PEER E KAMIL EBOOK
Peer e Kamil Novel by Umera Ahmed Read Online or Download Peer e Kamil in High Quality and Watermark Free PDF. Peer e Kamil by Umera Ahmed - resourceone.info Identifier resourceone.info Identifier-arkark://t6sz1f80k. Read the life-transforming best-selling Urdu book "Peer e Kamil" by famous writer Umera Ahmed. App Features: Smooth User Interface (UX) -FullScreen.
|Language:||English, Spanish, Japanese|
|ePub File Size:||27.70 MB|
|PDF File Size:||20.50 MB|
|Distribution:||Free* [*Regsitration Required]|
resourceone.info - Buy Peer e Kamil book online at best prices in India on resourceone.info Read Peer e Kamil book reviews & author details and more at resourceone.info Urdu Novel Peer e Kamil by Umaira Ahmad has been reviewed. The main theme is based on religion. Download the famous novel for free in pdf. Sans Sakin Thi Novel By Nimra Ahmed Urdu Novels, Ebooks. Urdu Novels See more. Peer e Kamil Novel By Umera Ahmad Ebooks, Novels, Fiction, Romans.
View all 23 comments. Oct 08, Fariha Zaidi rated it it was amazing. This is the best Urdu novel i have ever read I will remain thankful to my sister for the rest of mu life who recommended this EPIC novel in the first place.
This story has changed my vision about life and religion big time and i am thankful to the writer for that. There is nothing to stop him from doing anything. He is in constant search of the extreme limit of pain,in this regard he observes painful ways t This is the best Urdu novel i have ever read He is in constant search of the extreme limit of pain,in this regard he observes painful ways to commit suicide never really getting any success in that.
This whole new concept of religion and spirituality combined with love is what gives this novel a whole new dimension of Explicity. Once you start reading it you doin't wanna leave it. I am very sad to think that there is no english translation to this novel because this one piece of masterpiece needs to be shown to the world Once again a great service to Urdu literature by Umaira Ahmed View all 6 comments.
Jan 24, Aqsa rated it it was amazing Shelves: I wouldn't really recommend it to anyone who isn't a Muslim. You won't understand it or get the feels like a Muslim would. In order to understand the book, you need to be able to understand the underlying beliefs of Islam and agree with them. I don't appreciate the fact that it spoke ill of Qadiani leaders so openly as speaking ill of others' religions only prompts them to speak ill of ours and I won't want that.
I think we should talk good of our Religion to make people believe in it. Islam doesnt need to insult other religions and it doesn't. Only knowing Idlam truly makes you forget the others. Now that I've said that, I'd say that as a Muslim I didn't feel offended by anything as such as I saw in some of the reviews. I loved it. I did felt like I had to push through the first chapter which was apparently a little confusing.
After that there is nothing to bore you. I hated Salar but as the story proceeds, he becomes your ideal hero just without the past. It was so emotional when his father found out about his school's name and when he found about Imama's letter. Usay laga vo such mai mar gya.
Just awesome. Then Amna and Saeda Amma was fun. It was so much fun to see how she forgot her home. I liked it when he came to talk to Amna but ended up saying: I so longed to know about Imama but that didn't came soon.
It came at chapter 9. I'm glad it had a good ending. It was expressed in a great way too. Just became my favourite book. View 2 comments. Feb 26, Sahrish Iftikhar rated it it was amazing Recommends it for: This book and story is very rich, very powerful and is definitely a very beautiful story that truly touched my heart and soul on so many levels, how and why, that I can't put in words. It made me think of so many things and honestly there were times when it shook me from inside.
It's filled with emotions, morals, lessons, bitter realities that we all fail to understand or even if we do we deny it and what not.
While I was reading it I just couldn't put it down and the moment I finished, I got lost in thoughts for hours. Everyone should read it once but with a clear mind and should try to understand the depth of the story. View all 3 comments. This is one fine piece of writing. Hats-off to Umera Ahmed for writing this. I simply love reading it in both languages.
I have read it many times and now I have added Hollow pusuits and The Perfect mentor pbuh on goodreads for those who can't read urdu. You can get these two novel in English as well.
