On hearing what the receptionist said, I turned absolutely pale. I was stunned. I was shocked. My mind went totally blank. I gripped the edges of the counter so hard that my fingers started hurting but my mind had become too numb to notice the physical pain.
" Are you alright sir, is anything wrong, should I get you a glass of water?" There was concern in his voice.
" Oh, everything is fine, don't worry' I replied,getting hold of myself. I had no intention of looking like a fool. I gathered my thoughts together and tried to get my mind working again.
" I need your help,eh I didn't get your name, what did you say your name was?" I was trying to be as polite as I could.
" I am Feroz, sir. How can I be of any help to you, sir?"
" Well, Mr. Feroz, I just need some answers to a few questions, I hope you won't mind my asking?"
" Whatever I can do to help, sir. If I have the answers to your questions, I shall certainly answer them. Anything for a fellow Kashmiri,sir" He was being very polite. It was obvious he understood that I had been greatly shaken by the news of his guests having gone to the airport and it seemed, at least to me, that he genuinely wanted to help.
" Were you on duty the whole day yesterday?"
" Yes, sir, I am on duty on all week days from 8 in the morning to 5 in the evening" He answered, giving me a close look, wondering why I was asking all this.
" Is it possible for you to tell me what time they checked in day before yesterday?" I had started acting like a detective. I couldn't help thinking it was the Hercule Poirot effect upon me, after all I was a great fan of his.
" Not day before yesterday,sir, they checked in three days ago" Another bolt from the blue for me.
" No, that's not possible, Feroz Sahab, they arrived in Srinagar only day before yesterday, how could they have checked in three days ago? Please check your guest register", I almost pleaded .
" No need for me to do that ,sir. We hardly have any guests checking in these days. As a matter of fact, Mr. and Mrs. Prakash were our only guests in the past two weeks so how can I forget?"
" Mr. and Mrs.?', I asked, totally stupefied. " Did they check in as husband and wife?" I had suddenly started feeling dizzy.
" Of course, sir. And they seemed to be newly married considering the way the lady was dressed"
" What do you mean ? How was she dressed?" His answers were too much for me to handle.
" Oh, well, sir, you know how Punjabi women dress when they have just been married, bright colours, make up and all. In the good old days, we had lots of newly married couples staying with us, Kashmir was a favourite honeymoon destination, wasn't it?"
I couldn't argue with that, it was the truth. But Anita's being dressed in colourful clothes or their checking in as husband and wife, didn't mean they were actually married. It was safe for them to check in as a married couple to avoid uncomfortable questions. What disturbed me was that they had reached Srinagar a day earlier than the day Anita had told me. Why this subterfuge? Why lie to me? Why ask me to come to the airport at all? It was then that I realised why I had not been able to meet Anita at the airport. All this was beyond my comprehension, I felt I was going mad. But the detective in me refused to rest in peace.
" Did they stay in the same room"? What a foolish question to ask!
" Of course, they did, sir, they were a married couple" He gave me another strange look.
" I know I am taking a lot of your time, Mr. Feroz but just a couple of more questions, if you don't mind?"
" I don't mind at all ,sir, go ahead and ask me as many questions as you want. Anything for a fellow Kashmiri, sir" His eyes were twinkling , it was clear that he was finding all this very entertaining.
" During their stay here, did they go out anywhere?"
" No, sir, they didn't but that was natural , considering the situation. They stayed inside all the time. and they ordered meals from room service, never came down to the restaurant"
" Did anyone come to meet them ?"
" A couple of Indian Army officers did come to meet them, sir, they went straight up to their room"
' You have been a great help, Mr. Feroz. Just one last question. Were their tickets for Delhi booked from the hotel?"
' Not at all, sir. They had return tickets. They told me so when they checked in"
It was becoming too much for me now. All kinds of thoughts were going through my mind, my mind was full of questions, the answers to which I could not get from Feroz. I asked for a glass of water, thanked him profusely and walked out of the hotel.
I reached Bouleward Road. I saw the waters of the Dal Lake and the hills in the background but I was unable to see the beauty of it all. A storm was brewing in my heart and mind , I didn't know what to do and where to go. It seemed I had been buried under an avalanche and that's where I would stay. I crossed over to the parapet and sat down , facing the road and not the lake.
The road was almost deserted. This was the same road which used to be full of people, locals and tourists alike but at that time both were conspicuous by their absence. There were a few people wandering around but just a few. A lot of security forces were moving around with guns in their hands. The road seemed to have turned from a tourist paradise into a local warzone. I noticed all this but didn't have the energy or the will to think of why all this had happened. My thoughts were with Anita and Prakash.
