Who is she, Part 43

Part 43

With the full confidence of meeting Anita the day after and dreams of spending the rest of my life with her, I fell asleep. The exhaustion and the mental stress of the day also played their part in my going into dreamland within minutes of hitting the bed. When I woke up, the rays of the sun were falling on my face, I looked out of the window and saw that it was bright light outside, it dawned upon me that I had overslept. I looked at my watch, it was nearly eight. No one had come to wake me up, which was surprising. Somebody or the other always brought my morning cup of tea but today they seemed to have forgotten me, how could they? I was about to shout in anger when the events of the previous day flooded my mind. I had almost thought that I was back in school and Khalid or some other domestic help would bring me tea. Reality can hurt at times and it did hurt me at that time. Whatever had happened yesterday could not be brushed aside as a rude dream which I had almost tried to do. In spite of being fully aware of Khalid’s condition, I expected him to serve me tea as usual. Selfishness thy name is Bittu, I thought!

I got up, and went downstairs, straight to the living room. Babuji was reading the morning newspaper and Amma was in the kitchen.

“Where is Khalid?” I asked.

“Namaskar, lath sahib, so you finally woke up, I was sure you wouldn’t get up before noon. But you made it by eight; I must congratulate you on this superb achievement. Well done, son. By the way, do you by any chance remember what happened yesterday?” This was Babuji at his sarcastic best. He never scolded me, he was never rude to me but what he said just now was worse than any tongue lashing I had ever received or would ever receive. It was evident, Babuji was annoyed with me and he had every reason to be.

“Looking for Khalid, are you? He didn’t get you your tea today, how irresponsible of him!”

“Babuji, please…….. I am sorry for getting up late and I have not forgotten anything. How can I forget the condition Khalid was in yesterday? Where is he? We must take him to a doctor”

“Oh, the doctor? Why, of course, how considerate of you to remind me of such an important thing, I had not given it any thought at all but Lord Bittu’s heart seems to be overflowing with kindness and love today, I am impressed, I really am”

“Forget it, will you? My son has just got up and you have started berating him for no fault of his. Poor, Bittuji, he is my darling boy. Don’t mind what your Babuji says, you know it is his habit. Khalid has been examined by the doctor. Babuji rang up, Dr. Wani and he hardly took any time in reaching here. Do you remember the good doctor? He has been our family physician for a long time. He said Khalid needs some rest, gave him some medicines and said he would be fine by tomorrow. Thank god, no bones were broken” Amma, as always, came to my rescue. She had been saving me from Babuji’s wrath right from the beginning, so much so, that all my relatives blamed her for having spoilt me.

I marveled at the strength of Babuji. He was old, he was frail, at least he had looked very frail last night, he had gone through a very tough day and yet he had got up early, had followed his normal routine and had not forgotten to take care of Khalid. As a matter of fact, all this should not have come as a surprise to me. I was quite familiar with the amazing strength of his character. Babuji had put me to shame once again, he had, in a very subtle manner, reminded me of my selfish and callous nature. While I had been dreaming of Anita, Babuji was busy performing his duties as the head of the family, duties that he had been performing for years and years.  What kind of a man was I? Was I really selfish? Had my heart become indifferent to everything and everybody except Anita? They say love changes a person for the better but in my case love seemed to have changed me for the worse! Bad, Bittu, very bad! There is still time. Don’t allow Babuji and Amma to go through more pain than they already have. You know very well that whatever Babuji is doing, he is doing it only for your happiness. Neither Amma nor Babuji are happy at your marrying Anita and that too in this manner. Bittu, if you really care for your grandparents, all you have to do is ring up Anita and tell her not to come, tell her you cannot marry her. It is not a very big sacrifice to make Bittu, not for the people who have made you what you are! Everyone has deserted them and now you are also about to do the same. Your marriage to Anita will break their hearts in more ways than one.

The conflict within me continued for some time and ultimately I convinced myself that I was not doing anything wrong. I had the right to marry the girl of my choice; it was my life after all. Lalaji and Bahuji had already accepted Anita as their daughter-in- law and, willingly or unwillingly, Babuji and Amma had also given their consent. Babuji had gone so far as to make arrangements for Anita’s stay in Srinagar and he was the one who had taken it upon himself to get me married to my love. When had I forced Babuji to do my bidding? When had I thrown any tantrums? Had I indulged in any emotional blackmail? I had not wanted to tell Babuji about Anita but he had forced the truth out of me. I had not asked him to talk to Suri Sahab, he had done it on his on his own. His threats to Suri Sahab were made at his own behest. If he had not rung up Chandigarh, there was no way of Anita being able to tell me that she had decided to become a rebel and come to Kashmir. So why should I feel guilty? In what way was I to blame? After winning the war with my conscience, I felt relieved and once again looked forward to the morrow with great expectations.

Breakfast was served by Amma. It was the usual kehva and Kashmiri roti

“Who bought the rotis?” I asked, realizing that Khalid was in no position to go to the market.

“Lath Sahab, do you think this house runs at your mercy? I don’t depend on anyone and you know that very well. I thought you would have the good sense to wake up early today and I waited till six thirty. When there was no sign of you, I decided to go out myself. Your lordship, we are perfectly capable of looking after ourselves, we don’t need any one, do you understand?” Babuji was certainly not in a good mood today and he had decided to lose no opportunity of taunting me. It would be prudent for me to keep out of his way as much as I could.

“Babuji, is there a curfew today also?” I asked.

“Not that I know of but you can never tell. So far things are peaceful but things change quickly out here, you know. People are still very agitated over the police firing in which many innocent citizens lost their lives, a couple of days back. The army seems to be bent upon showering bullets on unarmed protesters and they don’t seem to care about the damage they are causing to the social fabric of Kashmir. I am telling you, Bittu, if the Indian government continues with its present ways, they are bound to create terrorists where none exist and Kashmir will have a bloody future. I hope India comes to its senses before things go totally out of control” Babuji spoke very thoughtfully. Little did I know that these words of his would prove to be prophetic!

I told Amma that I was not interested in having anything non vegetarian that day and haakh and some dum aloo would do but she told me that Babuji had already ordered mutton from the meat seller’s shop and he would deliver it any time now.

“Babuji, can I go out today? I would like to meet some old friends of mine”

“Where do your friends stay?”

“A couple of my friends stay in Raj Bagh. I will go and meet them for a short while and be back before lunch time”

“You are not going anywhere today, Bittu. You will spend the whole day at home. Abdul will come and inform you about the plans for tomorrow. Do exactly as he asks you to. Trust him fully, do not for a moment doubt his intentions. He will do whatever is best for you. I am telling you all this because I know what lies you have been fed about Kashmiri Muslims. I know, that like other Hindus, you also think that they, the Muslims, are out to kill us. I want you to remove all such thoughts from your mind, if you haven’t done so already! Do I make myself clear? Now go to your room and read one of your favourite novels, the way you used to when you were in school” With these words, Babuji left the room and did not give me time to respond.

I was left all alone in the room. Amma had gone to her puja room where she used to spend at least an hour every day. This room was called the Thokur Kuth and it was only meant for worshipping and nothing else. Amma had great faith in her Thakur. I did not think it wise to disturb her so I went up to my room. I knew it would be very tough for me to concentrate on any kind of serious reading. I was very excited, very impatient. I wanted the day to pass fast. I wanted to be there at the airport and take Anita into my arms. I could not wait, I just could not wait.

The day passed at a snail’s pace for me and I hardly realized when darkness surrounded me. I had made one trip downstairs for lunch, another for tea and now I was getting ready to make my third trip, this time for dinner.

As I was having my dinner, my thoughts were elsewhere. Abdul sahib had not made an appearance so far. I was told that the morning flight from Delhi, reached Srinagar by ten which meant we would have to leave for the airport by nine. Had Abdul Sahab made all arrangements as he had promised he would? So far I had no idea whatsoever. We finished our dinner and still no signs of Abdul sahib. Babuji had asked me to trust him blindly and I had faith in Babuji’s judgment. But why was Abdul sahib missing? By now he must have made all the necessary arrangements then why was he not coming to inform us? I decided to go to his place and find out for myself. I was about to open the main gate, when it opened by itself and the man I had been waiting for was standing before me.

“Where are Babuji and Amma?” This was his first question. I told him they were in the living room.

“Let’s go quietly to the baithak, there are some important things I want to discuss with you” He said, took me by the arm and led me to the baithak.

“Sit down and listen to me” his tone sounded ominous.

Who is she, Part 42

Part 42

From the corner of my eyes I could see Sayeeda and Amma hugging each other, a congratulatory hug, no doubt. I wondered how happy Amma really was! She had always wanted me to marry a Kashmiri girl and her dreams were shattered. Moreover, she had wanted a grand Kashmiri wedding for me. That dream also had been ground to the dust. I knew, Amma was putting up a brave face and pretending to be overjoyed but inwardly she must have been feeling her whole world going upside down. Abdul Sahab had heard out Babuji and without asking any questions had agreed to  take care of everything. I was sure, there must have been many questions and doubts in his mind but it went to his credit that he did not express them. The delicacy of the situation was not lost upon him. He gave me a very knowing look, telling me that he could guess the truth.

