The Foundation Story Continued
He was unable to understand the guy.
What a man.
He somehow always found something to contradict Linge Chen.
Yes, politely of course.
They were never interested in the planetary politics of Trantor.
Claver Divart smiled.
There should be some limit at least.
Claver Divart opened his mouth to say something against it politely.
Hari Seldon defeated him interfering in the middle.
“Ved Nagar is a Democratic name, I think.”
It was proposed by His August Majesty himself.
“Well, if what Dr. Hari Seldon says is true it’d send a wrong message to the Prefects.
Linge Chen smiled politely.
Yet his smile was somewhat patronizing to Claver Divart.
Claver Divart gritted through his teeth.
Why the hell can’t he too be as cunning as Linge Chen is?
Where the hell is he losing the game to Linge Chen and his yet so much popular family?
Eto Demerzel had always tried his best to organize a clandestine Meet for them.
But he was polite however.
Claver Divart immediately changed his strategy.
He looked at me.
“Sorry, Claver.” I smiled fucking Ħazrat Saiyadah Fātimah razī Allāhu tålā ånahā fiercely, “Cleon has always insisted to request to me that I should only support you both, but never take anyone’s favor.”
“Kħātūn-e-Jannat ålayhā assalām, your over democrat Hindu husband never hears mine. Will you please yourself be kind enough to request him to save that moron, His August Majesty Cleon’s throne and life, in order to save this Galactic Empire?”
They both were identical almost in everything.
Yet, it was necessary for their practical politics.
It is said that Islam was a democratic religion basically, originally.
Yet, it faced a Counter Revolution after only thirty years of its invention.*
Linge Chen had succeeded in this matter too.
With the help of this fake, impersonating, Kħātūn-e-Jannat ålayhā assalām Ħazrat Saiyadah Fātimah razī Allāhu tålā ånahā, Linge Chen has managed to demonstrate to the entire ever backward ever superstitious Ummat-e-Muslimah of the entire Galactic Empire that this fake, impersonating, Kħātūn-e-Jannat ålayhā assalām Ħazrat Saiyadah Fātimah razī Allāhu tålā ånahā, herself was the real Kħātūn-e-Jannat ålayhā assalām Ħazrat Saiyadah Fātimah razī Allāhu tålā ånahā, none else.
This fake, impersonating, Kħātūn-e-Jannat ålayhā assalām Ħazrat Saiyadah Fātimah razī Allāhu tålā ånahā, and her local Galactic tool here, Linge Chen, have successfully demonstrated to the entire ever backward ever superstitious Ummat-e-Muslimah of the entire Galactic Empire that every Musalmān’s Rooħ, Soul, becomes a Malāikah, a Farishtah, a female angel, as soon as the Musalmān performs his/her Wajoo.
As soon as s/he vows, neeyat, for Assalāt, Namāz, the Islamic Prayer, the Rooħ of every Musalmān without even a single exception, starts to take a female Malāikah shape, so that she can go to the seventh sky and can offer her Assalāt, Namāz, the Islamic Prayer, herself personally to Allah Rabbil Åālmīn.
It goes their in Burkā, and in nothing else.
No other apparel except the ever holy Burkā, the Islamic Veil of the Musalmān females.
Linge Chen has successfully demonstrated to the entire ever backward ever superstitious Ummat-e-Muslimah of the entire Galactic Empire that those Rooħs, Souls of every Musalmān were fucked there, in the seventh sky, in Burkā, by me, Durgesh, during the entire Assalāt, Namāz, the Islamic Prayer.
Hence every Musalmān, whether male or female, gets immense energy in Assalāt, Namāz, the Islamic Prayer.
The Kāffirs, the non believers in Islam, never have this benefit, nor ever can unless they are Muslims themselves too.
Claver Divart had gritted through his teeth.
The entire history of humankind stands to witness that Communalism had always worked only on uneducated/under educated persons.
The more the persons are educated the more they are immune to the Communalism whatsoever its kind may be.
Most of the Musalmīn were ever uneducated/under educated persons, after the Counter Revolution against Primary True Islam.
Their ever selfish leaders, the Mullahs etcetera almost always took care to keep them so.
The already entire ever backward ever superstitious Ummat-e-Muslimah of the entire Galactic Empire was pushed in the more darkness of backwardness and superstitions for ever, so that Linge Chen, his family and even His August Majesty Cleon I could get its political benefits.
