A wounded old man came to us at night in strange circumstances. My husband Nasir gave him shelter much against my wishes. It was uncanny that he had won over my son sunny. But soon dramatic things happened which changed the course of our lives....
Our son Sunny was barely 3 years old, when a stranger came into our lives. I still feel guilty when I think of my suspicions. I barely concealed them from my husband Nasir. I remember Nasir and I had fought that night. I was tired. I had a field job and had spent the better part of the day visiting clients. When I came home, I had relieved the ayah who took care of Sunny during the day and then busied myself cooking dinner. Nasir got home and we had dinner, both of us were ready to drop to bed. But Sunny was not. He wanted to play, romp and be Tarzan.
I asked Nasir to take care of him. All I wanted was to flop into bed. He said he was entitled to a good night’s sleep as much as I was. I kept my cool. I tried to persuade the child to go to bed. But when I put off the light, he cried. He said he was not sleepy. I knew the ayah had made him sleep during the afternoon, so she could snooze too. Or watch TV undisturbed. Now he was wakeful at midnight. Both Nasir and I were at the end of our tether.
We argued as we discussed the options we could ill afford keeping the ayah full time, day and night.
We discussed my leaving the job I could not. The house loan was paid off with the better part of my salary.
That was when we heard the moaning sound.
“Oh God what was that?”
‘’It came from outside our door,” Nasir said.
He went towards the door. Ours was a ground floor flat and had scanty security. I was scared. I urged him not o open the door. Maybe, it was a thief on the prowl. But the child with an innocent plea said that we must open it. It must be a fairy.
Nasir was more practical. The moan seemed one of pain. Nasir opened the door.
An old man had collapsed on our doorstep. He had blood on his forehead. Nasir touched his neck and found a weak pulse. Nasir knew these things. He was a male nurse.
Sunny was disappointed that this stranger was not a fairy.He asked questions: Why has he closed his eyes?
Why does he have a white beard?
Nasir had tended him and now the old man was recuperating in our only bedroom. Nasir said, “He will be alright with a good night’s sleep. It is just exhaustion.”
I said, “ He can’t stay here. Let us phone hospital and have him taken away.”
Nasir said, “They will not keep him. He is not ill or seriously injured. Just a superficial hurt on the head, sustained when he probably fell down.”
On the sofa-cum-bed in the hall, Nasir and Sunny fell into a deep sleep. But now my sleep had fled.
I wondered if we had done the right thing giving shelter to this man. What if he woke in the night and murdered us all? What if he were insane? Or a thief on the run? There had been reports in the newspapers about a spate of robberies committed by unknown persons. What if he opened the door and let in an accomplice?
In the morning, I went into the bedroom and did not find the old man in bed. Maybe, he went off by himself. I looked at the almirah. It was still locked. I felt the keys tucked at my waist and felt secure. I woke Nasir and told him the man was gone. He pointed out the front door which was still bolted from inside.
I heard a noise in the kitchen and went there. On the table was a pot of tea and the man was arranging cups and plates for us.
I asked him to leave the kitchen. I told him that I would do all this.
But he pleaded that we let him repay us in part of our kindness of last night.
As I dressed for office, I told Nasir that we had to send the old man away. Nasir talked to him. “Apparently he does not remember who he is!” he said.
“He must be lying,” I said at once.
Nasir was also ready for work. His day started earlier than mine.
Our main problem now was what to do with the old man. We did not even know his name.
Sunny had solved that problem. He was playing with him and calling him Dadaji, which meant grandfather.
Nasir said to me. ” I’m leaving for the hospital. When the ayah comes you can leave too.”
To complicate matter, the ayah phone to tell that she would not come. She was ill.
The old man heard me talk on the phone. He said when I had rung off, “Look you go to work, ma’am. Don’t worry about a thing. I will take care of your child.”
I did not know what to do. I could take the child with me.
An important client meeting compelled me to go to work. Leave was out of the question. Yet, I feared leaving the child with a stranger.
I went outside and rang Nasir at the hospital and told him the problem. Nasir without hesitation asked me to do as the old man had said. He trusted him.
“I don’t” I said.
“Then you find your own solution, I cannot come home now.” Nasir left the line.
I went to work all right. But all the time my mind was on the child. I rang up home every hour to check if things were alright. They were. The old man had given Sunny lunch and had some himself too.
By the evening, I was overcome with tension. The phone at home rang and no one answered. I gave an excuse to my boss and rushed home.
There, I found Sunny and the old man sitting on the sofa with a book and coloured crayons He was teaching him the alphabet. I yelled at the old man, ‘“where the hell were you both? I called up so many times.”
The old man looked at me in surprise.”But I told you, ma’am that I would take care of your child. You did not have to worry so much. I took him to the children’s park in your complex.He was getting restless in the house.”
As the days passed, the old man became a permanent fixture in our house. Sunny became so attached to him that now he didn’t even want our attention. It was uncanny. A stranger had come and won him over.
Then one day, another dramatic thing happened in our lives, to change the course. A newspaper had the photograph of the old man. The headline said: Missing. His name was on the photograph: Yousuf Chaudry. There was an appeal that he return to them. The ad was inserted by his son, Shahid.
Now, an inexplicable thing happened. A man who should have been happy at knowing his own identity, now had tears in his eyes. They were brought on when Nasir tried to call up the son Shahid.
The old man pleaded with Nasir not to do this. He did not want to go home.” I lied to you,” he said. “I have not lost my memory. I lied so that you would not send me away.”
But the damage had been done. Though the old man had wrenched the phone from Nasir’s hand and disconnected the line, Shahid had got a lead. He reached Nasir and talked to him and Nasir could not lie. He said, “Yes, Your father is here with me.”
Shahid came to fetch Yousuf Chaudry. He wanted to take his father away. He had escaped from a mental hospital Shahid told us. Yousuf’s eyes misted with tears and he said, ” I am not mad. My son had got me certified as insane so he can get his hands on my property and money.”
The son denied this. His father was truly mad! We did not want to interfere in what was strictly a family matter, but Nasir’s conscience would not let him ignore it.
Weeks after the father-son duo left, Nasir got Yousuf Chaudry a lawyer to fight the case against his son. He even got a psychiatrist from the hospital where he worked to testify to the sanity of Yousuf Chaudry. But he whole matter took a curious turn when the phone rang one day: “Are you Nasir Mirza?” someone asked my husband. He admitted it.
It was from the lawyer who had fought the case for the old man.
He said Yousuf Chaudry had won the case against his son. He congratulated Nasir.
The story, however did not end there. Yousuf Chaudry died of a heart attack 2 years later.
His last will and and testament left all his money and property, not to the son who had fought him, but to Nasir and me who had given him shelter and help in his hour of distress.
Today, when I think back to that fateful day when we found him on our doorstep, I feel guilt at the way I mistrusted the old man.
My son made an instinctive remark that proved all too true, “It must be a fairy.”
He truly was a harbinger of good fortune, who turned our lives around.l