It’s EVENING TWILIGHT, and we are sitting in a beautiful mango garden inside the palacial home of our Uncle, Noor Khan’s magnificent mango garden, who holds a lit hokka pipe in fairly hairy hand. The uncle whose very NICK name of Lallan acted in our imaginations as a signifier of uncomparable strength and for his numerous far-ranging adventures, regardless of ruthless accusations on his unique personality.
Lallan Cha, like so many heroes you would have heard about from the pages of history, would always be described as a great fighter and a man of tremendous strength in the history penned of our times. But the only difference between him and any other superhuman is that nobody knows when he’ll be happy and when he’ll blow up a man. But this man was once so much humbled by my towering opinion of him, no matter how exaggerating or imaginary that he asked me to keep communicating with him as much as I can, for he had read somewhere that communications are therapeutic and helps in learning and understanding this world as a whole, including the outer world as a whole too.
Never have I seen such strength in any man, and that too with an invisible strength taking into account his overall physique, or at least that is what you’ll hear from anybody who are both his and mine acquaintances. And this was what once made me wonder why he never thought of participating in WWF champions league, and when I asked for an answer to that, ”Why not go for the Khan of the ring in Pashtun style?”
Lallan Cha looked into my questioning eyes with his illuminating ones, and then, pausing for a moment very smoothly said, ”It’s pretty low stuff for a Zamindar like me! I’m a landlord not a cheap fighter that tears his clothes and jumps up and down and away like a decorated monkey!” He very mildly sniffed and smeared in the middle of the air, as if he could see that monkey jumping up and down there.
”What do you say about the results of the genetic research on the Afridi Pashtuns of Malihabad, that which is believed by some Jew scientists, is hidden in our blood…….”
This way, he had provided my long lasting curiosity with his mild, concise and effective looking answer, though the man was infamous for his savage behavior, with his self designed temperament whenever his ugly side was ever aroused by such seemingly low questions. Though the man was a sage by the deepest depths of his heart.
”What do you say about the results of the genetic research on the Afridi Pashtuns of Malihabad, that which is believed by some Jew scientists, is hidden in our blood that automatically links us up to the present day Israel, and those Jewish web-sites affirming through several past historical records?”
”Which Jew? Einstein? who did produce scientific miracles that are still miracles and would always remain miracles! Unlike him, they, I can smell, must be racist Jews like some racist among us?” He gnashed in his usual sudden outburst. ”Otherwise what’s the use of this rubbish genetic research!” My mighty hearted uncle Lallan presenting his complete opinions on this simmering subject, ”It seems to me, not even a cow dung, for even a cow dung is of some valuable use to some of the down-trodden in the villages! How the hell can it help humanity or anything with its outcome! And if it’s an awkward step forward in building a good relations between the Pathans and Jews by targeting the Afridis, then it is going in the right direction? No! That’s the main reason why the Pathans of Malihabad are cursing all people involved in this rustic research, and those who are not, are terming it foolish political effort based on the whirlpool of history after becoming the victims of of silly criticisms!”
Uncle Lallan, though, hadn’t given his blood samples, for he roaringly said, they didn’t come to him, that he may have or not have that gene they were looking for.
Lallan Uncle is an average-heighted, handsome and broad-shouldered Pathan, with land-lordly pride that almost always sits on his expressions hanging from his well combed and beautifully dense beard. He was seen as a wonder of his age and so were all his brothers, four in number, of which I’m not supposed to to talk today for we will divert ourselves from his mighty and very interesting single meet.
”It’s the truth and nothing but the truth, Lallan, once had lifted a Royal-enfield to terrify a wrestler from Punjab who stood aghast with the crowd behind him which stood deaf and dumb!”
Ask anybody about his strength and they’ll supply your keen ears with tremendous tales of his extraordinary strength and bravery. In and around the town he was termed as ‘Man of Iron.’ He is a living legend, a living legend whose wrath is well known. Even the most powerful wrestlers of the towns around, who had seen his strength, were scared of demonstrating their strength in a fear of his participation in the contest right away.
”It’s the truth and nothing but the truth, Lallan, once had lifted a Royal-enfield to terrify a wrestler from Punjab who stood aghast with the crowd behind him which stood deaf and dumb!” Toothless Singh had claimed in an utter amazement, injecting some zeal in our bosom and I too imagined myself lifting an enfield to terrify one eyed devil.
