Tales of The Jinn

Chapter 1 : THE TALE OF THE POSSESSED BOY

This tale comes from the mountains of Tajikistan.

 One fine Autumn I took a trip down to Tajikistan, I had been planning this for a while; it is a beautiful mountainous landlocked country; I had been as a child fascinated by the Pamir Mountains of Tajikistan; they are the third highest peaks in the world and a sight to behold. I stayed in a small settlement at one of my friend's relative's houses in the Alichur Village.

By the time I had come back from trekking, I heard the call to prayer from the nearby masjid; it was nearly dark ; I had come back to the family waiting for me at dinner, I thanked them profusely, there was a lot of chatter on the dinner mat, I noticed a young man, not older than me staring at his plate but refusing to eat, I was halfway through my plate and he hadn't even touched his morsel, he had a good lean figure, his hair was dark contrasting his pale complexion and his skin was as thin as ice sheets that covered the nearby lake at night when the temperatures would drop below -10 degrees, he was perhaps the most handsome boy over there.

My companion Amara noticed me staring at the mystery boy,

"His name is Qassim", Amara said in her thick accent, Amara was a medium heightened woman, she was in her late fifties, her skin was pale, I was surprised when I had first met her, turns out she had done her graduation from Manchester, she was the part of the local authority responsible for the village and its local's needs.

Next to him, I noticed a woman with beautiful black hair, her olive face was partly hidden by a patterned shawl, it had patterned flowers in threads of blue and gold contrasting with its tea pink fabric, it was the cashmere shawl that also covered part of her hair, she noticed me staring as I averted my gaze, upon hearing the locals talk, I learned her name was Bilquis, she was a widow living with her son Qassim on the edge of the village.

They didn't talk much but the locals however were getting Bilquis and Qassim to get involved in the conversation, Bilquis would say a word or few and would fall silent, Qassim, however, hadn't uttered a single sound. The plate that had been untouched in front of him now had been clean as if it had no food in it, I was surprised as I could swear on the Qur'an that it had food in it and he hadn't even touched a morsel, he had been staring at it the entire time. I caught Qassim's eye, and a chill ran down my spine, his eyes were the blackest shade that I had seen, like hollow tunnels devoid of any emotion, he smiled at me kindly and the chill vanished, the wind grew cold and the call to the night prayer started, all the locals headed to the masjid. The winds kept getting harsher and the temperature dropping every second, I was shivering from the cold, the mystery boy offered me his woolen jumper, I was reluctant to take it but the cold was unbearable, as I reached out for the jumper, I noticed he had a very peculiar shape of hands, they were odd, long and bony with a bluish tinge to his pale skin, I muttered thanks as I wore the burgundy jumper he had handed out to me, I looked up thinking whether to start small talk but he was long gone. I sipped on the tea given to me by Amara.

"Amara, what is the matter with Qasim", I asked her while sipping on the black liquid which soothed in the cold of this place.

"It is a rather peculiar event that had fallen Jamal's family, Jamal was Qassim's father, he passed away when Qasim was a baby, a tragedy for Bilquis, her screams still haunt my ears ", Amara replied, he eyes tearing. We headed to her office, where she narrated the misfortune that befell Qasim's parents.

Jamal was a traveling professor, he was a very handsome man, tall, broad, and intelligent with sharp features, I remember having a crush on him. One evening in September 1996, I remember the weather getting considerably cold as winter was going to approach in a few months, Jamal arrived back, but, he wasn't alone, he had a brought a female back with him. The elders had gathered in the sitting room, as we the girls, eavesdropped as we were curious. It turned out Jamal had fallen in love with Bilquis in Egypt, Bilquis's parents had passed away in a car accident and she moved in with her aunt who since then undertook all her matters.