Part 30
I was thinking and thinking hard but I was not able to see
my way through. There was one part of me which was saying that staying in
Kashmir would be a total waste of time. Even if I did stay, how long would that
be? I could manage to stay for a fortnight or maybe a month but certainly not
beyond that. I had my career to think of and I knew Kashmir would not be able
to offer me a job. In what way would my staying help my grandparents? After the
passage of a month, they would still not agree to leave Kashmir. And then of
course, there was the all important question of Anita. What if I lost her forever
that was a distinct possibility. In our society, girls find it difficult to
ward of the pressures of their parents, no matter how hard they might try to do
so. Anita had said she would resist but had she not agreed to the engagement?
Terrific pressure must have been put upon her; otherwise she was not the one to
meekly give in. If I didn’t go to her in time, how could she resist the
pressure of marriage?
The other part of my mind reminded me of my duty towards the
two people who had played a significant role in my bringing up. It was not
possible for me to abandon them in this manner. My father had specifically told
me that I should use every weapon in my emotional armoury in order to convince
them to say good bye to Kashmir. I had arrived only last night and the events
that had taken place had made me forget this particular directive of my father.
So far, I had not made any effort at all to make them understand the importance
of leaving Kashmir. On the contrary, I was the one who had started thinking in
terms of living in Kashmir. I was told that the situation in Kashmir was terrible;
it was tough for a Pundit family to survive for long. The hostility of the
local population had reached epic proportions. So far, I had not come face to
face with an example of the animosity of Muslims towards Pundits, all I had
seen was love and only love but then I
had been in Kashmir only for 18 or twenty hours, in this short period, how
could I know what the truth was? It was only after being around for some
duration that would help me in getting a grasp over things. That meant
remaining in Kashmir for a week or two.
I had arrived at a decision; I knew what I had to do. The
way I had chosen seemed the only way to me.
“Aren’t you people hungry, do you know what time it is? It
is nearing 1.”Amma was standing at the door. I glanced at my watch; I was
surprised that so much time had elapsed since we had walked into this room. Babuji
had dozed off in his arm chair but he became alert as soon as he heard Amma’s
voice. Bhaisahab was still lost in dream world of his own. Amma’s voice did not
seem to have any effect on either his dreams or on his snoring.
“Get up, Bhaisahab, have you come to this place for sleeping
or spending some time with us?” At this, Bhaisahab’s snoring grew louder. I got
up and shook him awake.
“Uh,uh uh, has the taxi come, where is our luggage?” He was
totally befuddled. It took him some time to find his bearings.
“Amma, what is this? I am starving and you are yet to serve
us lunch, what were you doing?’ Babuji smiled but did not say anything.
“Do you know how long you have been sleeping? Khalid has
already laid the thalis etc, get up and have your lunch” Amma said in a mildly
jovial tone. All of us got up and headed for the living room or the dining room,
call it whatever you may. In Kashmir, at least at that time, we did not have
the concept of a dining room. It was a room which was used as a dining room as
well as the living room. Khalid had spread a new sheet today; I could see that
the colour was different from the one which had been used last night. The
Thalis were immaculately placed and each of us took up our appointed places.
“Amma I hope you have prepared something good for me,
yesterday you thought of only your darling Bittu, hope today you have given
some thought to poor me also”
“Of course, I have made fish for you, your favourite, and I
haven’t added too many chilies.” Fish was my favourite also so Amma had managed
to kill two birds with one stone, very clever of her.
I could hear someone knocking at the door. Khalid heard it
too. During the day, the main gate was not bolted from inside, only the door to
the main house was closed. This had been the practice for as long as I could
remember.
“Babuji, it is Ghulam Hasan” Khalid spoke a little hesitantly,
not sure whether the guest should be asked to sit in the drawing room or asked
to come into the dining room.
“Ask him to come in and lay a plate for him also” This was
another surprise for me. The first surprise had been when I had seen Khalid
working in the Kitchen. Now I was amazed to see that a Muslim would be eating
and sitting by our side. Babuji had always been of a progressive mindset but Amma
had been very particular about keeping Muslims away from the kitchen and away
from the utensils which we used. If a Muslim had to be served anything, there
would be separate utensils for him\her and those utensils would not be allowed
inside the kitchen. This came as pleasant surprise to me. I had never liked
this discrimination; it reminded me of the caste system practiced by the Hindu
society at large. At times I used to think that Kashmiri Pundits treated
Muslims the way upper caste Hindus in India treated the lower castes, it would
really make me feel bad, very bad.
“Oh, ho, look who is here! Amma you must be very happy, your
ladla, your darling Bittuji is here. Do you recognize me, Bittuji?” I sure did. Babuji owned a Fiat car,it was
black in colour and Ghulam Hasan was the driver. He was very faithful and had
become a member of the family. Whenever the car was available, Amma would ask
him to take me for a drive and he would readily agree. I am talking of the time
when I was in class5 or class6. He was also the one who would bring me my lunch
to school. Not many could afford this luxury so my friends would envy me but
all this had been possible because of Amma. Babuji was never in favour of
giving me special treatment but Amma always had her way.
“Of course I do Hasan, I met you five years ago when I came
here last. Don’t you remember you took me and my friends to Gulmarg and
Pehalgam in your taxi?” After Babuji had sold off his vintage Fiat, he did not
buy any other vehicle. Hasan was left without a job but not for long. Later on
he bought a car of his own and started a taxi service. Now he was the owner of
6 taxis, at least, that was the number when I was in Kashmir last. It must have
increased by now. He was wearing an expensive looking shirt and very well
stitched trousers. This was the picture of a man who was completely satisfied
with the way life had treated him.
“I haven’t forgotten anything, even the slap which Lalaji
gave me” My father used to have a very violent temper and once he had slapped
him very hard. I remembered that incident vividly and felt ashamed at my father’s
action. It was to the credit of Ghulam Hasan that he did not react at all,
anyone else in his place would have given my father a piece of his mind and
left the job. Such was the regard this man had for the family.
“Bhaisahabji, are you fine? How is Jammu? Must be very hot?”
Bhaisahab had already started eating and at that time his mouth was full so he
just nodded his head. Babuji asked Hasan to have lunch but he said he had
already had his fill.
“Are you speaking the truth?” Babuji persisted.
“Why should I lie, this is just like my own home”
It was not easy for me to concentrate on my food. The fish
was very tasty but my mind was preoccupied. I had met lots of Muslims since
last night and I had not been able to detect any enmity or hostility .Babuji was
very much at home with the local people and he enjoyed interacting with them.
Amma also seemed to be happy. Taking them away from here would be like taking a
fish out of water and I was not prepared to do that, even if it meant losing my
Anita forever.
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