Changing Colors (standard:romance, 2475 words)
Author: Shamoil Ahmad	Added: Feb 06 2012	Views/Reads: 2705/1896	Story vote: 0.00 (0 votes)
This is story about a man who does not enjoy the talks of those who talk of religion, sects or communities. He neither understands them nor empathises with them. For him it is more important to remain human and understand human needs and sentiments.

Changing Colors                                   Shamoil Ahmad 

Whenever there was a riot, Suleiman would invariably take refuge at
Rukmini's place.  He would drink whisky with her and keep abusing the 
rioters. Rukmini would talk sweet nothings with him and rant against 
the police, using cuss words for them. Suleiman would then feel 
relieved, sufficiently assured about the place being safe. There were 
no caste related issues here and this suited Suleiman admirably. 
Otherwise, where could he go and who could he talk to...? Suleiman had 
no interest in religions. He was of the opinion that religion did not 
unify people and he always spoke of bringing people together; majority 
of his friends were from other religious groups and he was quite 
popular with them. And yet whenever there was a riot in the town, he 
got caught in a mental imbroglio. The behavior of his friends would 
suddenly appear to have changed and they would appear to have been 
seized with religious frenzy. His olfactory organ would smell 
fissiparous odor in their gossiping which added to Suleiman's 
discomfiture. His ire against his wife went a notch or two up on such 
occasions. She had just one stereotyped answer for all this: “ 
Musalmans are no longer on their rightful path...that is why Allah is 
taking them through these days... “If Suleiman ever tried to say 
something, she would at once silence him. “What will you say...you do 
not even say your customary Friday prayers...” Suleiman did not say his 
Friday prayers and talked about unifying people instead. He would often 
think that believing the story of Adam would mean that the seeds of 
fissiparousness were transferred to mankind from Adam himself....else 
why should Lucifer kowtow to Adam...? He was made of fire and Adam was 
made of earth...both belonged to different sects...this was the first 
fissiparous act created by God in the heaven...It appeared to Suleiman 
that like God, religion too was a psychic requirement of mankind...At 
times he would speak like this just to irritate his wife who would 
shout back at him, “With what face will you face the Reckoning Day....? 
Have some fear of God...?” Suleiman's intense desire was to find 
someone who talked of humans...but everyone seemed to be shedding tears 
on religion...there was just this concubine who looked free from the 
issues of caste and religion. This time the riot happened in his home 
town and on reading about it in newspapers he kind of became crazy. He 
had no interest in magazines. In fact, he had nearly stopped 
subscribing to newspapers. They mostly purveyed the news of riots, 
murders and such incidents. He always got disturbed on reading this 
kind of news items. But this time it was a different matter. It related 
to his home town and he peered through all newspapers to ferret every 
possible news about his home town, especially to find out whatever he 
could about his own locality, the extent to which his own locality was 
affected. On reading the report about Lugai village, he became hugely 
disturbed. He threw the newspaper aside and began to pace the room 
restlessly. “Villages after villages have been wiped out...villages 
after villages...” he cried out in intense pain as he suddenly 
remembered Sayeeda. It had been ages since he had left his home, and 
the quest for livelihood had brought him to this distant place where he 
had settled down...but the memory of the place was safely embedded in 
his mind. He had not forgotten those lanes, by-lanes and alleys where 
he had spent his boyhood, especially that earthen roofing tiled house 
at the end of the lane where Sayeeda lived...that Sayeeda on whom he 
had planted that first kiss of adolescence...the mellifluousness of 
that kiss still lingered. He reminisced the spectacle of how Sayeeda 
had blushed, hid her face under her apron and run indoors. Suleiman 
remembered it all very well now. Sayeeda had been married into Lugai 
village where this rioting had taken place....he was distraught...he 
clutched his head and sat down...he couldn't believe man could stoop to 
this level of savagery! The local police too... He thought this was not 
a riot. It was a pogrom; it was genocide, a designed and orchestrated 
conspiracy to mass-kill....if it continued like this, then..... 
Suleiman was tensed up. He felt he needed whisky. Fishing out a bottle 
from the closet, he occupied a seat in the corner of a half-lit room. 
Pouring himself a drink, he thought it was good that his wife was at 
her parents. Else, it would not have been possible for him to allow 
himself the freedom of drinking in order to get over his misery....the 
hell would have broken if she were here and he would have been forced 
to go out. Suleiman took a long draught of whisky in, slid back on the 
chair and closed his eyes...he remained in this state for quite some 
time...suddenly, some of the lines he had read in the newspaper began 
to reverberate in the horizon before his eyes... “First, the dead 
bodies were thrown into the well...” “Then vultures and crows began to 
hover around...” “Oh...” Suleiman shivered. “Took the bodies out and 


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