Pir-E-Kamil: The Perfect Mentor Read Online Free PDF

and also on the wrist of the boy who was objecting to being there. Then they bought paan laced with tobacco and also offered one to him—he had probably never had paan before. They went up the stairs.
    He looked around critically and a look of satisfaction crossed his face when he saw that the place was not only clean but well decorated too. The floor was covered with white sheets and there were bolsters to recline on. Curtains fluttered softly on the doors and windows. Some people had already arrived but the performance had not yet started. A woman with a lovely but fake smile swiftly made her way to them. As she spoke to them, the first boy took in her appearance. She was middle-aged, plastered with make-up and sported masses of rose and motia garlands in her hair. She was dressed in a screaming red chiffon sari and her blouse seemed to have been made not to cover but to reveal her body. She led the boys to a corner of the room and seated them. As soon as he sat down, the first boy immediately spat the paan out into a spittoon nearby. It was hard for him to talk with his mouth full of paan; besides he did not quite like its feel or flavor. The other three boys were speaking in low tones. He looked around at the other men in the room who reclined against the cushions with wads of notes and bottles of alcohol in front of them. Most of the older men were dressed in starched white clothes; it was the first time he had seen so many people dressed in white other than at Eid congregations. He himself was dressed casually in black jeans and a black T-shirt like his friends and the younger crowd.
    A little later, another woman in garish clothes entered the hall and, seating herself in the centre, began to sing a ghazal. Musicians accompanied her. After a few songs, she collected the money that had been showered on her and left. Then the famous actress for whom they had all been waiting entered the hall and everyone's eyes were riveted on her. She twirled around and welcomed her admirers with a gracious nod.
    The musicians did not play this time and loud recordings of raucous songs filled the room. The performer began to dance. The silence that had preceded her performance was broken by applause as the men noisily appreciated her dancing and drinks went around. Some of the more intoxicated men got up and began to dance with her. The only one who sat still watching the performance was the first boy. His face was impassive, but if one looked closely it was obvious that he was enjoying himself. When the actress came to the end of her dance about two hours later, most of the men in the hall had passed out. Going home was not a problem for them as they had not come with the intention of going back any time soon—they were there for the night. The four boys also spent the night there.
    The next day, on their way back, one of the boys turned to the first one who was looking out of the car. 'So, how was the experience?' 'All right,' he replied casually.
    'All right? That's all? Honestly...' Annoyed, he broke off in mid-sentence.
    'It's a good place to visit occasionally. What more can I say? But it did not have that "something special" touch about it. My girlfriend is better than the woman I spent last night with,' he retorted.

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    Hashim Mubeen's entire family was present at the dining table. They were chatting amiably as they ate. Imama was the subject of their conversation.
    'Baba, have you noticed that Imama is becoming more serious with each passing day?' observed Waseem as he looked at her provokingly.
    'Yes...I've noticed this over the past few months,' Hashim Mubeen replied, his eyes searching Imama's face.
    Imama stared at Waseem as she took a spoonful of rice.
    'Imama, is there a problem?'
    'Baba, he talks nonsense and you fall into his trap. I'm serious and busy because of my studies—after all, not everyone is as useless as Waseem,' she said with some annoyance. He was sitting next to her and she rapped