Part 61

I watched as Captain Sehgal walked out of the park. Had he come on foot? I was unable to see any vehicle close by. I kept on looking at him till he went out of sight . Maybe, he had a jeep or some other vehicle parked nearby. Anyway, he had given me a lot to think over. Things were becoming curioser and curioser. I found it difficult to believe what I had just heard. It seemed to be a page out of a Ludlum thriller combined with an Agatha Christie mystery.
 I knew I was getting late, no time to exercise my brain at this stage. It was already 1.15 and people at home must be waiting for me. I got up, took a by lane as I did not want to come across anyone. This was a short cut as well. I was home in five minutes. I saw Babuji sitting in the baithak which meant the call for lunch had not come as yet. There was no one else there. Abdul Sahab must have left long back. I was curious to know what other information he had given Babuji but this was not the right time to ask.
" Where have you been?" Babuji asked, a little anxiously.
 " I thought I would take a walk and have a look at our neighbors. Babuji, every house I saw was deserted. Is there not a single family which stayed back"?
" Unfortunately, no. We are the only ones in this area. Of course there are people who are still here,  but not in our vicinity. I wish they had stayed back but the atmosphere of fear was so strong that we all felt we would be killed. Escape seemed the only way out." Sadness had crept into his voice.
" Weren't you afraid, like the others"?
" I was. So was Amma but we thought, if we have to die, why not die in our homeland? I saw no point in leaving. All others left, but we stayed put."
" Amma is waiting. Lunch has been served." It was the ever faithful Khalid.

Although the words of that captain, [if he was a captain], and the words of Abdul sahab were weighing heavily on my mind, I could not help think what Amma must have cooked for lunch, the glutton that I was. I had forgotten that in the morning itself she had said she would be making monja suen.[mutton mixed with Kohlrabi or gaanth ghobi,]
We sat down, as usual. Amma was already there, waiting for us. The mutton dish was delicious. Amma had outdone herself. Somehow, there was hardly any conversation. Babuji did not say a single word and Amma also kept quiet. She spoke only to ask me whether I liked what she had cooked.  Normally, there was a lot of chatter during our meals but today all were subdued. I wondered why, may be because of what Abdul Sahab had said. I was sure, Babuji must have told Amma everything.
He never kept anything from her. Both my grandparents were worried about me. Look at the irony of it all. I had come to rescue them from this place, that had been my mission, or the mission that had been given to me and here I was, adding trouble after trouble to their lives.

We shifted back to the baithak. Babuji and Amma would normally spend the afternoon in the drawing room itself. It had been an age old habit. Afternoon was the time when a lot of relatives and friends would drop in, that was the Kashmiri practice. I had never seen Babuji lying down or taking a nap in the afternoons. He never left his favourite chair. He was as impeccably dressed for the day as he used to before his retirement. The habit of changing into his night clothes just before dinner, stayed with him all his life,. I really admired him but never tried to follow him. I had been lazy from the beginning and my laziness clung to me like a leech.

" Babuji, what else was Abdul Sahab saying"? I asked, glancing sideways at amma, whose reaction was self explanatory. She knew what I was talking about.
" Nothing much. He didn't have anything else to say apart from what he had already said."
" But do you believe him?  How does he get all this information? I am sure whatever he told us must be highly classified and if the army is planning anything of what he said, they wouldn't go advertising it all around, would they?" I was really curious to know.

" Well, I don't exactly know who his sources are. all I know is that he has contacts in high places. He knows politicians, administrators, police officers etc. I don't know whether he knows anyone in the army. I doubt it,  as army people keep the local Muslims at a distance and don't trust them at all. How he knows what the army is up to , is a mystery to me as well , but he is an honest and trustworthy man. I have no reason to disbelieve him. " Babuji said with great conviction.