Have a goodread ;. View 1 comment. Nov 20, Zunairaafzal added it. I love this book more than anything Oct 17, Saadia B. Hustle, Bustle and Hurdles rated it really liked it. As far as I can remember, this might be the first time I have read a full novel in Urdu and I must say it was really impressive. Before this I have read quite a few short stories but nothing more than that. The story revolves around two characters, Sallar and Imama.
Two extremely different personalities who come together in the end not by sheer coincidence but due to their destiny. Imama had certain dreams for which she was working really hard, however her life changes completely when she starts As far as I can remember, this might be the first time I have read a full novel in Urdu and I must say it was really impressive. Imama had certain dreams for which she was working really hard, however her life changes completely when she starts to take interest in the religion of Islam.
On the other hand, Sallar achieves everything from academics to career to his marriage. For him, Imama and her true believe in Islam is the source of it all, therefore according to him she is much more in control of her life than him. Though at times, the story is a bit too stretchy, hence I gave it four stars. Despite that, it was a powerful, captivating and an interesting narrative.
Oct 16, Fahad Nasir rated it it was amazing Shelves: Snapping back to reality used to be relatively easier, it's not anymore. Have never cried this hard for a book, for any character, and yet I wish I could Several times I slapped wat "What is next to ecstasy?
Several times I slapped water on my face to keep myself going. From one to page to another I flipped I wonder what magic had Miss Umera Ahmed laced within these words, that this story, this journey, kept me gripped like none other.
And nothingness do I feel right now. I have only the second time in my life felt this way And a part of me wishes I stay engrossed within this forever. It's a delectable system. It's not like no book has made me change the way I looked at the world before, but this I distantly felt what they felt, went through what they did and the torture seemed so sweet that I can't describe.
Like a little baby, I hugged this book at one point and cried with sobs evolving within my chest. I still wish I could cry harder. They possess the tendency to fiddle with us readers' emotions in the most reckless of manner and yet we fall in love with them. You'd marvel how one could come up with a plot so perfect and otherworldly. Next came bones and finally my flesh. Only once I had completed reading did I felt the full blow that figurative separation of my own body brought to me.
But I do know one thing though, that I do not part away from this book. This story dug deep within me - maybe much more than it did for others - and it augmented the size of my soul after crawling those depths.
The pieces have gone in, they are now settling soothingly. I can sense it. I can feel them working themselves in a beautiful way Mar 07, Anum rated it it was amazing Shelves: I adored this book!
Umaira Ahmad has succeeded in writing a book that holds much more substance than the average love story. Indeed, I don't believe that this story can be put in the romance category at all.
It seems to deal with life in general, rather than anything else. With such amazing charisma, Umaira Ahmad has written this profound novel on how a man with so many talents is surpassed by an average girl, when it comes to arriving on the path of righteousness. It is a book about how man is n I adored this book! It is a book about how man is nothing and no one to anyone else but himself, and that it is entirely up to him if he wants to save himself.
However, where He loves you and gives you so many chances to redeem yourself, you are your own worst enemy. You have only yourself to fight off and save your life. Immama, on the other hand, is the epitome of sacrifice. A girl who has given up her everything, in order to do what she feels is the right thing. Being a woman in a society that is not kind to that part of the female population, which chooses to think for themselves, she portrays how, when you believe in God's power and His mercy, you will never be disappointed.
Even more so, this novel seems to be about, how everything happens for the best. The characters are embedded in a world, where everything goes wrong just to turn out right for them. It reminds me so very much of 'surah Yousaf' in that regard. However, Jalal Ansar, remains a rather enigmatic character to me. He seems too good in the first half of the novel. So much so that, I was rather annoyed with his perfection. He seemed to be a good man, who was just caught up in circumstances, which were not in his power to handle.
However, in the second half, he turns out to be a right jerk. His transformation to the Omniscient reader seems to be a little too rushed. I think Umaira Ahmad should have worked out his personality a little more thoroughly. Overall, I believe that this book was a very well-written piece by the author.
