{"id":5932,"date":"2021-11-15T01:40:53","date_gmt":"2021-11-14T23:40:53","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/themarkaz.org\/oldmarkaz\/?p=5932"},"modified":"2023-08-30T09:43:25","modified_gmt":"2023-08-30T07:43:25","slug":"fiction-the-settlement","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/themarkaz.org\/oldmarkaz\/fiction-the-settlement\/","title":{"rendered":"&#8220;The Settlement&#8221;\u2014a story by Tariq Mehmood"},"content":{"rendered":"<p>&nbsp;<\/p>\n<p>&nbsp;<\/p>\n<blockquote><p>It was claimed to be the tallest and oldest tree in the world, now partially burnt, with strange branches that sprouted in all directions, from what appeared to look like seven crafted platforms, each one rising out of the other. The leaves of the uppermost level seamed to melt into the sky.<\/p><\/blockquote>\n<p>&nbsp;<\/p>\n<h4>Tariq Mehmood<\/h4>\n<p>&nbsp;<\/p>\n<p>She was secure in the storeroom of the first settlement that had sprung up on top of Hill 21. The room had no windows and the door was locked from the outside.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cI have a few questions for you,\u201d I said to her, but again she gave the same answer, \u201cWhat animal are you?\u201d<\/p>\n<p>Every now and then she banged on the door and screamed. A guttural scream, which had changed over the past few hours, from one filled with fear to a beastly groan.<\/p>\n<p>Like everyone from the Settlement, I too was hated by the people of her village, which was outside the security parameter. These were squalid places, full of dark alleys with stubborn inhabitants who refused to move on with the times. In villages like these, it was always the same: old men stopped whatever they were doing and stared coldly at us when our patrols went past; young women, looked at us and spat on the ground, and you had to have your eyes in the back of your head out here, especially when schools finished. You never could be sure which of the vicious bastards would lob a rock at you.<\/p>\n<p>I wasn\u2019t much liked in the Settlement either. Not only had I come from the city to conduct the enquiry, but I was on the darker shade of skin color to be a proper one of these zealots, all of whom had travelled thousands of miles to live in ultramodern houses, inside a barbed wired enclosure.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cI should have shot her when she came screaming towards the check-post. It was a clear shot,\u201d Private K said. \u201cI don\u2019t know why I hesitated. That\u2019s all it took for them to catch up to her, drag her down, throw her in the van and bring her into the Settlement.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>He was on guard in front of the storeroom.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cSometimes it is very difficult,\u201d I reassured him. He was in his early 20s but looked much younger, especially with his short hair and round glasses. \u201cDid you see who set the tree alight?\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cI was detailed to protect them when they went to pray there, that\u2019s all,\u201d Private K ignored my question.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cWho set the tree on fire?\u201d I repeated.<\/p>\n<p>He looked away from me, shook his head and said, \u201cI just saw her standing in the lower branches first. There were other soldiers from my unit, but she spat at me again and again. Once she pointed up in the tree and said, \u2018Beloved, so long as there is breath in my body, no one will step in your place,\u2019 And then she spat at me again and I brought her down.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>I thought for a while, imagining the scene. The woman in the tree, a tree with which I was familiar. It had fist-sized frayed brown leaves, and its trunk was split into two enormous parts, which resembled a human figure leaning down on one knee, with the other leg going around it. \u00a0It was claimed to be the tallest and oldest tree in the world, now partially burnt, with strange branches that sprouted in all directions, from what appeared to look like seven crafted platforms, each one rising out of the other. The leaves of the uppermost level seemed to melt into the sky.<\/p>\n<p>My mobile vibrated and brought me back to the job at hand. I received some CCTV photographs. One showed the woman running towards the communal open-air swimming pool. Another showed frightened swimmers scrambling out. Another showed her being wrenched out of the water by two men. One showed her kicking one of the men.<\/p>\n<p>I went into the living room to continue with my investigation. The room had a carved wooden bear dangling from the ceiling.<\/p>\n<p>S., my next interviewee, was sitting at a table, her hands wrapped around a cup of tea, which was placed next to her Settlement-issue pistol. She had shoulder-length brown hair, and sharp blue eyes.<\/p>\n<p>As soon as I entered, she looked up at me and said, \u201cI want you to know how I deeply appreciate your investigation.