Why had Anita given me the wrong date of arrival in Srinagar? Why did she have to do that? Why and how had Prakash managed to accompany Anita? I could understand their checking in as husband and wife but why did they have to share the same room? The very thought of Anita having spent three nights with Prakash drove me mad.Maybe it was a compulsion. Having checked in as a married couple, they had no other choice but to stay in the same room. Prakash was my best friend and Anita was my beloved, how could I suspect them of having betrayed me? and yet, I was plagued by doubts. There were some other things which baffled me. Why did Prakash lie to Babuji, why did he tell him that I was with them when, in fact, I had been detained by the army? Last but not the least was the question - why come to Srinagar at all if they had no intention of meeting me, why book return tickets when Anita had no plans of going back? It was mystifying and it shattered whatever little peace of mind I had. I happened to glance at my watch. It was well past 1. Babuji and Amma would be waiting for me.
I had told them I would be bringing Anita home. I was sure Amma must have prepared delectable Kashmiri cuisine for her darling Bittuji's wife to be. They must be waiting for me and here I was, sitting by the banks of the Dal and drowning in my own misery.
It was time to go back. I got up and started a slow walk towards Dal Gate. I knew I would manage to get a some means of transport from there. I trudged along, head bowed, totally unaware of what was going on around me. Now the paramount thought in my mind was what reason I would give for not having Anita with me. Tell my grandparents, who doted on me, who were prepared to to go any distance to see me happy, another lie after the one I had told them the previous day. Why, oh why, did I find myself in such a predicament? It was my fault. In my obsession for Anita, I had forgotten the basic purpose of my coming to Srinagar. My passion had blinded me to the real reason I had stayed back after Bhaisahab had gone back. I was supposed to look after my grandparents, I was supposed to slowly persuade them to leave Srinagar. Instead, I had burdened them with my problems and expected them to help me in getting married to Anita. How selfish love had made me!
I reached Dal Gate and saw some activity , there were vehicles moving, people shopping and for a moment I thought I was in my old paradise but then my eyes fell on a heavily armed army bunker and I was brought back to the harsh reality of present day Kashmir. But at that time, the problems of Kashmir had taken a backstage and all I could think of was Anita.
I had thought I might find it difficult to get an auto rickshaw but luckily I found one immediately. I hopped in and we started moving towards Karan Nagar. I didn't start a conversation with the driver. I was in no mood to. I did not look at my surroundings. I sat quietly , completely immersed in my own problems.
" Here you are , jenab. This is Magazine House." The driver said, stopping exactly at the gate of my house. I paid him and got off.
I opened the gate, not knowing what I would tell them once I was inside, I knew I would have to face a barrage of questions, particularly from Babuji and I had no answers whatsoever.
" Are you alright sir, is anything wrong, should I get you a glass of water?" There was concern in his voice.
" Oh, everything is fine, don't worry' I replied,getting hold of myself. I had no intention of looking like a fool. I gathered my thoughts together and tried to get my mind working again.
" I need your help,eh I didn't get your name, what did you say your name was?" I was trying to be as polite as I could.
" I am Feroz, sir. How can I be of any help to you, sir?"
" Well, Mr. Feroz, I just need some answers to a few questions, I hope you won't mind my asking?"
" Whatever I can do to help, sir. If I have the answers to your questions, I shall certainly answer them. Anything for a fellow Kashmiri,sir" He was being very polite. It was obvious he understood that I had been greatly shaken by the news of his guests having gone to the airport and it seemed, at least to me, that he genuinely wanted to help.
" Were you on duty the whole day yesterday?"
" Yes, sir, I am on duty on all week days from 8 in the morning to 5 in the evening" He answered, giving me a close look, wondering why I was asking all this.
" Is it possible for you to tell me what time they checked in day before yesterday?" I had started acting like a detective. I couldn't help thinking it was the Hercule Poirot effect upon me, after all I was a great fan of his.
" Not day before yesterday,sir, they checked in three days ago" Another bolt from the blue for me.
" No, that's not possible, Feroz Sahab, they arrived in Srinagar only day before yesterday, how could they have checked in three days ago? Please check your guest register", I almost pleaded .
" No need for me to do that ,sir. We hardly have any guests checking in these days. As a matter of fact, Mr. and Mrs. Prakash were our only guests in the past two weeks so how can I forget?"
" Mr. and Mrs.?', I asked, totally stupefied. " Did they check in as husband and wife?" I had suddenly started feeling dizzy.
" Of course, sir. And they seemed to be newly married considering the way the lady was dressed"
" What do you mean ? How was she dressed?" His answers were too much for me to handle.
" Oh, well, sir, you know how Punjabi women dress when they have just been married, bright colours, make up and all. In the good old days, we had lots of newly married couples staying with us, Kashmir was a favourite honeymoon destination, wasn't it?"