Jun 11, Samia rated it it was amazing. This book I believe is my favorite of all time. It was way closer to reality, even more than I expected it to be. For a hopeless romantic like me, who is also hanging loose between religion and spiritualism - it was a perfect cure to hope endlessly.
And keep faith and believe in Allah endlessly. The last pages made me cry, so much so that I ended up offering prayers before reading the last page. Apr 26, Amna rated it did not like it Shelves: I can review this novel in one line: View all 4 comments. That's the beauty of it all. Set against the backdrops of Islamabad, America, Paris and Lahore; Peer-e-Kamil tells the story of a boy blinded by his own misgivings about life.
It is his journey into a man who is a complete opposite of the boy he was. At first, the subtly persuasive personality of Umaima irritates and amuses Salaar. But as the time goes on, he cannot understand his obsession with her. All he did was spend a few hours with Umaima, but those few hours and the words that were exchanged between them, haunts him. They come into his mind when he least expects them to, making him question his way of living life.
Ultimately, his thoughts force Salaar headfirst into depression and he finds nothing worth living for. He tries to pray, but fails miserably.
Being an extraordinary student, he has always been so far gone heady into the feeling of superiority that he is ever unable to decipher the meaning of 'Siratum Mustaqeem' or the right path. He doesn't know what the right path constitues and why it is for humans led astray. And of all the people he has ever met in life, he loathes the one who claims to be religious.
Those people are the worst because to him they just exaggerate everything about themselves to the hilt. Time goes on and Salaar finds himself changing. His transformation is complete during the late hours of the night when he is tied to a tree wearing only his Bermuda shorts. There he truly understands the next levels of ecstasy, the thing that always eluded him. And today one of Pakistans top actresses is going to perform just wait till you see her.
But you had taken me to see her dance, the first boy interrupted. Oh that was nothingjust a mujra at my brothers wedding. But here its a different story. But that actress lives in a very posh locality; why would she want to come here?
His tone was somewhat suspicious. Ask her yourself today, if you want. I dont ask such questions. The other boys laughed at this remark, but the first one looked at him askance.
They finally reached their destination at the end of the lane. From a shop near the entrance, they bought garlands of motia which they wound round their wrists, and also on the wrist of the boy who was objecting to being there.
Then they bought paan laced with tobacco and also offered one to himhe had probably never had paan before. They went up the stairs. He looked around critically and a look of satisfaction crossed his face when he saw that the place was not only clean but well decorated too. The floor was covered with white sheets and there were bolsters to recline on.
Curtains fluttered softly on the doors and windows. Some people had already arrived but the performance had not yet started. A woman with a lovely but fake smile swiftly made her way to them.
As she spoke to them, the first boy took in her appearance. She was middleaged, plastered with make-up and sported masses of rose and motia garlands in her hair. She was dressed in a screaming red chiffon sari and her blouse seemed to have been made not to cover but to reveal her body. She led the boys to a corner of the room and seated them. As soon as he sat down, the first boy immediately spat the paan out into a spittoon nearby. It was hard for him to talk with his mouth full of paan; besides he did not quite like its feel or flavor.
The other three boys were speaking in low tones. He looked around at the other men in the room who reclined against the cushions with wads of notes and bottles of alcohol in front of them.
Most of the older men were dressed in starched white clothes; it was the first time he had seen so many people dressed in white other than at Eid congregations. He himself was dressed casually in black jeans and a black T-shirt like his friends and the younger crowd.
A little later, another woman in garish clothes entered the hall and, seating herself in the centre, began to sing a ghazal. Musicians www. After a few songs, she collected the money that had been showered on her and left. Then the famous actress for whom they had all been waiting entered the hall and everyones eyes were riveted on her.
She twirled around and welcomed her admirers with a gracious nod. The musicians did not play this time and loud recordings of raucous songs filled the room. The performer began to dance. The silence that had preceded her performance was broken by applause as the men noisily appreciated her dancing and drinks went around. Some of the more intoxicated men got up and began to dance with her. The only one who sat still watching the performance was the first boy.
His face was impassive, but if one looked closely it was obvious that he was enjoying himself. When the actress came to the end of her dance about two hours later, most of the men in the hall had passed out. Going home was not a problem for them as they had not come with the intention of going back any time soonthey were there for the night. The four boys also spent the night there.
