After finishing up with the Isha prayers in the night, Mustafa was on his way back to the dorm rooms. The mosque was starting to look deserted. The only ones that remained were the older ones, praying ever so slowly and peacefully. Soon, even they would return to their homes. Mustafa entered the room and the painful wounds of the day refreshed in his mind. He slumped into his bed and shoved his face in his palms. His dream of becoming a traveling preacher was at a verge of collapse. His mentor had plainly called him mentally unfit for the job. He knew, he would need another lifetime to make his mentor change his mind. He was seeing his energetic years diminishing in the mosque with the children. If his friend had not arrived at the moment when he did, Mustafa would have probably hurt himself. The thought of his childhood friend reminded him that he was expecting him at his shop. At the moment only one thing was giving him a feeling of some good and that was his friend so he picked his long coat, left the dorm room and headed to the market place.
The market didn't seem to be bothered by the nightfall. If anything, it only seemed to grow, both by people and atmosphere. Many of the shops depended on the late-night traffic of tourists on a shopping spree with bulging pockets. Most of the street vendors that are often seen setting up their stalls in the evening or at dusk, were also waiting for the night traffic of tourists. It was a cold night and Mustafa didn't regret bringing his long coat. All the customers in the market were wearing fur coats that made them look like eskimos. Everyone seemed to exhale smoke like a dragon. The fact that the holy month of Ramadan was also just a few months away, further multiplied the crowd. There were hordes of foreign customers at the shops selling praying rugs and at the garment shops. The customers were plundering the shops and the shopkeepers were pretending to let the goods go in loss. People were buying things in bulk and struggled to carry the load. The sweet shops and bakeries were also similarly crowded but they were accustomed to it. The Turkish delights and traditional sweets were known to attract similar crowds twelve months a year. Mustafa stepped out of the mosque and headed to Omar's shop that was situated at the far end of the market. The mosque was located in the middle of the linear expanse of the market. He walked by several couples laughing and strolling arm in arm, some hauling away bags filled with souvenirs and merchandise and some just simply living the moment clenching a cup of coffee. He felt a wholesome feeling watching such peace around him and almost laughed when he saw a child try to fight one of the infamous ice-cream vendors teasing him with his serving pole. He kept walking through the crowded shops and restaurants enjoying the happiness around him. He reached his friend's garment shop and found it packed as well. The shop was not the most spacious but Omar had a way of magically organizing as much goods as possible in the tiniest of places. The shop only had one or two of every article. If he needed more of anything, he would just order one of his employees who would fetch a piece or two from Omar's home which also worked as a warehouse. Mustafa peeked into the shop. His friend, with his two salesmen, was showing a bunch of customers his merchandise. The shop was filled with activity with the salesmen running around trying to appease their customers' demands. Omar was of course wearing the most ridiculous outfit Mustafa had ever seen. An extremely eye-catching light green, fading to bright blue, kurta with snake skin print with a matching bright green hat. Mustafa held back his laughter with much difficulty and almost gave himself a facepalm in embarrassment. Just as Omar was assisting a customer at the hangers, he caught a glimpse of Mustafa staring at him from the outside. He motioned him to come in and he did.
Omar welcomed him inside and called for a cup of tea. A salesman obliged and took off to order it. He asked Mustafa to wait for little while because his shop was nearing the closing time. He waited calmly while staring out of the window and sipping the cup of tea.
Nearly an hour later, the shop was getting quieter and quieter but so was the entire market. Omar waited for the gap of ten minutes between two customers. When that happened, he pulled down the blinds and hung the "Closed!" sign on the outside. The salesmen called it a day and left for their homes. There were only two of them left in the shop.
"So, you are interested in my crafts young man?", he asked Mustafa in a typical salesman-ish fashion. Mustafa looked at him puzzled.
"Not in a million years you chameleon!", Mustafa said with his hands up.
"Come on! Come on! Don't be shy", Omar said as he dragged him by his arm to the hangers. Omar pulled out a suit and let out a cliché "Ah! just perfect", while caressing the garment on the hanger.
He quickly pulled off his reptilian skin and put on the kurta on the hanger. As he turned to Mustafa he asked, "What do you think? I made it just for you", with a huge smile.
Mustafa stood up in shock. The Kurta was missing six inches across the chest. "Allah u Akbar!! What kind of atrocity is this?", he exclaimed. Omar tried very hard but couldn't hold back his laughter any longer.
"I should have recorded your reaction. It would have been something to extort you with", Omar said with roar of laughter. The kind of stunts Omar was known to pull, this outfit was not too far away from his definition of "art" so that was what made Mustafa even more worried. But now that he had disclosed that it was a joke, he was relieved.
"I am working on the chest piece separately. It is gonna have all sorts of embroideries on it before I patch it to the shirt", Omar explained once he was done laughing. Now that he was done with the prank, he showed him around the shop and requested reviews on the latest designs he had completed. Mustafa was awestruck to be honest because many of the outfits were actually wearable for a man with dignity and some were just phenomenal. It was just the outfits that Omar decided to wear himself were abominations. Mustafa inspected all the outfits and offered his advices on some of them which Omar noted down in his memo pad. Mustafa didn't share Omar's enthusiasm for the trade but he was happy to help his friend even if he himself wasn't so gifted in the field as his friend was, and Omar knew well enough to cherry-pick.
Omar brought a crate of chilled soft drinks. They gossiped for hours. From how one of their former colleagues tried to rob a bank he worked in and accidentally dropped his visiting card at the scene, to how their childhood friend had now become a government official in the finance department. Time passed swiftly. It was midnight. Mustafa heard his wrist watch beep for 12:00. He thanked Omar for his time and told him how he needed this meetup. He stood up and headed to the door. Omar began gathering the empty bottles and plates. Just as Mustafa was leaving, he heard a loud slapping sound with an accompanying "You moron!!". He turned to see Omar facing the ceiling with his palm to his head and his eyes closed.
"I almost forgot the actual reason why I invited you over!", Omar said with a chuckle. Mustafa was puzzled. This seemed like something serious and if it was, Omar would be the last person he would expect it from.
"There is a group of students from your organization that are juniors but have graduated. They wanted to meet you and talk to you about the African villages".
Mustafa was silent. He wanted to share every little secret with his best friend but this was out of the circle.
"Oh, come on! We have a ton load of mutual friends from all over. I was bound to know about it sooner or later. And since this issue is the reason my friend looks like a zombie, it concerns me too", Omar put in jokingly. Mustafa was still silent but Omar saw it in his eyes that he was interested. Mustafa had gradually walked away from the door. Omar expertly tossed a wooden stool toward him which landed a yard away from his foot and he motioned him to take a seat.
"Some of them are very resourceful. They have already planned their departure. All they need is a senior to lead them. They found out about your interest in the issue so they indirectly requested me to pull you in" Omar added.
"Is it safe or legal?", Mustafa asked hesitantly.
"Neither, as far as I have heard", Omar said while scribbling on piece of paper and handed it to Mustafa. He continued, "And as much as I know you, you wouldn't care about that either".