I didn't respond. I was thinking of what that Sehgal man had said. If that man was actually from the army, Abdul Sahab's words could well be true.
There were people messing up with my life. They had started doing so soon after I had  landed in Srinagar. Who were these people? Why had they brought Anita into the picture?  Why would the army be interested in me? They had more important things to do. Their most pressing task was to deal with this movement for independence which had gripped the valley.  They knew the sentiments of local population were against them and anti Indian. Why would they waste their time on me? It just didn't make any sense. I was bewildered, confused , almost on the verge of going mad. The captain had said, he would have the answers for me tomorrow. Would he really come again? Was he for real or was he someone out to make a fool of me? Well, I hoped I would get some answers, if not all but I nearly a twenty four hour wait ahead of me. My impatience would make these hours seem like an eternity to me.
I was at a loss. I needed answers and I needed them badly. There were at least three people i could talk to and any one of them might have some answers. Anita, Prakash and Urmila. what I desperately wanted was to talk to one of them, if not all. There was no way i could get in touch with anita or her sister. Prakash was the only one I had hopes of talking to. I decided to ring up Prakash. I got up and walked straight to the telephone.
" Are you planning to call someone"? Babuji asked with a mixture of surprise and amusement.
" Yes, Babuji, an old friend." Before he could say anything more, I started dialing Prakash's Amritsar number.
The phone on the other side started ringing. After a couple of rings, a lady answered.
" Hello, who is it"? I could easily recognise the voice of Prakash's mother.

"Hello, Aunty, it is me, Bittu." I said. To address someone as aunty was almost impossible for me. I was not used to calling anyone auntie or uncle. In Kashmir, we were used to addressing people by their names and if they were elders, we would add Mr. or Mrs. Although,I had lived in Punjab for many years, I had not been able to get used to these form of addresses.
" Oh, hello, Bittu, it has been a long time. where have you been all these days?" she asked lovingly.
"I am in Kashmir with my grandparents. Didn't Prakash tell you?"
"No, he never mentioned it. Moreover, I haven't seen him also for a long time. Didn't you meet him"?
 " The last time I met him was in Amritsar,"
" Does he know you are in Srinagar"?
" He sure does, I had told him I would be here."
There was a moment's silence as if she was thinking what to say.
" That is very surprising. He is also in Kashmir, he should have met you ". She sounded a wee bit worried.
" What is he doing in Kashmir and when did he come here"? I asked.
" He is in the army, you know that and that too in the intelligence wing,  so he doesn't share things with us, he is not supposed to".
 I was dumbfounded. I did not say anything and kept the receiver on the cradle .
Prakash in the army? Military Intelligence? And I had absolutely no idea of it.
 The plot thickened and thickened.

Part 60

I decided to go inside. I peeped into the baithak and saw that Abdul Sahab and Babuji were busy talking. I went to the living room. There was nobody there. Amma was not in the Kitchen also. I glanced at my watch. It was nearing 12. Amma must have prepared lunch and gone up to her room. In the good old times, when the house was full of people and Amma did not have to bother about the kitchen etc, she would go upstairs to her room and take a nap or do whatever she wanted to do. She would come down only when lunch was served. As far as I remembered, she had lived her life like a queen , with domestic help, daughters- in- law and others at her beck and call. Now she was looking after everything . My coming had added to her burdens. It must have been tiring for her, cooking special dishes for me almost everyday. I felt guilty about it all . I told myself that I would tell her to just make one simple dish a day. Babuji was a very frugal eater. I knew he was satisfied with Haakh Batta, i.e. rice and haakh and occasionally a mutton dish. Since I had come, not a single day had passed, without my being treated to sumptuous meals. I would tell her not to do so anymore. Why had I started behaving like a spoiled teenager all over again?  Making unrealistic demands, expecting Babuji and Amma to fulfill all my wishes, the way they used to , when I was much younger, even going to the extent of asking them to get me married to Anita and that too in a surreptitious manner.

