Life of Akbar

Akhtar Allahabadi

Description

An epic tale of determination and devotion as a intellectually gifted young man sets out on a quest to avoid the jihad and marry his love.
While growing up in a village in a mountainous region spread across both Afghan and Pakistani territories, Akbar Khan transforms into an understanding and intelligent boy who is devoted to his studies of the Quran and resolving problems. In a land where no one argues with the Taliban, his parents do their best to keep him from being thrust into the JIHAAD against the enemies of Islam, for Akbar is highly regarded in their village and in demand for his wisdom beyond his years.

When he is thirteen, Akbar notices Jameela. Almost immediately, Akbar becomes determined to follow his heart and make her his through marriage, no matter how long it takes. As he begins to work on making his dream come true, a chain of unexpected events unfold, and how he maneuvres his own destiny through the dangers of life amongst the Taliban and how Kismet helps him escape to a near-normal life and happiness.

Life of Akbar: Part One is an epic tale of determination and devotion as an intellectually gifted young man who sets out on a quest to avoid jihad and try and eliminate poverty and spread education amongst the poor of the country.

Sujets

• Islam
• Fiction
• Romance
• Akbar Khan

Informations

• Publié par: AuthorHouse UK
• Date de parution: 28 août 2022
• Nombre de lectures: 0
• EAN13: 9781665599962
• Langue: English
• Poids de l'ouvrage: 1 Mo

Extrait

LIFE OF AKBAR
PART ONE (LIFE WITH TALIBAN)
AKHTAR ALLAHABADI


AuthorHouse™ UK
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Bloomington, IN 47403 USA
www.authorhouse.co.uk
Phone: UK TFN: 0800 0148641 (Toll Free inside the UK) UK Local: (02) 0369 56322 ([phone] from outside the UK)
 
 
 
 
 
 
© 2022 Akhtar Allahabadi. All rights reserved.
 
No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted by any means without the written permission of the author.
 
Published by AuthorHouse 08/18/2022
 
ISBN: 978-1-6655-9995-5 (sc)
ISBN: 978-1-6655-9996-2 (e)
 
Library of Congress Control Number: 2022912487
 
 
 
Any people depicted in stock imagery provided by Getty Images are models, and such images are being used for illustrative purposes only.
Certain stock imagery © Getty Images.
 
 
 
Because of the dynamic nature of the Internet, any web addresses or links contained in this book may have changed since publication and may no longer be valid. The views expressed in this work are solely those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the views of the publisher, and the publisher hereby disclaims any responsibility for them.
CONTENTS
Chapter 1Akbar Khan
Chapter 2The Story of Basheer Ullah, the Amir
Chapter 3The Gulistan Training Centre
Chapter 4The Child Marriage
Chapter 5Two Documents
Chapter 6A Visit to Quetta
Chapter 7Back to the Centre
Chapter 8Justice
Chapter 9Shopkeeper’s Folly
Chapter 10Another Wedding
Chapter 11The Government in Quetta
Chapter 12The Fragrance of a Woman
Chapter 13A Letter to Jameela
Chapter 14Safron Khan
Chapter 15The Tall American
Chapter 16Tanveer Ahmed Cheema
Chapter 17The Russian Girl
Chapter 18Russian Retreat
Chapter 19The Exams
Chapter 20Colonel Bahadur Khan
Chapter 21Najmunnissan
Chapter 22Akbar Khan, the Reception of His Wife
Chapter 23Colonel Bahadur Khan, Part 2
Chapter 24Francis Marker
Chapter 25Course in Sabotage and Disguise
Chapter 26The Wedding in the Mosque
Chapter 27The Russian Withdrawal
Chapter 28The Peaceful Wedding
Chapter 29Aalima, the Girl from Swat
Chapter 30A Treasure Chest
Chapter 31The Sermon
Chapter 32Fazeelat
Chapter 33A New Life
Chapter 34Freedom for India
Chapter 35The Big Day
Chapter 36Independence and Division
Chapter 37Kashmir
Chapter 38The Road to Diagram
Chapter 39The Blown-Up Bridge
Chapter 40“This One Is Alive”
Chapter 41In Islamabad
Chapter 42Back to Jhelum
Chapter 43Another Marriage
Chapter 44A Job for Me
Chapter 45A Car for Akbar
Chapter 46Akbar’s Exams
Chapter 47A Trip to the University
Chapter 48Arrangements
Chapter 49Colonel Bahadur’s Story—The Jhelum Airstrip
Chapter 50Captain Masoom’s Story, Part 1
Chapter 51Life Back at the Centre
Chapter 52Captain Masoom Story, Part 2
Chapter 53The Bombing of Afghanistan
Chapter 54Not Alone Anymore
Chapter 55Gladys