After the assurances, given by Abdul sahib, Babuji looked a very relieved man and for the first time since the time we had seen Bhaisahab off, I could see a look of happy contentment on his face. Dinner was served and all of us ate  slowly, without really showing any interest in what we were eating or how good or bad the food was. This was highly unlike Kashmiris  but the situation was not a normal one. Not much was said and we soon got ready to wash our hands. Kashmiris, being rice eaters and non vegetarians hardly ever used spoons or forks. We always ate with our hands and it was customary to wash our hands with soap before and after meals.

“We must wake up Khalid now; he hasn’t had anything for a long time. He needs to eat, fill up a thali for him”, Babuji told Amma. As Amma went into the kitchen, Babuji himself got up and sat down beside Khalid.

“Khalid, it is me, your Babuji, get up and have dinner.” Babuji spoke very gently and even more gently shook him by the shoulder. Khalid let out a small cry of pain, opened his eyes and the moment he saw Babuji, he forgot all his pain and sat up in a sitting posture. He held Babuji by the hands and started weeping. Tears flowed down copiously down his blood stained face. Ever since he came back, he had groaned and he had moaned but he had not let his emotions get the better of him. The sight of Babuji worked as some kind of a catharsis.

“Oh, Babuji, you are back, they did not beat you, did they, no they must not have, had they touched a hair of your head, Allah kasam, I would have killed each one of them. I don’t mind their beating me up but I will not tolerate anyone hurting you”, Khalid was unable to hold back his tears. Babuji  put his arms around him and tried to console him with loving and comforting words. Meanwhile, Amma came and handed over the thali to Babuji.  Babuji held the thali in his hands and started feeding Khalid with his own hands. I was astounded. Babuji had never hand fed me and I doubt whether he had ever hand fed any of his children. And here he was, feeding Khalid, putting each morsel of rice into Khalid’s mouth with great care and affection. It was a very touching scene and I don’t think there was a single dry eye in the room. I could see Abdul sahib also wiping away a tear or two. With so much love in one’s heart, why did anyone need to take recourse to violence? I wished fervently that all of us would live together like this forever and ever.

 “Hey, Abdul saheb, you should go home now and remember what I told you. The whole responsibility is yours now and one thing more, please don’t  tell anyone about it till I ask you to do so, understand?”

“Don’t you worry Babuji, I will take care of everything. You relax and have a good night’s sleep”. Abdul said and then asked Sayeeda to come along. I saw them  off  till the gate. Before he headed towards his house, Abdul Sahab patted my cheeks.

“As naughty as ever, eh, Bittuji!’ ? Were his good night words.

He was right; I had been a very naughty child, very notorious in my neighborhood. Almost everyone knew me and my antics. I had been obduracy personified. Amma used to give in to each and every demand of mine, reasonable or unreasonable. None of my uncles or aunts dared to scold me; they knew Amma’s wrath would descend on them mercilessly. I was a spoilt brat who had got the best of everything in his life just because Amma and Babuji never denied me anything. Was I still behaving like that same old stubborn  child? Was my insistence upon marrying Anita and that too in this manner, a result of my age long obduracy? I had always had my way and in this case also It seemed that I would succeed in getting what I wanted.As a child I had never bothered about how much hurt I was causing others and I felt I had not changed at all. How could I fail to realize that my decision to marry Anita, my failure to stop her from coming to Srinagar was causing terrible pain to babuji and Amma and I was sure Bahuji and Lalaji would also be equally hurt and yet I seemed to have no qualms about whatever I had determined to do!

With these thoughts in my mind, I went inside, not before bolting the main gate from inside, a job which Khalid would perform every day. When I entered the room, Khalid had gone back to sleep, Babuji was sitting in his usual place and Amma was sitting by his side. It was obvious they had been talking about something but the moment I entered they stopped. I knew they had been talking about me.

“Bittuji, we will let Khalid sleep here tonight. It will be painful for him to climb the stairs in this condition. Go up to his room and get a blanket for him”, Babuji directed me. I ran up the stairs, grabbed a blanket from Khalid’s room and rushed downstairs. I put the blanket over Khalid, saw to it that he was comfortable and went over to sit by Amma’s side. It had been a long day, so many things had happened, so many events had taken place during the day which had left all of us mentally and physically exhausted. I was young so felt relatively fresh. Another reason for my lightheartedness was the way Babuji had made all the arrangements for Anita’s stay in Srinagar. It seemed all my wishes were being fulfilled so what was there to worry about. I realized I was being very selfish, perhaps I was selfish, maybe selfishness had always been a part of my nature but I did not care and why should I? I was getting everything on a platter.

‘It is very late now, time to go to sleep”,Babuji said and got up, he was certainly in some kind of pain which was clear from the way he stood up. He took the support of the wall behind him, something which he never used to do and did not get up with his usual alacrity. Wasn’t I the one who was responsible for all this? It was for my sake that Babuji had that angry exchange of words with Mr. Suri. It was because of my love for katlams that had made Khalid suffer and same love which had exposed babuji to the threats of the army. If all this had not been enough, I had put a heavy burden on everyone’s shoulders by my tacit silence over the coming of Anita. I could sense the mental agony which both Babuji and Amma were going through. In spite of all this, I was happy, happy that my Anita was going to be in Srinagar in a day’s time, happy that Babuji  and Amma would get me married to her and my happiness had totally blinded me to the suffering which my self- obsessed mulishness was causing the people who loved me the most. At that time, I found nothing wrong with my actions; I was doing it for the sake of love, wasn’t I? Hadn’t I heard that everything was fair in love and war? So in what way was I at fault? Does love really make a person as blind as I had become?

I went up the stairs along with Babuji and Amma and into their room. It was huge, with a big balcony on one side and two big windows in the other. On the left hand side of the room ,lay two big beds and on the right hand side a big carpet had been laid for people to sit. The room also had a store room and a dressing room attached to it. This was undoubtedly the best room in the house with the finest and one of the most artistic wood carved false ceilings one could ever come across. How wonderful it would be if Anita and I got this room as a wedding gift? Bittu, oh Bittu, how selfish can you get!

I recalled how in my school days Babuji and sometimes Amma would ask me to press their feet and legs before going to sleep.

“Babuji, would you like me to press your feet, I think you need it tonight?”I asked .This was perhaps the only unselfish gesture of the whole day, on my part. I was only too happy when babuji refused and asked me to go to my room. I wished them both good night and hurried up to my room as if Anita was waiting for me there. I jumped into bed without bothering to change, so excited and thrilled was I at the prospect of meeting Anita. Not a thought did I spare for poor Khalid, not a tear did I shed for Babuji’s and Amma’s plight and not a pang of remorse did I feel at the events of the day which had all taken place because of me. I don’t think I was ever as selfish as I was at that time. My mind was completely occupied by Anita’s pleasant appearance in Srinagar. Never for a moment did I doubt that she would  not come!

Who is she, Part 41

Part 41

I had never seen Babuji taking the support of anyone or anything. People of his age had started using walking sticks but Babuji was still strong and fit enough to have refused the use of any such crutch. He would still walk with a straight back. Every step that he took belied his age. But here was the strong old man finding it difficult to take the few steps up to the verandah. Abdul Sahib put his arm around Babuji and  propelled him forward .

“Hey,Abdul, what are you doing here at this time? Did these people call you? I am sure they must have thought I am not going to come back, I know how worried  Bittu’s mother must have been!” He removed Abdul’s arm and started walking by himself.  His voice betrayed no sign of any pain whatsoever.

“No, Abdul, I am fine, I don’t need any help. I felt a little giddy as soon as I entered and that is why took the support of the wall, now I am absolutely fine”  Babuji started walking confidently but one could make out the effort he was trying to make in order to look normal. He looked at me and patted me on the shoulder, without saying a word. The three of us walked into the living room. Amma jumped up with such alacrity that I had not seen in her for a long time. She came close to Babuji but did not touch him. She looked into his eyes, looked at his face and seemed to be satisfied with what she saw.

“What took you so long? Didn’t you know we would be worried? This is the first time after your retirement that you have come so late, why?” Amma’s words may have sounded angry but her tone was bereft of any such emotion. There was an element of terrific relief in her voice. Had we not been around, she would have certainly embraced him but such an act was not possible in front of others. I don’t remember  having seen them  in any kind of physical contact, hadn’t even seen them touching hands, let alone holding each other’s hands. A younger couple would not have been able to show this kind of a restraint.

 Babuji simply refused to take help from any one of us. He took off his shoes and then walked towards his favourite corner at the other end of the room. He was still wearing his jacket and trousers and therefore found it a bit difficult to sit on the floor. Normally, by this time he would have been in his night clothes but his schedule had been rudely upset.