 Suddenly, I felt relieved Anita had not come. Babuji and Amma would have done what I wanted them to , but it would have caused them immense pain and trouble as well. What a fool I was! Enough of all this stupidity , enough was enough .
I felt an urge to go out for a walk. Walking would freshen up my mind. Khalid had a room at the back of the house. I went there and told him I was going out and would be back in half an hour. He tried to stop me, telling me it wasn't safe to venture out but I did not listen to him and asked him to inform Babuji, if he asked where I was. We had a small entrance gate at the back also, I went out that way. As soon as I stepped out, I turned left, towards the main road which I could see from the window of my room.
There was hardly anyone on the road. I looked around me, glanced at the big houses on both sides of the road. There was no sign of life. Houses which , once upon a time, not so long ago, used to be bustling with activity, were now as quite as graves. Not a sound from anywhere. People had left their home and hearth , they had left because they felt unsafe, they felt they would be killed. It was clear to me that in this neighborhood, ours was the only house which was still occupied, that too only due to the stubborn determination of my grandparents.
I walked on and reached the main road. I had taken an auto rickshaw from this very road the other day , the day I had gone to meet Anita. That day I was so lost in myself that I had not bothered to look at my old haunts. My mind was still not free, I had a lot to think about but I managed to drive all that away and observe what was going on around me. The presence of the armed forces could not be ignored. They were prowling like tigers looking for their prey. With guns in their hands, they looked menacing. There was no curfew today, so there were a number of people and vehicles on the road. The shops were open, not all but most of them. All the shopkeepers recognised me and greeted me very affectionately. Some hugged me, some talked about my childish pranks, some remarked about how royally babuji and Amma had brought me up. All the shopkeepers were Kashmiri Muslims. Kashmiri Pandits preferred white collar jobs and considered it beneath their dignity to do any kind of business. We had Pandit shopkeepers and businessmen but very few and they were looked down upon with a degree of contempt. I could never understand this attitude of my community.
I felt very happy at the way these old shopkeepers  showered their affection upon me. I could not detect the slightest bit of hatred in them, the hatred which I had been told, they had for us Kashmiri Pandits.  Perhaps, it was this love which gave Amma and Babuji the confidence to stay on in this strife torn place.
I continued walking till I reached another of my childhood haunts. It was a small park , just adjacent to the well known National School. The park was empty, not a single soul to be seen. Another rare sight for me. This park had always been a hub of activity. How things had changed! I entered the park and sat down on one of the benches. It was in a dilapidated condition but safe enough to sit on.
As I was thinking about all the mysteries surrounding me, I did not notice a man coming up and sitting beside me. I almost jumped out of my seat when I heard his voice.
" Hello, Bittu, what are you doing here? I thought you would be too scared to move out of your house after all that has happened?" The man's tone was a friendly one but I did not fail to notice a slight mockery in his words.
" What the hell? Who are you and how do you know my name?" I asked angrily.
Relax, man, I come as a friend. Why do you see only enemies around you?"
" I have never seen you before, I don't know you from Adam. How can you be my friend?"
"Right, you don't know me but I know a lot about you. You will be surprised how much I know" He said with a smile lurking on his lips. He was a young man in his late twenties. He was very good looking , one could call him handsome. He was wearing a sky blue shirt and black trousers, very formally dressed, indeed. Could he be from the army? That was a very distinct possibility. He had followed me here. He must have been watching the house, otherwise how did he know I was in the park? Abdul Sahab had told me that the army was bent upon creating problems for me. Was this man a part of that trouble?
"And what do you know about me ,Mr. er,, I didn't catch your name, what did you say your name was?"
" I didn't tell you my name. I am  Atul, Atul Sehgal." He extended his hand, I also did the same and we shook hands.
"Are you in the army?' I asked, somewhat rudely.
"Ha Ha Ha Ha",  his loud guffaw echoed in the whole park. " All you can think of is the army, why can't you get the army off your mind?"
" How can I? You people, I mean the army people, have been creating hurdles in  my way, right since the day I came here. Don't you think it's only natural for me to think of the army as my enemy"?
" I can understand your feelings. I accept you have been treated roughly but we don't mean any harm, none at all". He said, his words taking somber tone.
" So, you admit you are from the army and you have been following me?"
" Yes, I admit it. I am a captain in the army, I didn't want to keep it a secret from you, just felt like having a little bit of fun, sorry for that" His apology sounded sincere.
" Now, what do you want from me, Captain Atul? Your people have beaten me up, your people have tortured our domestic help, your people have misbehaved with my grandfather and you people are interfering in my personal life, what else do you want now?" I couldn't restrain myself, my anger was  getting the better of me. Prudence told me to talk to this man politely, I had been warned that the army in Kashmir were capable of doing anything and  had personally experienced their highhandedness, yet I was unable to hold myself back.
" Calm down, Bittu, I mean no harm, we mean no harm. Yes, I agree, we have been a bit over dramatic about all this but that was also necessary. "
" Why was all this needed at all? Why the hell did you prevent me from meeting Anita? What was your motive in all this?" My voice was still high pitched.
" Look Bittu, it's time for you to know certain truths, truths which have been hidden from you. But we feel we should tell you what the facts are so that you don't misunderstand us" He said these words very calmly but seriously. He looked at his watch and suddenly got up.
" It's already past one, your parents will get worried about you. Go home now, don't tell anyone about this meeting. I shall meet you tomorrow at noon, here, at the same place and then I will tell you why we have been doing all this". With these words, he turned around and walked towards the exit. My anger had been replaced by curiosity and the desire to know the truth. I also got up and started rushing towards my home, knowing fully well that my folks must be worried by now. 

