Dear Infidel Read Online Free PDF

deviant cells? But were you always in control? Can you be blamed for being so easily excitable, without even time to chew your food? Was it your fault that you were all alone, that you never found your soul mate? You never had that trump card to play, no curve ball in your pocket. Dinner for one can really destroy a person, but you didn’t know that when you were youngand arrogant; only after the window had finally shut. But were you born arrogant, did you become arrogant or were you allowed to become arrogant? And when it’s all over, will God wipe the tears from your eyes or will you stand and fall by your own account, without mitigation?
    Everyone must expect illness – after all, we are here to pay off debts. But whilst most of us are compromised, there are others whose protection is complete. They will enjoy good digestion and assimilation, eat moderately and be well built. And their steady minds will incline them towards sobriety, forgiveness and measured moves as opposed to fright, fight and flight. In mind and body they, amongst all, are best equipped. Like rice or wine, age becomes them, enhances them, whereas most cannot escape from withering under its assault. In Ayurveda, such a state is known as Tridosha.
    Nazneen sat upright in bed, holding the book in her lap. Comfortable in her lotus position and with her back supported, she wrapped herself up in languor. The phone then rang, the shrill tone violating her quiet space, and with irritation she picked up.
    ‘Happy Eid!’ someone blurted out down the line. ‘That is right, isn’t it, Naz? That is the way you say it?’
    ‘Oh hiya, Nikki! Wow, what a surprise! Not to hear from you, I mean. It’s just today; I wasn’t expecting to hear from you, today.’ Nazneen winced. What a silly thing to say – way too honest. She gulped air as discreetly as possible. ‘Oh and yeah, thanks girl – “Happy Eid” is fine.’ They both giggled. ‘But how did you know?’
    ‘Know what, hun?’
    Nazneen reached for the remote and, settling back once more, switched on the TV.
    ‘About Eid. That today is Eid – you’ve never mentioned it before.’
    Nikki fell silent as the TV sprang to life, and a scream of Allah-u-Akbar! boomed through the speakers, chased by a volley of gunfire. Nazneen pounced on the remote, assaulting the volume button. The footage ended and cut back to some studio, where a camera French-kissed a cartoon of a man, replete with fuzzy beard, glass eye and hook for hand. Rendered mute, however, he communicated more clearly. The camera adjusted, zooming in for porno detail, leaving the viewers in no doubt:
    Eid, Islam, Muslims ... Mad Mullahs, Militants, Terrorists. Rabid, scathing, foaming at the mouth. Book burners, wife beaters, rag wearers. Suicide bombers and Jihad.
    YOU LOVE LIFE; WE LOVE DEATH.
    Who didn’t know that today was Eid ?
    ‘Oh...’ Nikki almost whispered. ‘I think I heard it. Somewhere...’
    Silence. Nazneen swallowed her rage, and her hatred for the West, and her hatred for the Muslims.
    ‘Listen, Naz...’
    ‘Yeah?’
    ‘It’s Charlie’s second birthday soon.’
    ‘A-ha.’
    ‘Will you come?’
    ‘Sure, Nikki, sure,’ she exhaled, still trying to centre herself.
    ‘Great! I’ve got loads of people coming, mostly from my pre-natal group – they’re really nice but I don’t know many of them too well. Will you come early, Naz? Help me out a bit?’
    ‘No worries, girl. But I’m no good in the kitchen, OK? You can put me in charge of decorating!’
    ‘I’ll put you in charge of Charlie, more like! Honestly, where have you been? You’ve not seen him in ages. He’s changing all the time. He’s really big now and a lot more playful. He’s a really happy little boy.’
    Nazneen sank back under the still-warm duvet, seeking embryonic comfort. Oh, the luxury! She stretched her legs before bringing them back up, and the next moments were spent simply revelling under down, her legs affecting a half-hearted