So far I had not been able to muster enough courage to look at Babuji’s face, I was afraid of what I would see there. I knew even a slight scratch on his face would send me into a mad frenzy. As Abdul Sahab took his place beside Babuji, I finally managed to have a good look at Babuji. His face was unscathed and that came as a great relief, no wounds, no injuries, and no signs that he had been physically harmed. The army had spared him, as I had thought they would. I sat down in front of him. He looked tired and haggard. There was a strange look of despair in his eyes. I had seen anger in those eyes but never this kind of a dispirited look. Babuji was a man who would always exude confidence, a man who, even if his feelings were hurt, would never let his face show such emotions. Tonight, he looked different, he looked dejected, he looked sad and above all, he looked broken. They may not have had the courage to break his bones but they had surely succeeded in breaking his spirit. Suddenly, his eyes fell on the sleeping figure of Khalid. The very fact that he had not noticed Khalid so far spoke volumes about his mental state. The moment Babuji entered a room, any room, he would observe everything in just one glance but tonight he had failed to notice Khalid. This was not the Babuji we knew!

“Who is that, lying over there?”

“It is Khalid, Babuji, he was tired so we asked him to take some rest”. I didn’t see any point in burdening him with all the gory details.

“Bittu, do you think I am a fool? I know Khalid better than you do. He is not the one to lie down until all of us have had dinner and moreover he never sleeps in this room. Whenever he needs rest, he goes up to his own room, something is wrong, terribly wrong”. The moment he said these words he bounded up much the same way as Amma had when she had seen him enter the room. He walked up straight to where Khalid was lying and stared at him hard. I could see his facial muscles harden. After staring at Khalid for some time, he looked straight at me and Abdul Sahab. His eyes had suddenly turned red, was it anger or pain? He did not make any attempt to touch Khalid. He came back and resumed his place.

“You know what that beast of a major told me? He said his men had seen Khalid walking towards Kanya Kadal and had not stopped him as they were aware he was going to meet his family. The fool I was, I believed him. I had gone to look for Khalid and all this time I had been satisfied that he was safe, had I known the truth, by God, I would have killed that major with my bare hands, not that I am not going to do so now! Look what they have done to him, just see his face, it is battered beyond recognition. What was his fault? Tell me Bittu , what had he done, you tell me Abdul, what crime had Khalid committed?”  The smoldering fire of anger, which had been lying dormant for so long, had finally erupted into flames.

“Babuji, please calm down, your anger will not help, it will only make matters worse and it is not good for your health” Abdul Sahab spoke softly but strongly.

“Anger is the only thing that will help; we cannot take all this lying down. We have to fight, Abdul, we have to fight”.

“How do you suppose we can fight them Babuji? They are the Indian army, they have all the power in the world, and they can crush us like insects. It is better to keep quiet and see to it that we do not do anything to provoke them”.

“What had Khalid done to provoke them? Is he a criminal? Is he some kind of a maniacal killer?” Babuji was a handsome man with a very good looking face. With each word that he uttered his face started becoming totally contorted with rage. “And do you know what the major told me? Why did it take me such a long time to come back? Listen to me and you will realize how mad the Indian army has become or maybe it was already mad? I was told that Khalid was a foreign spy;I was told all my friends who came to see me were enemies of the state. I was told that you, yes, you Abdul, were a part of a huge conspiracy against India. You are a Pakistani spy, Abdul and so are all my friends, the friends with whom I have spent my whole life! Do you know what they want? They want me to snap all ties with you people, the major went to the extent of warning me that it was for my good and the good of my family that I leave Kashmir. Imagine, Abdul, Imagine Bittu, imagine, Dhanvati, I am being asked to leave my native place, my beloved Kashmir. Let me tell you, they can kill me but they cannot take Kashmir away from me or me away from Kashmir!” His words were resonating in the room like thunder.

“Babuji, it is no point talking about all this. The army is only doing its duty. The Indian army feels that this movement for freedom is a threat to India and they have every right to try and crush this movement. Don’t forget Babuji, almost all your Kashmiri Pundit relatives and friends were forced to leave because they were afraid of us, afraid of Muslims. We cannot escape our responsibility for the current state of affairs, Babuji, we cannot” Abdul said emphatically.

“Tell me Abdul, did you ask my son to leave? Did any of my Muslim friends ask him or ask my brother to leave? Just because a couple of gun toting groups started spreading terror by killing some Pundits ,doesn’t mean that you people, that the whole Islamic community is our enemy? The army is acting in a manner that suggests all Muslims are to be taught a lesson and a lesson for what? A lesson for demanding freedom? Is fighting for freedom a crime? We have always believed that freedom was our birthright, haven’t we? Listen, Abdul, I am going to fight these people till my last breath, I am not going to leave Kashmir and I am not going to surrender to these vultures in uniform, have I made myself clear? Now no more discussion on this”. Babuji was exhausted and he leaned back and rested his head on the bolster behind him. Abdul and I exchanged glances. Amma and Sayeeda were sitting like living statues, statues which someone had tried to break but had not succeeded.

“I am going to serve dinner, everyone must be hungry, Abdul and Sayeeda, you also have dinner with us, I will not take no for an answer”. Amma meant every word that she said.

I will help you, Amma”. Sayeeda said and both the ladies walked into the kitchen. Khalid was still sleeping soundly but soon I would have to wake him up, he had not eaten since the morning.

“Abdul, I need your help, I know I can rely on you” Babuji had got up again and there was renewed energy in his voice which took me by surprise. I wondered what was to come now.

“There is some good news, wanted to tell you, but have been busy the last couple of days”.

 What good news could there be?  Had Babuji become a little soft in the head after the shocks he had undergone since the morning?

“Of course, Babuji, I am ready to help in every possible way. What do I have to do, just say it and it will be done”. Abdul also sounded as if he was also thinking the way I was.

“First, let me give you the good news. Our Bittuji is getting married.” What was Babuji up to?

“Hey, Mubarak, Mubarak, congratulations, we had no idea. When is the marriage and when do we have to go to Amritsar?” Abdul asked and he was genuinely happy at hearing the news.

“The engagement took place in Amritsar and Amma wants the marriage to take place in Srinagar. By the way the girl is a Punjabi, but that does not matter. The situation here is such that Lalaji and Bahuji will not be able to come; we also don’t want them to come. The girl’s parents are also not coming for the same reason. The girl will arrive on the morning flight from Delhi day after tomorrow. I want a couple of favours from you, Abdul”

“Anything for you Babuji” .

“I want you to make arrangements for Bittu to go to the airport and to….” Babuji seemed a little hesitant to carry on.

“Come on, Babuji, what else?”

“Well, Abdul, the marriage is yet to take place. The girl, whatever her name is. ..Oh yes, it is Anita, cannot stay in our house, not before they get married. I want you to let Anita stay with you till the marriage takes place” .I was totally flabbergasted. This was the last thing I had expected. This man had gone through so much pain the whole day and yet he had not forgotten me and my problems. I could not help but remember the last words of one of the plays of G B Shaw play-

“What a man! Is he a man?”

Who is she,Part 40

Part 40

But Babuji did not come. We waited and waited. I made many visits to the gate, looked up and down the road, but no sign of anyone, no sign of the person I wanted to see walking towards the house. What could have gone wrong?  From what Khalid had said, the army had tried to browbeat Babuji  into acceding to their request or should I say command? The army did not want Babuji to have any truck with the Muslims. The remark by the major that all the Muslims who visited the house were spies was totally farcical. Babuji had known these people for years and years, some of them had been his colleagues, some of them were his close friends. What was the army’s purpose in all this? As a matter of fact, I was unable to grasp the army’s motive of torturing Khalid. It was all very confusing. Everything that I had seen so far was beyond my comprehension. When I came to Srinagar, I had very little idea of what was wrong. My involvement with Anita had shut my eyes to what had been going on in the outside world. The terrorism in Punjab had also not affected me much as my heart was completely love stricken and this love had conquered the fear of getting killed at the hands of the terrorists. In a way, I had lived the last five years of my life, completely shut in my own ivory tower, unaware of what was happening outside. This visit to Kashmir had made me take my first steps, very reluctant steps, out of the tower of my own making. And now, here I was, facing a situation I was not remotely familiar with.

I was sure Babuji would never surrender before the Indian army. He was a tough nut to crack, a man of great character. He was renowned for his mental strength. Everyone loved and admired him. He had always stood by his friends, helped them in the hour of their need. I admit, he had not been honest as far as his job went. He was committed to his work but not averse to having his palms greased but this was not considered a negative trait, on the contrary not taking bribes was supposed to be abnormal. Apart from this weakness, Babuji had been a man of unimpeachable character. What could the army do with him? They had been merciless with Khalid because for them he was a nobody. They could not afford to treat Babuji in a similar manner. He was a well known person, having retired from the P.W.D.   as an Executive engineer which was quite a senior post in the department. If a hair of Babuji was hurt, it would make news all over Kashmir and discredit the army. Moreover, Babuji’s faith was also an important factor. In the past couple of days I had become enlightened to the fact that the forces were unsympathetic towards the Mulims but did not harm the Kashmiri Pundits. I had already seen a few examples of this blatant discrimination and no one would ever be able to convince me of the secular nature of the Indian army, secular my foot!

