The right choice?

I was si ng in the yard with my youngest child, Amir in my lap, trying to feed him a gruel of cereal
and ghee. He was racing his favorite toy car over my hands and face, pushing away the morsel I was trying
to put in his mouth. Wasim was playing with Zara and Hasan in the yard. Zara was riding on his shoulders
and they both were trying to catch Hasan.

‘You can’t catch me daddy, I am the fastest runner in my school,’ said Hasan, our eldest son,
successfully evading his father who pretended to have given him a hard chase. Zara, who was bouncing on
her father’s shoulders, excitedly clapped her hands and said, ‘come on daddy, catch bhaijan fast.’ Wasim
winked at his four year old angel and started chasing Hasan with a preten ous vigour. As Amir turned his
a en on towards his siblings who were making such a din, I successfully managed to finish feeding him
the gruel, taking advantage of the distrac on. Then I took him inside to wipe his face and change his tunic,
which was stained with all the dribbled food. I carried him back to the yard and rocked him in my lap. He
slowly dri ed away to sleep as the cold breeze caressed him.

A li le while later, the children took a break from their play to drink water and Wasim went in to
fetch snacks and fruits. As we sat there peacefully, relaxing and frolicking, li le did I imagine that this
Sunday would be any different from the rest. I should have known be er when we were visited by Zakir,
my husband’s colleague, who worked with him in the fabric factory and also in a secret business, both of
which were owned by a person, whom Wasim would only refer to as ‘Boss’.

My husband got a job there, a few months a er Zara’s birth, a er a long period of unemployment.
Due to recession, his previous employee had been forced to cut down workers. I s ll remember the
jubilant celebra ons that followed the appointment, a er a long period of despondency and melancholy.
He started earning a decent amount of money, enough to rent a room in the chawl and meet all our basic
requirements; though there were a few mes, when we both had to skip a meal to keep our children
sa ated and happy. To earn some extra cash, Wasim started doing odd jobs for his Boss’ other business,
which involved handling weird chemicals, wiring, oddly shaped instruments and dirty ruffians.

Ini ally, he did not know the exact nature and extent of these rackets and was reluctant to get
deeply involved, except for just running a few errands and conveying coded messages; but our financial
condi on and peer pressure forced him to do more important and in mate jobs. Then suddenly, one
evening when he came home from work, he looked very grave and pensive. ‘I have made a very big
mistake Nazia. These people are more dangerous, destruc ve and powerful than I ever imagined,’ he said
and then launched into a detailed explana on of this other business, as I sat there, listening in a shocked
silence. As the true meaning of his words sunk in slowly, I felt the safety and integrity of my family
crashing down and I also realized the grievousness of our offense.

I tried to persuade him against any further involvement in this business and pleaded with him to
leave this job and search for employment elsewhere, but he said that we were already too deep into the
muck to try to turn back and there was also the problem of our financial condi on. We both knew the
importance of a permanent job with a steadfast income. Even though he condemned the thought of
working for such devils, he con nued to do so, vowing never to be involved in the core of this nefarious
work and stay as aloof as possible.

I was never complacent a er that day and began depreca ng Wasim for the work he was doing for
such monsters and finally managed to persuade him to leave the accursed job. We would save enough
money to move to another village or city and then quietly sneak out, away from all this evil, before
anyone gets any whim of it. We had started working on our plan and would have successfully arranged
everything in a couple of months, when we were visited by Zakir, on that fateful day which turned
everything upside down.

Kismet has planned something else for us, or more fi ngly, the Boss had something else planned for
us. Maybe he grew suspicious and realized our true inten ons or he had this ploy in mind beforehand,
whatever the reason, he sent Zakir to summon Wasim to the factory. Zakir pleaded forgiveness and
expressed helplessness with his eyes but I didn’t quite understand why, thinking he had just been called
for some usual work.

I understood everything that night when Wasim came home, dragged by some hooligans, who le
him at the door and began patrolling the area some distance away from our house. As he staggered
through the door, I saw that he was completely drenched in sweat even though the air was cool, his face
was drained of all colour and his eyes were filled with dread. He collapsed on the half broken chair and
didn’t say anything for a long me. I gave him water and gently asked what the ma er was. He stu ered a
few indis nct words through tears ‘a ack..suicide..children..torture’.

I froze, my mind racing to find meaning to these words. Wasim slowly regained his composure and
spoke so ly, ‘Boss has asked me to carry out a bombing a ack in a hotel. He said that it is to eliminate
unworthy and unwanted people from the world and I will go straight to heaven for this good work. In
return, he has promised to take care of my family financially. If I refuse, he will..he will flay our children,
mu late them and kill them slowly in front of our eyes.’

It felt as though my heart was on fire. I suddenly became hysterical and started blabbering incoherent
words. I wanted to wail loudly and run to somebody for help. All our fears were confirmed. The
malevolence we were running away from, had lashed back at us violently. Wasim had to slap me back to
normalcy ‘shhh.. You’ll wake the children,’ he said.

‘Let us run away Wasim. We’ll go to the police, we’ll beg on the streets, but we can’t be part of this
crime and I cannot afford to lose you, I love you too much’ I pleaded with him, though deep down I knew
there was no escape from this thing. ‘You know very well Nazia that we cannot do anything now. Would
you rather watch our children be tortured. Boss has influence and power at every level and strata of
society. I cannot go anywhere now, but to hell for commi ng such a heinous crime, or else I will have to
watch my family being slaughtered,’ he said.

One look at my innocent children sleeping blissfully, chased out all rebellious thoughts from my
head. Our morality, which didn’t permit our conscience to be even remotely associated with the work of
taking innocent lives and abhor it enough to make us leave behind everything we had had achieved in a
life me, stood nowhere now, in the face of our children. Des ny had planned a cruel paradox for us. My
heart grieved at the prospect of having to lose my husband to such a nefarious cause. He had always been
a strong pillar of support to me and I loved him with all my soul. Also, the mere thought of so much blood
on our hands set my conscience afire.

