Part 20
I sat down and waited for my father to say something more.
“Right since you have come here from Srinagar, you have visited that place only once and that was nearly five years ago. You have been so wrapped up in yourself and your love problems that you did not bother to even talk about your grandparents. We went to Kashmir last year but you refused to accompany us because Anita had become more important to you than anything or anyone else. Your mother kept on encouraging you and did not let me discuss these issues with you. Now matters have gone too far, so far that you seem to have no time for us also. You are at an age where nothing seems to matter to you except Anita. Bittu, need I remind you that you are no longer a teenager, you are almost twenty three now. It is time to think of matters which are more important than girls. Many Anitas will come and go but remember there are others who love you and whom you love. Has Anita had such a bewitching effect upon you that all else seems immaterial?” I had no patience for such long lectures and these words had a provocative effect upon my already stressed up mind.
“Papa, please spare me your lectures. I have not done anything wrong, have I? I have completed my studies just as you wanted me to. I have also got a job offer so in what has Anita impeded my progress?”
“I don’t know how you managed to do well in your studies, must have cheated, I am sure! Anyway, let’s forget about your love affairs for a while, shall we? Do you have any idea of what is going on in Kashmir?”
“Yes, of course I do. I read newspapers regularly. There is some violence going on there, a few people have been killed and some have left Kashmir. Nothing serious, I am sure. Violence takes place everywhere, so what is the big deal about Kashmir?”
Bittu I thought you loved Kashmir a lot but it hurts me to say that you seem to have forgotten about your native place. I am confident you know where Anita is right now but you don’t know where some of your uncles, aunts and cousins are at the moment, do you?”
“Come on, Papa, where else will they be. They must be at home enjoying themselves”
“I am ashamed of you, Bittu, ashamed of the fact that a girl has held you in her mesmerizing grip in such a way that you are least interested in the people with whom you spent most of your life so far. Ravi has hardly lived in Kashmir, yet he knows much more than you do. Now listen and listen carefully”
My father started telling me about the events in Kashmir since 1989. Some Kashmiri Pundits had been killed, an atmosphere of fear had been created by the Muslims of Kashmir, and they had asked the pundits in the valley to leave. Announcements were made from mosques; posters were pasted on the walls of the houses of the minority population, saying that the land belonged to the Muslims and Muslims alone. Processions were taken out demanding independence for Kashmir. The security forces had fired on some of these processions, resulting in the death of many innocent Kashmiri Muslims. Kashmiri Pundits were naturally scared, they felt totally insecure and started leaving the valley. My father told me that till date; almost the entire population of pundits had left and was leading a miserable life in makeshift camps in the city of Jammu. He went on to narrate a lot of individual incidents to me which is not necessary for me to mention here.
Listening to all this, really made me feel ashamed of myself. I had spent my entire child hood in Kashmir, I had been brought up by my grandparents, in fact, till I graduated from school, I had not known who my real parents were. For me, my father was my elder brother. What had gone wrong with me that the very grandparents whom I could not live without even for a second, had gone into the backward recesses of my mind? The answer was obvious. I was so blinded in my love for Anita that I had forgotten my grandparents; I was unaware of the tragedy which had befallen my beloved Kashmir. How could I have become so callous, how could my love for Anita have superseded my love for Kashmir? Try as I might, There was no way I could hold a plea for myself. I had been selfish, self obsessed and completely oblivious to the events taking place around me. It was time to make amends.
“Papa, what is the latest news from home?”
“Two of your uncles had already left Kashmir in January along with their families. Papaji (Everyone used to call my father’s elder brother Papaji) was still living there but he also left a few days back. We wouldn’t have known all this, had Khalid not called this morning.” Khalid had been with us since before my birth. He was almost like family. “Papaji wanted Babuji and Ammaji to accompany him but they flatly refused, they said they would never leave Kashmir as long as they lived. Now they are all by themselves. Khalid and his family are looking after them but I want them here and you are the only person they will listen to”
That was my mission. I was supposed to go to Srinagar and bring back my grandparents with me. There was no choice before me. As a matter of fact, I did not want a choice. I also wanted what my father wanted. I had to relegate Anita to the background for some time but before leaving for Kashmir I wanted to talk to her. I was desperate to know whether she would stay firm in her resolve to marry me and only me. Would she be able to resist the pressures of her parents? That was a question only she could answer. I had to find some way of contacting her, I could find none. Had she come back from Delhi? Maybe she had but even if she had, how would that help me in talking to her? I decided to make a phone call with the hope that lady luck would certainly smile upon me this time. I didn’t want to make a call from home. I went out; there was a telephone booth just outside the colony gate. The person manning it knew me well.
“Lalit, how come you are here, want to make a call, something wrong with the phone at home?” I said yes and dialed Anita’s Chandigarh number. As the phone on the other side started ringing, my heartbeats kept pace with each ring. Finally, someone answered.
“Hello?” My heart skipped a beat or two. Were my ears playing tricks or was it really the voice I was dying to hear?
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