Escorted by three boys, he was brought limping in severe pain. Nazakat was a very cute boy with chiseled features and a feminine look; face blushing adolescent, bearing bigger and more dramatic eyes in which God had applied kohl with His own hands. Hair had just started sprouting on his upper lip, chin, and sideburns had appeared, which he plucked with tweezers instead of shaving. He even had a tattoo on his chin. The brightly colored silk Kaftan smelt of his intense, musky perfume. The silk trousers were soaked with blood, oozing from a long wound of a sharp-edged weapon on the right side of the scrotum, which was clearly self-inflicted.
Fully drunk, Amu Pehlwan, my friend since childhood, followed him to the hospital. He was the captain of our college wrestling team and joined the police on the same basis after his bachelor's degree. His wife died two years ago while giving birth to their third child, and he had recently remarried a young girl. Despite a successful married life, he was a deviant. I was very well aware of his queerness. As soon as Amu came, the boys started arguing and blaming him for this blunder. He punched and outpowered all of them. The boys ran away.
Amu placed Nazakat's head in his lap and spoke, ‘My Nazo! I have forbidden you. Why did you do that?’
Nazakat groaned softly and stirred. ‘All this is of no use to me. I want to cut it off.’
‘Nazoo! That's how I like you. Don't do that.’
The next day, Nazakat came to get the dressing. His mother chaperoning him started complaining, ‘Doctor, Amu has spoiled my son. He has taken one wife after another but still deludes my son. He was a good boy with nothing shy of annoying, but now this feminist slant has changed his behavior. I can't understand this eerie happening, as for days and nights he stays in Amu’s house. I have implored him, pleaded, and cajoled him, but all in vain. My son is destroying himself. Even I have sought the help of voodoo priests, enchantresses, and magicians. He has been conjured up, but magic, witchcraft, and sorcery nothing have been beneficial.’
One day I asked Amu, ‘My dear, your first wife was very graceful, the second one is too young and exquisite. Why are you ignoring her and adoring this ladyboy?’ He didn’t reply, so I continued, ‘Well, pubescents feel attraction in homosexuality but later on, they find interest in the opposite sex. You, too, should give up this laddish behavior of pederasty and focus on your wife and children. What do you get in it? What's so special about this bad habit?’
He answered immediately, ‘Doctor! You can only find great and beautiful souls in the masculine form. The standard of beauty is, in fact, masculine beauty.’
‘If you like masculine beauty so much, then why are you crumbling his virility? Just as the beauty of the soul illumines the features, so only the virility of the body nourishes the brain.’ I tried to convince him.
He replied, eyes glowing, ‘In fact, the amalgamation of masculinity and femininity is matchless. Greek goddesses’ statues are considered the most beautiful in the world because femininity is standing on the strong, stout, and robust structures.’
I tried to interrupt him, but he continued, ‘The Ancient Greek god Zeus, the god of the sky, chief Greek deity, and father of all gods and humans, also had similar characteristics. He had the characteristics of a man and a woman. From him, all creatures were born, but was an eternal virgin also, at the same time.
The god Uranus had intercourse with his same-sex partner. This distinguished relationship gave birth to Aphrodite, the goddess of beauty and love.
Dr. Sahib, this is a divine instinct. Socrates praised the act, Aristotle has advised people to divorce their wives and love men. In Ancient Greece pederasty, which you call laddish behavior, was the impetuous passion of elite males. Slaves could not do it.’
He had a pause and again spoke in a lighter tone, ‘My Nazo’s oriental chiseled features are hot like sunny days, and his turquoise bright eyes are cold like starlit night. I can sacrifice anything for his pleasure, even my life. You know, King Mubarak Shah Khilji said about the eromeno Khusrau that one fair hair of your head is better than the kingdom of India.’
‘Then, why do you have a second marriage?’
‘I was not interested, but my mother used to say, who would raise your children?
Still, I recognize and fulfill the desires of my new wife. Her rights are well protected in my house, but she is so young that she can’t satisfy me.’
I was stunned, ‘You will not acknowledge the reality.’
Weeks passed, then it turned out that the Nazakat had disappeared. Amu Pehlwan came to me asking about him. ‘One day he came to my house shouting to have bottom surgery. I forbade him. I didn't know where he had gone?’
I told him that a plastic surgeon used to do such an operation in Kasur, but now after performing Hajj, he has also repented. He may have gone there.
The very next day, I received a text message, ‘My Nazo fell into the hands of a perverted quack who could not control postoperative bleeding and Nazo died. My dear Doctor, goodbye.’
A few days later, the two dead bodies, tied together, were recovered from a canal.
After many days, Nazakat's mother came to me. When I mourned his son, the bereaved mom said, ‘Doctor, I told you that Amu Pehlwan has ruined my son. He was a good boy. When the affluent Amu seduced the parents of his beloved and married her, my son used to say, if he could not marry her, of what use was his manhood? Now he will invoke a muffled curse upon Amu, and will perish with him.’
I was shocked at how harsh reality can be. I remembered Amu was giving the example of Mubarak Shah Khilji but forgot that on the same night catamite Khusrau killed the king, captured the royal harem, murdered all the lawful heirs, and mounted the throne of Delhi.