Denial

I met Roman during a walk in the park near my newly occupied house in Rawalpindi. Since it is a well maintained park it attracts a large number of people from around the dense localities. Visitors not only have the facility to jog and walk on well laid out paths, they are found sitting on the green grassy lawns to get some respite from hectic life going by all around the park. They look more like scared fugitives from the smoke puking fiends Pakistani urban life is infested with than people taking some time out to refresh themselves with exercise and long gaze at ornamental trees and exotic flowers. The park is sufficiently large to muffle the ominous sounds of truck horns and vainly appealing ambulance sirens. But not large enough to shun the distant roar completely, an incessant reminder of groaning life beyond.

Firm grip of handshake defied age writ large on his heavily wrinkled face. The bounce in his walk, never waning hilarious mood and ability to find humour in the gravest matters in the darkest of times made Roman a coveted walk companion in the park. Though he was 78, I had difficulty keeping pace with him in the beginning. But being much younger than him, I had no choice except to toughen up and avoid trailing behind him. Since I had never met Roman outside the park he seemed one of the essential attributes of the park. Whenever he missed his walk in the park, and he missed very rarely, I couldn't help wondering. His gaiety and vigour at such an advanced stage of life in a country where average age is about 50 first puzzled and then heartened me. Being a health freak I didn't let my envy prevent me from trying to find out the secret of his such a good health and high spirits.

He followed a strict regimen. He never smoked and was a teetotaller. These are plausible reasons to ensure a healthy life especially when genetic set up has nothing particularly against you. But joining the ranks of octogenarians with thumping chest calls for something more. I was inquisitive but didn't want to seem prying into his life. Moreover his candidness was quite reassuring. I knew I will not have to wait for long.

Whenever he found me entering into serious conversation he gave me a strange look, enough to make me shut up. I felt guilty of complicating his jealously guarded guileless world. If he had succeeded in parrying polluting influences for eight decades in the name of civilization, I had no chance of rocking his boat when he was almost home. He sometimes seemed to me a person plucked from the idyllic primitive world and planted here against his will where he refused to settle for branded perfumes in exchange for mystifying incense of a Hindu temple brimming with twirling damsels.

He always laughed as if he had no care in the world. Recalling of childhood pranks still tickled him to death and humorous streak in everything around him afforded a perpetual smile on his face. As his exultation was very catching it was a treat to be in his company. His disarming smile was irresistible and had won him many admirers. He continually exchanged greetings with persons we came across during our walk and waved to those who were away on parallel track. He always talked of having good time in life and had very few regrets. There was not a trace of malice in his nature. He was constantly humored by what he found good in people's nature, and he found plenty. That is why he could enter into a conversation with strangers especially women with astonishing ease.

He told me that he had always been like that. Instead of being weighed down by challenges life dared to pose he made fun of them. Most were left to fend for themselves never to bother him again. His wife had been mad at him at many occasions due to failing every time to wrench a response from him.

One day he was unusually in pensive mood. He told me that he felt very akin to women young and old. For the first time in about six weeks I sensed a serious note in what he was saying. I felt as if he was talking to himself. I didn't interrupt him to allow him the honour of being a thinking man even if it was for a while. We treat women abominably. Crimes we commit in the so called defence of women make them more vulnerable and less secure. 'Most women are one man away from their welfare'. Hapless things are not allowed to think for themselves, the worst thing which can happen to a rational being. Instead of raising them to the level of goddesses and worshipping them wholeheartedly we have reduced them to what they are. And they are not in good shape. But all is not lost yet. Even if the outer is beyond recognition, thanks to the moralistic fits of weak and insecure men, beautiful core is still unscathed and capable of blooming into full fledged magnificence.

The planet belongs to them. It should be returned to them and we should ask for forgiveness and permission to repent in peace for rest of the millennium and a half. Before Eden turns into unrecognisable mess women should take charge so that divine order can be restored. In short, we should stop being bulls in china shop.

In the mean time Roman intended to provide relief to all those coming in contact with him. He was confident that he rescued many gentle souls from committing social suicides and becoming outcasts. He was not only the confidant of many edgy woman fighting for recognition, he had also effectively warned some from venturing too far from family fold. By crying over his shoulders helped them clear their minds and distinguish between what can and what can't be.

His wife didn't want him to be taken for granted by young things (by young things she meant all those who were younger than her). It was waste of money (he spent on buying cakes and gifts) and time that was her time. She kept a watchful eye on him and shooed away solace seekers from compassionate attention of her husband for 50 years. She was not always successful. Now and then he managed to trump her grave personal concerns with his primal instincts. Result was disaster if she continued to be more curious than was good for her.

Six months before his wife's death due to natural causes, he was trying to humour a young girl who was highly distressed due to measly attention her husband was paying to her after only six months of marriage. They cruised around in Rawalpindi in his not half as old car in broad day light. When they stopped at crossroads due to red signal, they were joined by his wife's car driven by his daughter-in-law. His wife was aghast to find that she had lost the front seat of husband's car to a novice. Profanities hurled by her through thrust down window were not allowed to affect the fast music induced environment in the car as they were effectively kept 'glassed' out. When Roman reached home his wife had already deserted him yet one more time to lodge with her sister. It was not less than four days' parleys on telephone that ensured continuation of mutually enjoyed farce of which they themselves were the protagonists.