The next day, on their way back, one of the boys turned to the first one who was looking out of the car. So, how was the experience? All right, he replied casually. All right? Thats all? Honestly Annoyed, he broke off in midsentence. Its a good place to visit occasionally. What more can I say? But it did not have that something special touch about it.
My girlfriend is better than the woman I spent last night with, he retorted. Hashim Mubeens entire family was present at the dining table. They were chatting amiably as they ate. Imama was the subject of their conversation. Baba, have you noticed that Imama is becoming more serious with each passing day?
YesIve noticed this over the past few months, Hashim Mubeen replied, his eyes searching Imamas face. Imama stared at Waseem as she took a spoonful of rice. Imama, is there a problem? Baba, he talks nonsense and you fall into his trap. Im serious and busy because of my studiesafter all, not everyone is as useless as Waseem, she said with some annoyance. He was sitting next to her and she www. Baba, what will become of her when she qualifies as a doctor if this is what she is like in the early years of her studies, joked Waseem.
Itll be years before Miss Imama Hashim smiles Everyone smiled around the table: this type of sparring always went on between these two. It was seldom that Imama and Waseem did not argue with each other. But Waseem was also Imamas best friend probably their being the siblings closest in age lay at the heart of their friendship.
And just imagine that Imama but she did not let him finish this time. She turned around and landed a fist on his shoulder with all her might. It made no difference to him. What else can we have at home but a doctor with a healing touch? Youve just seen a demonstration and you can guess how doctors treat their patients these days.
One of the reasons for the rising death rate in our country Baba, please stop him! Imama conceded defeat as she implored Hashim Mubeen. He suppressed a smile as he turned to his son who dutifully kept quiet. He emptied the entire contents of the paper bag into the grinder and turned it on. The cook entered just then. Chote Saab, let me help you, he offered but was waved away. No, I can manage. But get me a glass of milk. He turned off the grinder. The cook got him the milk.
To half a glass of milk he added the contents of the grinder, stirred briskly, and gulped it down. What have you cooked today?
Peer E Kamil By Umera Ahmed Books.vouzi.com
A look of displeasure crossed his face. I wont have anything. Im going up to sleep; dont disturb me, he said harshly and left the kitchen. He looked unkempt with a stubble, and except for one or two buttons in place, his shirt front was open. Dragging his slippers on the floor, he went into his room and locked the door behind him. Then he walked over to the huge music system and began to play Boltons When a man loves a woman at full volume.
He flung himself face down on the bed, remote in hand, and feet swinging to the music. Except for him and his bed, everything in his room was in order.
There was not a speck of dust anywhere.
The audio-video cassettes were neatly www. Dont tell me! Imama, are you really engaged? Zainab appeared jolted by Javerias disclosure. Imama cast an accusing glance at Javeria who looked at her shamefacedly.
Dont look at herlook at me and tell me if its true that youre engaged, Zainab addressed Imama sharply. Yes, but it is not something extraordinary or amazing that you should react like this, Imama replied with composure. They were all sitting in the library and trying their best to talk in low tones.
But at least you should have told us. What was the big secret? This arranged on a shelf by the music system and on a shelf on the wall. Another shelf was filled with books and the computer table in the corner reflected his organized nature. Posters of Hollywood actresses and various bands adorned the walls, while the bathroom door and a few windowpanes were decorated with cut-outs of nudes from Playboy. Anyone entering the room for the first time would be startled because the nude pinups in the windows were life-size and lifelike and placed in special order.
Along with the audio system, there was a keyboard, and a guitar, a piccolo and an oboe hung on the walls. It was obvious that the occupant of the room had great interest in music. In front of the bed was a television cabinet on the shelves of which were several shields and trophies. In another corner of the room cricket bats and racquets were artfully slung across posters of sports stars.
It looked as if a tennis racquet was in Gabriela Sabatinis hand, while the other was held by Rodney Martin, and the squash racquet was in Jehangir Khans hand.
