Windy Wagon's Journey to Peace

It had four wheels. and a thousand prayers accompanied it on its way to the other side of the valley. It crawled along the dirt roads which led into the mountains of Nishapur .nine year old Jamilla peeped out of the wagon and squinted at the trees trying to look at the setting sun. Dawn, day or dusk had not entered the interiors of the wagon where the family of seven sat quietly as the drivers Jahan and Rabin tried to soundlessly guide it accross the valley.

The wagon was barely functional and was bought from Windy the fortune teller by the Bayat family. Considered as one of the wealthiest families in Kalat, the family was forced to flee their ancestral residence when the tiny town was besieged by invaders from the north. Though lucky to escape the swords and the occupation of the barbaric invaders, they had to leave their gardens and their riches behind and disguise themselves as gypsies travelling to Nishapur. Jamilla and the 5 year old twins Abu and Shibu were the only occupants who were cheerfully playing with the clothes and the ornaments in the wagon. Their mother Naazia was white and frozen in shock and despair at the turn of events and their father was silently looking at the road, his usually smiling face grim and coated with dust.

Jamilla treid engaging her elder brother 15 year old Omar's attention, but was ignored as her brother too was trying to come to grips with circumstance. Bright and pretty Sana was sniffing in the corner of the wagon, trying to forget the town being engulfed in fire and shouting.

'Where are we going Omar? I will never talk to you again unless you answer immediately', Jamilla said crossly clutching at his hands. 'To our Uncle's house in Nishapur', he replied tonelessly. 'Stop fidgeting and go to sleep', he added realizing his parents were too tired and dazed to care for Jamilla and the twins. Responsible and Intelligent as he was, he tried settling the twins by humming to them. In half an hour the wagon was quiet as the twins and Sana were asleep.

Jamilla couldn’t sleep though. she perceived adventure and her heart was beating with excitement as she gazed at the beautiful night sky and the now dark forest from the wagon window. she carved a star into the wagon window and looked up at the smiling stars in the sky. The air was cool and nothing bore a warning or a sign of the tragedy which was about to happen. The stars twinkled above. It could have been an ordinary day in her life. Except that it wasn’t.

The wagon came to a screeching stop. Her parents woke up momentarily and after Joey's assurance that they would start again in a few hours, they went back to a fitful sleep. the twins however had woken up. they too peered up at the sky and looked at the shining lake the wagon had stopped next to. Tired of being cooped up, they snuck out of the wagon, jumping out of the low window, before jamilla could protest and sped towards the lake, hoping to pay in the water. Jamilla immediately jumped out too, but had the presence to wake her brother up as the darkness had swallowed the twins up.

Omar and she ran following the twins and searched frantically calling their names and going further into the thicket which separated them and the lake. After a hour of searching they found them giggling and playing with the water. Kids can be really stupid, she though as she scooped abu up and followed Omar to the wagon. They didn’t find it. As the sun crept back and the birds started makig their sounds again, Jamilla and Omar found the body of their parents and their sister and a pool of blood around the stab wounds. The two hired drivers had murdered the elder Bayats and their sleeping daughter and left with the jewels they had managed to salvage and continued to Nishapur, leaving the two children and the baby twins alone and orphaned. Still, It was a beautiful night.

The Day dawned bright and clear. The village of Kalat slowly stirred and residents got up and went about their morning chores. Twenty years had passed since windy wagon made it fateful journey to the mountains and was never heard of again. Jamilla looked at the market place from her balcony as it bustled with merchants setting up their shop after Morning Prayer. She had just relived the horrific night and had stared at the stars till the sun pushed them away. Time was generous to her as she was now beautiful like her mother and had the same quirky smile her father did. She was loved and cared by her husband and his family and had watched the town rebuild itself from the ravages of the past. The present day dawn bright and her future promised happiness and prosperity as was expected of the Bayat family.

