Who is she,part 34

Part 34

For some time, there was no answer. The sobbing continued. Babuji and Amma were both looking at me expectantly as well as apprehensively.

“Why are you crying, Anita, what is wrong?” My question seemed to have the desired effect.

“Oh, Lalit, I don’t know what to say, how to tell you that I lied to you the other day. I told you it was my engagement on the 10^th but that is not true. It is my marriage on that day”. The receiver  almost fell from my hands. So that was why Babuji had been using the word marriage again and again.

“How is that possible? Only a couple of days back you told me that your parents were on the lookout for a suitable match, they had not found one as yet so how did all this happen within a matter of just a few days?”

“It did not happen in a matter of days, Lalit. That day also I lied to you”. Her voice was perfectly normal now, so normal that it did not sound like the voice of someone who had been weeping inconsolably only a few seconds ago.  “My marriage was arranged about six months ago, my engagement took place in March,” she continued in an emotionless voice. Her words struck me like a bolt of lightning.

“You don’t really love me, do you? You were simply playing with my emotions, weren’t you?” The shock had disappeared and anger had taken its place. From the corner of my eye I saw Babuji and Amma leaving the room.

“You are right, Lalit. I never really loved you”.

“You betrayed me Anita, you took me for a ride, and you made a fool out of me. Everyone told me you were incapable of loving anyone but I did not believe them. Even your own sister warned me but I thought she was speaking out of jealousy. Oh my god, what a fool I was!”  I was angry but the anger was mixed with despair and hopelessness.

“I cannot marry you. All this may sound strange to you but one day you will come to know the truth and understand why I did what I am doing. Anyway, I don’t have much time now. Tell your Babuji not to do anything foolish because I am getting married willingly. I am not going to tell the police that my parents are forcing me to get married so nothing will come out of your coming here. I hope you understand what I am trying to say. I will see you in Srinagar on the 10^th, wait for me”, the last words were said in an almost inaudible whisper and very fast, one word overlapping the other and then the phone got disconnected.

I stood there with the receiver in my hands staring at the blank wall in front of me. What was the truth? If Anita loved me why did she hide the fact of her engagement from me? If she loved me, why didn’t she tell me that she was going to get married on the tenth? And yet she said she was going to meet me on Srinagar on the day of her marriage! That would be a very daring step on her part but if she was so courageous why did she agree to get married in the first place? So many questions and very few answers! The more I thought about it, the more confused I became.

 Suddenly I realized that the misery of the last few minutes had completely vanished. I almost felt a feeling of delight sweeping through my heart. Her last words had raised my hopes; they had turned my despair into hope. I had always trusted her and I found I still retained my faith in her. Somehow, I knew she was not lying. She had promised me she would never marry anyone else and she was going to keep that promise. I had no idea how she planned to come to Srinagar, I had no idea how she would hoodwink her parents. I had no idea what arrangements she had made for coming to Srinagar. I had no idea how she had planned all this and how it was possible for her to make the arrangements for the journey to Srinagar on her own. I had no idea about anything, yet I believed her. The thought that her father must have forced her to say all this to stop me from creating any nuisance on her marriage did cross my mind. Yes, he must have forced her but those last few words could not have been said under any duress, as a matter of fact, there was no need for her to say those words at all. The very fact that she had said what she did made me feel confident that she would be in Srinagar the day after tomorrow. I put the receiver on the cradle and walked towards the living room with a spring in my gait and a broad smile on my lips.  

“You took a pretty long time, what did she say?”

“Babuji there is going to be no marriage. Your threats scared her father and he decided to cancel the wedding. It was only an engagement and not a marriage. Mr. Suri was lying to you. You know cancelling an engagement is not a big deal, Babuji”, it had become imperative for me to tell lies because Babuji would never have believed that a marriage which was going to take place in two days time could be put off so easily.

“Well, these Punjabis think they are very smart but they don’t know that Kashmiris are far superior to them. He realized I meant every word of what I was saying. I am very happy for you. Now sit down and have breakfast” .There was a look of tremendous achievement on Babuji’s face. Looking at him, one would have thought he had conquered Mount Everest. In a way he had just done that!

I was hungry, very hungry. I pounced upon the rotis that were put before me. I could not help but think of Bhaisahab, he would have behaved in exactly the same way. I don’t know how many rotis I had but I must have had a lot.