The double bed where he was lying on the crumpled silken sheets was a mess. A few pornographic magazines, mostly Playboy, lay scattered about with a paper-cutter and snippetsevidence that he had been cutting out pictures. Chewing gum wrappers, an empty coffee mug, a packet of Dunhills and a lighter, an ashtray and scattered ash littered the white silk sheet that had holes burnt through.
Somewhere there was a wristwatch and a tie, and a cell phone by the pillow where the young man lay face downward, perhaps half asleep as his hand mechanically but unsuccessfully searched the bed when the phone rang.
The beeping went unheard and the remote in his hand fell to the floor as his grip relaxed.
The Perfect Mentor [ English Translation of Peer e Kamil] By Umera Ahmed
Michael Boltons voice continued to fill the room with the lyrics of When a man loves a womanthe knocking on the door became persistent and louder, but he lay motionless on the bed. Theres no secret and neither is it so important. Besides, we have become friendly only recently and the engagement took place years ago, explained Imama.
What do you mean by years ago? I mean two or three years ago. But still you should have told us Zainab persisted. Imama smiled at her. When I get engaged again, Ill definitely tell youwhether or not I tell anyone else. Very funny. Zainab glared at her. At least show us a photograph of him Who is he?
Whats his name? What does he do? As usual, Rabias questions came pouring out in one breath.
Hes my first cousinhis names Asjad, The words came slowly and Imama paused thoughtfully. He has completed his MBA and runs his own business. What does he look like? Imama looked at her closely. Hes all right. Im asking you is he tall, dark, and handsome? Imama smiled at Zainab without a word. Javeria replied on her behalf. This is Imamas choice Yes, we should have knownafter all hes Imamas first cousin.
Now Imama, your next task is to show us his photograph, ordered Zainab. No, her first duty is to take us out for a treat, interjected Rabia. But now lets leave; I have to go to the hostel. Imama got up and they all left together. By the way, Javeria, why didnt you tell us about this earlier? Zainab asked her.
Listen, Imama did not want itthats why I never brought it up, said Javeria. Imama turned around and gave Javeria a warning look.
Why wouldnt Imama want it? If I had been engaged and that too to a boy of my choice, then I would have screamed it out from the rooftops, Zainab declared loudly. Imama chose to ignore her. With this level of intelligence, whatever he does may be extraordinary, but not unexpected. Salar had been at the International School for only a week when Sikandar Usman and his www. The school psychologist had informed them about Salars various IQ tests in which his performance and score had amazed his teachers and also the psychologist.
He was the only child in the school with such a high IQ and very soon he became the focus of everyones attention. During his meeting with Mr and Mrs Usman, the psychologist got another opportunity to dig out more information about Salars childhood. He had been studying Salars case with muc h interest which was personal rather than professionalit was the first time he had come across such an IQ level. Sikandar Usman remembered well that when Salar was just two years old, he was remarkably fluent in his speech, unlike other boys of his age, and very often he came up with things that left him and his wife wondering.
One day he was speaking to his brother on the phone while watching TV, and Salar was playing nearby. Sikandar watched him as he happily chatted away.
I am well. How are you? Sikandar thought he was play -acting. The next sentence made him sit up. Baba is right here, watching TV. No, he did not callI called you. Salar, who are you talking to?
Uncle Shahnawaz, he replied. Sikandar took the phone from him. He thought Salar may have dialed at random or else pressed the redial button. Salar has dialed the number, Im sorry, he apologized to his brother. How could he do that? Isnt he too young? His brother was surprised. He probably pressed the redial button accidentally. Sikandar switched off the phone and put it back in place. Salar, who was quietly listening to this conversation, went and picked up the phone againSikandar looked at him as he expertly dialed Shahnawazs number, just as an adult would.
He was shockedhe did not expect a two-year-old to do this, He reached out to disconnect the call. Salar, do you know Shahnawazs number? Yes, came the calm reply. What is it? Salar rattled it off. Sikandar stared at himhe did not think Salar knew how to count, let alone remember a string of digits. Who taught you this number?
You just dialed it. Salar looked at him. Do you know how to count? How far can you count? Till a hundred. Show me how. Like a machine, Salar counted from one to one hundred, in one breath. Sikandar could feel knots in his stomach. I am going to dial a number now, and when I disconnect you call the same number, he said.
