107

Many a night had ended this way. The sunset reincarnated the same horrific feeling.
His recent stroll around the block resulted in nothing. ‘Oi! Did you get hold of something?’ A familiar voice called him from the distance. He could see his inhuman shadow following him as he limped across the grim alley way.
Ahmad lay motionless, as expected. But this time lay three bottles beside him. Has he cut down on them? Ali thought as he reached his drunken brother. ‘Ali! You bastard! You have again arrived empty handed in my domain?’ Ali tried to sit beside him, but his leg didn’t allow him. So he stood a few paces closer, still on his crutches.
‘Here! Take these, I could only get this much’ Ali said handing Ahmad twenty Rupees. Ahmad pocketed the money and said ‘Ali, you are a heavy burden on me, you bring me this much after all that I’ve done for you?’
He left his brother for the night and headed for the nearest park. The silver lining that covered the park at this time of the night was awe-inspiring. Ali set aside his crutches and laid back against his favorite tree, ‘The Wizard’, he used to call it. Ali felt this great wood’s wisdom and he had experienced most of his solitary moments in its vicinity. This night he was going to enjoy. A huge canopy was in view, emitting a magical radiance. And along with this Ali eared the holiest of things: Music
Ali always experienced rapture when he heard a series of notes playing. There was something about this mode of expression that catapulted his conscience to a higher level. And the only thing he was proud of-he had adopted this mode of expression. He spent his days standing outside the City Centre playing his violin. And his violin-that was his most prized possession. The red-brown skin of his violin had mysterious engravings, but Ali did not bother about knowing about them. He believed that doing so will destroy its sanctity.
Often a generous hand would toss a coin or two into his open violin case. Many would gather around him just to enjoy the music, but he valued them as much as those who helped him financially. ‘Number of seekers’ he would call them. He marked his daily count on The Wizard. His highest count till that day: 52.
Ali started the next day, hoping to attract a larger number of seekers.
1:00 P.M signaled the clock on the tower overlooking the City Centre. Twenty-three rupees already! Ali was on cloud nine. Ali now decided to play a famous song. He called this one ‘The Prophet’. As he started to play he could see the traffic police man smiling and heading towards him.
‘Great going Ali! Here’s for my favorite song!’, and he tossed a five rupee coin into the case. Ali continued on playing and he could hear the cackling of coins as he closed his eyes and focused on the outro.
He was brought back to life by a thunderous applause. He could see an innumerable mass in front of him. Saleem, his childhood friend was busy counting the number of seekers. ‘One-Hundred-And-Seven!’ he blurted out. Ali thanked his audience and those also who helped him. Saleem helped him get up from the bench and handed him his crutches.
‘You broke your all time record!’ Saleem trying to re-emphasize on what he had said earlier. ‘Yes, I know’, Ali replied with a smile.
That night Ali visited his brother and handed him the ninety-four rupees that he had earned earlier. He turned around the alley exit and stood motionless for a while. ‘Zen Store’ the sign on the store said. Ali passed this store everyday and stole quick glances at the shoes that he wanted the most. The green shoes behind the window were in complete contrast to what he was wearing then. His right toe was bulging out of the only shoe that he could wear.
‘Someday’, he said to himself and moved away from the glass window that reflected distant city lights.
That night he marked the highest point on the Wizard that he could reach. He sat down beside the holy trunk. He covered the stone that he used as his head rest with his jacket and lied down. He looked up at the branches of the Wizard that formed a layer between him and the infinite sky above.
A sudden pang surged across his body. Then he remembered. He had not eaten for days.
The Wizard kept on whispering, it’s wisdom, muting his silent cries. He clutched hard at his violin, and smiled. ‘He-y Wi-zard… it has got me. I thought it never would. But I faced it with dignity, did not I? It has got me Wi-za-rd…poverty has got me.’ The hollow night no more cried and even the Wizard was engulfed by the blackness.
The next day, a large mass had gathered around the Wizard. They had decided to lay Ali by the Wizard. The people present payed their respects and started to leave. Saleem stayed back. He looked up at the Wizard and a smile darted across his face.
‘107. I think I have done it. ‘