Under the palm trees

Like a free bird - Part 1

Those who fall in love, with practice without science are like a sailor, who enters a ship without a helm or a compass who never can be certain where he is going.
- Leonardo da Vinci

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Revulsion. And that's what the master's newest wife had initially incited in Basheer. She was never quite the woman he had ever seen in the twenty six years of his life. But more particularly, she was never quite the woman he expected his solemn orthodox master to cherish as a wife.

The news of Omar Hameed's fifth marriage hadn't come off as a big surprise to Basheer. The former four of his wives had failed to provide him with heirs to the valuable throne of his thriving spice business. His fourth marriage was to a delicate half Iranian bride whose heavy lidded demure eyes never dared to look up from the floor to meet with the curious glance of any man. As her father led a large and successful petroleum based company, the nikah was conducted in an even more pompous style than any of his master's previous marriages.

The entire population at the wedding was engrossed in talks of the porcelain beauty of the new bride. Basheer never turned a hair to what seemed to him as an insignificant discussion when the elaborate delicacies that were heavily laid out on the tables were eagerly calling out to him. Pearly white rice bathed in rose water and tender lamb dripping with aromatic spicy juices, pleased his hungry eyes before pleasing his slight beginnings of a pot belly. He delightedly punctuated the marriage ceremony with a nasty burp. There was no questioning of his immense pleasure in indulging himself in good food.

Three years had easily flown after the grand marriage but the news of children had yet to embrace the expectant ears of family and friends. Basheer knew a fifth marriage was most likely to happen soon and he always smiled at the thought of another magnificent feast. But the fifth nikah was conducted at the bride's motherland. He had released few of the world's most dispirited sighs at the thought of someone else enjoying the delectable dishes he had missed out on.

Basheer was crouching down next to the tyres of a shiny, blue and grey ombré Mercedes one fine morning. Armed with expired hair shampoo and wet washcloth, he was relentlessly scrubbing out the grime and rusty brown earth of Malabar from between the folds and crevices of the expensive tyres, that were unquestionably better suited for the western roads. His deft fingers meticulously traced the shiny silver- plated majestic Mercedes logo. He favoured cars as much as he fantasised about food. His love for cars could be traced back to the days when his own father had served the same Hameed household as a trustworthy driver and unofficial chauffeur. Five year old scrawny Basheer used to take great pleasure in tagging along with his father to his work. It was his timid and loyal father who had taught him the unconventional art of driving and washing of cars. Soon after Abdul Hameed had handed the heavy reins of his business to his only son, his own father had retired, leaving Basheer with his old job.

Standing up from his uncomfortable posture, he admired the exquisite car which was glinting in muted shades of blue and green under the fresh mid morning sunlight. Though an array of various other cars, equally luxurious, were decked out in Omar's elaborate garage at the back of the mansion, this particular car was the master's most preferred. Hence the car had acquired a designated slot in the master's lavish verandah. The Benz had been gifted to Omar by his late father, when he had taken up the business. It was also the first car, Basheer had been entitled to drive when he was newly appointed as the driver. Just as his master found a heartfelt connection to the car, Basheer couldn't help but find some sort of similar affection. With a small smile, he lovingly caressed the shiny hood of the car. He also took great pride in his master's adamancy of never allowing no one other than Basheer to operate the gears of his favourite car. His master's indistinctive yet palpable trust on him weighed his shoulders as well as lightened his heart simultaneously.