The Geometry of God, page 22
"Clog?"
Does not respond.
I repeat the name over and over again in the hope that the word itself will recreate it.
"Gloc?"
Any.
Clog raises his head, drinks a little. Likes to be a newborn. He likes the taste of salt. His tongue does not dry out like a bitter vocal cord. He leans in, sips again, looks up again. He sees me. His tongue is sweet.
"I have made you."
-And I you.
"Between us there are no daily interests."
-No. Between us there is only pure goodness.
Once again I have been alone at home with Aba. Amal and Ama have gone to witness Nana's second or third oral hearing. Nobody knows what will happen, perhaps only the Moon Observation Committee knows. Now Aba yells a lot at Amal and tells her that his friends are rubbish and that if she thinks that just because she has a college degree, that gives her the right to question her father and whatever lies ahead. Amal tells him not to interfere in his life. Interference is what makes my radio crack when I search for a song on the dial.
Aba is watching Pakistan Television at full volume he is going to go deaf. He hopes that the Prime Minister will not interfere in the lives of others. Wait for them to kick her out.
If the President tells him to "get out of here" then the Prime Minister and Miss Amna and Nana can all three meet at Jun Yirab Pass. Nana will arrive on foot and in slippers Miss Amna will arrive by bus at sunset and the Prime Minister in her plane dressed in a cloying dupatta. Aba says that before she was an attractive woman but that she has put on weight. He likes the President in Sherwani, but Amal says that Nana thinks he is useless or a bekari and she does not find him attractive at all.
Clog raises his head, drinks a little, looks around, takes a step and frowns.
I do not want the various action to vary,
nor any particular particle,
nor an analogy that equals Plato
with a platoon or plankton.
—Don't make fun of my old way of writing, your verses are also illegal, I can make better rhymes than yours! -I tell him.
"The State is Clog verses!"
"You're a shaft!"
"I'd rather be a skeleton!"
I hear interference.
-Do not go! Sorry!
Nana is at her home in Islamabad. I went to visit him. I haven't seen him for two years since we did those half legal ghazals and I have so much to tell him but I have to wait.
You are in a "stalemate" which is when you are neither doomed nor free. He says that power knows that the best way to break someone is through monotony. Wear and wear.
The student who falsely accused him is the son of a walking coma, a wealthy chieftain who has joined forces with the Creation Party to become More Powerful. But Uncle Junayd who had left law to pursue art has now left art to pursue law and help Nana. He knows many very good lawyers who know politicians with many stars and there have been demonstrations in favor of Nana which is something favorable for us.
Nana and Amal are again khus puss khuss puss, blah blah blah, arguing arguing.
Nana has hired a bodyguard because Ama and Amal insisted but she always tells the man to leave so he is not really protected and just like Amal she gets very angry when you mention "security reasons" to her.
Corrections: heresy and heretic are written instead of ere jía and ere whisper axis instead of his surro and commander instead of errant comma.
Fixes: Noman is back! It is at Nana's house and after two years it smells different. I want to ask him where he was but he talks a lot, he says:
"The Blasphemy Act was written by two British I believe one of them was Sir Peacock, shortly after the War of Independence." Pakistan turned her into a weapon ...
I try to listen politely but Clog is here too. Says:
Learn to differentiate between
elegies and heresies.
"You shouldn't be here, go!" I whisper to him.
"Who are you talking to?"
It's Noman. I smell it again and I realize what the difference is. Shampoo has been added. I touch her hair and it is silky. I don't let Clog in and Noman starts joking with me and says he's an old man now and he's thirty-one years old. He asks me how old I am now and I tell him that I will turn seventeen this summer. I touch her lips and feel the gap between her teeth but there is something else different and I have to withdraw my hand quickly. I never did that before.
I have to think about that. Amal once hit me for touching Omar because she said I was going beyond just looking at his face. I was wrong. But what if he said the same thing now about Noman? I don't think he noticed any changes. I leave.
Noman likes Amal but Omar is still my sister's only bulbul I know that remains the same even though she no longer taps on my window or lets me be present when Zara comes to visit her.
Clog doesn't want to leave Nana's house. Before, she only visited me at school but I played deaf because otherwise Miss Fauzia would have been angry. I made that promise to Miss Amna and I have kept it because I have a promise at an age which is an age of making promises. Clog clears his throat:
To understand why the law arouses fear
think of a bolt or squeak and with horror,
trace a point and let your image grow
until you feel its true origin.
It dates back to eighteen hundred and sixty.
The Empire in savings does not settle.
Muslims and Hindus would tremble
for at the highest price their freedom would be lost.
Sir peacock[3] unfurled its tail like a peacock
and a penal code was drawn from his sleeve.
It seemed written in braille for so many gap and hole
although he maintained that it was for our good and our jurisdiction.