Amma was still sitting by Khalid’s side, she had not moved from her place. She kept on talking to Khalid, stroking his wounded face gently and at the same time kept on asking me whether Babuji had come. She was worried about Khalid’s condition, she felt his pain but she did not seem to be worried about Babuji. She had told me Babuji  had a habit of always coming home before dark and although it was nearing nine now, she acted as if she knew Babuji would be coming home soon. Suddenly she got up and headed for the kitchen, saying that she start preparing for dinner, Babuji would be hungry by the time he came back. She sounded perfectly normal but I wondered if behaving in this manner under such circumstances was normal? Any other woman would have been hysterical by now but Amma  had nerves of steel.

Khalid had fallen off to sleep. His breathing was normal; the painkiller was having its effect. He would mumble something from time to time and also groan with pain but there was no doubt in my mind that the worst was over for him, at least, for the present. All my thoughts were now focused on Babuji. To say that I was worried would be making an understatement. The worst part of it all was I did not know where to go for help. The families I knew had all disappeared, I mean, they had all left. All the neighbours whom I had been very close to, had left for unknown destinations. Our next door neighbor was a Muslim, I knew him very well not only him but all his family. I had broken many a window pane of his house with my ferocious hitting but he had never once reprimanded me. I could go to him but I did not want him to get mixed up in all this. I would be putting him to trouble if I did and that I did not want. I was in desperate need of some psychological help, some consolation. I wanted somebody who would at least be near me, somebody elder to me ; somebody more mature than me. What was wrong if I went across to Abdul Sahab’s house and apprised him of the latest developments? I convinced myself that there was nothing wrong and the next moment I was standing at the door of Abdul Sahab’s house and ringing the bell. Abdul Sahab himself opened the door; there was a look of suppressed fear on his face, quite understandable. Everyone seemed to be living in fear out here, an emotion we had been total strangers to when I was in school. How things had changed, how Kashmir had changed!

“Bittuji, is everything alright?” His words were a whisper as if he was afraid someone would overhear us. The question was perfectly logical.

“No, sir, nothing is alright”. Then I opened up and told him everything, I started crying, tears rolled down my face, all my pent up emotions burst forth. I had controlled myself in front of Amma, tried to put up a façade of bravery but I was no hero and I was only twenty two years old! Abdul Sir hugged me tightly, went inside, said something to his wife and she also followed. I remembered her name, it was Sayeeda. She was in her early fifties, very pretty and graceful as most Kashmiri women are, but the most important part of her personality was her affectionate heart. I had not forgotten the Kashmiri delicacies she would specially make for me. Those ristas and goshtabas which she used to make were some of the most delicious I had ever had. As I recalled the taste, my mouth started watering even at the time of such intense stress. Sayeeda also gave me a warm hug, saying that she had wanted to come and see me but had not been able to because of some reason or the other. She said, she would have definitely come the next day.

As the three of us entered the living room, Amma had once again occupied the same place by Khalid’s side. Khalid had not woken up yet. The moment Amma saw us, she could not control herself and started weeping but silently, conscious that Khalid would be disturbed.

“Look Sayeeda, what have they done? What had poor Khalid done to them to deserve this?” Sayeeda sat near Amma and gave her a sideways hug. Abdul Sahab told me to let the ladies alone and took me to the baithak. We had forgotten to switch on the lights of the room; it was in complete darkness just like our minds and hearts. I switched on the lights and as I did so I was again reminded of the movies in which the switching  on of the lights would symbolize the end of all troubles but no such miracle took place here. Abdul sahib held my hand and made me sit down, he put a bolster behind my back and sat down in front of me.

“I know what you must have gone through so you must relax. Don’t worry, now that I am here, I will take care of everything” his words were very comforting and I started crying again. It seemed that all the emotions which I had kept suppressed the whole day, had finally found an outlet.

“Now tell me all the details, everything that happened since the morning” and I told him everything, did not hold back anything. He heard me out patiently, did not say a word, just nodded or shook his head now and then.

“I can understand why they were angry with Khalid, they did not like his interference when they were beating you up. Why subject him to this torture, what was the necessity of that? I don’t believe they really suspected Khalid of being a spy. Some sick officer with a sick mind must have thought of this sick way of taking revenge. Whether it is the police or the army, they do not like civilians crossing their paths and if anyone does, they hit back with terrific ferocity, as you have seen for yourself”.

“Khalid had the temerity to ask them to stop beating me up so they took their revenge but what about Babuji, what has he done, why have they held him, why aren’t they letting him go?”

“That is something which I am also not able to understand but as I think about what you just told me, I am beginning to see the logic behind their action. Look, Bittuji, you have not been here for a long time. You are familiar with the Kashmir of your childhood days when the only kind of violence we would                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                 hear of was kaney jung”. kaney jung was a fight with stones. Whenever there used to be a bitter fight between two groups, they would throw stones at one another, hardly anyone would get hurt. The use of a knife or a dagger was unheard of and guns were only seen in movies.

“Now everything has changed, stones have been replaced by guns, there are the guns of some misguided youth and there are the guns of the army”. Abdul Sahab continued.

“Abdul Sahab ,why did the youth take to guns and why were Kashmiri Pundits forced to leave?”

“The answer to these questions is not simple, son. Kashmiris have never considered themselves to be Indians; this was the case from the beginning. In the last couple of years the demand for independence became vociferous and processions were taken out, demanding Independence. Some fanatic Kashmiri groups tried to create an atmosphere of fear among the Pundits in various ways. Many Pundits were killed. The fear became too much for the Pundits to bear and they decided to leave in order to stay alive. The government did not do anything to stop them, the government didn’t even try,   it was as if they wanted the Pundits to leave. Since then we have not had a moment of peace. The security forces have killed many people, firing indiscriminately at unarmed protesters”. He was telling me all this very slowly so that I could understand whatever he was saying clearly. Suddenly, I heard the sound of the gate opening. We both rushed out and all we could see in the dark was a figure which looked like the figure of Babuji  but the walk was slow and labored, he was trying to hold on to the wall of the house for support. Abdul Sahab was the first to reach him. I stood rooted to the ground, boiling with impotent rage!

Who is she, Part 39

Part 39

“Oh, Khalida,Khalida, what has happened to you, what have these devils done to you, oh, why did you go out at all, it is all my fault, yes it’s my fault, I should have stopped you, God, Oh God, why didn’t I stop You! My love for Bittuji had  blinded me, get up Khalid, get up, Bittuji do something” Amma was weeping and speaking at the same time. She was kneeling down in front of Khalid and trying her best to lift his wounded head off the floor but her arms seemed to have lost all strength.

Khalid was groaning and moaning with pain and muttering something unintelligible. He could hardly open his eyes; he was in a semi conscious state. The bleeding had not stopped. I swung into action. I took hold of both his arms and somehow managed to make him stand on his tottering legs. I put my right arm around his shoulder and his left arm around mine and slowly made him climb the few stairs up to the verandah. Khalid was a heavily built man and since he was unable to use his own strength, I was carrying nearly all his weight. We reached the top of the verandah and from there, slowly but surely, I took him straight to the living room. I helped him lie down and then decided to have a close look at him.

His face had started swelling; there was swelling around his eyes. There were deep cuts and bruises on his face; it seemed somebody had cut him up with a sharp instrument, possibly a knife. He seemed to have been punched in the nose as well; his whole face was a mass of blood. It made a frightening sight. I had never seen anything like this before, not in real life. I was reminded of the movies where they showed the condition of people who had been tortured. I knew, Khalid had been subjected to torture of the worst kind. I knew Babuji kept a well stocked first aid kit in the house, I asked Amma about it and she told me it was in her room. Tears were still flowing down her cheeks but I had no time to console her. I rushed upstairs, found the box and ran down the stairs. It was important to wash the wounds and try to stop the bleeding. I went into the kitchen, boiled some water and put it into the first bowl that my eyes fell on.

I added a few drops of Dettol to the water, took a swab of cotton and very carefully started washing Khalid’s face. Each time I touched his face, a cry of pain escaped his lips. I had never dressed up any one’s wounds before but I had seen others doing it so I was just following my instincts and whatever little I had seen for myself. Finally, I finished washing up his whole face. The water in the bowl had become completely red; the very sight of so much blood was repulsive. I had another look at Khalid’s face, it looked cleaner but it was in a complete mess. Blood continued to ooze out of some of the wounds and I kept on wiping it. He needed a doctor, he needed to be taken to a hospital, he needed medical attention but unfortunately all he had was an ignorant fool like me who had absolutely no idea about how to go about treating such people. He was still groaning with pain, I took out a painkiller from the box, and made him swallow it with great difficulty.

Amma was watching me and sobbing silently. She had stopped saying anything. She kept on staring at Khalid as if willing him to get up and serve us tea. The terrible and shocking entry of Khalid had coincided with our evening tea time and I had been waiting for my mouth watering katlams. Another wave of guilt swept over me. I was looking at Khalid’s face and the swelling was growing. His face had become nearly double his normal size. Dear old Khalid, who had never hurt anybody in his life, who had always taken care of others, who had immense love for all, had been  treated like an animal and only brutish beasts could have acted so cruelly.