\u201d Her voice was charged with emotion. \u201cI am eternally grateful for the fact that the tree survived.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>I nodded.<\/p>\n<p>She continued, \u201cI mean what has that tree not seen?\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cWho do you think actually set it on fire?\u201d I asked.<\/p>\n<p>She sighed, \u201cI have long argued that the only way to save the tree is to bring it into the protective jurisdiction of the Settlement. If this had been done, then there would be no need for your investigation and all this waste of time and resources.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>I wasn\u2019t making much progress with S. and said, \u201cThat will be all for today, but I may come back to you.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>She pushed the cup away from her and stood up crying, \u201cI am deeply disturbed by the way those men held her and did what they did to her inside the Settlement.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cIndeed,\u201d I concurred and then asked out of curiosity, \u201cSurely you saw her running around in the playground, why didn\u2019t you apprehend her?\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cI was off duty at the time and was far more concerned about my daughter, who was terrified,\u201d S. replied calmly. She spoke with a stiff upper lip. She had warm brown eyes and a broad smile. She continued, \u201cI had heard on the radio that a terrorist was running amok inside the Settlement. It was 3:15 pm. I was on my way back here when my car cut out. I was about three kilometers away from the edge of the village, it\u2019s a notorious part of the road, hidden between two hills, where stone throwers often target us, but thank god, the car started, and I managed to get here.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>S. left and I finally managed to get to B. and D., the main witnesses. They came into the room a few minutes later.<\/p>\n<p>B. was a thin man, with long hennaed hair tied into a bun at the back of his head.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cA bit of straight talking would help,\u201d I said to B. \u201cThis investigation has dragged on already.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>He looked at D., who scratched his tattooed neck and smirked.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cThis is not a laughing matter,\u201d I said. \u201cThe tree is protected&#8230;\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cI was about to shoot her when she fell into the pool,\u201d D. said running a finger through one of the curls of his hair dangling by the side of his face, \u201cbut as I am the pool keeper, it would have meant a lot of cleaning.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cIs it wrong to assume, that as you two were the only ones by the tree, one of you, or both of you set it on fire&#8230;\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201c<em>He<\/em> forgets he is not in the jungle anymore,\u201d B. laughed, tapping D. on the shoulder<\/p>\n<p>I didn\u2019t rise to the bait and kept quiet.<\/p>\n<p>D. added, \u201cThe tree is sitting on the temple of <em>our<\/em> ancestors.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cShe could have set fire to the tree and then climbed it, for all we know,\u201d B. said.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cAccording to the report, there was no hint of petrol on her clothing or\u2026\u201d I changed the line of enquiry and asked, \u201cWhy were two of her fingers broken?\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cThey can use them as weapons,\u201d D. said touching a fresh scar on his forehead.<\/p>\n<p>I dismissed them with a wave of my hand. They stood up and left.<\/p>\n<p>I finished writing my notes and was about to leave when S. came back. She was flustered.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cAs a woman, I am really disturbed by what happened here. She is a woman, after all,\u201d she said. \u201cI mean, when wolves get the taste for human flesh, they can never stop wanting it, can they?\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cNo, I suppose not,\u201d I replied and went to the storeroom to check on the prisoner.<\/p>\n<p>S. followed me.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cWho opened the door?\u201d I asked pointing to the storeroom. The door was ajar.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cI did,\u201d Private K replied.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cWhy?\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cShe would not stop asking?\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cWhat?\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201c\u2019What animal are you?\u2019\u201d he replied. His arms dangled by his side. His weapon was leaning against the wall. \u201cAnd I know why she asked me this and why she spat at me.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cStand to attention, Private!\u201d I ordered.