story
A mysterious meeting...

By Mudabbir Aneeq

As I opened the door, I saw a fairly old man standing outside. He was very aged, but seemed quite healthy. An affectionate smile spread on his wrinkled face when he saw me. 'Yes?' I asked, trying to recognize him. 'Are you Faizan?' The old man asked me instead of replying. I was quite surprised to hear my name from a total stranger, nonetheless, I replied to him in affirmative. 'But who are you? I don't recognize you, sorry,' I inquired. 'You don't know me, son, but I know you very well,' the old man replied grinning mysteriously. First I thought he was some friend of my late grandfather, but the problem was that I knew all his friends and I had never seen this man before. Although I had never seen him before, his face looked very familiar. 'My name is Wajid Hussain,' the old man said. 'Wajid Hussain?' I tried hard this time, but the only person that came to my mind with the same name was my great-grand father. And, of course, he couldn't be him. So I told him I didn't know anyone with that name. 'I am your great grandfather, son,' the old man said very coolly.

It would be an understatement to say that I was confused. It was as if someone had dropped a bomb on my head! I know this sounds exaggerated, but that was how it felt. I was baffled, shocked and angry at the same time. I mean, how could someone tell such a big lie? That was what I was thinking when the old man said, 'You don't believe me?' And he kept smiling while saying this. 'Of course I don't,' was my rude reply. He said nothing and just smiled. I started to feel scared. My parents had gone to a function and I was alone at home. All the news headlines about thieves and dacoits disguised as beggars or door-to-door salesmen started to flash in front of my eyes. The mere thought of my house being robbed made me numb with fear. 'I am not what you are thinking, son,' the old man said. 'How on earth does he know what I am thinking? He must be trying to influence you, Faizan, beware! Don't get caught in his trap. He is a thief and no one else.' I told myself. 'Do you recognize this?' the old man cum thief spread his hand in front of my eyes. And, what I saw there stunned me! There, in his right hand's finger, was sparkling the precious ring that belonged to my great grandfather and was kept very carefully in a locked drawer by my mother. And that man's wearing the ring meant that a theft had already taken place in my home! 'Where did you get that from?' I asked in confusion, not knowing what else to say. 'It is mine. I don't need to get it from anywhere. It belongs to me,' he replied very calmly. 'Won't you show your great grandfather in, Faizan?' he said, and pushing me aside, he entered the house, without waiting for my permission. Though I didn't want to let him in, I felt mesmerized. I couldn't stop him. He came inside and closed the door. 'Ah,' he let out a soft cry while studying the inside of my house with keen eyes. 'It has changed a lot,' he said as if he was talking to himself. 'The kitchen didn't use to be there and that was our diwankhana,' he told me. I remembered my father telling me the same. The home that we lived in belonged to my great grandfather. My father had inherited it from my grandfather, and we had done some renovation work over a period of time. And the person who called himself my great grandfather had told me exactly what my father had! Suddenly, he transfixed his gaze on me. 'Don't be so terrified, son. I am your great grandfather. Do you think I would harm you? Never,' he spoke to me looking into my eyes. I had to believe him. My great grandfather or not, that man was someone who knew my home very well. In fact, he knew my home as it was some good 20 years ago. He sat down on a sofa nearby and asked me to sit with him. As if in a trance, I did what he asked. He looked at me with interest and said, 'You look just like Subhan (my father). But that nose of yours is Rehana's (my mother).' He kept smiling while he contemplated my features. He was very right in what he said. Everyone said I looked like my father. And I knew my nose looked like my mother's. It was unnerving! How did he know so much about my family and how did he get his hands on the precious jewel he was wearing? His voice suddenly broke my trail of thoughts. 'You are studying medicine, right?' he asked me. 'Uh, yes,' was my weak reply. 'It was Hamdan's (my grandfather) wish to make his son a doctor, but your father wasn't interested. He used to tell me that he wanted to become an engineer. And that's what he became. And now he is fulfilling his father's wish by making you a doctor,' he said with a smile on his face. Even that was correct! My father had told me this before and he forced me to take admission in a medical college, though I didn't want a career in this field. I wanted to pursue studies in Fine Arts. Since then, I have had many arguments with my father. I disliked medicine and found it difficult to digest, as my interest lay somewhere else and I was made to study something I wasn't interested in at all. My relation with my father had worsened. We didn't talk for days and if we did, it was just for the sake of formality. My mother tried to sooth my feelings by explaining things to me, but to no avail. I felt like a scapegoat. I felt my father was trying to feel better by making me do what he couldn't do for his father. But how did this man know everything? That was the question. I decided to clear everything with this man, whoever he was, by asking for an explanation. 'Look, I don't know what's happening. I don't know who you are and I don't have any reason to believe that you are actually my great grandfather. So, please tell me who you are and what you want!' Instead of replying to my queries, he rolled over the sleeve of his left hand and showed me something which gave me the creeps.

To be continued...