The Ouroboros and the Djinn | Salmah Ahmed

Farah yawned and cast a perfunctory gaze at the road. The headlights of their speeding Land Cruiser, illuminated the road ahead. Yellow street lights lit up small patches of an endless stretch of gravel like shallow pools of liquid amber. They were headed to Atharan Hazari, a small town in the Jhang District of Punjab in Pakistan. It was an estimated four hours’ drive from their home in Lahore, but they had been travelling for six hours due to traffic bottlenecks. A few barren trees interrupted the faint moonlit sky in the distance, their spindly branches waving at her in welcome or warning -she couldn’t tell. Struggling to stay awake, she stretched her eyelids wide, and stole a quick glance at her husband, Arham, at the wheel. 

She saw him yawn and remembered the saying about yawns being contagious. “You caught it from me!”

“Don’t distract me.”

Farah could sense tension radiating off him, his fingers clutched the wheel in a death-grip and his smooth forehead was knotted. 

It had been four years since their wedding, and they were childless. Different doctors and different tests confirmed the same fertility verdict, nothing was wrong with either of them. Her father in-law had headed the family textile business and had to step down after he was diagnosed with cancer. She had sometimes caught undertones in conversations of how she was unlucky for the family. Her failure to provide the expected good news to mitigate the perpetual sadness that prevailed in their house had affected her relationship with both her husband and her in-laws.

Last week, a devout family member had informed them about a holy man, or Pir, a certain Jamal Bhai,who granted wishes like a magic trick. He had a Djinn in his control, and he presented it in a snake form before his visitors. She had been sceptical, aware how the business of hope and fear was the biggest money machine for imposters posing as holy men. However, her husband was fascinated and convinced that they should visit him. Snakes had long been associated with fertility and rebirth. Could the ouroboros be more than a myth? Despite her mistrust in the whole affair, she hoped this leap of faith would work.

“It’s not safe to drive when you’re drowsy.” Farah tried again to open the doors of communication between them.

“Should I remind you why we are driving at night?”

The reprimand silenced her, and she reclined against the seat, feeling as useless as the teddy bear on the dashboard whose job was to bob its head hither-thither during the trip. The warmth of the balmy night and the boredom of silence finally pushed her into slumber.

Farah didn’t know when she dozed off when a sudden jerk and a loud screech dragged her back to consciousness. The car veered into a narrow path off the main road. A storm of dust engulfed her line of vision as they sped down the unpaved path. “It looks quite deserted here.” She strained to see any sign of civilization. There was just the mud path in front of them leading to an abyss of darkness. She tried to quell the rising apprehension within her while he was still glancing at the messages on his phone. 

He gave her a cursory glance and frowned. “Now don’t talk unnecessarily as you have a habit of doing once, we are there. Women are not supposed to be so forward in such small towns. And cover yourself properly with your shawl.”

Farah nodded but an uneasy premonition began pulsing inside her. Arham slowed the car as he saw the towering iron gate and red brick wall that bordered the Haveli. A massive stone and brick structure jutted out from behind it. It had arched windows which threw shadows across each other in the moonlight. The gate was opened by two armed watchmen. Farah wrapped her white shawl with care over her head and bosom as Arham steered in and parked. The cobbled driveway gave way to a cemented courtyard surrounded with ancient trees. The couple alighted from the car and were accompanied to the courtyard by one of the watchmen. “Pir Sahib is there.” The watchman made a vague gesture to the darkness and turned back towards the gate. 

  “Welcome.” A deep voice boomed from the shadows cast by a eucalyptus tree planted in the centre of the courtyard. A man in his mid-fifties stepped forward, towering over the couple at a height of six feet two inches. He was clad in a full-length black robe, with black and silver beads dangling down his neck. His long hair fell below his shoulders and his thick beard trailed down to his chest. Farah found his eyes most unsettling. They appeared to be two deep wells of murky water with no hint of light or life in them. “I was waiting for you. I wanted to receive you in person. Please come this way.”

Farah glanced back at the gate being bolted with a shrieking finality. Crickets created a discordant din around them as they walked in silence towards the entrance of the Haveli.  Jamal directed them inside the main section of the house. On the way, she heard hissing sounds from within the brick walls that dimmed and magnified as she passed. 

“Did you hear that?” Farah whispered, clutching Arham’s arm, and drawing close to him.

“What?” Arham pulled his arm free, embarrassed at her forwardness. “I cautioned you about this. Keep your distance.”