”According to some reports that I’ve read on the Internet, there came no positive results to this research!” I told him waving my hands.
”But, Uncle, what are your private views about this public affair?”
I asked him politely and very purposefully.
And for the first time smiling only with the corner of his mouth he fired his own views on the hidden Jew genes matter, ”That was bound to happen! You can never develop genuine relations with people around in this bold and shrewd world on the sole basis of caste, creed or your race! Napoleon, no not Napoleon, Hitler got it all wrong and many such people. Although they got initial successes in such ideas, even tremendous leaps they acquire, just like happy and zealous frogs at the riverbank in rain! But, nowadays when everyone seems to be intelligent and progressive, materialistic, you just can’t increase your propaganda pace with just your race! They, the scientists who have taken the blood sample, were intelligent looking people, and always are, all those that ends with this Tist and that Ist, they are what they really are prepared for, smart fellows who behave strangely in labs and people call them eccentric because they are now no normal men, they are specialists now! And these specialists one day come to a town famous for the mangoes all around the world in a season when the world knows there are no mangoes! And knowledgeable are they!” Lallan Cha’s eyes began turning red with expressive anger. ”And instead of Mangoes they talk about Jewish links linking us to Israel! Where the hell were they in these past hundreds of years? Absurd! The prophet had told about such things as the symptoms of the “day of judgement” but these people don’t believe in such things, claiming that religion stops scientific progress, though the symptoms are very same, and must be seen in people, not in blood, not in the monkeys! Such absurd, such nonsensical preparations are being made! Though, each and every particle seen or unseen is the same as it must be! The same!”
And that’s the reason why Pathans are getting shorter and shorter day by day!
”What same uncle?” I interrupted his sentimental lecture, pressing the main point of the question, the centre of it, making a beak of my lips. ”I mean how?”
”That is the problem with the youth like you, specially Malihabadi Pathan youth, ” Uncle Lallan was furious and that is what we wanted, ”you all just want to go deep into the skin of everything, each and everything! And that’s the reason why Pathans are getting shorter and shorter day by day! Look at yourself, you are hardly 5 feet, 6 or 7 isn’t it?”
I nodded, suppressing my laughter.
He continued with the same passion, ”Look at him! (He pointed his finger at one more sample scratching away among us) Him! (The other one sitting on a bike looking into it’s mirror) My children!”
”But that’s only genetic uncle, even you too are short.” Asif the guitarist said. ”It’s science!”
”Science, I, I?” Uncle Lallan’s face reddened. He scowled at him and shook his fist at him.”Let me show you who is shorter!” He sprang up from his chair, and Asif the guitarist fled away with his guitar, giggling, flown out of the big gate.
Uncle’s facial expressions were worth seeing. What a red face! Veins bulging out of the shining forehead. Truly, a wonder based on extraordinary facial expressions! His son was absolutely right! White face reddening with each passing hour! Like a red faced beautiful ghost! His ears seemed tightened and bosom seemed filled with immense air. And that was where we had our collective motives in. Some said those expressions were due to his extraordinary strength which he used to put all of it into his anger.
But no one ever put forth this view which his illiterate, bald-headed and skinny gardener cum caretaker of his poultry farm, Gumdi, who is suffering from Rhotacism, hence pronounces ‘S’ as ‘Z.’ So he revealed his take on the same issue with his devilish expressions that made him a puppet of a physical joke, that is to say, patting the head of his retriever jerking his own head in vomiting without the least hesitation,”Those stupid sciendizt zhould have poured out hiz blood to reveal uz the source of his yakstraordinary powar! I wish they hadh known himm, or atleast, if they don’t believe in strength and just in mind they should have taken the soil of our town, that produces countless mangoes in just one gigantic tree, and atleast have done that same research in it, to prove their scientific brilliance! So that the other towns too would have been greatly beineifited from it’z rezults rezulting in the zame zize and thaste of Dasezri mangoezz elzewhere, izn’t it?”
And he spitted on the ground and closed his eyes for a while by falsely pondering over for more of his sour ideas, waiting for our reactions in reality.
And the moment Lallan Cha departed we all roared at him with laughter, threw him on the sofa, ”What an answer Gumdi! What an answer!” and slapped hard his buttocks, like madmen. And he made proudly silly face mixed with pain, ”Yes I too have brains like you! It’s not just I hatch eggs in my beloved poultry farm guys!”
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