Salar was enjoying this game. Sikandar dialed a number then switched off the phone. Salar immediately took the receiver and dialed the same number as confidently as his father had.
Peer-e-Kamil (P.B.U.H) by Umera Ahmed
Sikandars head wa s spinning. Salar could remember any numbers that he dialed, and could then dial them accurately. He had a photographic memory. Sikandar called his wife. I havent taught him numbers, she said. Yesterday I just said out the numbers one to hundred.
But I did get him some books a few days ago. Sikandar asked Salar to count to a hundredthis he did while his mother watched in amazement. Convinced that the child was far ahead in intelligence for his age, they enrolled him in school much earlier than they had his siblings. He excelled in school. This child needs your special attention, because compared to children of average intelligence, such children have a more sensitive and complicated nature.
If he has a good upbringing, he will be an asset to your familyindeed to the country. Sikandar Usman and his wife listened with pride to the psychologist who was a foreigner.
They began to give Salar preferential treatment at home: he became the most beloved and favorite child and they were very proud of his achievements. At school, he was promoted to the next class after just one term, and then again at the end of the term he was promoted yet again.
Sikandar was perturbedhe did not want Salar to be sitting for his O levels and A levels at the age of eight and ten. Considering the speed of his progress, this seemed quite likely. I would like you to let my son spend a full year in class before he is promoted to the next level.
I do not want him to race through his academic career in school at this abnormal speed. You can increase his subjects and activities, but let him progress normally towards promotion.
So, Salar was not moved up mid-term; his talents and energy were channeled into sports and other extra-curricular activities. Chess, tennis, golf and music interested him the most, and he took an active part in whatever happened in schoolif he did not participate in something it was only because he did not find it challenging enough. Imama asked Javeria who was studying. Javeria handed her a notebook which she began to leaf through it.
Javeria continued with her reading, but suddenly turned to Imama, as if she had remembered something. Why have you stopped taking notes during lectures?
Imama looked up. I would if I could understand them. You dont understand Prof. Imtinans lectures? Javeria was surprised. Hes such a good teacher. Did I say he wasnt? Its just that Imama trailed off, distracted. She turned back to the notebook.
Javeria looked at her closely. Arent you getting absent-minded lately? Are you disturbed about something? She put away her book; her tone was caring. Imama muttered. No You have dark circles under your eyes. Last nightI think it was three oclockwhen I woke up, you had not yet slept.
I was studying, Imama replied defensively. No, you werent. Your book was in front of you but your thoughts were somewhere else. What problem could there be? Then why have you become so quiet? Javeria ignored Imamas attempts to stall the conversation. Now, why should I be at a loss for words?
Imama tried to smile. Im as talkative as ever. Its not just me, but others too have noticed that you have been disturbed, Javeria said seriously. Its nothingjust the usual tension because of studies. I dont believe you. After all were all togetheryou cannot be any more tense than us. Javeria shook her head. Imama sighedshe was getting fed up with this.
Is everything all right at home? Yes, absolutely fine. Have you quarreled with Asjad? Why would I quarrel with him? Imama responded in the same tone. But there can still be differences and Imama cut her off in mid sentence. When I am telling you that theres no problem, why cant you believe me? In all these years, what have I not shared with you or what do you not know about me? Then why are you questioning me as if I were a criminal? Imama was losing her temper. Javeria was confused.
Of course, I believe you. I thought you were holding back because I might worry. Thats all. Javeria, somewhat contrite, got up and went back to her table and resumed reading her book. After some time she yawned and turned towards Imama. She was sitting up, her back to the wall and notebook in hand, but her eyes were fixed on the wall in front. He opened the boot and took out a sack and a length of rope and moved towards the bridge, dragging the sack behind him.
Some passersby saw him but they did not stop. Once on the bridge, he pulled off his shirt and flung it into the waterin a few moments the shirt was swept away by the flow. His tall, athletic frame, clad in dark blue jeans, was a handsome sight.
His eyes were inscrutable. He could have been anywhere between 19 to 29 years of age, but his height and appearance made him look much older.
