Musharraf Farooqi - Between Clay and Dust

Banday Ali’s silence at the news had forced Gohar Jan to say, “You always asked me to rest. I have finally decided to take your advice.”

But Gohar Jan was conscious that she had compromised a principle of her life. She could not help it. She did not wish anything to intrude on or hinder her evening recital. The threat of its disruption by repairs to the room again made her conscious of how much she cherished those moments. And yet she could not bring herself to share her reasons with Banday Ali.

On Gulab Deen’s advice Ustad Ramzi paid for an advertisement in the newspaper and the whole city learned that Ustad Ramzi’s younger brother would be defending the title of Ustad-e-Zaman for his clan.

Tamami stopped his exercises two days before the fight to allow his body some rest to make it more flexible.

The trainees spent these days marking the stalls for the spectators, and turning and smoothing the clay in the newly made akhara in the exhibition grounds. The night before the bout, it was sprinkled with rose water. Tamami and Imama had separately visited the place the previous evening and had been satisfied with the softness of the clay.

The lights in the trainee quarters were extinguished, and the words of ayat-e-karima, with which Prophet Yunus had sought deliverance in the darkness of the leviathan’s belly, were recited over each almond for up to five thousand and one hundred times. Early in the morning a special preparation of sardai made from these almonds was fed to Tamami.

The promoter brought along a photographer who took a number of photographs of Tamami with Gulab Deen. Trainees prevailed on Ustad Ramzi, too, to have one taken with his brother.

A clan elder sent two sacks of almonds for the akhara and a turban of braided silk with a cash gift for Tamami.

Pitchers of sardai were sent from Imama’s akhara to the exhibition grounds for the spectators.

People had begun turning out since early morning to secure a good spot. They filled the stalls of the exhibition ground hours before the bout. The walls of the adjoining alleys were also lined with people, who had climbed up there when they could not find a better view. Some had managed to get inside the exhibition grounds through one of the loosely guarded entrances. Gulab Deen bitterly complained that he had been cheated out of their ticket money.

Tamami was being massaged by three trainees. He kept lying on his belly, his head turned to one side.

It occurred to Tamami that if he won against Imama, he would have beaten the man who very nearly defeated Ustad Ramzi — the man who would certainly defeat Ustad Ramzi if they were to fight again. Tamami realized it was he who was defending the title of Ustad-e-Zaman. Did that not mean that in all fairness it belonged to him? Would Ustad Ramzi not see that and bow out in his favor?

Tamami could read no answer in the eyes of Ustad Ramzi as he fumed Tamami’s fighter’s belt and turban with an incense burner.

A distant beating of the dhol was heard in the alleys. It signaled that Imama was on his way to the akhara.

Tamami got up from the massage bench.

Ustad Ramzi tied the turban on Tamami’s head.

Concerned that his clan should be seen to make the least show of vanity at that important moment, Ustad Ramzi instructed Kabira to ensure that Tamami entered the akhara before Imama. He also told him to make sure the excited trainees did not make any disparaging comments about Imama or his clan.

Even as Ustad Ramzi gave his last instructions, the trainees picked up Tamami on their shoulders and headed out of the akhara to the exhibition grounds.

❖

As happened with true champions, when Tamami stepped into the akhara his body seemed to have been transformed and become larger in anticipation of the fight.

Ustad Ramzi saw Imama’s eyes flash with jealousy when Tamami removed the embroidered coverlet from his body. Ustad Ramzi realized Imama must have been reminded of his crippled son — now sitting on the sidelines.

When Ustad Ramzi saw the contestants approach the judge for permission to begin, he felt relieved that his struggle to see Tamami through that stage was over. His clan would soon be delivered from Imama’s challenge. The next step for him would be to help Tamami choose a protégé among his trainees and prepare a schedule to guide him through the initial phase of his training. Tamami could take over his supervision from there. The clan’s defense would then become fully impregnable.

Ustad Ramzi saw Imama bend down. He picked up the akhara clay and rubbed it over Tamami’s body as a token of admiration by a senior pahalwan towards his adversary. By rubbing Tamami’s body with clay to allow for better grip during holds, Imama had implied he expected it to be a long, drawn-out encounter and not one that would end with a few moves. It was a gesture of goodwill and sportsmanship, and it was not lost on the trainees of the two clans who cheered the contestants. The pahalwans embraced, stepped back, and did quick leg-squats to flex their muscles.

It seemed to Ustad Ramzi that, through the force of his will, he had perpetuated the glory of his clan to which his life had been dedicated. Immersed in these thoughts, he almost missed Imama’s opening move.

❖

Tamami had broken Imama’s hold with just a shrug of his upper body. They faced each other again. In that brief interlude, as Imama was preparing for the next move, some trainees from Imama’s clan began shouting:

“Throw him down, Imama!”

“Show him once more who the true champion is!”

Tamami’s eyes met Ustad Ramzi’s. He thought he saw a sneer on Ustad Ramzi’s face. Perhaps Ustad Ramzi wondered if he would try to prolong the fight. Tamami’s body became tense and the expression on his face hardened. His eyes were fixed on Imama’s. He resolved to show his brother how quickly he could eliminate his adversary.

At that moment he considered that if he gave the fight to Imama it would open the way for him to wrest the title from him later, after Imama had vanquished Ustad Ramzi. He would not have to be indebted to Ustad Ramzi for withdrawing in his favor. Shocked at the baseness of his thoughts, Tamami violently shook his head.

“Throw him down, Imama! Throw him down!” the chorus continued.

The trainees from Ustad Ramzi’s clan now answered:

“Don’t show him any mercy, Tamami, if you are your mother’s son!”

“Kill the rat now, Tamami! Enough of playing with him!”

Imama’s clan was to blame for starting the shouting match, but Ustad Ramzi was angered by this breakdown of discipline among the trainees of his clan. He shouted at them to shut up.

The thought of losing to Imama again entered Tamami’s mind. He tried to drive the thought away. Imama lurched forward to attack. Tamami hit out as a sudden surge of power filled his body.

Imama reeled and fell, struck on his left temple by Tamami’s powerful forearm. People roared with excitement, but the next moment everyone fell quiet. Imama had rolled over and become still.

No one sitting around the akhara moved. Only those standing in the back rows surged forward to see what had happened. Someone from Imama’s clan shouted, calling for a doctor. As Tamami moved toward him, he was held back by Kabira.

As the members of Ustad Imama’s clan began pouring into the akhara, Kabira signaled to the trainees, who quickly circled Tamami and took him away to a safe distance.

❖

“Imama is dead!” Ustad Ramzi muttered to himself in disbelief.

The pahalwan’s corpse was carried away to the hospital for a post-mortem after the doctor confirmed his death. A couple of hours after the incident, the police arrived to record the witnesses’ statements. Tamami was deposed before a magistrate. Ustad Ramzi accompanied him to the court for the deposition. After returning to his quarters Tamami locked himself in his room. Ustad Ramzi sent everyone away.