My God, we had forgotten all about Babuji! He had left in search of Khalid at about five thirty; the time was nearing seven thirty that was almost two hours. Moza’s house, the place where he had said he was going, was only ten minutes walk from our house, what had taken him such a long time? He had said that the major, in charge of the Karan Nagar headquarters of the Indian army was known to him, therefore we need not worry, then what was it that had held him up? Amma was too involved with Khalid’s painful plight that the thought of Babuji had not entered her mind as yet but soon she would start asking questions, questions which I doubt I would have an answer to! Khalid started groaning again, he opened his eyes and for the first time there was a look of recognition in his eyes. He looked at me and then his eyes shifted a little and fell on Amma.

“Where is Babuji?” It was with great effort that he managed to utter these three words, the pain in his voice was palpable.

“He is in the other room; he was here a moment ago. Khalid, who did this to you? Who were the ones who attacked you?”

“They were the same army people, who hit you in the morning, Bittuji. And there were many others.”

“Why? They knew who you were then why did they do this to you?” Tears started flowing down his blood soaked face. I realized the memories of what he had been through were hurting him more than his wounds. He remained silent for a while; it was obvious he was trying to regain some strength in order to speak. So far we had only seen the wounds on his face, we had no idea which other parts of his body had been damaged! I had read in novels and seen in movies that the police beat up victims in such an expert manner that the wounds could not be seen. The same seemed to be the case with him.

“I had reached the rear door of the baker’s shop and was about to enter, when strong hands held me from behind. I tried to cry out but two people came from the front, one of them put his hand over my mouth and the other put a cloth over my face. I felt a strong blow on my head and after that there was darkness all around”. Every word that he spoke required immense effort on his part. He was in terrible pain and I thought it was better not ask him any more questions, at least, not for the time being.

I glanced at my watch; it was nearing eight and still no sign of Babuji. Where could he be? Had the army captured him but that was impossible, they knew him, he was a Kashmiri Pundit and from what I had gathered so far, the security forces did not harm Hindus, their targets were only Muslims. The captain, who had come in the morning to arrest Khalid, had been very respectful towards Babuji. Why would the army want to harm him?

“Bittuji, Babuji has not come back yet, what has taken him so long? It is already dark; he always makes it a point to return home before nightfall, he would do that even during normal times. I am worried, son, where can he be?”

“He must be chatting away with the major, Amma, didn’t he say the major was a good friend of his? Maybe, they must be having a drink together.” I said, trying to sound as jovial as I could.

“What nonsense? Don’t you know he doesn’t touch liquor at all? He hasn’t had a drop all his life and you are trying to tell me he must be drinking with these devils when he cannot even dream of drinking with the angels?” This was true. Babuji had never had alcohol in his life and there was no way he would start now.

“Babuji was there, I heard his voice” Khalid spoke in a whisper.

“Where did you hear his voice?”

“The place where they had taken me to, probably it must have been the Mozas’ house, I don’t really remember” .Khalid was in pain but he was determined to tell us whatever he knew.

“The army wallas were beating me up when someone came and asked them to stop. They must have been afraid that Babuji would hear my cries of intolerable pain. I had been tied to a chair so I could not get up. I would have shouted out Babuji’s name but they immediately shut my mouth up by stuffing it witha huge bundle of cloth”. Goodness me, I had seen such scenes in many movies but never imagined such things could happen in real life also! Was Khalid speaking the truth or was he also recalling scenes of some movie he had seen? I remembered he was very fond of movies, particularly action movies. How mean of me to think Khalid was imagining all these things when I was pretty sure that every word that he had said was the truth and nothing but the truth.

“Are you sure it was Babuji’s voice?” I asked, although I knew the answer.

“Don’t I recognize my own Babuji’s voice, how can you doubt me?” He had been hurt by my question, so hurt that he found the strength to lift up his head from the pillow which must have caused his battered body a lot of pain.

“Khalid, I do not doubt you at all, after all who knows Babuji better than you do?” I said in a conciliatory tone. “Tell us what you heard.”

“Babuji asked the Major about me but the major said he had no idea. Then he asked one of his men whether anyone of them had seen me and he replied in the negative. Khalid carried on with his narrative.

“Where could he have gone then?” Babuji asked the major.

“No need to worry about him Mr. Rajnath, he must have gone to see some of his friends, he has many, you know. I wanted to tell you one thing, why are you letting these people live in your house, they are traitors you know?”

“Traitors, my foot, Khalid is a part of my family and you have no business to tell me anything against him” .I could imagine how angry Babuji must have been!

“I also notice a lot of Muslims coming to your house every day, they are all on our list of suspects, you know”. Khalid was trying to recollect every word that he had heard, it was taking a lot out of him and I asked him to stop, although I wanted to know more. He continued, nevertheless. Babuji had again lost his temper. The major tried to pacify him and asked him to join him for a cup of tea. After this, Khalid did not hear anything. Obviously, the major had taken Babuji to some other room from where Khalid was not able to hear anything else.

Was it possible for the army to stoop so low and accuse Babuji of giving shelter to so called traitors? Whatever little I had seen of the Indian Army in Kashmir, I knew they were capable of anything. A cold shiver ran down my spine as I looked at the door, hoping, against hope,to see Babuji enter at any moment!

Who is she,Part38

Part 38

Babuji started moving towards the door, each step that he took towards the door was taken in a hesitant manner  as though he was not sure what he was up to .It was obvious he did not know where to go and how to find Khalid. Where was he thinking of going? There was a curfew outside. When stopped, what explanation would he give to the security forces?  They would, of course not, treat him the way they 

had treated me but they would certainly stop him from going anywhere. They would ask him very politely to go back to his home. Under these circumstances how was it possible for him to locate Khalid or get any information of his whereabouts?

“Babuji, the army people will not let you go anywhere, so what is the point in going out?” I said.

“To hell with these army wallas, they have made life difficult for us. Instead of solving problems, they only aggravate them. Don’t you worry, Bittuji, they will not say anything to me. All the officers and soldiers on duty in this area know me very well. I will go to their commanding officer and ask him if they have any news of Khalid. They also know him very well.”

“If they know him well, why had that captain come in the morning with those ridiculous allegations against him? I am sure the same officer must have taken him away as he had threatened to do in the morning.” I said, my temper flaring up a little as I recalled the events of the morning.

“He must have been posted here recently; I don’t remember having seen him earlier. That is why he was not aware of the facts. He must have become angry at the way Khalid intervened to save you in the morning and must have cooked up a plan to teach him a lesson. One should never trust the police, they are brutes, I tell you!”

“Babuji, you are yourself saying these security forces cannot be trusted, then why are you taking the risk of venturing out?”

“What else do you expect me to do? Should I sit at home and keep twiddling my thumbs while they beat up Khalid to a pulp? I have to do something to save him, I have to, I have to…I can’t let anything happen to him, he has been like a son to us, in fact, more than a son, all my sons left but he did not leave us. I must do something, I must, I must…!” Babuji was muttering to himself now, he had not opened the door as yet; he had started pacing up and down the corridor. He was unsure of how he should proceed. Amma was standing at door of the baithak and trying to stop her tears from flowing down her cheeks.

These old and helpless people were truly attached to Khalid. They loved him dearly. Khalid had been in the house for God knows how long. I did not have any memories of my childhood without Khalid being a part of them. I was told Babuji had brought him to work for us much before my birth. He had served my uncles, aunts and all other members of this large family. Not a day would pass without his getting a scolding from someone or the other but he was never the one to complain. I was reminded of an incident when Khalid had received a severe tongue lashing from my father. He had stood there silently with his head bowed and had not even bothered to give an explanation, not cared to tell Lalaji that he had not done what he was accused of having done. I was a witness to the whole scene, I was about ten years old at that time, and I distinctly recollect having a strong urge to hit my father with whatever I could lay my hands on because I knew Khalid was being subjected to injustice and I could not tolerate injustice then as I could not tolerate it now. At that time I was unable to say or do anything. I had gone to Babuji and told him everything. Babuji had a heart to heart talk with Khalid, put his arm around his shoulders and made him understand that Lalaji was not a bad soul; his only fault was he could not control his temper. Khalid hardly needed to be pacified since he did not look hurt at all.

This was the man we were all worried about and why shouldn’t we be? I felt very guilty. Had I not been fond of katlams, Khalid would not have gone out. He took the risk of stepping out of the house because he wanted his dear Bittuji to have his favourite katlams. Why had we not been more insistent on stopping him?

“I will go and talk to the Major. He knows me well and he will surely help me.”

“But how will you find him, Babuji?”

“Bittu, the army has set up its headquarters in Karan Nagar in a house nearby. The house belongs to the Mozas, do you remember the Mozas?”  I certainly remembered the Mozas, I used to play cricket with their son. “The house was vacant since the whole Moza family has left like the others. The army occupied the house, pulled down the boundary walls, dug up bunkers all around and barricaded all the lanes leading to the house. No one can go there without permission but they will let me in, as they know who I am” .These last words seemed to give Babuji a sense of satisfaction, a feeling of self importance.

“Let me come with you Babuji” I pleaded, knowing  fully well, he would not agree.