Holding on to one end of the rope, he threw it over the bridge till it hit the water. Then he started tightly winding and knotting the rope in his hand around the mouth of the sack till he had used it all up.
Now, he pulled back the length of the rope, leaving aside about three feet; standing with his feet together, he firmly tied them with this length. Next, he made two loops with the remaining rope and hopped on to the railing of the bridge, and then passing his hands through the loops behind his back, he pulled the knots and tied up his hands too.
A smile of satisfaction hovered on his lips. Taking a deep breath, he threw himself backwards over the bridge. His head hit the water sharply and he was submerged to the waist, head down and hands tied behind his back, dangling from the rope tied to the weighted sack above. He held his breath and tried to keep his eyes open underwater, but the canal was murky and the silt stung his eyes. He felt as if his lungs would burst and when he breathed in, the water entered his body through his nose and mouth.
He began to flap about helplesslyhe tried but could not use his arms to raise himself up from the water. Gradually, his movements slowed. Some people who had seen him jump off the bridge, ran to the railing, shouting. The rope was still shaking. They did not know what to do there was no visible movement under the water; his legs appeared to be still. A crowd gathered, looking with fear at the lifeless body: the water swung him like a pendulum, back and forthback and forthback and forth.
Get ready? What for? Imama looked at her, surprised.
Were going shopping. Come with us. Rabia moved fast as she ironed her clothes. No, thanks. I dont want to go anywhere. Imama lay back on her pillow, her forearm shielding her eyes. What do you mean by I dont want to go anywhere? Whos asking you, anyway?
Im telling you, Rabia continued in the same tone. And Im telling you that I am not going, replied Imama without moving. Zainabs coming toothe whole group is going and well go to the movies when we are done shopping. Zainabs coming along? Yes, well pick her up on the way. Imama became thoughtful. You are getting duller by the day, Imama! Rabias tone was piqued. Youve stopped going out with us; what on earth is happening to you? I am just too tired today and want to sleep, Imama said, looking at Rabia.
After a while Javeria came in and she too tried to persuade Imama, but there was just one refrain from her: I am too tired, I want to sleep.
Unable to coax Imama outdoors, the girls grumbled as they left her behind. As they picked up Zainab on the way, Javeria realized that she had left her wallet behind in the hostel. Well have to go back for my wallet, said Javeria. When they got to the hostel they were shocked to find the room locked. Wheres Imama? Rabia was surprised. Dont knowwhere could she have gone, locking up the room like this?
Shed said she wanted to sleep, said Javeria. I dont know. What did your parents name you?
Go ask my parents. What do people call you? Boys or girls? They call me by many names. Could she be in someone elses room? For the next few minutes, they looked for Imama in their friends rooms, but there was no sign of her.
Could she have gone out? A sudden thought struck Rabia. Lets check with the warden, said Javeria, and they went to see him. Yes, Imama went out a while ago, the warden confirmed.Yeswhat is it? How are you? A little later, the lock clicked and Waseem turned the door knob to enter. Thats impossible. Without a pause, his brother landed a sharp blow on Moizs leg.
Somewhere there was a wristwatch and a tie, and a cell phone by the pillow where the young man lay face downward, perhaps half asleep as his hand mechanically but unsuccessfully searched the bed when the phone rang.
- OBJECT FIRST WITH JAVA EBOOK
- MOLECULAR BIOLOGY LODISH EBOOK
- PEAK ERECTILE STRENGTH DIET EBOOK
- THE SHADOW OF THE WIND EBOOK
- LIVRO VIDAS SECAS EBOOK
- PHP URDU TUTORIAL EBOOK
- NURSING DIAGNOSIS EBOOK
- ANNA AND THE KING OF SIAM EBOOK
- JOHN RAWLS A THEORY OF JUSTICE EBOOK
- BOOK WONT INTO IBOOKS
- THE ART OF H P LOVECRAFTS CTHULHU MYTHOS PDF
- ARNOLD ENCYCLOPEDIA OF BODYBUILDING PDF
- ENGINEERING MATHEMATICS EBOOK BS GREWAL