We only wanted to reach some place. I did not even want to reach any place, I just wanted to die as soon as possible. I couldn’t withstand the thirst and the heat any longer. Allah, save us, as you saved Hakeem from this hell.

My feet did not fall firmly on the ground as we walked through the sand. I was walking like a half-dead person. Ibrahim offered to carry me on his shoulders many times. I didn’t let him. I knew that I would die that day. Only that much of life was left in my body. I decided to walk hoping I would die more quickly if I walked.

After walking for some time, we spotted the footprints of some creatures on the sand. Light signs of their furtive excursions. Ibrahim followed them and
saw where they led. They stretched far and ended in the wild. Confirming that it was the desert’s heartland, he led me in the other direction. We might have walked till around noon when all of a sudden we spotted a big lizard on the sand.

‘Lizard!’ crying loudly, Ibrahim ran after it. I didn’t understand his excitement. I was already swaying in half-sleep. Hoping to fall any time …

‘Najeeb, did you see that? It was a lizard!’ Ibrahim cried joyfully.

‘So?’ I frowned.

‘Do you know what a lizard in the desert means? It means that there’s water somewhere near,’ he said gleefully.

‘Really?’ Suddenly, I came awake with hope.

He nodded. ‘Now we have to be extremely careful with every step. We shouldn’t go back into the desert. This is our last chance,’ Ibrahim warned.

Therefore, we walked very carefully. With each step, we looked for more lizards. We moved in the direction towards which they had fled. We had reached the top of a sand dune when I saw it clearly. Green tops at a distance! Date palms. Small shrubs. There had to be water nearby! After that I didn’t know whether I was running or flying. Forgetting all fatigue I rushed there.
Although my legs were as heavy as an elephant’s, I ran, dragging them along. Although my legs were cut and were bleeding, I ran over stones ignoring them. Ibrahim Khadiri was behind me. Even though I had walked longing for death, the desire to live was deep within me. Maybe it was that craving that helped me hold on to life till the very end.

Since I was sure about the presence of water I ran madly through the thick shrubs. There was the buzz of a thousand bees in my head. A thousand white circles soared in front of my eyes. I could relate to Hakeem’s mad gestures in his last moments. I had become mad with thirst. I moved here and there, running in all directions. But Ibrahim looked for water in a calm, systematic manner. He looked for spots with more greenery. Places where the sand was damper. Finally he found a small pool among the shrubs. He raised his hands to the heavens and cried aloud, ‘Allahu Akbar! Water! Water! Allahu Akbar!’

My head was ablaze when that sound fell on my ears. I ran towards him like a madman. When I saw it, my eyes opened wide with wonder. A small pool amid the shrubs. So much water! Crazy with thirst, I dashed towards it. Suddenly Ibrahim pulled me away. ‘Don’t drink!’ he shouted. My eyes blazed. My blood
boiled. Gathering all my strength, I hit him on his neck. He staggered at that unexpected assault.

Again I moved towards the water. Then Ibrahim caught my legs and dragged me to a distance and laid me down. ‘Let me off, dog. I am thirsty! I must drink water,’ I screamed.

But he wouldn’t let me go. I hit my chest and cried. ‘My Lord, why do you make it so difficult for me to get what I long for? Strike this villain down with lightning. I walked with him all these days. He killed Hakeem. Now his plan is to kill me. That crook will finish all the water in the pool. I won’t even get to moisten my tongue. I must drink some water before I die. I must know its taste,’ I struggled and screamed.

Since Ibrahim had taken me so far away from the pool I had no strength to get up and go towards it. He went to the pool. I closed my eyes unable to bear the sight of him finishing up all that water.

All of a sudden, I felt a dampness on my lips. I opened my eyes. Ibrahim was sitting near me. He had a wet piece of cloth in his hand. He was moistening my lips with that. Greedily, I opened my mouth. As a drop of water from it fell on my tongue, I sprang up as if burned with acid. He again dabbed my mouth
with that cloth. Drop by burning drop of water oozed on to my tongue.

Again, Ibrahim went and wet the cloth. Water forced its way through my tongue into my throat. That moistness reached my stomach burning all the sore spots. It was only after my mouth was moistened fully that the burning sensation slowly ebbed and a thirst began to grow in me. Ibrahim walked me to that spring. Scooping water in his palms, he slowly poured it into my mouth. I drank till I was fully satiated. I felt, with pleasure, the wetness spreading to each cell of my body. Finally, after I drank enough, I fell down on the ground exhausted. It was only then that Ibrahim Khadiri took the wet cloth to his own parched tongue for the first time.

I sobbed heavily recalling my pettiness.