I couldn't argue with that, it was the truth. But Anita's being dressed in colourful clothes or their checking in as husband and wife, didn't mean they were actually married. It was safe for them to check in as a married couple to avoid uncomfortable questions. What disturbed me was that they had reached Srinagar a day earlier than the day Anita had told me. Why this subterfuge? Why lie to me? Why ask me to come to the airport at all? It was then that I realised why I had not been able to meet Anita at the airport. All this was beyond my comprehension, I felt I was going mad. But the detective in me refused to rest in peace.
" Did they stay in the same room"? What a foolish question to ask!
" Of course, they did, sir, they were a married couple" He gave me another strange look.
" I know I am taking a lot of your time, Mr. Feroz but just a couple of more questions, if you don't mind?"
" I don't mind at all ,sir, go ahead and ask me as many questions as you want. Anything for a fellow Kashmiri, sir" His eyes were twinkling , it was clear that he was finding all this very entertaining.
" During their stay here, did they go out anywhere?"
" No, sir, they didn't but that was natural , considering the situation. They stayed inside all the time. and they ordered meals from room service, never came down to the restaurant"
" Did anyone come to meet them ?"
" A couple of Indian Army officers did come to meet them, sir, they went straight up to their room"
' You have been a great help, Mr. Feroz. Just one last question. Were their tickets for Delhi booked from the hotel?"
' Not at all, sir. They had return tickets. They told me so when they checked in"
It was becoming too much for me now. All kinds of thoughts were going through my mind, my mind was full of questions, the answers to which I could not get from Feroz. I asked for a glass of water, thanked him profusely and walked out of the hotel.
I reached Bouleward Road. I saw the waters of the Dal Lake and the hills in the background but I was unable to see the beauty of it all. A storm was brewing in my heart and mind , I didn't know what to do and where to go. It seemed I had been buried under an avalanche and that's where I would stay. I crossed over to the parapet and sat down , facing the road and not the lake.
The road was almost deserted. This was the same road which used to be full of people, locals and tourists alike but at that time both were conspicuous by their absence. There were a few people wandering around but just a few. A lot of security forces were moving around with guns in their hands. The road seemed to have turned from a tourist paradise into a local warzone. I noticed all this but didn't have the energy or the will to think of why all this had happened. My thoughts were with Anita and Prakash.
Why had Anita given me the wrong date of arrival in Srinagar? Why did she have to do that? Why and how had Prakash managed to accompany Anita? I could understand their checking in as husband and wife but why did they have to share the same room? The very thought of Anita having spent three nights with Prakash drove me mad.Maybe it was a compulsion. Having checked in as a married couple, they had no other choice but to stay in the same room. Prakash was my best friend and Anita was my beloved, how could I suspect them of having betrayed me? and yet, I was plagued by doubts. There were some other things which baffled me. Why did Prakash lie to Babuji, why did he tell him that I was with them when, in fact, I had been detained by the army? Last but not the least was the question - why come to Srinagar at all if they had no intention of meeting me, why book return tickets when Anita had no plans of going back? It was mystifying and it shattered whatever little peace of mind I had. I happened to glance at my watch. It was well past 1. Babuji and Amma would be waiting for me.
I had told them I would be bringing Anita home. I was sure Amma must have prepared delectable Kashmiri cuisine for her darling Bittuji's wife to be. They must be waiting for me and here I was, sitting by the banks of the Dal and drowning in my own misery.
It was time to go back. I got up and started a slow walk towards Dal Gate. I knew I would manage to get a some means of transport from there. I trudged along, head bowed, totally unaware of what was going on around me. Now the paramount thought in my mind was what reason I would give for not having Anita with me. Tell my grandparents, who doted on me, who were prepared to to go any distance to see me happy, another lie after the one I had told them the previous day. Why, oh why, did I find myself in such a predicament? It was my fault. In my obsession for Anita, I had forgotten the basic purpose of my coming to Srinagar. My passion had blinded me to the real reason I had stayed back after Bhaisahab had gone back. I was supposed to look after my grandparents, I was supposed to slowly persuade them to leave Srinagar. Instead, I had burdened them with my problems and expected them to help me in getting married to Anita. How selfish love had made me!
I reached Dal Gate and saw some activity , there were vehicles moving, people shopping and for a moment I thought I was in my old paradise but then my eyes fell on a heavily armed army bunker and I was brought back to the harsh reality of present day Kashmir. But at that time, the problems of Kashmir had taken a backstage and all I could think of was Anita.
I had thought I might find it difficult to get an auto rickshaw but luckily I found one immediately. I hopped in and we started moving towards Karan Nagar. I didn't start a conversation with the driver. I was in no mood to. I did not look at my surroundings. I sat quietly , completely immersed in my own problems.
" Here you are , jenab. This is Magazine House." The driver said, stopping exactly at the gate of my house. I paid him and got off.
I opened the gate, not knowing what I would tell them once I was inside, I knew I would have to face a barrage of questions, particularly from Babuji and I had no answers whatsoever.
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