The Blasphemy Law was written that time,
and thus articles seven eight nine and ten arose,
for the Christian Crown to punish
to anyone who damages temples and mosques.
While secretly rejoicing,
because the lack of harmony facilitated
the rapid exchange of rupees
which were converted more quickly into pounds sterling!
So today we have a way
to find a verse, create a code
darker than death or the criminal.
This sentence corrodes me without having a full stop.
And I hope you enjoyed this story
from when Sir Peacock spread his tail,
Well, there is a lot to tell and my memory fails me ...
"I haven't enjoyed it at all!"
"Mehwish!" Why are you yelling?
"I'm tired of you guys always arguing and arguing!"
"Poor thing, come here." Nana pulls me toward him. This is too much for you, ”she says and asks me if I'd rather stay home next time. Amal suggested that to me, but I wanted to go see Nana.
"I don't want to stay home while they take you from court to court!"
"Shh ...
After a while I fall asleep hearing about article seven eight nine ten eleven ...
Later it is Noman who wakes me up and not Amal.
"There's chicken soup." With peas and carrots. Amal says you like peas and carrots, they are sweet but not cloying.
He puts the spoon in my hand and I give it back to him. I have always eaten alone but today I don't feel like it.
"My mother says this cures everything, even hiccups!" I hear Noman blow on the spoon so the soup doesn't burn my tongue then I open my mouth. The peas are still round. I take the soup in silence, all you hear is Noman blowing on the spoon and the noise I make when I swallow. Then he starts talking about his sisters. Shaista has three children. Sehr has married an engineer in Canada and has taken his cat with her.
"Meow is older than you," he says.
-Where were you? I ask him.
-When?
"When you weren't here."
"I… I was doing penance."
"Did you know that there are two r's in corrode?"
"I have felt them inside of me."
The next time I wake up I am in Lahore.
Miss Hina is our new teacher and she is afraid of Miss Fauzia. She wears a floral perfume she has soft skin and must be very pretty. He wants to "help poor people."
A week later he leaves.
Clog raises his head, drinks a little, looks around, takes a step, frowns, licks his teeth, finds a crown under his tongue. Miss Ad Hoc sits in the armchair with her feet folded on her lap.
"I want you to tell me about Miss Ad Hoc," I tell Clog, "and not about Sir Peacock or death or jail."
I hear a flapping like that of a seamstress warbler taking off.
-Returns!
Three other teachers pass the school before Miss Raheela arrives. She is tall, has short hair and a title that she earned abroad. An extra foreign title is not given quickly in Lahore but comes very slowly from another country. Miss Raheela has come to Lahore to live with her new husband and her new egos. Miss Fauzia doesn't like it, she says:
"You're not smarter for having a foreign title or giving yourself an air of greatness!"
"But all schools have to have a bookstore!"
Miss Raheela shouldn't argue with Miss Fauzia but I like her because at least she tries. This is my last year of school but it would be nice to have a bookstore for the last few months.
Nana is still between punishment and acquittal.
Clog always follows me home to Sir Peacock and his peacock tail and the phrase that gnaws at him without ending. Finally the weather is cooler, it has rained and the leaves are wet when I forbid him to talk about laws and he agrees.
"A good proposition, what's your motion?" Something that is related to you? Searching for Latin words? Something scientific ...
"Latin names, long sentences, and convoluted speeches are all fruits of the devil!" I want an old ghazal. When words were simple!
"You want the melody of the birds!" For this you will have to look for high-flying words!
"Oh, hurry up!"
What I want deep down is for someone to explain to me why I can't find Noman anymore when I touch the gap between his teeth, touch his lips, or run my fingers over his face.
Clears throat.
The last ancient ghazal was heard
in a time before the fifteenth century,
when the verse had a free form
and he was not pure and demure like me.
An ancient ghazal without girls with painted nails
that they dedicate to the poets fallen eyes and perfumed notes,
wave bracelets before whose spell a man can do nothing
more than declaring your deep love and not getting what you expected.
If they let her speak for herself and without hindrance.
It is the others who talk about her
and his voice sows mistrust.
What does Laila know about love?
Or Shireen from craving?
Let Farhad tell the drama
of a passion
that ignites and that ignites
with every dharkan.
The ladies to the meat sing.
What rude!
But Mujnoon is required
do not give up and take advantage
of desire without restitution.
Find in this ancient ghazal the stitch in the fold,
tie a knot in it and keep the petals fresh, let it water you,
collect the seeds in a fist and plant them in the bed,
lie down, do not resist, feel his mouth on your chest.
-I want to go home!
"We just got here, Mehwish," Amal says angrily.
-I want to go home.
"I told you not to come." Why don't you listen to me? I told you to stay in Lahore. We will leave tomorrow as we said.
"I want to go home now."
"I can carry her," Noman said.
-No.
"I think you and Mehwish should both go today," Nana said. He says this to Amal and his voice sounds very tired.