They entered an open plan living and dining area which was crammed with dated, mahogany and rosewood furniture. When they were seated, he requested Arham to introduce himself. When he asked about his caste, Arham replied that he was a Sheikh and his wife was Sayed, the direct descendant of Prophet Mohammad. The Pir folded his large body, placing one hand on his heart as a sign of reverence and allegiance. “My dear sister, I have deep respect for Sayeds. I am honoured to be your host.”

Farah gave a short, curt nod, unable to relax in the musty, claustrophobic ambience of the seating area. 

Arham deflected attention from her. “I have heard from my friend that you control Djinns, and they communicate with your guests.”

“Yes.”

“Does the Djinn appear as a snake and speak when asked questions?”

“I choose whatever form I want him to appear in. I want him to appear as a snake, and so he does. He is my servant and does whatever I ask him to do.”

“How did you get into this practice?”

Jamal’s face stretched into a condescending smile. “I had to work hard to acquire this position of mastery. I travelled as far as Bengal and Yemen to learn from spiritual gurus. I’ve meditated and fasted for years. I have been tested beyond your wildest imagination and have suffered the severest torture of body and soul. My will power had to be unbreakable to survive it all. Not everyone can do it.”

“Why did you choose to go through it?”

“To help unfortunate people in need.”

“Why did you choose the snake form for your Djinn?” Farah asked, unable to stop herself. 

Jamal’s eyes jumped to her in surprise, and Arham frowned at her. 

Recollecting himself, Jamal bared his betel leaf stained teeth in an ingratiating smile. “To instil fear, sister.”

“I thought your purpose was to help people?”

“Fear is linked to power, and power to respect and obedience. You cannot make people respect you unless they fear you a little bit.”

“But what if the people who visit you are so senseless with fear, they are unable to achieve their purpose. You have chosen a form that makes them uneasy to begin with, so they lose their ability to think and are intimidated by you.”

Jamal shook his head, “The visitors are aware that this is not a real snake and has no ability to bite or harm them. I make that very clear. It’s a Djinn under my control and does nothing if I don’t want it to.”

“Then why not choose a bird or a cat?”

“Farah!” Arham tried to hush her.

Jamal laughed and turned to Arham. “I think your Sayed wife is quite scared of snakes.”

Farah directed a cold glance at him. “I am not scared of your Djinn, your snake, or whatever tricks you use to intimidate illiterate people. Yes, I am from a Sayed family, and it is our belief that these beings cannot harm us. They fear us.”

Jamal smiled, not breaking eye contact. “Really sister, you are sure?”

“Yes.” Farah answered. Jamal nodded, still smiling.

The food was served in the dining area by Jamal’s wife. Farah noticed something odd about her but couldn’t quite understand what it was. Half her face was covered with a veil, but she could see big round lifeless eyes and a round doll-like face that had an almost plastic-like skin stretched over it. She looked beautiful and unnatural, like the reincarnation of Kundry, the serpent-woman. She avoided making eye contact with anyone and kept her face down while serving dinner, but did not join them for the meal. It was nearly midnight after dinner. Jamal directed them through a corridor into a sparsely furnished bedroom. There were two single beds in the room at opposite ends of each other, a cupboard, and a dressing table. They were on the ground floor and the windows to all the rooms opened to the courtyard. “Sister, your husband and I will wake you up in the morning for Fajar prayers.”

Farah flung around to face Jamal. “What do you mean by that? Surely, my husband will sleep here with me.”

Arham stared at Jamal. “We were under the impression that we would share a room?”

Jamal held up his hands. “That’s not possible, brother. This portion of the house is designated for the ladies of my family. My wife, daughter and sisters sleep in the rooms adjacent to each other. A strange man like yourself cannot sleep in these premises. I will escort you to the outdoor guest quarters for male visitors. I cannot allow your wife to sleep in the guest quarters as there are many strange men there and I don’t want to take responsibility for what might go wrong, you see.”

Farah grasped Arham’s hand in panic. “I refuse to sleep here alone. You must take me with you.”

“Don’t be afraid, sister. I understand your fear of sleeping alone in a strange place. I will fetch my daughter. She will come and sleep with you.” Jamal assured her and walked out of the room. Upon re-entering the room, he was directing a teenage girl who was so drowsy that upon entering she lay on the bed nearest to her and went to sleep.

Arham stepped closer to Farah. “Look, he does make sense. His house, his rules. There is nothing to worry about. It’s safe here, and you can call me if you need anything.”

“It’s settled then. Come, brother, let me show you to your room.”