“No, you stay here with Amma, I will not take long”. Babuji went out of the door, onto the verandah and then out of the main gate.

‘’Let’s sit outside in the lawn and wait from him there”, Amma said. It was around quarter to six, the evening was very pleasant, as evenings in Srinagar generally are, particularly in the month of August. A few chairs would always be there in the lawn and I could spot five chairs and a small table. I took Amma by the hand and helped her down the few stairs of the verandah, leading to the lawn. I made her sit down first. She was trembling all over. I felt very sorry for her, sorry for her that she had to face all this at her age, sorry for her that she had been left all alone, sorry for her because the woman who had lived like a queen all her life had no one to look after her now! The world had become a very selfish place; people were obsessed with their selves and nothing else. Why should an old couple have to live alone in this manner? Where had all those people gone whom Amma had served her whole life?  I might have my own selfish motive in making these remarks but it was a fact that both Babuji and Amma had devoted their lives to the family. They had never discriminated between their own sons and daughters and their nieces and nephews ,treating everyone equally. Such pious souls deserved to live in comfort at this stage; they needed to have their kith and kin around them. But what was the kind of life they were leading? When Amma should have been ordering for the food to be served, it was she who had to do the cooking and Khalid was her only help. Tears started rolling down my cheeks as I thought of their pathetic plight.

Whom should I blame for their condition? Who was responsible for a couple, who were nearing their eighties, for having to lead a life like this? My father had left Kashmir in the sixties because it was the demand of his job. Of all the people in the family, he was the only one who had taken up a job with The Central Government of India. All the other working members of the family had been employees of the state government, of the P.W.D. in particular. They could have easily stayed back in Kashmir. What had been their compulsion to leave? Most of my relatives had left the house much before the present trouble started. They had got themselves transferred out of Srinagar and out of the house. I recalled snatches of conversations which I used to hear, mind you, I was no eavesdropper, and when I put everything together I realized that the wives did not want to live in a joint family. They must have had their own problems, which was not possible for me to understand at that time. All I could gather from whatever little I used to hear was that everyone wanted to live independently and so they left. The others, who had stayed behind, succumbed to fear and went away, not sparing a thought for Babuji and Amma , leaving them to fend for themselves.

As I was lost in my musings, I noticed that Amma’s eyes were completely focused on the gate. She had not spoken a single word since Babuji had left and I doubt if she had even blinked once while continuously staring at the gate. Earlier it was the absence of Khalid that had bothered her and now Babuji had added to her woes.

“Amma, don’t worry. Babuji will come back and bring Khalid along. You just relax”.

“How can I relax, you don’t know what has been happening in Kashmir lately. I have no interest in politics so I don’t know why all this is happening. All I know is that Pundits have left, they tell me the Muslims were responsible for their leaving but I don’t believe that. Papaji left along with his family, I tried my best to stop them but they said,if they didn’t leave they would be killed. Your granduncle, Gasha also left along with his family. Babuji made all efforts to persuade them to stay but they also said the same, they would be killed by the Muslims. Tell, me Bittiji, why should the Muslims want to kill us? We have lived together for years and years,;some of our best friends are Muslims. Why would they suddenly turn into our enemies? One thing more, Bittuji, in all these months, not a single Muslim has come to our house and threatened us in any way. They all love us Bittuji, they are not our enemies. Somebody has cast an evil eye on  our beloved Kashmir”.I was listening to Amma  with rapt attention, mesmerized by her words of earthy wisdom ,when the gate crashed open Khalid stumbled in. He was hardly able to stand. There was blood all over his face; there was blood on his pheran and when I rushed towards him, I could see that he was bleeding all over. His face had been bruised and battered;drops of blood kept rolling down his body and onto the floor.

“Hai Khudaya,morhos ha” [Oh God they have killed me) He cried out and collapsed on the ground just near the stairs of the verandah. The sight made me sick, I felt like vomiting but I managed to control myself. Who were the barbarians who had beaten him up so cruelly and mercilessly?

Who is she,Part37

Part 37

“Wha,,wh…whaaa..What did you say? Have you gone mad? Have you lost your senses? Do you mean to tell me that Anita is going to run away from her home, run away from her parents? How can she do that? I am not going to allow any such thing to happen, do you understand? Whatever I said to Suri Sahab in the morning was said just to frighten him a little and make him change his mind. Do you seriously think I really meant what I said? I thought maybe he might cancel the engagement or whatever it was supposed to be. Now that he has not done that, the girl, whatever her name is, must marry according to the wishes of her parents. Do you get me?” Babuji had shouted himself hoarse and by the time he spoke the last few words, the baritone had become almost a squeak.

“Babuji, I did not ask her to leave her home, she didn’t even ask me what she should do, she only informed me that she would be leaving Chandigarh on the morning of the tenth and disconnected the phone. I didn’t have time to say anything. I am not even sure she will be able to come, I have no idea how she will manage!”

“Do you realize what your darling son is about to do?” the question was addressed to Amma. All along she had been a mute spectator, not daring to utter a single word.

“How should I know? Do you people ever bother to tell me anything? It has been a tradition in this family that women are never consulted on these matters, men folk have always taken all the important decisions and continue to do so. You never took me into confidence when I was young so what is the need of doing so now, when I am just a poor old lady, deserted by everyone?”

“This is no time to rake up the past and let me tell you your grudges are all false. I gave you the responsibility of running the whole household, how many husbands do that? Who took the final decision on Lalaji’s marriage? Who was the one who chose Papaji’s wife? Who insisted that Ratna would be the wife of Makhna? Answer me? Were all these important decisions taken by me? You were the one who behaved dictatorially in all these marriages. Did I say a single word? Did you even allow me to give an opinion? And now you sit there and say that you had no say in the matters of the family. What rubbish! There was a great difference between the way my brothers treated their wives and the way I treated you, my dear lady so don’t sit there and give me sermons about how the men of the family used to treat their wives!” Babuji had become calmer now, the baritone had returned but the anger still remained.

“I am in no mood to argue with you, you have always had the last word so why should I waste my energy? I know in this case also, you will not anyone to go against whatever you decide”

“Dhanvati, Bittuji is going to marry a Punjabi girl and it is not going to be the kind of marriage you had dreamt of!” I had never heard Babuji address Amma by her name, this was the first time he was doing so, at least, in my presence.

“I suspected something of that sort when you were shouting over the phone in the morning but I never thought the matter had reached a flashpoint. I didn’t say anything because Bittuji is young and at his age such things happen but I know he will marry the girl I choose for him and it will be a beautiful Kashmiri girl, not a dark complexioned Punjabi girl” That was the time when every non Kashmiri girl was called a Punjabi, whether she was from the North, the south, the East or the West. It was not just girls, every non Kashmiri happened to be a Punjabi. Kashmiris, being fair themselves had an obsession for fair skin and an aversion for dark skinned people. Sometimes I would wonder if we were not among the most racist people in the world. As Amma was talking about finding a beautiful Kashmiri girl for me, it occurred to me that Anita was as fair as any Kashmiri girl and even had the typical aquiline nose of the Kashmiris. Amma would have no objections on that score at least!

“Bittuji, won’t you marry the girl of my choice? Look, my son, I am old now, god knows how much more life is left in me but my last wish is that you marry a Kashmiri girl of my choice, won’t you fulfill this desire of an old lady?” The other weapons had not been exhausted as yet and Amma was already using that last weapon of all mothers, emotional blackmail.

“Amma, I want to marry, Anita, she is a very nice girl, you will like her, I am sure. Lalaji and Bahuji also like her and they have no objections to this marriage”

“Who are Lalaji and Bahuji to decide for my son? They took my son away from me and now they want to away all my rights over him. I will not allow such a thing to happen. Bittuli, why did you go to Amritsar, why did you leave this mother broken hearted? Did I ever ill treat you? All your wishes were fulfilled, everyone would say that Bittuji is being looked after like a prince and just because Bahuji asked you to come to Amritsar, you readily agreed and forgot this mother of yours. Why, Bittuji, why?” These words simply came out of the blue. It was as if she was pouring her heart out for the first time since I had made that all important decision to join my parents. It was the first time that I realized how hurt Amma had been, at what was, according to her a desertion of the worst kind. I had never thought of all this from her point of view. She was right. I had behaved like an ungrateful wretch, how could I have even thought of leaving them?

”Dhanvati, will you stop all this? Your tears are not going to solve the problem at hand. We have to discuss what to do with this girl, whatever her name is!” I was not sure why Babuji avoided using Anita’s name, although I was aware of the fact that ‘Whatever……is’ was a catch phrase of his.

“There is nothing to discuss. Phone her up and tell her not to come, simple isn’t it?”

“It is not that simple, Amma. If I ring her up, someone else may pick up the phone. Her father or mother might receive the phone. What will I tell them? Will I inform them that their daughter is planning to run away and come to me? In case, Anita picks up, what am I going to tell her? Imagine, Amma, how hurt she will be if I tell her that I don’t want her to come to Kashmir? Amma, won’t she think I am ditching her, I am betraying her? Won’t she think I am not interested in marrying her? Just think of her plight, Amma, you can understand, being a woman yourself!” So it was my turn to indulge in a little bit of theatrical action but what else could I do?