Part 59

No matter how authentic Abdul Sahab's sources might be, all this seemed absolutely ridiculous to me. Why on earth would Mr. Suri go to such lengths to  torture me? He wanted letters and pictures back. He wanted them because he thought I would use them against his daughter. I could understand his apprehension. It was obvious he did not trust me, he had no reason to. But he knew I was in Kashmir. He knew there was precious little I could do from here, even if I had wanted to. He had met my parents and given them a warning. Now what was the point in using his army contacts for such a trivial job? The army was in Kashmir for different reasons, not for preventing lovers from getting married. I could see Babuji was slightly taken aback by this piece of information,  but I didn't see any trace of fear on his tranquil face.  I was also not scared at all.
" So Abdul, what should we do, if the army people come in search of Bittu?" Babuji asked in a very calm manner.
" I think he should go back to Amritsar. He will be safe there. The army has a free hand here, they can go to any extent,  so why take a risk?" Abdul Sahab did not sound calm at all. He was definitely concerned.
"I am not going anywhere", I almost shouted. " I have already told you, I am not leaving this place without Babuji and Amma. If they stay here, I also stay here and let there be no argument about it.
"
" Bittuji, you are being foolish and stupid, in fact both.", Babuji said but not in anger." What do you think you will do here? You have already seen for yourself that we are living very comfortably, no harm is going to come to us. We have very good neighbors, they all take very good care of us. And look at Abdul, he is there for us , always."
" Moreover," Babuji continued, " You have to think about your future. You have a career to make. Believe me, there is no job for you here. Career opportunities out here are almost non existent. Remember, if you don't have a good job, who will marry you? I am sure one of the main reasons for Anita's parents rejecting you is your not having a job. And no matter how much this Anita girl loves you, if she loves you at all, she is not going to marry a jobless young man like you. So go back, take that job offer you already have and move on."
" I am not going anywhere and that is that. " I said, getting  up and leaving  the room in a huff .
I thought of going up to my room but seeing how pleasantly sunny the weather was, I decided to go and sit in the front lawn.
I was very surprised at myself. Surprised that all these days I had been here, I had not even bothered to look at the lawn, the lawn which had been one of my favourite places since my childhood. I recalled the wonderful moments I had spent here, playing with my brother, my cousins, my friends, the numerous scoldings we used to receive from my uncles and Babuji for spoiling the grass and the time I used to spend reading a book, sitting in one of those comfortable lawn chairs. Anita had possessed me in such a manner that I had forgotten the existence of this lawn. I looked around, the grass was green,  well mowed. It seemed Khalid took good care of it.  The chairs were exactly where they used to be,  although in not so good a condition.
I walked up to a chair and sat down. I looked up at the clear blue sky , such crystal blue sky was a luxury in Amritsar. I looked around me. The old garage still stood there and also the store next to it. I had not asked Babuji whether he had sold the car or if it was still there. When I was in my early years in school, we had a black coloured Fiat. Later on, Babuji bought an Ambassador. Babuji used to have a driver, named Ghulam Rasool, who  was a very affectionate human being, quite attached to all of us. I wondered where he was now. I really wanted to meet him. Oh, those days, those great days, how smooth and enjoyable my life used to be! Why did I leave Kashmir? Why didn't I stay on with my grandparents? Suddenly it dawned upon me that I had been selfish at that time also. Babuji and Amma wanted me to continue living with them but I had got it into my mulish mind that I wanted to stay with my real parents, Lalaji and Bahuji.  I knew my grandparents had been hurt at my decision but they did not stop me. In this manner , my sojourn in my beloved Kashmir ended.
I loved Kashmir, always had. I was reminded of the lines from one one of my favourite poems-