The men exited the room, closing the door behind them. Farah looked around. The teenage girl was snoring and the only other bed in the room had a mattress, sheet, and a pillow, but no quilt. She was grateful it wasn’t winter. She sat down on the bed. A gnawing dread began to seep upwards from the pit of her stomach,devouring her heart with its vampiric fangs. She jumped at the sharp rap on the door. Praying it would be Arham she ran forward and swung the door open to find Jamal standing there. She stepped back in alarm. She had left her purse with her mobile on the bed. She could dash back to call him, but pride made her hold her ground.

“You look frightened already, sister. I just came to check if you’re alright?”

Farah pulled herself up to her full height. She was determined not to show him any sign of fear. “No, I am fine,” she lied. 

“Are you sure you aren’t feeling scared yet?” Jamal smiled, scanning her face with his intent gaze.

“I am sure. I want to rest now. You may leave.” Farah dismissed him with contempt.

“Very well. I wish you a very good sleep.” He bowed in mock servility and closed the door behind him.

Farah was gripped by an incomprehensible primal fear. She knew something terrible would happen to her, but she didn’t know what. She lay down on the bed and instinctively cocooned herself with her white shawl from her head to her toes, turning the edges of the shawl inwards, so no part of her body was left exposed as if it was a shield. She shut her eyes, sensing something evil was about to unfurl. Within minutes of her covering herself, she felt a snake-like creature wriggling on top of her body. She cursed Jamal in her heart. She had challenged him with her defiance, and he was now proving that he could scare her. 

At first, Farah’s mind and body froze with terror. But, she remembered a prayer from the Quran. She began reciting Surah Nas^[1], the verses from the Quran her mother had taught her to seek refuge in Allah from all kinds of evil created by mankind or Djinn. Covered with the shawl from head to toe, she kept reciting the words while the snake continued to wriggle all over her body. Exhausted, Farah lay numb under her shawl unable to move. Her mouth was dry, and her head was throbbing. With the Fajar Azan, the ordeal ceased. A knock sounded on the door, and it jolted her out of her terrorised stupor. She ran to the door and opened it to find Jamal and her husband standing there. Arham stepped forward and placed a hand on her shoulder. “Are you alright? You look pale.” Farah’s face was chalky white, and her eyes were blood-shot.

Jamal stepped forward. “So, I hope you didn’t get scared, my esteemed Sayed sister?”

Farah took a step forward and raised her chin. “No. There was nothing to be scared about.”

“After you say your Fajar prayers, breakfast will be served in the dining room and then we can convene for what you are really here for.” Jamal informed Arham.

As soon as Jamal left the room, Farah buried her face in her husband’s chest. “How could you leave me alone here?”

He swung his arm around her, his fingers stroking her hair. “I didn’t. I was sitting outside this room the whole night. Come, I’ll show you.” He took her to the open window. She hadn’t noticed it the night before. She looked out to see the eucalyptus in the centre of the courtyard with a concrete border circling it. “I was seated under that tree the whole night to keep watch. I thought there was something suspicious about this man, so I didn’t want to leave you alone. I was waiting to see if he entered your room or if I heard you call for help, I would come in. Did something happen?”

Farah kept staring at the open window. “Not what you think. Let’s get this over with and get out of here.”

………………..

Shortly after Fajar prayers, the couple sat on a woven mat on the floor in a small, dark room devoid of any embellishments. There was a cupboard built into the wall and a single window in the room. Jamal sat six feet away from the couple on the only chair present in the room. The room had no electric lighting. An oil lamp flickered near Jamal’s feet. 

Jamal asked Arham to check the iron locks on the cupboard and the window and make sure it was bolted tight. Arham got up and tugged on the locks.

“When my Djinn enters this room, all the locks will open by themselves. He will climb on each of you to get to know you so that he can answer your questions.”

Farah intervened, “No. I don’t want your snake to come near me.”

“As you wish,” Jamal acceded.

Jamal closed his eyes and started muttering something. A few moments later, a grating sound tore through the room. The locks snapped open. Farah was the first to see a black slithering mass on the mat next to Jamal.  Its shape wasn’t like a normal snake. It was lumpy and jelly-like. A noxious smell emanated from it. 

“Salam Baba ji.” Jamal addressed the snake. “These people have come to pay you a visit.” A high-pitched child-like voice issued from the snake. Farah couldn’t decipher it clearly, but it seemed like the snake had responded to him. “If you want you can give Baba ji a tip of your choice. Hold the money high above your head and he will take it from you.”

