The pigeons on the Minara Masjid were welcoming the morning sun. The sun’s rays had not yet spread completely. His eye hanging outside the dead body was witnessing the expanding cemetery of garbage. Suddenly, there was no sun in the sky. The sea around had also vanished and in its place was empty space. His eye wanted to see the space closely. It seemed like a never-ending abyss, which ended at the end of the earth. He was amazed to see a blue sea in the heart of the earth. The expanse of this underground sea was far bigger than any on the earth’s surface. On the shores of this sea, he saw many holes and burrows. In those lived a species of rat-like humans. The last of what his eye saw was these rat-like beings swallowing each other up. The one who swallowed the vomited blood after a while. Coincidentally, out of that blood, twelve more were born. Till where one could see there was blood and gore on the shore. This was how the rat-bodied human species was able to reproduce and increase its population. Before the black out and death of the eye, it told the last surviving cell of the heart, ‘One day this species will also eat up the wall behind which are Gog and Magog.’

A pigeon came and sat among the ones sitting on the dome of the Minara Masjid.

What had happened was that Mumba Devi had told a monster that a human-like organism would appear from below the ground and would communicate with humans in their own language. And from then onwards, suddenly, the sun would rise from the west. Then the humans would bid farewell to earth and go and live on some other planet. Just like what had happened 80 million years ago when humans had left a dying planet to come and live on earth. At that time, earth was a heaven. The monster memorized what Mumba Devi had just said. After a while it transformed into a pigeon, flew and settled on the dome of the Minara mosque.

Asrar raised his eyes to look at the mosque. The pigeons were playing. The sun had risen. There were no clouds in the sky. The sun shone brightly. His eyes were dazzled. The imagination that had kept him captive vanished from his mind. He turned towards Dongri.

He returned to Minara Masjid after half an hour.

In the lane of the mosque, a barber sat with his small case outside a closed shop. Usually, Asrar would shave his beard on his own every three or four days, but today he had something else on his mind. He went to the barber for a shave and a trim.

When he returned to the kholi, his face shone, and his hair was well trimmed. Mohammad Ali was drinking tea. It was the first time that Asrar had got ready so early in the morning and had also trimmed his hair. Mohammad Ali offered him a cup of tea and said, ‘You look good.’