An Exclusive Excerpt From Death Of Dreams: A Terrorist's Tale
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Inside A VIP Cell An Exclusive Excerpt From Death Of Dreams: A Terrorist's Tale |
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When is Jaal going to get me out of here? It's been over six months! I'm getting pretty worried: just last week I read Sherbaz Khan Mazari's autobiography, and the part about how a previous military regime had certain political leaders arrested and boned by the Karachi police worries me no end. And recently they threw that fat guy who used to run this country into my cell! Talk about overcrowding. His Shiny Baldness isn't a bad sort though. He's pretty religious - five times a day he gets down on his knees, bends over, and prays… to the late Zia-ul Haq. "General Zia, you got me into all this, now you get me out," he mutters, pressing his rosary to his shut eyelids. He generally complains to the late Zia about the same thing that he has been complaining to justice Rehmat Hussain Jaffri about - the pathetic condition of the toilet here. That's all he mentions to the press, particularly the English media. That's all he mentions to his lawyers. That's all he mentions to that human rights lady, Asma Jehangir. The other day, he was asked if he wanted a message sent to Kulsoom and Miriam, and he said "Yes, send more t.p.".  I asked him whether democracy wasn't more important than toiletry. "You're absolutely right," he said, after much thought. "I'll ask them to get you a roll also.""No no," I said. "I'm talking about the murder of democracy, the interruption of participatory politics, the cornering of meagre resources by the establishment, the deprivation of development, the increasing militancy of religion and society… doesn't it all stink?" "Of course it stinks, that's why I tell judge Jaffri to have this jail john cleaned up." There's not much sense in trying to get through to him, so I've given up. We both sit quietly, though once in a while, when he hears a bus rumble by in the distance, he runs to the window and shouts, "Vajpayee saheb! Ruk jaye! Thoda paper bhej dijiye!" We had a surprise just yesterday. Guess who else was put in our cell? Hansie Cronje! He was livid. "I deny taking money. I deny fixing matches. I deny talking to the Indians. But most of all, I deny being here," he said. Nawaz brightened up. "I too denied taking money. I too denied talking to the Indians. I too denied fixing Kargil. But just look at this dirty toilet, without any paper…" Hansie looked. "How am I supposed to take a dump?" Then he noticed me: "Why are you here?" "Same as you guys. One of you dumped on Pakistan, the other dumped on the cricket field. Me, I dump all over cyberspace with this idiotic site called Jaal…" Aditya Sinha trained under Al-Faridi Gnu Mann at a camp near Khost, in Afghanistan. Read An Excerpt From His Second Book: Death of Dreams: A Terrorist's Tale |
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