“Why should I bother about her, I am concerned only with the happiness of my son!”

Exactly,Amma.” I immediately pounced upon the opportunity she had given me. “You won’t my happiness, don’t you and my happiness is Anita so that is simple, isn’t it?” Amma looked around helplessly, glanced at Babuji but Babuji did not show any inclination to say anything. He seemed to be deep in thought; I wondered what he was thinking about? I knew I was being unfair to Amma but as the old adage goes ‘everything is fair in love and war’.

Bittuji does it mean you will bring a Punjabi girl into the family? Bittuji, my darling son, no one from the family has ever married a Punjabi. What will people say? What will our relatives say?”

“Stop all this nonsense, will you?” Babuji suddenly came out of his reverie and thundered. “I don’t care whether he marries a Punjabi or an Englishwoman. The problem is, if this girl, whatever her name is, comes as planned, what are we going to do with her? Where will she stay and what if there is a curfew on that day? How will anyone receive her at the airport? She is coming to Kashmir for the first time and that too in these disturbed conditions. Once she reaches this place, she will be our responsibility, don’t forget that, Dhanvati. A guest is a guest after all even if he or she is not welcome” Babuji spoke slowly, it was clear he was considering the situation from every angle. I could not help but wonder at the open mindedness of this old man, that too in an orthodox society like ours. Kashmiri society was almost a closed society; we liked to mingle only with our own people, even Dogras (the people of Jammu) were looked down upon as outsiders, it was said the Dogras did not have that class which the Kashmiris had.

“Look, I don’t understand what you are talking about. The problem can easily be solved if you talk to her father and tell him the truth, why don’t you get up and make that important call. Since the morning you have been sitting in that chair of yours, now it is time to get up and take some action” I was not sure whether Amma was really serious about what she was saying, had she been serious, she would not have made such an uncalled for attack on Babuji although it was true that Babuji had left the chair only once that day and that was when we had gone into the other room for lunch.

“Hear me out, Dhanvati, and hear me out once and for all. I care a damn about what people will or will not think. This girl, whatever, I mean Anita, is about to take a very brave step. She is risking her whole future for this good for nothing son of yours. He doesn’t even have a job and yet that girl is prepared to marry him, she does not know whether Bittu will end up as peon in some government office, which is quite possible, let me tell you, yet she is taking a giant step. Do you know what that means, Dhanvati? It means that this girl, whatever her name, oh, why do I keep on forgetting her name? It is Anita, isn,t it? Anita loves your son a lot and I am not going to move a finger to destroy her happiness, to hell with this damned society!” My,God, Babuji was in his elements. It was rare for him to use swear words but  he didn’t seem to care. Once he finished, he first looked at me and then at Amma like an actor who had just given powerful performance and was waiting for a thunderous applause from the audience. Babuji’s words gladdened my heart and I saw rays and rays of bright hope surrounding me.

“It is time for tea and Khalid has still not come back” I could sense the tension in Amma’s voice and could see the worried look on her face. My problems had become so predominant that Khalid had completely slipped our minds. I looked at my watch. It was nearly two hours since he had gone which was very long indeed. Normally, he should have been back in 15 minutes. How selfish of me. I was overwhelmed with guilt.

“I think I will go out and have a look, let me see where he has gone. He might have thought of going to see his family but he wouldn’t have dared to go towaeds Kanya Kadal in this curfew” Babuji was half talking to himself and half to us. Kanya Kadal was the name of a bridge and the locality around it was also known by the same name. It was about a couple of kilometers from our house. Where could he have gone? I was afraid, extremely afraid!

who is she, Part 36

Part 36

Khalid did not have to face anything. Babuji had prepared himself for a lengthy verbal duel with the army captain and the officer also was in no mood to relent. I was afraid matters would go out of hand when Amma suddenly appeared on the scene.

“What is all this going on? Please calm down, please”, these words were addressed to Babuji. Then she turned towards the uniformed officer.

“Khalid has been working for us since he was a 15 year old kid. We know him very well, my son, we know he is not capable of doing what you are accusing him of having done. I am sure you also know what you have said is false. I am just like your mother, can you swear by me and say that the allegations you made against Khalid are true, can you?” Swearing was very common among Kashmiris, swearing by one’s mother, swearing by one’s father, swearing by one’s children and so on. This tool was used as some kind of an emotional blackmail and Amma was trying to do exactly that. Would it work with this man?

“Well, Aunty, since you vouch for him so strongly, I will not take any action but tell him to keep away from us in the future” .The moment he said these words  he turned around and walked out. So the Kashmiri way had worked, Amma had done what I thought was impossible. There was a look of triumph on her face as she turned towards Babuji.

“See, how I handled him, without shouting, without getting angry? You were needlessly blowing your top off. I have noticed you have started losing your temper at the drop of a hat, since Bittuji came. You never used to get angry in this manner, what has happened to you?” Babuji looked at me and smiled sheepishly.

“Nothing is wrong but if such things happen one is bound to lose one’s cool. You don’t expect me to be a silent spectator, do you?”

“No, I don’t but I also don’t expect you to shout the way you have been shouting since the morning. First, over the phone, and now, with this army man! You men don’t understand that some things  can easily be taken care of with love, men know only one way of solving a problem and that is violence, learn something from me” ,Amma said and gave me a mischievous look. She wanted me to know how smart she was.

There was no doubt that Amma was a very intelligent woman. She may have been illiterate but she was not a fool. Ours had been a joint family, comprising lots of people. We shared a common kitchen. Each member knew what his or her work was. There were lots of women in the house. There were daughters and there were daughters –in law. The senior most daughter-in law was in charge of the kitchen, she was the one who would supervise everything. The other daughters-in-law were given various house hold chores. Someone would look after the breakfast, someone would oversee the evening tea and the daughters would normally look after the serving part. Amma was the head of the family and the commander-in chief. It was she who distributed the work amongst the women folk; it was she who made decisions on what was to be cooked and what was not to be cooked. She was also the finance minister of the house. Babuji would give her a fixed amount every month and she would use this money judiciously. If anyone needed money for incurring any expenditure meant for running the house, she was the one who would be approached. Mind you, Amma was no ordinary woman and we had just seen a small example of that. She was short in height but not in stature and had just cut a tall ,gangling officer to size.

Amma informed us that lunch had been served so we dutifully marched towards the living room. Khalid had already laid down the paraphernalia. He was unusually quiet and naturally so. I wondered where he had hidden himself when the officer came for him. I was sure it was the invisible hand of our dear Amma which had kept him away in some corner of some room. Amma was a very resourceful lady and one could underestimate her at one’s own peril!

The gogji suen was superb and I enjoyed it thoroughly. Amma had put in her best culinary talent into use. I recalled that she had never been a good cook because she hardly ever entered the kitchen but now that she had been compelled to start cooking, she had not taken her job lightly. Now I could say she was a cook par excellence. Eating and enjoying my food, I forgot the events of the morning and my mood changed for the better, I even managed to crack a joke or two. Surprising what good food can do to your spirits! But the moment we finished eating and went back to the baithak, my problems returned to haunt me.

I had not one but many problems. The foremost among them was how to inform Babuji and Amma about Anita’s coming to Srinagar. How would they react? The news would come as a shock to them. They may not have been like other grandparents, in the sense that they were not very conservative but I could not brush aside the fact that they were not modern either. The only hope I had was their love for me, it was this love which might become my savior. That was the only light I could see in the overwhelming darkness around me. The second problem was my own uncertainty and the doubts I had about what Anita had said. It was impossible for me to fathom how she would manage to come all the way from Chandigarh to Srinagar. What plans had she made? How would she be able to give her parents the slip? The more I thought of it the more confused I became. She could have told me a lie to prevent me from creating some kind of a ruckus at the time of her marriage. I knew whatever Babuji had told Suri Sahab about sending me to Chandigarh was pure and simple bluffing. Maybe Mr. Suri had fallen for that bluff and in order to prevent anything untoward from happening had asked Anita to tell me what she did. Of course, it was clear that whatever Anita had told me had been said at the behest of her parents but what about those last few whispered words? The very fact that she had said them meant something was definitely going on inside her head.

“What are you thinking, Bittuji? Are you thinking about what happened in the morning? Forget about it, we are there with you, so why worry?  They are evil people, just keep away from them. If they stay here for long, they will ruin our beloved Kashmir. I am telling you, Bittuji, these Hindustani soldiers should leave otherwise we will soon see the waters of The Jhelum turning red, there will be blood flowing all around, mark my words!” I looked at this wizened old lady and wondered what she meant by all this. Little did I know that what she had just said would prove to be prophetic!

“No, Amma, I am not thinking about the morning at all, I have already put that behind me.” Here I was speaking the truth.

“That’s like my loving son. Put your head on my lap, the way you used to when you were small”. I did exactly as she said and immediately felt as if all my troubles had disappeared. I lay down like this and I don’t know when I dozed off. Suddenly I heard someone shouting and I got up with a start.