"But I want to stay with you." She shouldn't have come.
"But she's here and I'm asking you to please come home to her."
"What's the matter, Mehwish?" Noman walks over to me. Would you like some soup?
-No.
The three of us left on the next bus. I don't open my mouth.
I'm not going back to Nana's house for a while.
In August they take Nana away. Nobody tells me where or why. Not even Clog.
Three things happen in November. The President says "Get out!" to the Prime Minister. At school a small shed becomes a bookstore. Aba gives his consent for Amal to marry Omar.
It is Ama who asks him to allow them to marry. He says that Amal has been "good" this year and that Omar's family is "good" too. They come home to meet us.
"Aur?" Says Omar's family.
"Aur?" We say.
"Aur?" They say.
Amal is twenty-five years old. Aur? Ama never thought that she would marry at a normal age and with someone so handsome. Aur? They don't stop arguing about the wedding date. Amal wants to work and save and wait. Ama wants it to be as soon as possible so as not to risk the handsome boy disappearing.
It's been more than three years since I met Omar at the cricket match. He seems less spontaneous. He sits in the living room and says nothing, "wow" or "aur." I do not speak to him because it is rude to do so when adults are discussing important things such as who are all those who have to be on the guest list without forgetting anyone. I know Omar would be more interested in talking about my new school bookstore. You would laugh to know that all books are for people who can see! The bookstore was made because Miss Raheela pulled some strings. I would like to tell those threads that the books have no dots or bumps, although deep down I don't care because I'm leaving in a month.
Nana did not attend the engagement as she is still traveling. But we have spoken on the phone.
"Is this the Omar bulbul?"
-Yes. But I no longer hear his voice because he does not speak.
"Let's hope he sings."
I don't think he told Ama or Aba that he already knew about Omar.
-Where are you?
"In a safe place, Mehwish." You know that everyone is very concerned about safety.
"Are there Marco Polo sheep?"
-I do not know. I'll ask — blow me a kiss.
I didn't touch Omar's face. I gave him a quick kiss on the cheek and he patted me on the head like he was a holy man. I no longer touch men's faces, only Aba's.
There is an old slob who sits on a chair in the bookstore. I like to visit him at lunchtime. He does nothing more than watch that they do not steal the books that nobody buys or reads. He is not blind, he is illiterate.
"We'd be much better off if you were the blind one and I could see," I tell him one day without the intention of insulting him, I hope he doesn't take it the wrong way.
He does not take it the wrong way. Serie.
"Well that's how we two blind men are!"
We play a game in which he takes a book from the shelf and describes the color of the paper and the size and I guess what is inside. The first is slim and hardcover.
"It's about a hidden S," I say.
-What is that?
"Open it and tell me if there are whales inside."
"There's nothing just a bunch of tiny letters." He returns it to its place and takes out another.
"Open it and tell me if there is a moon and airplanes inside."
-No. There is no moon or plane.
"Then it's not a book about Eid."
He tells me to eat my lunch before the bell rings so I open my lunch box.
I eat a shami kebab, he eats the other one.
"My sister can read stones," I tell her.
"What a silly girl!" Don't you have anything better to do?
"She's getting married soon."
-Mashallah.
"Do you know where the stones come from?"
"Only Allah knows."
"Amal says the rocks are from a time after Africa broke apart."
-Oh yeah?
-Yes. The part that broke away was like a comma that drifted away to become an apostrophe.
Stop paying attention to me and I go back to class. The path is easy I go left when I leave the bookstore I walk straight eleven steps when I get to the banyan tree I turn and get to the lobby, my class is the second door on the right. I know that tonight Clog will visit me and tell me a better way to explain to Baba how Africa broke up.
I was right. Clog has come but is serious and has an old voice.
Before suffering a malicious attack
the apostrophe was covered in front and behind.
A stench of slimy fish cartilage,
a backdrop on the proscenium you'll see.
The spine has a special shape,
But does it take you forward or backward?
Nothing equals the yellow yolk.
Feed the vanguard and cover the rear.
In a pigment point lies its only meaning.
A push that seems to have split your back.
When the changes come, keep your mind fresh,
close the back door and slam open the front door.
A dark spot tells me when someone is in the room. Clog stays. I fall asleep with a feeling that I didn't know how to name before and that Amal explained to me the first time Nana was accused. A sense of doom.
The next day at lunchtime it's my turn at the guessing game.
I hide a book behind me. Baba has to guess the color and design of the caps. Blue flowers, plain green, tiny figures on a red carpet. He always says he was right but I have no way of knowing. Although I'm tall, there are books that I can't reach so I get on her chair.
Being up there I feel a current of air and something makes my skin itch, maybe it's light.
"I didn't know the bookstore had a window."
"There is a door behind the bookcase, not a window."
-It's open?
-Yes.
As I search for a book on the highest shelves, a cool breeze comes from behind the bookshelf.
