The Ramadan Diaries

Sameer Janahi.

Knock knock.

"Jalal sir, would you like to come down for dinner?"

"Arrange the table, Sameer. I will be down in a few minutes."

Footsteps going down the stairs. Jalal sighed, then closed the book. He hadn't gotten anywhere like he had hoped to. The diary was supposed to be a clamp, that opened a window shut for such a long time.

Such a long time that the poisonous fumes were now murdering him.

He runs a hand through his thinning hair as he walks down. Insomnia was finally getting the better of him; his eye sockets had become too large for his face.

Sameer sat down beside him, said Bismillah and took a small chunk of the lamb. Jalal stares at him for a long time.

"What's happened Jalal? Is the food not good?"

"I haven't tried it yet."

"Then why do you look at me so?"

"Tell me what you know about Talib Janahi."

Sameer looks up with a calm expression that took Jalal by surprise. The look of the hunter.
He smirked for some time, and then takes a sip from his glass of juice.

"I suppose you'll be wanting to leave then."

"Answer my question."

"He was the wretched nephew of my grandfather. The curse to this place. The reason behind it's downfall. He... he ruined the Janahi mansion."

"Do you know what happened to that girl?"

"She passed away soon after his death. I dont exactly know what happened, I was young back then." More lies. "But Talib was a person who belonged in the dark. Why do you want to know all this? Tell me, please, who are you?"

Jalal takes the ring out from the pocket, and a lone tear trickled down from his eye.

Jalal, please, don't give up on me. Blood. Pain. Agony. Loss. He'd known it all.

"I was a reputed professor at Harvard's. That's where I met her. Khadeeja." It hurt to say her name, after all this time. "After my marriage, I'd given up my job to pursue my one true interest; the occult world. I lost my wife in a car accident. My accident. This is my only way to put things right."