Arham rummaged through his wallet searching for a five thousand rupee note. While he was busy, Farah noticed a swift movement, like a whisp of smoke drifting towards her, and then a massive weight lay on her left shoulder. She turned her face away so she couldn’t see the creature, but from the corner of her eyes, she saw its tail lying in her lap. She tried her best to control the rising bile in her throat. Arham had finally fished out the money and held it above his head and the snake leapt forward to grab it like a flash of black lightning. It climbed over Arham, then slithered back down to its place near the Pir.

“Please ask Babaji whatever you want now.” Jamal addressed Arham now.

“My father has cancer. He is undergoing the best treatment money can buy. Will he recover?”

The snake spoke in the same child-like voice. “He will survive.”

“My wife and I are trying for children; will we conceive soon?” Arham asked.

Farah had averted her eyes away from the snake and the Pir. She didn’t want to be part of this sick game anymore. She wanted to walk out and was counting each laboured breath she took.

“You will beget children but not from the woman beside you.”

Arham grew silent for a few minutes, digesting this information.

Noticing the disappointment in Arham’s face, Jamal interrupted, “Any more questions?”

“No,” Arham shook his head. “Can you ask it…. him to pray for what we want?”

“Yes of course, he always prays for the hidden desires in your heart. He knows what they are as soon as he makes physical contact with you. Babaji, please pray that this couple has children, and the father recovers from his illness.”

The snake whispered something inaudible and fell silent.

“Babaji will take his leave now. If you want to give him a parting tip you can hold it over your head again as before.”

Arham held out another five thousand rupees note. The snake darted towards him in a blur of black smoke, snatched the note and disappeared from the room.

“Well, I hope you are satisfied with your visit?” Jamal rubbed his hands together. “Let’s break our fast now. My wife has prepared a hearty meal of parathas and cholay batoore.”

Farah turned towards Arham and shook her head.

Arham raised himself, helping Farah up. “Thank you for your hospitality but we should get going.”

“No problem.”

When they had driven out of the house and were a long way down the road, Arham whistled in relief. “What a weird night.”

Farah didn’t respond. Dawn had broken through the folds of the sky and brilliant hues of pink and gold stained the distant horizon. 

Arham glanced at Farah, “Are you feeling alright?”

“I’m fine. Are you going to get another wife on the Djinn’s advice?” Her tone had an ire to it that he didn’t miss.

“You really think I would do that? I guess we’ll have to adopt some children.”

“I think he fooled us.”

Arham turned to stare at her. “But you saw the Djinn yourself.”

Farah fell silent and turned her eyes towards the blazing stretch of gravel. In the stark day-light the surroundings didn’t look intimidating at all. 

A few months later, a TV channel aired a report on how an independent reporter tipped off by Farah, exposed the Pir for the fraud he was. The fear tactics, the theatrical lighting in the room, the black smoke, and the presence of one of his four wives hiding in a concealed trap door behind the seated visitors, all contributed to his ability to convince his visitors of the reality of his Djinn. Jamal’s wives helped him in the scam. 

Arham cursed aloud. “That scoundrel! You were so brave to expose him, and I was a fool to trust him. Everything he claimed his Djinn prophesied was false – about my father surviving cancer and you not conceiving.” Arham’s hand lay on Farah’s pregnant belly and jerked back as he felt a movement within. “This little footballer is quite restless today!”

Farah removed Arham’s hand. But isn’t that what ouroboros was, creation through destruction? Her baby’s existence via her father-in-law’s death? She had hoped for logical answers to all the questions bubbling in her mind, but the reporter had only managed to scrape the surface of the putrid swamp. She was left with many unravelled threads. Maybe, after the birth of her baby, she could track Jamal down herself and get to the bottom of it, this time without her husband to hamper her. Maybe the Pir could teach her his art. Maybe, she could wield as much power as him one day.

 ____________________

Footnotes:

1. Surah Nas: “Say, I seek refuge in the lord of mankind, the sovereign of mankind, the God of mankind, from the evil of the retreating whisperer, from among the jinn and mankind.”
   

   
   

Salmah Ahmed is an accountant living in London. She has studied a fiction writing course from Faber Academy and is working on her debut novel. Her work has been published in TMYS June 2022 Review, a print anthology by the literary magazine ‘Tell Me Your Story’ in collaboration with the Global South Colloquium, University of Victoria. Her poem ‘Tourist Eyes’ was published in the print version of The Aleph Review-Volume 7. Her short story ‘The Khwaja Sira’s curse’ was published in the online commonwealth magazine adda.