I dedicate this book to my friend Dr. Alistair Blair. Without his appreciation and constant friendly encouragement, this collection of stories would not have seen the light of day
CHAPTER 1
AKBAR KHAN
T HE DARK AND STARRY NIGHT had covered the mountains and the valley in a quiet, slumberous repose. It was still quiet and dark when the moazzin’s shrill voice, boosted by an electronic microphone, shattered the peace. His call to prayers cut through the sky:
“Allaaaho Akbar . Allaaaaho Akbar (God is great). I depose that Mohammad is His beloved prophet. Come to pray. It is prayer time. Do not sleep. Pray.”
And as if God Himself had called, Mujahid Khan woke from his sleep.
Mujahid was an old warrior of about sixty years and was not in deep sleep anyway. It was his habit to get up this early, winter or summer, and go through his ablutions and go to the mosque for prayers. His wife, Sakina, was the same and was quickly awake. Their son, young Akbar, was fast sleep in his young repose, dreaming of fantastic things. He was only thirteen years old. His younger sister, Marium, was only ten. She too did not budge. Sakina called out to the children to get up and get ready for prayers. She had to go and shake up both children to wake them up.
Mariam got up quickly, fixed her hair and clothes, and walked slowly, sleepily, to the bathroom, murmuring, ‘Yes, Mum. Why don’t you stir up Akbar just as you do me?’
Sakina shouted, ‘Akbar, oh, Akbar, get up, son, or you will be late for the prayers.’
Akbar stretched his arms and legs out of the sheet he was sleeping under and grunted. ‘Yes, Mum. Have I ever been late before?’
‘Yes, you are quite often late,’ Sakina said. ‘Your father and the molvi of the mosque complain.’
Akbar grunted as if to protest, but no one can protest in matters of the religion. So, he huffed and puffed a little, threw off his sheet, and staggered towards the male bathroom. His father, Mujahid, was just coming out of the bathroom when he caught sight of his son crawling towards it.
‘Good morning, son. Get through your ablutions and let us go to the mosque. Hurry up.’
Akbar mumbled something in agreement with his father and was soon ready to go.
It was still quite dark. As the father and son walked to the mosque, Akbar observed to his father, ‘Dad, this mullah wakes us up much too early. Look, it is really dark still—the stars are glittering—and he gets us all out of azan bed hours early.’
Mujahid in a scolding voice said, ‘Shh! Don’t talk like that about the molvi, Nadir. He knows when it is time. These stars play games, and if you are caught out, God help you. He is a respectable old man. He taught you and other children the Quran and Hadees. Just go and pray and keep nice thoughts about him in your head.’
Some other men and boys of the village joined them along the way, and in the mosque there were collected about fifteen persons from the village. Molvi Nadir solemnly greeted all of them with customary ‘Good morning.’ Then he faced towards the west to Mecca and recited the azan once again. He then stepped in the mehrab at the head of the congregation and started the recitation of the prayers. With great reverence and silent submission, they all followed the imam and completed their morning prayers in about fifteen minutes.
After completing their payers, the young boys quickly left the mosque to go back home and maybe to resume their slumber. The older folk sat down on the floor of the mosque to have a usual natter.
When Akbar got home, he was disappointed to see that his mother had folded up his bedding and put it away. Also she had taken the cot and stored it by the wall in the yard. This annoyed the young fellow, and he stared at his little sister and growled, ‘You naughty girl. You put away my bedding in jealousy so that I may not be able to snooze some more. Wait till I get my chance. I will fix you!’

The girl had washed her face, fixed her hair, changed into her days clothing, and smiled at her brother’s outburst. Mariam giggled and said, ‘Big brother, speak to your mum instead of shouting at poor me. I am only a small girl.’
Sakina heard what was being said and said to Akbar, ‘Stop being grouchy. Go and fix yourself up and get ready for a nice yummy breakfast instead of bothering your sister. You have to go to the molvi for studies and have to give a small recitation in the neighbouring village.’
At this, poor Akbar said, ‘That is two days on, Mum.’
He then slunk off to his room where he had a shower and changed into clean clothes. The sweet smell of food wafted along into his nostrils, and his mood changed into that of a hungry young lad.
He presented himself at the dining mat and sat down, waiting to be served. His mother brought for him the nice-smelling egg omelette and potato, fried with the usual tasty parathas. He was really hungry and tucked in quite a lot of the stuff.
Marium slyly remarked, ‘Oh, brother dear, don’t finish all of this. Dad has to come and eat too, you know.’
Akbar made a face at his sister and said, ‘Go and make some more.’
His mother smiled and said to Akbar, ‘Don’t worry, son. There is plenty more. She is only teasing you. Eat more if you want.’
Akbar made a face and complained to his mother, ‘Then why is she teasing me all the time?’
Sakina said, ‘Because your pretence of being the big brother amuses her, and she enjoys teasing big brother.’
‘But I am the big brother,’ Akbar said, ‘and she had better start to respect me.’
Father Mujahid walked in at this time. He smiled at the banter and said to Akbar, ‘Yes, big boy. Just you make sure you behave like a big boy. Leave your sister alone. Now get ready and go to Molvi Nadir. He is waiting for you. He has special programme for you today.’
Sakina asked Mujahid, ‘What was the meeting about in the mosque?’
‘There was a demand from the front for some more volunteers for fighting,’ Mujahid said. ‘A lot of young men have been eliminated, and they want more young men to go and fight. They have an eye on Akbar and other kids in the village.’
Sakina became somewhat agitated. ‘Don’t look at my Akbar. We have already given two sons. Is that sacrifice not enough? He is all we have. The girls get married and go away. The son looks after us in our old age. He is the one who will look after us and the family business. All the young men have disappeared from our villages, and there is no one to marry the girls. What will happen to them?’
‘Be quiet, woman,’ Mujahid said. ‘You know the Taliban. Who can argue with them?’
Sakina began to cry and went very quiet.
It was bri