Walli – In the Name of M. (Part-III)

Walli’s timeline of resurrections is as smooth as a tragedy. A tragedy that lives inside a being forever.

Remember that story of Musa asking the shepherd to pray properly as directed by God and not commit blasphemy? The shepherd stopped talking and loving God the way he did. He adopted Musa’s directions of praying as defined by the religion. But God didn’t like it and told Musa that He liked the unorthodox way of the shepherd; which Musa ruined.

O’ Musa! What have you done?

Musa went back and found the shepherd after a long struggle and told the shepherd about what God had said. The shepherd smiled, and left. There was no way to go back.

A smile. A smirk. It has always been like that.

And long after Musa, Walli realized how Musa did him wrong, and not only disrupted his one life, but the whole timeline of resurrections… as smooth as one tragedy that lives inside. Like cancer. It runs through your body like blood. Hurting your heart. With every beat. Thump. Thump.

A gradual painful death but not death. You wish for death and when you get it, you are born again to pass through the same corridors of hell.

O’ Musa! What have you done?

Do you even know what hell is? It is here. It is now.

O’ Musa! That was not blasphemy. It was loved by God. Dwell deep down and you will find that there is no ONE WAY. There are ways. Even preaching (tableegh) is not allowed the way you think. If preaching was allowed, then why did God disapprove of your preaching to the shepherd?

I am the shepherd. That shepherd.

I am the wanderer who was loved by God when he was not following God’s path.

I am the being who was approved and the Prophet was disapproved.

I am the blasphemy. That sweet blasphemy that was endorsed by the Creator.

I am Walli. That Walli.

She’s eight years old today. The last time they met was on 30th June, 2016 in Family Court of Lahore.

2,110 days. 5 years, 9 months, 11 days. 69 months, 11 days. 50,640 hours. Whatever. Does counting even matter? Does preaching matter? Does blasphemy matter?

I matter. You matter. Pain matters.

With a smile. A smirk.

Any guilt? No. Anger, yes; but no guilt. This pain and this distance has been nurtured to evolve into an übermensch of pain. How can one opt for devolution?

From Socrates’ drinking of poisoned water with a smirk.

From Mansur Al Haj’s blasphemous death with a laugh.

From Neitzsche’s brain eating amoeba with ecstasy.

From Hussain’s sacrifice for every single blood drop of the family against fascism with a cool breeze blowing from the heaven.

From that shepherd’s love who was blessed by blasphemy and ruined by religion.

To Walli. To here and now. This. Feel this. Today. Never-ending today and the pain which ignites blasphemy, an approved blasphemy by God.

People die. Men die. History vanishes. But pain remains. It’s not Walli’s body but his pain that resurrects again and again.

And again.

Till it’s all over with the Judgement Day. And that Day will be a deliverance for all except those who created pain. You shall see. The day that has been promised. You shall see.

And who created pain in the first place? That’s where it ends. That’s where it starts. That’s where Walli commits blasphemy and a Prophet comes to ruin his life. One life at a time.

That moment of life is stuck. Handing M. over to her mother, never to happen in reverse. To wait for 496 days to meet again. And then with episodes of meetings in the visiting room of the Court for 6 months, the waiting was initiated again. 2,110 days and counting.

Come down dear Lord! Come down for a day. Live in pain for a day. Feel the thumps of a dying heart for a day. Come down and wait for someone you love. Experience what waiting feels like. Come down and wander across the timelines of people who have lost their kids – for a day or forever – and feel this and then let the heavens fall for the Judgement Day. Let this be the end.

Or the beginning of blasphemy. Send someone – a Prophet – again and legalize blasphemy. In the next resurrection of Walli, let it be the century of blasphemy so that pain can be given its due words.

With a smile. A smirk.

You shall see!

1 thought on “Walli – In the Name of M. (Part-III)”

  1. It is beautifully written, however I did find Nietzsche’s part and Mansur Al Haj to be somewhat, not all there? I mean out of place. Beautifully written, inspiring. I’m also a writer and I’ve been trying yo write somewhat in this manner. Thank you for inspiration. Keep it up 🖤

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