You should pay your allegiance to the One, he had said. But deep down in these dark sewers, where rats commingled with more rats spurting everywhere, Omar was astonished about what he’d discovered, what he’d do?
Omar’s life was no less than a windstorm either. Lazy cufflinks and asocial fasteners, were still pretty tight around his arms and legs, but most of all, though he was the only person who had actually had the courage to consider it, most of all he heart was beating at a snail’s pace. That is after it had been pumping blood like a generator. And he felt like there’s was this rock on his chest that had been kept in place for a long long time. The problem wasn’t that it had been removed now. The problem was that it had left scars. Painful scars. One running right across his chest, diagonally. No there weren’t any sharp tools around, if you’re wondering, this was a rock-scar. A brazen one. Anyways, Something needed to be done. His original allegiance lay with his own clan, the O6645. These were people of the Household. Not the topmost. But still. A Syed was a a Syed, no matter what. He wouldn’t preferably marry outside his clan. He couldn’t be given charity too. Many myths and moots surrounded this 1400 year old institution of the Household. Leave everything aside. There was but one truth. You couldn’t go on your word, once you had been inducted. And that happened at birth. So, in a cynical way, your fate was sealed at birth. Unless of course you tried to take matters into your own hand. That you were brave enough to let go of things you no longer needed. A wallet and a rolex watch here. His pants too. And with only the torchlight guiding his way, he returned from the so called sewage-inspection-gone-awry. Not the point here. The One was waiting.
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