Beating all logic

Two Graves

Written by Abdul Haleem Brohi

Four miles out of Karachi, on the sea shore, there is a small isle; it is famous as “the isle of two graves”. There are just two graves on this little isle. These two graves are twenty paces apart. The weird part is this that there is nothing else on this isle. Leave alone men or animal, there is neither any kind of insect, nor any other form of life on this isle. This is unfortunate. After years of investigation it still remains a mystery and no one knows how these two graves got to be there; and if they did not get there than who made them there. And if they were made there, where did the makers disappear. This has remained a mystery as I have not yet opened up my mouth to tell the truth. Today, I disclose the mystery as today no one can stop me; my wife is gone to her relatives today.

Three or four years back, when I was still in my in the detective department, the murderer was running away after murdering someone and I was following him. Suddenly, the murderer slipped into a house and disappeared, leaving me in a confusion. But then, I also slipped into another house. The house in which the murderer went was his own and the house in which I went was someone else’s. I showed my badge and was given tea, “How long would you hide?” I thought in a low voice in my mind so that the murderer could not hear me. He did not hear. After hiding in his house for a week, when he came out, I followed him with a loaded revolver in my possession.

The murderer bought a newspaper from a stall; I bought a newspaper from another stall because if I had bought one from the same stall, the murderer would have understood that I was following him. I had not wasted my time in the department. The murderer started whistling lightly and went towards Shahi Bazar. Exactly twenty paces behind, I started following him whistling lightly. He bought or brought a pair of socks and some handkerchiefs from a shop. I was twenty paces behind and therefore am not sure whether he bought these or brought these. From Shahi Bazar, he moved through Qila and went on to the Station Road. I don’t understand why the department trains us to stay twenty paces behind. Because of this training I could not buy the socks or the handkerchiefs for myself. On the station, the murderer bought an Inter class ticket and sat in it. I did the same but sat twenty seats behind him, however, I found myself in the next coupe as the first one had only sixteen seats. Train started to move and my heart started to beat faster. This was the first time that I was following a murderer who had killed ten people. He was alone and so was I. I touched the revolver in my pocket and warm blood rushed through my whole body. Even the revolver in my pocket felt warm now.

Till we reached Karachi, the murderer kept sitting in his seat and I kept sitting in mine. If I had gotten down and the train had moved away, who would have captured the murderer - dead or alive? He had a twenty thousand rupees reward on his head. I perspired at the thought. 

The murderer got down at the Saddar Station and started walking on the pavement towards Kaimari. This was his mistake. If he had gotten down at the City Station, Kaimari would have been nearer.

{Let me share with you that when this murderer killed ten people, he telephoned our chief and laughed an evil loud laugh, saying, “ You and your department cannot do anything about me and I intend to murder eleven people.” That is when my chief called me and said, “Police and the detective department does not have a quicker and braver officer than you, what do you say?” I said, “Yes” and that was my mistake. Now I was missing my children. I won’t say I was missing my wife, as within our clan it is inappropriate to speak about ones wife.}

While walking, the murderer turned towards Jhuna Market. I stayed twenty paces behind him but turned in the same direction, hitting a wall, headlong. I rushed towards the murderer and caught up with him. This was his cleverness as he may have guessed that I was following him. He ate in a hotel, but I stayed outside as the hotel did not have twenty seats. I don’t know what he ate. Meanwhile, it turned pitch dark. In this pitch dark of night, where a hand cannot see a moustache, on a deserted road, I followed the footsteps of the murderer; exactly twenty paces behind him. 

Suddenly I thought of something and shivered from head to toe. What if the murderer was intentionally walking twenty paces ahead of me in this pitch dark night, in which a hand could not see a moustache? I started to sweat. The sweat ran down the nape of my neck. I took out a handkerchief and wiped the swept off my neck. I put my hand in my pocket and curled my fingers around the revolver. Allah above me and this revolver on the earth were my only two guardians. 

Now I was not worried at all. I kept walking. Suddenly everything went quiet. Very quiet! Where did the sound go? I panicked. Where did the murderer’s footsteps go? I got totally confused. I started shivering. In my confusion, I held the revolver and forced myself to look in the dark. Suddenly there was a spark, so I lied down flat on my stomach. This strategy of lying down with the spark is also taught by our department so that a bullet should not hit us on our mouth or on our body. A standing man is an easy target. Now I watched with concentration and saw that the murderer was standing and the spark was from a lighter that he used to light a cigarette. That is exactly why his footsteps could not be heard anymore and so I got up. If instead of holding the revolver and forcing my mind, I had forced the revolver and held my mind, this tale would have been told by the murderer instead of me. Allah is Kind and Merciful. I lighted a cigarette and inhaled deeply.  

At Netty Jetty, the murderer bought a small boat and rowed it towards the open sea. At first I just kept staring, but later, I also bought a small boat and started following him. My heart was beating very fast as it was really difficult to stay twenty paces behind, because to measure the paces in the water, I would have had to get down in the water, and I would have drowned. I strengthened my heart. At our department we are always ready to die, but at a distance of twenty paces only.

We entered wide open sea and the murderer’s boat started to bob up and down in it. When my boat came twenty paces behind his, it also started to bob up and down in the rough sea. I did not lose heart. In our department, special emphasize is given on not losing heart. Out of nowhere there appeared ground before us. The murderer tied his boat on the beach, lighted a cigarette and kept starring at me. I pretended not to notice him and getting off my boat at exactly twenty paces away from him, I turned my face the other way and started whistling. I did this because I did not want him to know that I was following him. This trick was also taught to us at our department. 

Slowly the murderer started approaching me. My back was toward him, but we detectives have sharp ears. I kept whistling and started walking away from the murderer. The murderer fastened his pace and so did I. Suddenly he started running, so I also did the same. How could he be allowed to reach me? Our chief had instructed us to stay twenty paces behind the culprit at all times. While running, for a moment I thought that as per rule, he should be in front and I should be following him. But this was not a time to argue with the murderer.

I kept running and made a complete round of the isle. Now I realized that the murderer had not an inch since he got off the boat. He was standing at the same spot where I had last seen him. My confusion that he was chasing me was my imagination. So I lit up another cigarette and turned my back towards him. I heard him move towards me. This was my illusory imagination. We have been trained about such illusory imaginations at the department, so that we don’t fall victim to it. 

Suddenly, the murderer stabbed an inch and a half wide knife in my back and kept pushing it into my back till it could enter no more. Then he took it out and stabbed me repeatedly. This was not an illusion or imagination. I shouted a loud cry and died immediately. This was the murderer’s eleventh murder.

The murderer dug a deep grave and buried me in it. He covered me with a big load of mud and made a proper grave mound out of it and said appropriate prayers for me. Afterwards, he sat on my grave and had had a cigarette.

This was a golden opportunity for me, and our department's chief had instructed us that never let a golden opportunity go to waste. I sneaked out of my grave, put the nozzle of my revolver on the back of his nape and fired six shots, one after the other. His last words were. “I would get even with you and your chief.” I dug another grave at exactly twenty paces away from my own grave, buried the murderer, entered my own grave and went back to an eternal sleep.

This is the mystery of the two graves that are at a distance of twenty paces from one another and are at the isle where no men or animal live; neither is there any kind of insect, nor any other form of life on this isle.

PS: This is a hilariously illogical story and a true reflection of Abdul Haleem Brohi's humourous side.