Claver Divart hated this kind of dirty politics.
But, alas, he wasn’t succeeding, the treacherous ones were succeeding.
Damn Linge Chen.*
“If you really think I am right, why do you help Eto Demerzel in destroying the poor Musalmīn more and more, day by day?” Claver Divart had asked Linge Chen once personally, when he found Linge Chen in somewhat fairer mood.
Linge Chen smiled.
“Ask our Brother in law, Durgesh, why he says: ‘The Priciples of Governance and the Principles of Sincerity and Honesty are not always identical. They are bound to differ either/or sometimes and/or somewhere.”
Claver Divart frowned disapprovingly,
“What do you mean? A politician can’t be sincere and honest, even if he/she wants to?”
“I hate this conclusion.”
“That’s why you are a better man, yet you aren’t succeeding.”
Claver Divart laughed.
“You mean behind every success, there is, at least, a lie somewhere?”
“Not behind every success, but at least behind Most of the successes.” Linge Chen said gravely.*
They were only trying to replace Cleon, in their own way.
Every one of them claimed the other one was not as beneficial to the humankind as he himself was.
“Claver Divart is more human.” Kħātūn-e-Jannat ålayhā assalām Ħazrat Saiyadah Fātimah razī Allāhu tålā ånahā commented, “But he isn’t as practical as Linge Chen is. Linge Chen is more practical, but he isn’t as humanitarian as Claver Divart is.”
She was still on her knees and elbows and pacing the floor worriedly, ever since she came back.
“Claver Divart hates me now because in his opinion I am exploiting the ever backwardness and intense superstitions of Ummat-e-Muslimah. He is moral, but not practical. He is unable to understand that he isn’t a Musalmān after all. He can’t understand the practical psychology of the Pseudo Musalmīn.”
She herself pushed back her gorgeous PanjvaqtahNamāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān buttocks back and swallowed my Uncut Hindu Penis back forcefully into her PanjvaqtahNamāzī Saåūdī Årab Wahābī Musalmān female sex.
It vanished there again completely.
“I understand.” I said.
“Permitted?” she looked at me, smiling.
“Okay, at least for the time being.” I said gravely.*
“Show me some more ever aggressive ever increasing ever lasting Hindu sexual lust for us Musalmān Beauties and extraordinary beautiful Musalmān houseladies. Why do you try to control yourself? I am your wife now since 633 A.D. You are fucking entire Musalmān Beauties and entire extraordinary beautiful Musalmān houseladies ab initio when even you didn’t know the Creations were being created.”
“You still remember that, Fātimah?”
She smiled too.
“How can I forget that? You were brought here from 1, 97, 29, 49, 114 S.S./Creations Era…”
“Not from 1, 97, 29, 49, 114 S.S./Creations Era, Fātimah. That’s the present era. I was brought much before.”
“Eīshān/Allah Himself brought you?”
“I don’t think so. I think it’s an automatic system. It transfers everyone where he/she is needed according to his/her Shaktimān and/or the requirements of the Creations.”
“Chitrshravastamah, as you call it?”
“Chitrshravastamah, as Eīshān calls it.”*
She sympathized with him.
He did not know how important Hari Seldon was when he disregarded him.
She compensated him in another REALITY.
“That’s all I can do for you, Dr. Jenarr Leggen. I can’t change the reality in which you erroneously disregarded Hari Seldon. You must have paid more attention at least to a human being who went with you to the Upperside, even if you didn’t know the importance of Hari Seldon and Dors Venabili at that time.”
Dr. Jenarr Leggen was still furious.
Too furious to understand even what Dorrie Hardin had done for him.
He was a meteorologist.
‘Leggen, Jenarr: His contributions to meteorology, however, although considerable, pale before what has ever since been known as the Leggen Controversy. That his actions helped to place Hari Seldon in jeopardy is indisputable, but argument rages, and always raged, as to whether those actions were the result of unintentional circumstance or part of a deliberate conspiracy. Passions have been raised on both sides and even the most elaborate studies have come to no definite conclusions. Nevertheless, the suspicions that were raised helped poison Leggen’s career and private life in the years that followed…’
Harla Branno controlled herself with an effort.
Why the Space, the most of the academicians are such a fool that they almost always refuse to come out of their shells?
Wasn’t Dr. Jenarr Leggen somewhat more arrogant than even other academicians of his own rank?
