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.
" 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.
No comments:
Post a Comment