Anwar was in his bedroom when the police broke into the house and arrested him. They told Anwar since he had been an AB negative, he was under arrest. Shocked but composing himself he tried to pursue the sergeant it was absurd to comprehend a person with a certain blood group. But the police official told him to keep silent and explain himself before the sheriff. What’s wrong with the AB negative blood group? He asked the sheriff later who shrugged his shoulders and told him with a grin, “You know people lynched three AB negs only yesterday. It is better for you to keep silent and feel privileged to be behind bars.”
“But I want to report to the court,” shouted Anwar.
“You are lucky enough to be alive and would be given a chance to appear before the magistrate.”
He was dragged to a cell after it and was not allowed to contact anyone.
As Anwar was sitting cross-legged on the bare cold floor of the cell, strange tiredness crept over him making his eyelids droop. It was a commotion that made him raise his head. Some persons in strange costumes entered the cell. They sat around him in an eerie fashion. They were chanting eerily in some exotic languages. One of them stood up and started dancing in a whimsy; another began to sing while the rest were applauding them in devotion, as an expression of respect and gratitude. After a while, they again sat around him and the person leading them talked to Anwar. He asked his name, address, hobbies, and even some personal details. After this, they advised Anwar to change his identity as it was dangerous for them. They told him if he was ready to change all these details in writing, they could recommend to free him right that moment and he could be back home without anybody knowing it. Though Anwar was shocked and paranoid he insisted to be taken to the magistrate in lieu of compromising his identity. They left the cell and though furious they were but were still reading something for him and praying for him to adopt their advised identity … next morning Anwar was produced before the magistrate.
The magistrate was a roly-poly old person with curious eyes.
“So you’re an AB neg?” he said in an authoritative tone.
Anwar mustered up the courage and spoke with a conviction, “I challenge the very concept of creating minorities from among the common human beings. What about people with blue eyes? Would you call them a minority? Would you call a yellow flower among the red flowers a minority flower? Why don’t we try to find a common ceiling to accommodate the people with varying blood groups if they’re different at all according to you?”
“Yes sir, but it made no difference a few weeks ago; we were not considered criminals only last week.” The magistrate spoke peacefully, “You know crime is a legal term and we interpret it according to the changing times and situations. You AB negs are a dangerous minority now.” Anwar mustered up the courage and spoke with a conviction, “I challenge the very concept of creating minorities from among the common human beings. What about people with blue eyes? Would you call them a minority? Would you call a yellow flower among the red flowers a minority flower? Why don’t we try to find a common ceiling to accommodate the people with varying blood groups if they’re different at all according to you?”
“Don’t be emotional, gentleman; it is a state fiat we decided to segregate you after a lot of discussions,” said the magistrate. “But we were the comrade in arms with the Big Baba in liberating this city. We were and are patriotic citizens of this metropolitan,” said Anwar.
Now the magistrate in an exacting manner said, “And it’s the reason you’re being allowed to leave this city safely. Or else you see how furious the people and some state functionaries are. You know the former mayor of the city has been arrested because he tried to favor AB negs. May be for his own interests who knows?” he smiled.
For a moment it seemed Anwar was really in an impression that he had been metamorphosed into a dangerous species but after a few minutes of silence Anwar said, “I’ll stay in prison here in my city. I’m sure our people are true lovers and one day they will shed the spell of hatred put on them and I’ll once more join their warm association.”
Now the magistrate was a bit confused, perhaps it was puzzling for him to listen to these words of Anwar.He ordered to take him back to the prison.
A prison that could become a freedom monument if people liked it to be so.
The writer is a freelancer