Who is she26

My room was on the top floor. I raced up the stairs as the prospect of going into my room, the place where I had spent some of the best moments of my brief life, was a thrilling one. In the process I forgot to take my suitcase with me. I thought I would have to go all the down again but decided to so only after having a look at my personal abode. I opened the door. The first thing I saw was my suitcase lying on the floor. How thoughtful of Khalid! I looked around. Everything was the way I had left it. My study table was right in front of one of the windows, where it always used to be. It was neat and clean, not a speck of dust on it. A copy of David Copperfield was lying on the table, along with a notebook. The bed had been freshly made with a wrinkle free blue coloured bed sheet covering it. The handiwork of dear old Khalid again! The first thing I did was to plonk myself on the chair in front of the table. I wanted to get that old feeling again but somehow I was not able to. The room might have looked the same but the change was very palpable. What that change was I could not fathom. I sat there, ruminating for a while and then got up and changed into my night dress. I was keen and eager to sit with my grandparents.

When I reached downstairs, I found Babuji and Amma in the dining hall. Babuji had  also changed his dress, he was now clad in a shirt and pajamas. Kashmiris were not in the habit of wearing kurtas and pyjamas, at least not in those days. Babuji had also removed his turban and I could see that he had lost quite a bit of hair. The thought that he was aging pained me no end. Amma was dressed in the same pheran in which she had greeted me. Both of them were sitting on the floor. We did not have a dining table. We would sit cross-legged on the floor and eat. This was the practice in most of the Kashmiri households. I removed my slippers and sat down beside my loving granny. Amma put her hand on my cheek and stroked my face affectionately.

“You will not leave me now, Bittuji, will you?”

“No amma, never”.  I knew I was lying but the truth would have hurt her. She was in a happy mood and I did want to do or say anything which would cause her any kind of pain.

“Oh, so everybody is here but where is the food?” Bhaisahab’s voice had suddenly found a new kind of resonance which had been entirely missing throughout the long journey.

“ Bhaisahaba, sit down, let us talk for sometime like we used to in the old days. Ah, how I miss those days! This room used to be full of people, gossiping and chattering while the food was being served. Now it is only your father and me and how much can we talk? You know your father, he doesn’t talk much. Shamima  is the only company I have but  she can’t spare a lot of time. She has her family to look after.” Shamima was the name of Khalid’s wife.

“That is precisely the reason we want you to leave this place. All your sons and relatives have left. Your daughters and daughters-in law are also not here to look after you, so why do you want to stay here?” Bhaisahab sounded irritated. I wondered whether the irritation was because of hunger which was always present in Bhaisahab’s vicinity ready to pounce at him unexpectedly!

“Where will I go at this age? I have spent all my life in this house, so has your father. We can never feel at home anywhere else. We have lived here and we will die here” It sounded like a dialogue from a Hindi movie but as far as I knew, Amma had never seen a movie in her life. The words came straight from her heart.

“What are you talking about, Amma? Everyone has left. People much older than you have deserted Kashmir. In any case, what is so special about this place now? It is no longer the Kashmir you are talking about. If you live here, you will always be living under the shadow of death. All the Muslims here are our enemies. They don’t want us here. Those who left were not fools; they realized they would be killed if they stayed back. Why don’t you understand?”

“Bhaisahab, will you keep quiet?” Babuji said sternly but without raising his voice.”Didn’t I tell you that we would not leave and didn’t I say we would not have any arguments over it? And what is this nonsense about Muslims being our enemies? You don’t know what you are saying! Yes, many pundits have left, they left because they were afraid, there was an atmosphere of fear all around but this was the creation of just a few fanatics. The majority of Muslims had nothing to do with it; they are as shocked at the way events have turned out. When your brother left, a lot of Muslims came and tried to persuade him to stay back but he was as scared as you seem to be. We also made efforts in our own way to stop him from leaving but he was blinded by fear.”

“Papaji was right and so were all the others who left. Do you know how many pundits have lost their lives to these mad men so far? Thousands have been killed and you talk about Muslims being our friends!”

“Rubbish, absolute rubbish! Who told you that thousands had been killed? The figure is not even a hundred, maybe even less. You people who live outside Kashmir willingly believe everything that is said or written against Muslims? We have been living here and so far no so called terrorist has come to us or threatened us in any way. On the contrary, dozens of Muslims come here every day and assure us of our safety. They make it a point to tell us not to leave. They care for us more than you people do, I am sorry, but that is the truth.”

“Babuji, you have lost all sense of reason. How can you believe these local people, how can you trust them?”

“I can trust them with my life. Are you satisfied now?” Babuji raised his voice while speaking the last few words.

Khalid came out of the kitchen and spread a big plastic sheet in front of us. I glanced at Bhaisahb and I could see his eyes light up.

“Khalid, what have you made for us tonight?” Bhaisahab asked with a gleam of expectation in his eyes. It was as if the angry exchange which I had just witnessed had not taken place at all. The wonders that the very thought of food could take place in Bhaisahab’s mind!

“I made only rice; Amma has cooked special Roganjosh for Bittuji with lots of chilies”

“Of course, I forgot Bittuji is the V.I.P. of the house, who cares about a commoner like me?”I wondered whether he was joking or did I sense a trace of jealousy in his voice?

Food was served in the traditional Kashmiri way. The thalis were laid first, thalis are big plates with raised edges, comfortable for rice eaters. Rice was the first thing to be served; each of our thalis was filled almost to the brim with rice. We Kashmiris are big rice eaters. Then came the Roganjosh. Ah, it looked very tempting. I loved Roganjosh, more than I loved kaliya or yakhni-names of some other common Kashmiri dishes. Bhaisahb was the first one to start eating.

“Oh god, help me, this is too much, Khalid bring me some water, quickly. Amma, don’t you know that I am not used to having so many chilies? You thought of Bittuji but not about me? You have all along pampered him and now that he has grown up, you still treat him like a king.” Khalid handed over a glass of water to Bhaisahb who immediately gulped it down and heaved a sigh of relief.

“Ha ha ha, now I know why Bhaisahab is so afraid. A man who cannot handle a little bit of chilies will not be able to face any tough situation in life!” Babuji remarked jovially. He was grinning and this was the first time I had seen him smile since we came. Bhaisahb started eating again and this time mixed a lot of curd with the rice in order to lessen the effect of the chilies.

“Bhaisahb, if you don’t like chilies, don’t have mutton. I will get you some haakh which I had cooked in the morning”. Amma said.

“Do you want to deprive me of my share of mutton also? Do you think I am going to leave everything for Bittuji? You don’t know how much food he had on the way, the way he was eating, I was afraid I was  going to run out of all the money I had! No, Amma, chilies or no chilies I am not going to let this prince of Persia have all the mutton.” I was about to say something but decided against it. After all, why spoil Bhaisahab’s mood again? Let him have his fun.

“Khalid, bring  a thali for yourself, you must be very hungry by now” .

“Yes, Babuji, right away”.

Khalid was coming towards us with a thali  brimming over with rice when there was a loud thumping at the main gate. I looked at my watch. It was well past 10.30. Who could it be at this time?

“Hey, Bittuji, don’t try to hide, we know you are here. Come out or we will break open the door’’.Someone shouted at the top of his voice.  Bhaisahab was the first to react. He quickly got up and rushed upstairs with the words,

”I am going to lock myself in my room”.

 “I am going to see who it is” Khalid said as the thumping grew louder.