Un l that moment, I hadn’t imagined it possible for a person to feel so many different depressing
thoughts together and s ll be sane enough to survive through it, but the human mind can surprise us all
some mes, can’t it? I hoped that I had surmised all this up and everything was going to be alright in the
morning and this will just prove to be another nightmare.

At the break of dawn, I got up and peered through the window and saw the hooligans s ll standing
guard. I knew that last night’s events were rock solid real and not some incubus. By this me Amir had
woken up and had started crying. I regained my senses, calmed myself and prepared food for him. As I
was feeding him, I saw Wasim lying curled up in a corner, shivering violently. If I was feeling so
tumultuous, then I could only pretend to imagine what was going through my dear husband’s mind. I
knew that he wasn’t afraid to die, but he was afraid to orphan his family, he was afraid to kill so many
people, he was afraid to snatch them forever from their loved ones. He believed that no has the right to
take a life, that en tlement solely rests with the creator, it is a crime of the highest order to do otherwise;
but what choice did he have, than to commit such a crime himself? No parent can watch their children be
subjected to such sadis c torture.

A er I finished feeding my child, I got up and embraced Wasim. We slowly accepted the finality of it
and tried to give each other strength to go through it. We tried to be very clandes ne about everything
and pretended everything was normal. Wasim spent the last few days with his children, especially Zara,
who was the sun and star of his eyes; playing with them, telling them stories, helping them with their
homework; and with me, holding my hands and speaking words of comfort.

The mundane hour finally arrived. We had le our children in the care of a family friend. I was alone
with him in our house. His eyes were moist but his voice was steady as he spoke ‘I’m sorry Nazia, for all
the trouble I have given you. Forgive me, I couldn’t be a be er husband. As soon as you receive the
promised money, take the children and leave this accursed place. Go to your parents’ na ve village or
move on to another city. Even though we are not educated much, educate all our children as much as
possible and teach them to be independent. Help them rise to a high posi on, so that they never, ever
have to do anything like us out of despera on. I know I am leaving you all alone in this world with a lot of
responsibili es, but you are a strong woman my dear, I am confident you’ll manage everything. Just
remember that I have and will always love you Nazia. Even though I’m not by your side every day, I’ll
always be within you’. He then kissed me on my forehead.

At that moment, three rowdies arrived, grabbed a handful of his shirt and pulled him up. Then they
unbu oned his shirt and strapped the explosive around his waist and bu oned the shirt back again. They
slapped him and warned him to carry out the task as planned and not act over smart. As soon as he was
within a block from the hotel, he was supposed to ac vate the mer in front of them, to ensure that there
is no turning back. Then they would leave him and he had to walk alone to the hotel and wait
inconspicuously for the explosion to take place. They allowed him to hug me one last me and then
dragged him away. They told him to act normal as if he was on his everyday rou ne.

As he started to leave, tears welled up in my eyes and my chest was about to explode. I wanted to
die with him but I knew that I had to be strong, for the sake of our children. I only had a few last seconds
to look at him. I observed him carefully as he walked to the door. I knew me was running out but I
suppressed the urge to check my watch. I took a deep breath and started coun ng in reverse under my
breath ‘ten, nine, eight, seven ….’. As I reached zero, he had turned down the lane. I had seen the last of
my husband. I gathered myself up and went to pick up the children from our friend’s place.

The next morning, I didn’t need the newspaper to tell me about the number of lives lost in a bombing
a ack at the hotel. I didn’t need anyone to tell me the number of souls, so unexpectedly detached from
their bodies, the number of children who were orphaned, the number of sons and daughters so
unceremoniously snatched away from their mothers, the number of men who had lost their en re family.
I knew that these numbers were what had ensured safety for my children. This was the price that others
had to pay for the lives of three children, whose father was too weak to sacrifice them for humanity,
whose mother sacrificed her rec tude, virtues and decency to keep them whole, unflayed and not
mu lated.

I know that there was no right choice in this ma er. I also know that if Wasim had refused, the Boss
wouldn’t have hesitated to carry out his threat and would have fulfilled the task with some other pawn,
but my conscience will never allow me to rest in peace for the rest of my life. However remotely, by force
or by will, the fact that I am also responsible for the grievances of so many people will gnaw at my mind,
every minute of every hour of every day of my life.

Even today, nineteen years later, I s ll remember every detail as if it were yesterday. I took my
husband’s par ng advice and shi ed to another city. I had received the promised amount of money, the
next day itself; but I loathed to even touch the money which had come out of such an iniquitous
juggernaut. I donated everything to the ‘Disaster relief fund’. I found a part me job which barely sufficed
for my children’s educa on. I gradually started working more, at mes for 18 hours a day, apart from the
household work and managed to bring up and educate my children well. Hasan has now set up his
business and owns a small company, Zara has completed her doctorate and Amir will graduate from his
college next week.

Though all of them earn a luxurious sum of money, I have always taught them to keep only what is
needed to lead a simple life in a humble house and donate the rest. I have not yet told them the exact
cause, circumstance and manner of their father’s death (again, a mother’s weakness to keep her children
in a cocoon), but I have inculcated enough values and taught them enough ethics to make them
compassionate to the sufferings of others, to not to indulge in anything except the absolute, basic
necessi es of life and use the surplus to help those in need.

P.S. I am going to tell them the truth of their father’s death on Amir’s gradua on day. May goodness
prevail and protect my children, their rec tude and the memory of their father.

___________

(story by Krithika Ramamoorthy)