The first moment a sadist experiences pleasure in someone else’s pain.

I sit in front of the fire, my hands outstretched to embrace the warmth from it’s flames. My brother eats quietly, tearing off bits of the khameeri rotis with an unusually calm demeanour. 

“Why do you think he did it?” 

He takes his time finishing the meal before addressing my question casually.

“That’s just who he is. Arsonists are different, they think differently.”

He knows I want answers, and after a while he picks up the incomplete sentence again, wrapping a shawl around his shoulders. Fingering its frayed edges, he narrates to me what I wanted to hear. 

“Aslam was always ambitious, but when that ambition turned to greed, I never got to know. It was one day, a stormy-”

“Greed? Why do you say greed? Bhaiya wasn’t after getting things.”

“Greed for pleasure, Mohammed. He didn’t derive pleasure from all the good things in life. He derived it from the dark, from bad deeds. Pleasure is an emotion that we, as humans, enjoy. Aslam enjoyed setting fire to the buildings. The flames which engulfed people in terror filled him with the strange sort of happiness unknown to you and me. Let me tell you of the first mission that we were given by our leader. It was a stormy night, our chappals splashing in the muddy mirrors lining the road. We were to set alight the Gupta Halwai. I still remember the unpacked crates of mithai, some of which I snuggled beneath my prayer cap.”

“I loved those sweet orange balls.” 

Ignoring my ‘irksome’ intervention, Akbar picked up the tale again. 

“The foul smelling cans of petrol were cracked open and religiously emptied over the countertops and polished floors. Aslam worked faster than me, for I kept looking over my shoulder for any chance witnesses. He told me not to be afraid, that we were doing jihad to attain eternal salvation and satisfaction for what was actually a noble deed.  My trembling fingers struggled to light the match, when he snatched it from me and tossed it impatiently onto the waiting accelerant. I turned to run, but Aslam stood there, mesmerized by the destruction taking place before his eyes. It was at that unnatural moment that I saw the flames dancing in his eyes, and his smile widening each time Gupta Ji’s wife screamed for help. I realized at that moment that this was no way to gain eternal salvation. I did not know who Allah was, but he couldn’t condone these outright acts of terror.”

“That’s why you left, isn’t it?”

“Yes. I took my decision and he took his. The path to heaven cannot be walked by revelling in the pain of others.”