A Short Story by Ehtisham Rizvi
Art by Tehreem Naeem
Bang! Bang! Two gun shots - one targeting his face and the
other his chest – that was all it took to kill him. He fell down and the
killers got away. The shots had been fired from a white Toyota, which sped away
once the target was eliminated.
It was just another Tuesday in the busy metropolitan. He was
just another man standing at the bus stop waiting for his bus to arrive. Just
another man trying to provide for his family in the failing economy. And
suddenly he was no more.
The people at the bus stop gathered around him and someone
called an ambulance. They used his cellphone to contact his friends and family,
and took the body to the morgue. For some, his death was sad news. For others,
the news made no difference.
Abdul had always wondered what happened after death. He read
a lot about it in books and heard a lot from the neighborhood cleric, but he
always liked to discover things on his own. Now that he had experienced death,
he wondered what would happen next. He found the scene in front of him
mesmerizing. They were putting his body on a stretcher, and he was standing just
a few feet away watching his own carcass.
He wondered what would happen at work when they found the
news. He wondered if they would stop working, give everyone the day off, and
visit his house to give their condolences to his family. As soon as he thought
about work he was transported there. The atmosphere seemed sad and he could
spot a hint of tears in people’s eyes, but the machines were still on and the
people were still going about their daily business. His chair was empty, but he
knew there were plenty in line to take his place.
He expected to feel anger and frustration, but he felt
nothing. He thought about his family. His parents and his siblings depended on
him to pay the bills. Again, his thoughts served as a means of transportation
and he found himself standing in the middle of his room – the room he shared
with his brother.
He saw his brother sitting there in silence. There were no
tears running down his cheeks but he was a picture of sorrow. Abdul could only
wonder what psychological damage his death had done to his brother. He went to
the other room where his mother had fainted, and his sister and a couple of
neighbors were trying to bring her back to consciousness. In another room his
father tried to appear strong in front of the relatives.
He wanted to reach out to his father, his mother, his
sister, and his brother - but he could not. He wanted to tell them that he was
okay, that he was in peace, and that they should try to move on with their
lives. He wanted to tell them he loved them.
Pondering over things that were left unsaid and issues that
were left unresolved, his thoughts wandered to the girl of his dreams. In life,
he never told her how he felt. In death, he found himself gazing at her
beautiful face, searching fruitlessly for any signs of emotion. Before he could
try to get close to her, a voice interrupted him.
“It is time.” The strange voice came from behind him. He
turned around and saw a large man standing there. He wondered if it was the
angel of death. The man repeated himself as he walked towards him. Every step
liberating him from his woes, every step bringing clarity. When he was alive,
thousands of questions haunted his mind every day. Now that he was dead, the
answers to those questions were pouring in out of nowhere. It was as if a
barrier had been broken, and knowledge was now flooding his mind. He wondered
if he would go to heaven or hell, or if there was a third option.
“It is time.” This time the voice wasn't so strange. It was
his mother’s voice. “Get up and go to work. I don’t know why they put up with
your absenteeism. If you don’t go today they will deduct a full day’s pay from
your salary. Get up!” He tossed and turned and finally got up. Was that a
dream? He wondered. It felt so real. He didn't have time for contemplation, the
clock was ticking and he had to leave soon.
He skipped breakfast, changed into his work clothes and
headed towards the bus stop. The bus was late today and the sun was in an
unforgiving mood. The heat, the noise of traffic, the stink of sweat and
garbage - everything was getting to him. As he stood there waiting for the bus,
thinking about his dream, something caught his eye...a white Toyota was coming
towards him.
