Dear Infidel Read Online Free PDF Page A

a prize, his prize for enduring Eid. Sold.
    Contented once more, he opened his eyes ... The first shafts of light were breaking through – Eid-al-Fitr was nearly here. He suddenly thought of his long-deceased grandmother and remembered her getting all flustered one Eid morning, once upon a lifetime ago. ‘So much for the woman of the house to do,’ she would bemoan half-heartedly, whilst not begrudging her lot at all. That didn’t stop her reciting the mantra, though, as if she were flicking prayer-beads out aloud.
    And there he is, little Pasha, sitting in the kitchen of the family home in Karachi. His legs swing unimpeded under the seat, still too short to touch the ground. And he’s watching this woman in wonderment. He doesn’t know what to make of it, of any of it: this day, this strange country, his grandmother’s fuss. He’s fascinated by her, though, this round ball of a woman. She’s rolling from room to room, arms gesturing here and there, and machine-gunning orders to daughters and daughters-in-law: ‘ Rashida, find that silver leaf ... You can fry those samosas now, Arwa. Sara, crush those cardamom seeds and lay out the sweetmeats. Where is that silver leaf ?!’
    On being woken up he’d initially been grumpy, but now he’s just plain mesmerised. He doesn’t understand the live show that he’s watching, but he’s gripped. And besides, anytime his mummy or one of his aunties passes by, they make time to give him a taste of something, or tickle his tummy, or give him a kiss and a hug, enveloping his little face in their bosoms. He loves his mummy and he loves his granny, the grand-matriarch whom everyone else is afraid of. But now dawn is close to breaking and a sonorous cry cracks open in the distance. He’s heard it before; they’ve all heard it before, but this time it stops Granny in her tracks. A tear rolls down her cheek. She approaches little Pasha, cups his face in her hands and tilts his head up gently.
    ‘Do you know what that is, Mere Chand , my piece-of-the-moon? Do you know what he is saying?’ He shakes his head and maintains his wide-eyed gaze. ‘It’s the Azaan, my son; the call to prayer, and he is proclaiming the Glory of Almighty God. Your father has taken you away from me, away from us all, and you will grow up in a strange land. But never forget who you are. Promise me that.’
    Surprisingly his erection hadn’t waned, though solely through the trapped blood, rather than mental or physical stimulation. He shifted slightly. The room was now as full of light as it would get, when filtered through those ostentatiously thick curtains. Morning had broken. It was too late to pray. Pasha felt neither shame nor satisfaction, yet a nascent grin remained on his face as he drifted back to sleep.

5
    Health is a state of harmonious chemical balance, and maintaining that balance is key. Beyond diet and exercise, even thoughts and behaviours can disrupt the equilibrium, and thus Natural Law was prescribed: a design for physical, mental and spiritual harmony. Failure to adhere to Natural Law would and will harm us: physically or psychically.
    And thus, through the kinks in our armour, the efficiencies of our bodies become compromised. Be it a restless mind or an angry disposition, a tendency towards obesity or sexual overindulgence, our bodies pay for weaknesses hard-coded into us at the moment of conception. First come the warning signs: loss of sleep, headaches, irregular bowel movements. Nature informs that all is not well and you either heed its gentle prod or tear up its message through allopathic drugs. Ignorance isn’t bliss though – not when the shit-storm continues to brew, just out of sight. And one day maybe all those hamburgers you ate, or that hatred which you didn’t even try to excise, or that broken-heart which you never quite managed to mend, will be the last straw. And what black-day will that herald? What misfortune will it precipitate? The growth of a cluster of