<\/p>\n<p>He didn\u2019t and said, \u201cShe knows who I am, I am sure of it.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>\u201cStand to attention, Soldier!\u201d<\/p>\n<p>He raised his head, picked up his weapon and obeyed.<\/p>\n<p>\u201cWhere is she now?\u201d I asked.<\/p>\n<p>\u2018Still inside?\u201d he replied.<\/p>\n<p>I tuned my ear towards the storeroom. There was a rustle of leaves, and a moment later she stepped out. Matted earthy brown hair covered her face. Her open hands raised skywards.<\/p>\n<p>By the time I unclipped my pistol holder, S. had shot her in the stomach. The captive fell down a few feet from Private K., first on her left knee, then the right slid behind her, all the while muttering something unintelligible. She threw her head back, her hair flicked off her face. Her blazing eyes stared unblinkingly at me, and then she smiled.<\/p>\n<p>&nbsp;<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"<p>From Tariq Mehmood comes an allegorical story with the strange beauty and simplicity of a tale by Ghassan Kanafani or J.M. Coetzee.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":89,"featured_media":5933,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"_acf_changed":false,"site-sidebar-layout":"default","site-content-layout":"","ast-site-content-layout":"default","site-content-style":"default","site-sidebar-style":"default","ast-global-header-display":"","ast-banner-title-visibility":"","ast-main-header-display":"","ast-hfb-above-header-display":"","ast-hfb-below-header-display":"","ast-hfb-mobile-header-display":"","site-post-title":"","ast-breadcrumbs-content":"","ast-featured-img":"","footer-sml-layout":"","theme-transparent-header-meta":"","adv-header-id-meta":"","stick-header-meta":"","header-above-stick-meta":"","header-main-stick-meta":"","header-below-stick-meta":"","astra-migrate-meta-layouts":"default","ast-page-background-enabled":"default","ast-page-background-meta":{"desktop":{"background-color":"var(--ast-global-color-5)","background-image":"","background-repeat":"repeat","background-position":"center center","background-size":"auto","background-attachment":"scroll","background-type":"","background-media":"","overlay-type":"","overlay-color":"","overlay-opacity":"","overlay-gradient":""},"tablet":{"background-color":"","background-image":"","background-repeat":"repeat","background-position":"center center","background-size":"auto","background-attachment":"scroll","background-type":"","background-media":"","overlay-type":"","overlay-color":"","overlay-opacity":"","overlay-gradient":""},"mobile":{"background-color":"","background-image":"","background-repeat":"repeat","background-position":"center center","background-size":"auto","background-attachment":"scroll","background-type":"","background-media":"","overlay-type":"","overlay-color":"","overlay-opacity":"","overlay-gradient":""}},"ast-content-background-meta":{"desktop":{"background-color":"var(--ast-global-color-4)","background-image":"","background-repeat":"repeat","background-position":"center center","background-size":"auto","background-attachment":"scroll","background-type":"","background-media":"","overlay-type":"","overlay-color":"","overlay-opacity":"","overlay-gradient":""},"tablet":{"background-color":"var(--ast-global-color-4)","background-image":"","background-repeat":"repeat","background-position":"center center","background-size":"auto","background-attachment":"scroll","background-type":"","background-media":"","overlay-type":"","overlay-color":"","overlay-opacity":"","overlay-gradient":""},"mobile":{"background-color":"var(--ast-global-color-4)","background-image":"","background-repeat":"repeat","background-position":"center center","background-size":"auto","background-attachment":"scroll","background-type":"","background-media":"","overlay-type":"","overlay-color":"","overlay-opacity":"","overlay-gradient":""}},"footnotes":""},"categories":[16,24,64,50],"tags":[],"article-category":[],"article-type":[],"coauthors":[2158],"class_list":["post-5932","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","has-post-thumbnail","hentry","category-fiction","category-review","category-tmr-15-fire","category-tmr-issues"],"acf":[],"yoast_head":"<!-- This site is optimized with the Yoast SEO Premium plugin v25.5 (Yoast SEO v27.3) - https:\/\/yoast.com\/product\/yoast-seo-premium-wordpress\/ -->\n<title>&quot;The Settlement&quot;\u2014a story by Tariq Mehmood - The Markaz Review<\/title>\n<meta name=\"robots\" content=\"index, follow, max-snippet:-1, max-image-preview:large, max-video-preview:-1\" \/>\n<link rel=\"canonical\" href=\"https:\/\/themarkaz.org\/oldmarkaz\/fiction-the-settlement\/\" \/>\n<meta property=\"og:locale\" content=\"en_US\" \/>\n<meta property=\"og:type\" content=\"article\" \/>\n<meta property=\"og:title\" content=\"&quot;The Settlement&quot;\u2014a story by Tariq Mehmood\" \/>\n<meta property=\"og:description\" content=\"From Tariq Mehmood comes an allegorical story with the strange beauty and simplicity of a tale by Ghassan Kanafani or J.M. 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