Unlikely Comforts

The next morning, Sophia's astonishment knew no bounds as she observed the Colonel fussing over the eccentric man more than usual.

Anwar and Arif had taken to having their breakfast in their rooms. The reason was the Colonel's obsession with vitamins. This obsession forced them to endure a breakfast of vegetables and soaked chickpeas. To avoid this, they had begun to sleep in and rise late. Lately, they had found a perfect excuse, as they were patrolling with rifles until quite late at night.

Today, at the breakfast table, only Sophia, Imran, and the Colonel were present. Imran, probably, appeared even more "vitamin-infused" than the Colonel. While the Colonel was chewing soaked chickpeas, Imran took it a step further by peeling the chickpeas and separating the skins from the kernels. Sophia watched in amazement as the pile of skins grew larger, and Imran began to chew on them instead.

Sophia couldn't suppress her laughter. The Colonel, who hadn't noticed initially, was startled by her laughter and a faint smile spread across his lips.

Imran, oblivious, continued to look back and forth between them like a fool, still engrossed in his chickpea skins.

"Perhaps you're eating something wrong," Sophia said, trying to hold back her laughter.

"Huh?" Imran exclaimed, his eyes wide with surprise. "Eating wrong?"

Nervously, he started brushing his ears, as if he had been putting all the bites into them. Sophia's laughter intensified.

"I mean, you're eating the skins," she clarified.

"Oh, I see!" Imran nodded with a laugh. Then, with a serious tone, he said, "My health is deteriorating day by day, so I consume the part of the food that's rich in vitamins. These skins are full of vitamins! I eat only the skins! Potato skins, onion skins, wheat bran... and so on."

"You're a devil!" the Colonel said, laughing. "You're mocking me!"

Imran began to beat his own mouth, exclaiming, "Oh, goodness... what are you saying?" The Colonel continued to laugh.

Sophia was perplexed. If someone else had done this, the Colonel might have pulled out his rifle in exasperation. She glanced back and forth between Imran and the Colonel, who kept drawing Imran's attention to the good dishes repeatedly.

"Are those two donkeys still sleeping?" the Colonel suddenly asked Sophia.

"Yes," she replied.

"I'm fed up with them. I can't figure out what their future will be."

Sophia remained silent while the Colonel continued to mutter. After finishing breakfast, Imran went outside.

The sun was shining brightly over the hills. Imran, lost in thought, gazed at the distant hills. The lush hills of Sonagiri become quite populated during the summer. Affluent people, seeking refuge from the heat of the plains, often come here. Hotels fill up, and the small houses of the locals become envy-inducing retreats. Typically, the locals rent out their homes during the summer and live in small huts themselves, serving their tenants. This brings them a substantial income, allowing them to spend the winter in relative comfort with the earnings from the summer.

Colonel Zargham was a permanent resident here and was among the prominent people of the area. Sophia was his only daughter. Anwar and Arif were sent to spend their summers with him.

Imran took a long stretch and, removing his gaze from the front, began to look around. The sweet fragrance of mulberries was everywhere. Where Imran stood couldn't be called a backyard, but it was a garden. Peach, apricot, apple, and mulberry trees surrounded the building. Fallen mulberries had been rotting on the ground for who knows how long, and their sweet scent was overwhelming.

As Imran was about to turn back inside, he saw Sophia approaching. From her demeanor, it was clear she was coming to him. Imran stopped.

"Are you a private detective?" Sophia asked as soon as she reached him.

"Detective?" Imran repeated in a surprised tone. "No, there's no such thing as a private detective in our country."

"Then what are you?"

"I," Imran said seriously. "What am I... Mirza Ghalib wrote a couplet for me:

'Hairaan hoon dil ko ro'oon ke peetoon jigar ko main

Maqdoor ho to saath rakhoon nauhahgar ko main!'

I am actually a hired mourner! Wealthy people hire me to lament and beat their chests. And then, I give them the opportunity to be amazed at..." he paused, searching for the right word, "the spectacle."

Sophia glared at him from head to toe. The foolish expression on Imran's face intensified.

"Why do you think others are fools?" Sophia snapped.

"I don't recall ever thinking even an owl was a fool," Imran replied.

"You were supposed to leave today."

"Tsk tsk! I'm sorry! The Colonel has hired me for consolation services. My side business is providing comfort and reassurance."

Sophia remained silent for a moment, then said, "So, does this mean you understand all the issues?"

"I often provide comfort without understanding anything," Imran said in a melancholic tone. "Once, a man hired my services. I spent the entire night comforting him, but when morning came, I saw that his skull had two holes in it, and he could neither cry nor beat his chest."

"I don't understand," Sophia said.

"Later, bullets from a revolver were found in those holes. It was a miracle, madam, a miracle! Truly, this is an age of miracles! Just the other day, I read in the newspaper that in Iran, an elephant laid chicken eggs."

"You seem to be a sadist," Sophia said, making a face.

"Your bungalow is magnificent," Imran said, changing the subject.

"I'm asking, what can you do for Daddy?" Sophia said, getting frustrated.

"I can provide comfort..."

Sophia was about to say something when the Colonel's voice came from the veranda.