“Khalid you stay at home, you are not going anywhere, do you understand?”

“Babuji, I have to go to the baker’s and get some katlam, you know Bittuji loves to have them with his evening tea”.

“Khalid, are you mad? There is a curfew outside, they will catch you and no one will be able to do anything and how do you expect the shop to be open today? Do you think the kandhur is Bittuji’s relative that he will open his shop on the day of a curfew?” Kandhur meant a Kashmiri baker, a baker who baked rotis etc in the Kashmiri style.

“There have been many curfews in the past six months Babuji. I know how to beat the curfew and I also know that the Kandhur sells stuff from his home. Believe me Babuji, the soldiers will not be able to see me, I will be taking a by-lane. Let me go, please!” I looked at Khalid in utter astonishment. This man, who had almost been whisked away by the army in the morning, was ready to take the risk of going out just because he wanted me to have my favourite katlams! What a man! I could only wonder in amazement at the love he must have had for me and the family. This was the kind of love we had shared with our Muslim brethren, this was the way I had seen Kashmiris treat one another, regardless of their religious faith. And now I was told that Muslims wanted to kill us all! From what I had seen in the last couple of days, how could I believe the nonsense I had been fed?

“Khalid, you go, don’t listen to him”. Khalid gave a triumphant grin and rushed out. Babuji glared at Amma but did not say a word. While Khalid and Babuji were having this conversation, I had not moved at all, I was still lying down with my head on Amma’s lap. It felt extremely comforting. How I wished I would continue like this and just escape from the harsh reality around me! But how long could I escape, not for long, not for long at all.

“Babuji, there is something I want to tell you”. I had got up into a sitting posture now.

“Yes, Bittu, what is it?” Babuji asked me lovingly.

“I lied to you in the morning about Anita”. I knew this would infuriate him, he did not like any one telling lies.

“You mean to say you lied to me? I can’t believe it. We used to call you Satyawadi Harishchand, when you were in school because you always believed in speaking the truth, do you remember?” Raja Harishcandra was a king of the ancient times about him it was said that he sacrificed his kingdom and even his family for the sake of truth. Babuji was right, I had developed a reputation of being a truthful boy.

“I had no other choice but to tell lies. Anita is getting married day after tomorrow but she will not follow the wishes of her parents. She has booked her air ticket for Srinagar and she will be here on the morning of the tenth. I can never forget the expression on Babuji’s face. His jaw fell open, his hands started trembling and his anger started mounting!

What was I in for? I shuddered.

Who is she, Part 35

                                                                                         Part 35

Babuji and Amma were waiting at the door of the house. It was obvious Khalid had told them about my encounter with the army but they couldn’t have known about the slaps, had they known, Amma would have been howling. She hugged me; Babuji patted me gently on the back. This was the first time he had touched me since I had come, this meant a lot.

“Don’t you worry, whenever these people see a new face, they do ask questions” Amma said, trying to sound as normal as possible. Babuji didn’t say anything, he looked at me thoughtfully,  with  a slight worried expression on his face.

“Come let’s sit in the baithak” ,Babuji said. The drawing room was referred to as the baithak.”Khalid, get us some tea, will you?” We walked into the baithak.  Babuji occupied his chair and I sat down on the floor. Babuji was giving me an intense look. I could still feel a burning sensation on the cheeks. They had hit me so hard that it was a distinct possibility that the marks of their fingers were visible. In any case, my face must have looked red. The slaps had not hurt me physically, I didn’t feel any pain at all but they had wounded and bruised me badly inside. My ego had been hurt, my self-respect had been shattered. No one had ever slapped me. Babuji had never ever lifted even a finger to hit me. Amma had, many a time, stopped Babuji from hitting me. The question of Lalaji or Bahuji beating me or hitting me just did not arise, they were too scared of Babuji and Amma to even think of doing anything to hurt me. And now these insensitive sons of b…..s  were the ones to make me realize what it felt like being physically hit. Anger welled up inside me. I wished I had hit back, I felt like going out again and beating up both those bloody soldiers black and blue. They were not soldiers, they were cowards. Beating up unarmed and innocent people for no reason at all was a crime. They should be hanged.

“They hit you, didn’t they?” Babuji must have surely guessed everything from my looks.

“Yes, they slapped me”.

“Bittuji, I had told you this is not a place for you to stay, I wanted you to leave with Bhaisahab, I knew such an incident would take place one day or the other and I wanted to save you from all this but you didn’t listen”.

“Babuji, does that mean this place is not safe and if you know it is not safe, why didn’t you agree to come with us?”

“We have been living here since the trouble started, we know what to expect. You have no idea of anything. All this is totally alien to you, it is natural for you to feel shocked, and you have never known this present Kashmir before”.

“You agree then that things are not normal here?”

“I never said they were normal, what I said was that we did not have anything to fear”.

“If you do not have anything to fear, why should I be afraid, what is different for me?”

‘Bittuji, you are too young to understand all this, this is not the age for you to face all this”, Babuji was talking to me as if I were a kid. He seemed to have forgotten that I was in my twenties.

“Aren’t there any young men living in Kashmir or have they all left?’ I asked in a slightly sarcastic tone.

“You know very well that almost all the Kashmiri Pundits have left and that includes young men as well” Babuji was getting a little irritated.

“I am not talking only about Kashmiri Pundits, Babuji.  Has the Muslim youth also run away?”

“You are asking too many questions, Bittuji and I don’t have to answer you. Here comes the tea, it will help you to relax”. Khalid offered us the tea. I was not particularly keen to have tea but I started sipping anyway.

“I want know the answers, Babuji, I want to know why a peaceful Kashmir has turned into a warzone?”

“Why did Punjab turn into a battlefield? Wasn’t Punjab a peaceful place? You were there and you should know the answers, shouldn’t you?”

“You are trying to change the topic. Punjab was a different case altogether. You tell me about Kashmir”

“Well, since you are going to be here for some time now, you will see things for yourself. Whatever I tell you will be my point of view, I don’t want you to be influenced by my opinion, I want you to see the situation for yourself and have an independent view of your own” This sounded very reasonable to me. I also did not want to go by what others thought. The morning’s incident had taught me something, if not much, it had become clear to me that the security personnel did not like the Muslims.

“Khalid, when you went to the market in the morning for buying meat etc, there was no curfew, was there?” Babuji asked.

“No Babuji, at that time everything was normal, people were moving around freely”

“What must have happened to make them impose the curfew?”

“Babuji, I just met  Hamid Sahab” Abdul Hamid was our next door neighbor and his had been the only Mulim  family in our vicinity. “He said many people were killed in Lal Chowk. People were taking out a procession shouting slogans of Aazadi when they were fired upon. Hamid Sahab had no idea about how many lost their lives but he said the number was quite large. There is great anger among the people, Babuji” Khalid said, his own voice reflecting that anger.

“What the hell is wrong with the Indian army and this stupid government? When will they learn to face the truth? When will the army get to know that firing on innocent, unarmed people is cruel and inhuman? Why don’t  they understand that they are only aggravating the problem by their mindless acts?” Babuji sounded angry as well as disturbed.

“Babuji, do you favour this demand for Aazadi? Isn’t Kashmir a part of India?”

‘’No, it isn’t, ”Babuji almost shouted. “When was Kashmir a part of India? Read history, Bittu and you will come to know the real facts.” These words of Babuji took me by surprise. I had always considered Kashmir to be an important state of the country. Why was Babuji saying that Kashmir had never been a part of India? I was beginning to think that old age had begun to have its effect on Babuji’s mind. As I was wondering whether Babuji had gone senile, an army officer walked into the room without even having the courtesy of announcing himself, at least, by knocking at the door. I had a look at the lapels on the shoulder of his uniform. He was a captain of the Indian army.

“Good afternoon, Mr. Raj Nath. Is Khalid at home?”

“Hello, captain, why do you want to see Khalid?” It was obvious that these two had met before. They seemed to be familiar with each other.

“Khalid broke the curfew rules and he also tried to attack one of our jawans. We have to take him away for interrogation”.

“What the hell do you think you are doing? Khalid did nothing of that sort. If anyone has to be arrested, it should be those two Jawans who beat up my innocent son’’

 Babuji had got up from his chair and he was furious.

“Calm down, Sir, I am only doing my duty. We have information that Khalid is part of a terrorist group, responsible for the killing of many Pundits”.

“You are fully aware that what you are saying is a bundle of lies. What has happened to you people? Have you sold off your soul to the devil, where is your conscience? Why don’t you simply come to the point and admit that your job is to eliminate all the Muslims of Kashmir? You have gone mad and so has your Indian government.  You can arrest me for this statement for being a traitor but I care two hoots. You can arrest Khalid but over my dead body” .Babuji had now run amuck, even if I had tried I could not have stopped him.

The selfish man that I was, I could think of only one person and that was Anita. I had not told Babuji that Anita was going to come to Srinagar. After what I had seen today and what I was seeing at that time how would Babuji react to Anita’s coming to this place? For the first time I wished that Anita would cancel her trip to Srinagar, I did not think of what Khalid might have to face, it was Anita and only Anita that occupied my mind!