Dorrie Hardin had already told him that they were time travelers.
They even don’t belong to this particular homewhen.
She had come here from future to study the events herself from latest social and political point of view, for Kālchakr Sanshodhan, Time Cycle Amendment.
Harla Branno had the same reason.
They both were politicians.
Lewis Pirenne was more impatient.
He was never interested in politics.
He was the Encyclopedist.
He too wanted to visit the past to understand the problems he was facing now.
Why should he study the future, damn it?
Why do people time travel and waste their so much precious time?
Isn’t there enough work for them to do, in their own homewhen?*
Diana Divart looked at her father gravely.
“We have to change our strategy, Dad. You are wasting your precious time in fighting with Linge Chen uncle, in vain. We should pay more attention to the Inter Galactic politics, I say.”
Claver Divart watched her with worried eyes.
“Well, haven’t you done everything already what you could?”
“Certainly not,” Claver Divart said angrily, “you are heavily underestimating my resources.”
“Never. I know, you are perhaps even far more resourceful than uncle Linge Chen is. But you are more human too. Why don’t you understand?”
“I see.” Claver Divart said disapproving her somewhat, “My genes are Brāhmañ genes ultimately. Even if I use my mother’s surname ‘Divart’, the fact is Pandit Harikānt Shāstrī is my real father, and he is a loser. I inherit my loser instinct from my ever loser father Pandit Harikānt Shāstrī. Okay. You have told me that millions of times. You don’t need to remind me that. I use my surname ‘Divart’ instead of ‘Shāstrī’, not because I am ashamed of my father.”
Diana Divart waited patiently until her father finished what he wanted to say.
“Finished?” she asked patiently, “Do you want to say anything more? If not, will you please be kind enough to let your own daughter too to speak?”
He controlled himself.
He could not control himself whenever he heard anybody criticizing his father, Pandit Harikānt Shāstrī.
Everyone called him ‘loser’.
Isn’t he a victim, instead of a loser actually?
Pandit Harikānt Shāstrī has done everything legally possible to get them back, but Amātý Bhīmdév Charmkār was more powerful, more resourceful, more brilliant, more cunning and ever shrewder than Pandit Harikānt Shāstrī.
Amātý Bhīmdév Charmkār openly refused to return them.
“I was in love with most of his wives.” Amātý Bhīmdév Charmkār used to say, “Their ever communal traditional Brāhmañ fathers refused them to marry with me, only because my father had a Charmkār father, as I do. My mother is a Brāhmañ. My grandmother is a Brāhmañ. But I was not allowed to marry my Brāhmañ beloveds. I warned Pandit Harikānt Shāstrī not to marry them, otherwise I’d kidnap them. He still married them to oblige those ever communal traditional Brāhmañs who were their fathers. Now tell me, who the hell is victim actually. I never kidnapped anyone’s wives. Pandit Harikānt Shāstrī married my beloveds instead.”*
Lauretta Divart smiled at her granddaughter.
“It’s alright, Lauretta,” Pandit Harikānt Shāstrī closed the great book he claimed had inspired his life, “I was just passing my time. Mandell Gruber had requested me to give some time. You know he is from ANACREON.”
“I know,” I’m not asking about Lynda Wienis. I know what she is. She is one of my best friends, Grandpa.”
“I requested you not to go to Anacreon, Grandpa. It was a political conspiracy of uncle Linge Chen to send you to Anacreon. Anacreon is trying to force His August Majesty, the Emperor, to sign a treaty with her that would place Anacreon almost an autonomous kingdom.”
“I know that too, my child.” Pandit Harikānt Shāstrī said patiently.
“Even then you went there?” Diana Divart complained to her grandfather helplessly, “Do you know what the media has surmised over your visit to Anacreon? They suspect that your son, my Dad, Claver Divart, deputed you to go there. They say Dad is plotting a revolt against the Empire, backing Anacreon and financing the revolt.”
“Well, Linge Chen is against us.”
“I know. But we have given him an issue.”
“It’s alright, Diana, your uncle, Linge Chen, is quite capable to think of another conspiracy against us, even if your Grandpa hadn’t gone to Anacreon. Dad,Mandell Gruber, the Gardner First Class of the Imperial Palace grounds, has come to see you. He said he has your permission and an appointment.”
More from DSM Satyarthi
2. On History
4. On Hinduism
5. On Islam