Next day I tried to puncture his annoying equanimity by raising the issue of fidelity. He told me that first of all it is not' the issue', it is one of those things which is taken good care of whenever it rears its head. Bawling, tear shedding and dinner in a quiet restaurant are allowed to run their course in that order. Following day it is business as usual. Their iron clad marriage is not adversely affected by his relationships with extended family of women. The reaction of his wife was more of an acknowledgement than protest of giving so much attention to no one but her likes. She has shown it in so many ways before which momentary outbursts will dwarf. Their half a century old marriage which had weathered all storms was proof enough. Secondly 'she gets mad not because I am unfaithful to her and in her heart of hearts she knows I am not. It is because she hates to see me being taken for a ride or coming to harm due to hastily invoked notion of honour. I tell her not to be so caring. It makes me conscience- stricken.'

Fidelity is not limiting. In a true relationship, fidelity provides ample space to the duo to perform uninhibitedly, associate with others without fear of envy and always come home for the dinner. Nothing is as harmful for the relationship as the feeling of being stuck up irrevocably. Relationship is best served by elastic and voluntary federation instead of suffocating embrace. He likened the good relationship with being in a good home but not having to remain home-bound.

It was very seldom that he missed his walk in the park. After some time when I found him foregoing his walk for three consecutive days I was sure there was something amiss. It was after about ten days that I saw him dragging his feet along the path. The gait was without its usual bounce. Had no difficulty catching up with him. On inquiring about his very long absence he sadly told me that his wife had passed away. 'My accomplice has deserted me.'

He looked forlorn. The fear of becoming lonely was apparent in his eyes. He remained reticent during our regular walks for many days. Whenever some acquaintance intercepted him to offer his condolences, he had to make an effort not to take it as an affront. So widely was he known for his amorous inclinations. To be sure of one's candour who offered condolences he would look at his face too closely to make him feel good. His thinly disguised impatience with the condoling person sometimes betrayed his situation when he looked annoyed with himself for not being sufficiently distressed.

After about two months he shed the pretence of mourning. He started laughing more and brooding less. He would quickly change the topic if someone tried to punish him with fond memory of his wife. He was himself again.

One day, soon after entering the park, I found commotion in one corner of the park. I could not help edging towards the place where about a dozen people had gathered. When I went sufficiently close to the group I found a person with blood covered face, being tended by two amateurs. They were bent on him and fumbling with a piece of cloth in an effort to stop the blood exuding out of his mouth and nose. Others were also eager to help but didn't know how. One brought a tumbler full of water and asked the injured person to drink. He took a drought but soon disgorged it. They were not having much success. The blood was still dripping and making redder his already reddened shirt. It took me sometime to figure out that it was no other than Roman. His eyes were closed and the person trying to stop the blood was finding it difficult to do so due to sagging of his head again and again. Then they asked him to lie on the bench. The piece of cloth was wrapped and knotted at the back of his head. There was some respite in blood oozing. Soon ambulance arrived and he was taken to the hospital.

I inquired about the matter from the persons about to resume their walks. I was told that the old man was attacked by two persons. One held him from behind and other made short work of his face. Before anybody could come to his help, the assailants disengaged and left the park at their leisure. Their muscular bodies and menacing looks induced present there have second thoughts before making a move.

I followed him to the hospital but had to wait for sometime there, before hospital staff let me meet him. He was lying in the bed after having undergone minor surgery, carried out to fix his fractured nose. His face was heavily bandaged covering almost his entire face except his large eyes which looked larger. They seemed sedated but still able to recognize. He lifted his right hand slightly to acknowledge my presence and then motioned me to supply him a pen and piece of paper. I complied. It was his grandson's telephone number.

When I went to the park next day it seemed strange without Roman. Despite the odd feeling of his absence I plodded on and completed my walk in the park. I had to get used to walking, not half as energized as in the company of Roman.

I paid him another visit after five days. Heavy bandage on the face had been replaced with smart scant bandage. He looked markedly improved, but in sombre mood. He was sitting on a chair beside his bed. I shook hands with him. His grip was not his usual firm but still firm. When he spoke I was disappointed to see that his two front teeth were missing. He spoke indistinctly. Consonants in his speech got mixed up but since there was no problem with the vowels I understood all he meant.

He had helped a girl institute a case in the court to get divorce from her ambitious husband. The girl's husband wanted her widow mother-in-law forgo her property rights in favour of his wife during her lifetime so that he could start a business by mortgaging the property. Lacking qualification, he had no future prospects and hated drudgery for mere sustenance. His violent outbursts made the girl flee and take refuge with her mother.

Roman not only helped procure the funds for hiring a lawyer, he drove her to court whenever there was hearing. Her husband was sore with him for providing her vital support against him but when he saw his wife's shoulders covered with Roman's coat to fight suddenly increased cold while entering the court premises he lost his cool. He was arrested within three days and put behind bars along with his accomplice.

After about three weeks Roman resumed his walks in the park. He was in as high spirits as before the incident, waving tot and cheering all and sundry. Shaking hands with all those who intercepted him to show their concern for his health. They were sufficiently reassured due to his doubly charming grin owing to two golden teeth.