Chapter One

Beside The Grave

In one cold foggy winter day, a certain one became a follower of "Saint Hazrat Momin Shah (Rh)" in his mausoleum. The conductor of that mausoleum was a very great man whose fame went across villages nearby, whom everyone called Ostad. How old is he? No one knows. Not even the village headman.

Our fellow man, Shamsu, was very devoted to the Saint and Ostad. He used to come durbar every morning, listen to the greatness and magical deeds done by the Saint described by Ostad himself. Ostad saw him everyday and soon he became the apple of Ostad's eye. Ostad found none in this village so devoted as him.

One day Ostad told Shamsu that, he should go and travel this vast world. He has listened everything that Ostad knew. "But I don't have any carriage. How am I supposed to travel the world?" words of concern from Shamsu.

"Not to worry child. Take the Donkey from the stable. Go, and get new knowledge."

Taking the Donkey from the stable Shamsu began his epic journey which was hindered shortly after he crossed the second village. His donkey died. He had no other carriage, no money to buy one, nothing to eat, nowhere to go. But that did not make him worry at all. THE DONKEY IS DEAD. What should he do? How will he go in front of Ostad? He has killed Ostad's Donkey, the Donkey that came from the Saint's Mausoleum. He practically
killed it riding on it. He might not be forgiven!

A chilled agony filled his mind. Agony for the donkey. Shamsu buried the donkey beside the road. "I have killed it." He started to cry in grief and intense sorrow. He closed his eye.

Chapter Two

A Person Dies But An Idea Remains

He could not believe his eyes. What is he seeing? A lot of money, in front of him, laid indefinitely.

What actually happened, was that Shamsu was crying closing his eyes in front of the grave beside the road. People were walking past him and saw him cry. They, as being ordinary villagers, felt pity and left money for this poor man. Some of them were standing behind him as well.

So, when Shamsu opened his eyes he saw the property he has just own. He heard a sound in his stomach too. For the first time that day, he felt hunger. He cried in happiness, "Oh God! Those who helped this poor man, help them in their need."

Shamsu went to village market, ate and came back to Donkey's grave. He slept there.

The following morning, A herd of people consisting of, old and young came to him. A middle aged person sat right in front him. Looked straight in his eye. "I was in a great crisis. Last night all my worries turned into happiness. I gave you money and heard what you said in the evening. Thank you." He gave Shamsu some more money. "I assume, the grave that you have found here it's of a saint's. Is it true?"

A very hard question for Shamsu to answer. He once thought, he should tell the truth. "Actually..." he heard that sound again in his stomach. "it is. It is a saint's grave."

"What's his name?"

"Pir Maolana Hazrat Ganda Shah (Rh.)"

Chapter Three

Killing Flies

This fly was clever. But not as clever as him. He killed the fly in the second try. "Piece of cake."

"How long we will be killing flies, Ostad?"

"I don't know."

"Its the mausoleum in the next village, that has hampered our business."

"Two years. Two years ago that mausoleum has started. From, nowhere a grave of a saint appeared. And now we have nothing. I'm thinking I should visit that."

Chapter Four

A Revelation

Ostad couldn't believe his eyes. It's Shamsu. How on the earth he found this grave. He went straight to Shamsu and asked, "What's going on?"

"I think we should go inside. Ostad, please follow me." Shamsu told in a mild tone.

"I will not lie to you, Ostad."

"Tell me everything, child."

".... And the grave is that Donkey's."

Ostad smiled. "I knew something was wrong. You are brave child and extremely clever, just like me... And you should know one thing. The donkey's mother is in that grave."


Writer's Note : This is one of the first stories that I've written. I actually wrote it in my mobile phone which has 5000 characters limit. That's why the last two chapters are too short to call a chapter. Well, I heard a story when I was a child that a perpetrator was cheating with people by false graves. Then one of my relative implemented that, such people would make a donkey's grave a holy grave too and probably that donkey's whole family would share the same fate. That's when I thought of such story. As you can see my English is really bad. Pardon that please.