“That is enough, Bittuji, don’t forget you have to eat lunch also and I have cooked your favourite dish” Amma said and her words made me realize that I had overstuffed myself otherwise she would never have stopped me from eating more, she was not in the habit of doing that. The more I ate the happier she felt but not this time. I finished my breakfast and got up.

“I am going out for a walk, I will be back soon”.

“Don’t go too far and don’t take too much time” Amma said.

I walked out onto the road and looked around me. The road was almost deserted which was unusual at this time of the day. It was nearing ten and there should have been a lot of people on the road. People going to their offices, people going to the market, people going to meet their friends or relatives or people roaming around without any purpose. That was the scene I remembered but everything seemed to have changed. There was hardly a soul around. I looked at a house in front of me and noticed that all the windows were closed. It looked like a ghost of its former self. It was obvious that the owners must have been part of that exodus which everyone was talking about. I started walking towards the main road. There were huge houses on both sides of the road and they were just that-only houses. All the houses that I saw had been abandoned by their owners. How could one leave one’s home and hearth? But these people had done so. They had not only left their houses but they had also abandoned their homeland, their native place. The words of Sir Walter Scott came to my mind.

“Breathes there the man with soul so dead

Who never to himself hath said

This is my own, my native land?”

I recalled many more words of that famous poem which I had read in my school days. Was Scott talking about these people? Scott had called such people wretches but I was sure his words would not be applicable to these poor Kashmiri Pundits who had been forced out of their homes by a sense of overwhelming fear. Fear could make a man do anything; it could make him go to any extent. Then I thought of Babuji and Amma. What was it that had made them overcome their fears? Had they been afraid at all? From what I had seen and observed, it didn’t seem likely that fear had gripped them at any stage. Did they love their native land more than the people who had been forced to leave their homes? I thought making a comparison was unfair to those who had experienced this fear at first hand. And who was I to pass a judgment? I had myself left my native land and I had done so under absolutely normal circumstances. If these people were guilty then I was guiltier than them.

By now I had reached the main road. This was the road on which all the traffic plied. This was the road which had shops for catering to one’s day to day needs. This was the road where the, meat seller and the barber had their shops. The first thing that caught my attention was a group of army men patrolling the road. They were fully armed. The second thing I noticed was the absence of traffic. There was not a single vehicle on the road. This was very strange and stranger still was the fact that all the shops within my view were closed. I was taken aback by such a gloomy sight. I had never seen Karan Nagar in this ghostly state. I was lost in my thoughts when I heard someone shout.

“Hey, you there, where are you going?” I looked around me, at the direction from where the voice had come. I saw a soldier rushing towards me. He came up to me and caught me by the arm.

“What the hell are you doing here? Aren’t you aware there is a curfew in place?” A curfew? Khalid had gone out in the morning and he had not said anything about any curfew.

“No, I was not aware of it”.

Another soldier came and caught me by the other arm.

“We have never seen you before; you don’t belong to this area. Where are you from?” this was the second soldier speaking.

“I..I..i..a..am …” I had started stammering not because I was afraid but because I was bamboozled by all this. Before I could say anything more, my left cheek was stung to the quick by a resounding slap. It was the first soldier who had slapped me. Not to be left behind, the second soldier slapped me hard on the right cheek. I almost fell down.

“Wait a moment, what have I done, why are you hitting me? Ask me whatever you want to ask me but you have no right to hit me”.

“No right to hit you, we have every right to kill you, you  B…..d, you traitor, you terrorist”.

“Stop stop, he is not a Muslim, he is a Hindu, and he has just come from Delhi to see his grandparents” It was Khalid, my dear old Khalid who had rushed to my rescue.

“Why didn’t you tell us you were a Hindu?”

“What difference does it make whether I am a Hindu or a Muslim?” I was beginning to lose my temper.

“Come Bittuji, let’s go”. Khalid took me by the hand and we started walking towards our house.

“I was standing at the window of my room when I saw these people walking towards you. I ran all the way but I am sorry I could not save you from their cruel hands”. I saw a tear role down his cheek.

“What was the need to say I was a Hindu?” I asked.

“Bittuji you don’t know what goes on here. They beat the hell out of Muslims but they behave decently with the Hindus. There are a lot of things you will come to know by and by” Khalid said, looking very pensive.

This was my second experience of the discrimination indulged in by the army. What had my beloved Kashmir come to? Anita would be coming here in a day’s time. Was this the kind of Kashmir which would welcome her? My mind was fully occupied as I entered my house or was it a prison?