Asrar spotted three or four holes dug in the footpath. The dog suddenly waved its tail and shooed away the mouse that was nibbling at the trash stuck to its tail. The mouse ran into the nearest hole. At the same time, two mice, fighting with each other, came out of the second hole and used the dog as a bridge to enter the drain. The fly had flown after this commotion, but the lazy dog lay there unperturbed. Maybe this was his everyday life. While spending his life on the footpath, he had risen above avenging the small transgressions of the lowly mice. When Asrar’s eyes accustomed themselves to the brightness, he saw a few perfume shops nearby. Their signboards were written in Arabic calligraphy. One shop was named ‘Khalis Atariyat-e-Jameel-ul Aasam’. The shop was open. Small and beautiful glass bottles of varied shapes and sizes filled with attar adorned the shop.
‘Where are you lost?’ Mohammad Ali wondered, putting his hand on Asrar’s shoulder. ‘There is so much more to be seen.’
They would not have walked more than a few feet when the sight of the Minara mosque stopped them. Saleem uttered a few lines in its praise and told them how the area would be lit up during the month of Ramzan and would overflow with people. So much so that there would be no place to even put your foot down on the ground. Qasim playfully remarked, ‘So if there is no place to put your feet, then where do people put their feet?’ This made everyone laugh. Saleem stayed silent but later followed it up with a brief smile. Mohammad Ali bought three paans from the shop around the corner. The beauty of the inscriptions and engravings on the Minara mosque had filled Asrar with awe. He kept gaping at them for a long time. He was unaware that those minarets had been witness to the springs and the dark nights of this city. They had witnessed the elaborate gatherings and long processions, the chaos and the political battles. They had watched the discriminations of creed and religion.
They knew the uniformed policemen who had killed many barbarically in the ‘Umar Ali Usman Lungi Cut Bakery’ riots but were left unpunished by the court. These minarets had also seen Imam Mehjural Bukhari al Maaroof Hijrul Ghilman in the dark nights helping put RDX boxes on the silent roads. No one ever knew whose work it was but for the minarets. This matter remained the subject of many debates till the imam was murdered a few kilometres away from the mosque. Asrar was intrigued by the mosque. He was sure that the facades and minarets were home to a number of djinns.