'Breathed there the man with soul so dead
Who never to himself had said,
This is my own, my native land.."
Yes, Kashmir was my birthplace, my native land. Had my soul really been dead that I had decided to leave it and its people? And mind you, I am talking of the time when Kashmir and Kashmiris weren't even aware of what violence was. We had roses,  but we had no guns. I was pained to the core , so much so that I almost forgot about my immediate problems.
" Bittuji, will you have Sheer Chai? Amma is making it for Abdul Sahab and I know you also love it".
These words brought me back to the present.
" Yes, Khalid, why not?"
Sheer Chai was salt tea in which the tea leaves used were different from the ones used in Kahwa. Milk was also added to it. We called it Sheer Chai, Muslims called it Noon Chai, Noon meant salt.
Now that my reverie had been broken, my mind was once again caught in the web of love, hate and deceit which seemed to have surrounded me.
Coming to Kashmir had made me forget some very important events which had taken place earlier. How had it slipped my mind that even before coming to Srinagar, I had known about Anita's engagement? I recalled that hurried visit to Chandigarh, that meeting with Urmila over lunch where she had told me that Anita's engagement had taken place with a Delhi boy. She had said, Anita was just leading me down the garden path, that she did not love me. When I refused to believe her, she said she knew her sister better than I did. I had not believed her because I always thought she was jealous of Anita. Urmila had made no bones about the fact that she was in love with me. All this had made her intentions malicious in my opinion. Maybe, she had been telling the truth.
After the meeting with Urmila, I had never met Anita. I had tried to contact her but she had avoided me. When I came to Srinagar, it was already known to me that Anita would be getting married soon. I knew I had lost her. I had been angry with her for not standing up to her parents but I recalled Babuji"s words. He was right. How could her parents have agreed to marry her off to a pauper like me, a man without a job? Anita had once told me she would like me to join the Civil services. She wanted me to prepare for the I.A.S. How come, I had forgotten all this?  She was ambitious, wasn't she?
Then I thought about the phone call. She had told me she was ready to run away from home, ready to come to Kashmir to marry me. She gave me her plans, the date, the flight number etc. I was so overwhelmed by her words that I had forgotten the earlier events. A girl who had decided to marry according to her parents' wishes, a girl who had made up her mind to betray her boyfriend of over six years, had suddenly  decided to take a gigantic step against the wishes of her parents. How did this metamorphosis take place?
 Bittuji, here is your Noon Chai and telwar." Khalid put the cup on a small stool in front of my chair and left. [Telwar can be called a Kashmiri variety of a bagel].
 As I started sipping tea, my mind continued working, uninterrupted. I thought about the phone call. Mr. Suri"s anger, his exchange of hot words with Babuji. What reason did Suri have to be angry with Babuji or me? As a matter of fact, why was he scared of me? How did he expect me to create problems in the marriage while sitting far away in Srinagar? A doubt started creeping into my mind. Was the man on the phone really Anita's father?
The moment this doubt crept in, another one followed. Did I talk to Anita? Was it actually Anita on the other side of the phone? She had talked in husky whispers. It may not have been Anita at all.
Who was she then? Who had come to Srinagar? Why had the army held me prisoner?  Why this new threat that Abdul Sahab had talked about? Why had Anita asked me to come to Chandigarh? The same day, her father had threatened Lalaji and Bahuji. He had  done the same thing earlier also then why again? Question after question kept flooding my mind, questions to which I needed answers. As I took my last sip of tea, it occurred to me that it was all wrong. Something very serious was taking place. Conspiracy theories started cropping up in my mind. I was sure there was a conspiracy being hatched to drive me away from Srinagar. Who would want me to leave Kashmir? I had to find the perpetrator or perpetrators of this conspiracy, if there were any.