But for Jamilla that was not enough. After her duties were done, she took herself to her family home where her brother Omar lived. Not a day passed when she had not seen her brother and spoken to him. After all, he was the reason she was still alive. for twenty years he was her mother and her father and with hard work, determination and brilliance he had managed to open a shop with his friend's father and had not only turned it around and made it hugely popular but had extended his business till the silk road. He was considered as his father's true heir, the uncrowned prince of Kalat. He had bought back their ancestral house, brought up the twins and had got his sister married to a prosperous merchant. There were people vying to get their daughters married to him, but he had no interest. He considered himself an old man now. He visted Nishapur every month and apart from business, he also spent large amounts trying to find the whereabouts of the two thugs who had slayed his family. But to no avail.

Together, brother and sister bowed their heads in remembrance of their parents and then continued their very long discussion of how to track down two people in another city. After a lengthy discussion and exchange of pleasantries and comfort, jamilla made her way back to her home. On the way, she saw something that made her heart stop.

Windy Wagon slow as ever, was passing the street and was entering the market. Unable to believe her eyes, she told her carriage driver to follow it and stop it. It was stopped for her. Slowly she made her way to it. The same Green paint, the same low windows and though it was worse for wear it was the same wagon she dreamt of every night. The crude star she had carved was still there by the widow. Jamilla ran her hand over it and then demanded that her brother and the police, a friend of her husband's be summoned.

There was no commotion. after two hours the driver of the wagon was in prison being interrogated by the police and Omar. Yes, the wagon belonged to his father Jahan. No, he was not a thief, just a trader from Nishapur. Yes, his father was still alive. No he didn’t know of any person named Rabin. He was eventually released from prison after the charges of theft were cleared in few days. his friends had visited Kalat and spoke for him. but the wagon and the wares were confiscated and he left Kalat a poorer man and swore never to return to the wretched palce. When he reached home a few days later, he found his friends and relatives grieving for the death of his father. A thief had apparently entered and stolen a few remaining family heirlooms and had slit his father's throat. The thief was never found.

Omar was still not happy. His feeling of revenge was insatiable. Jahan didnt betray his friend and his death didn’t give him any peace. Encouraged by the developments, he began hunting for Rabin.

Days turned to weeks and weeks to months, the citizens of Kalat began noticing a change in Omar. The lost boy look in him had left and had been replaced by a sinister piercing look as he hurried through his everday routine. They wondered why the dark change had come over him. And soon they began advising Jamilla to help her brother. Jamilla noticed the change too. Unlike Omar she had reacted different to the killing of Jahan. It didn’t bring her peace and she was wise enough to realize that blood would not. She pleaded with her brother to give up his hunt for the murderer.

Jamilla’s husband and his family had heard of a spiritual guru and they often went into the mountains to hear him talk. He discussed life with people imparted wisdom through poetry and song. The twins were his disciples too. They learnt music and philosophy under him. Jamilla joined them once and was immediately impressed by him and his teachings. She went on a weekly basis along with her family. Yher brothers had become musical maestros studying music In Nishapur. They too came for weekly lesson to the guru.

Omar had meanwhile plunged deeper to restlessness and despair. To soothe his heart, he had sought revenge and now he sought drink and bad company. He grew richer but more angry and unapproachable.
He had an illicit affair with a dancer in Nishapur and people in the villiage spoke angrily off him.

Jamilla in a desperate attempt to help her brother, requested the guru to visit his home with her. She explained how until recently she too was fuelled by revenge and how her brother was unable to come to terms with his past. The guru agreed but very reluctantly.

When they went to Omar’s house they were greeted by his servants who claimed he was still in his chamber with the dancer. Angrily, Jamilla stormed upstairs to find Omar dead in his bed. He was bleeding. His throat had been slit. The dancer had vanished. Kalat gossiped and mourned the loss of the enterprising merchant and heir to a huge fortune. The young twins now found themselves rich and alone once again. Time healed all wounds people said. Jamilla and the dancer, who was Jahan’s clever and scheming daughter knew otherwise. The guru knew too. He was the one Omar was searching for, who had killed three sleeping innocents long ago. He was prepared for retribution now. But as none came, he carried on with his life, being especially supportive to the twins and to Jamilla.

Kalat soon became prosperous as many merchants began to venture in the road Omar had made. Trade relations had become strong with the neighboring areas and the town was restored to its old glory. One day Jamilla would know the truth about the revered guru ad she would chose to either forgive or punish him. And it was a beautiful day when she made that choice.