First Grain of Sand — Page 121
THE TORTURE BEGINS 105 people who were the most strongly against me had been trans- ferred and had been replaced by those who were more sympa- thetic towards me. Upon my return, I resumed my usual habit of eating bread soaked in hot water and salt in fear that they would once again covertly serve me pork like before. When I returned from the hospital, I was no longer isolated in a room alone. I was placed in a cell with other prisoners and noticed that some new inmates had been brought into the prison who were deemed religious scholars. They were placed in the cells near and around my own, as well as one who was placed in the same cell as me. Despite being a prisoner, any time I would speak with this new scholar in my cell, a report of that conversation would be delivered to the Russian spy agency officers. There was a man in the prison who was my enemy and was always waiting to harm me day and night. He would watch me at night to see when I fell asleep, but whenever he harboured evil intentions, his attempts would fail. Many times he would manu- facture trivial excuses even with other prisoners so he could beat me. For example, on one occasion, somebody stole a nice quality shawl from me. I asked my cellmates to check their belongings in case the shawl had accidentally been mixed in with their things. In response, that man came over and struck me with his hands and kicked me with his boots. At times, two or three of them would join together to upset and beat me. One or two Muslim inmates found this distressing and asked them why they inflict such cru- elty on me, but to no avail. Then again an enthusiasm of opposing me arose, and they decided that once and for all they would shoot me with a gun or throw me out without the prison head officer's knowledge and