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Authors: AJAY

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BOOK: RESONANCE
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Juhi and Nausheen

Juhi wanted to
talk to Aban on his birthday, but he was not accessible. The phone rang many times, but Aban did not respond. Worried, Juhi rang up Nausheen and asked about Aban. Nausheen told Juhi that Aban was out and would be back the following day and promised Juhi that she would convey her message.

"Is everything all right with Aban?"

"He is fine. He has just become very quiet. Sometimes, it worries me a lot."

The two women talked for a long time before Juhi hung up. Juhi closed her eyes, remembering her mother. She could barely hold back her tears when she was reminded of the day she passed away.

She remembered the precious moments when both of them walked together to the Washington Memorial; her mother selecting and buying the finest clothes and perfumes for Juhi from Macy's, Nordstrom and Barney's. Juhi never parted with a glittering diamond necklace her mother had presented on her sixteenth birthday and she could never forget how she had coaxed Juhi to attend cookery lessons to prepare the birthday meal for the invited guests. How her mother had reminded her, time and again, why a clean home is home to God and reveals the persona of a family. And also how the garbage in the backyard needed to be cleared or else it would attract bad spirits.

Juhi remembered every word her mother said, her silky voice, her kind advice and her words of caution with a compassionate disapproval. Sometimes she chose to keep silent, but even that spoke volumes.The way her mother smiled, the way she looked intently at Juhi and the way Juhi shared funny as well as sad moments with her were all still fresh in Juhi's memory.

Her mother had loved opera and the Boston Ballet. She would cry while watching a tragic scene and burst out into crackling and uninhibited laughter when light moments were played out on stage.

Even when she was ill, fighting the deadly disease, knowing that it had no medical cure, she would always smile and encourage Juhi to see the brighter side of life. She wanted Juhi to see the world with an open mind without judging people's actions and words. She trusted Juhi more than herself in many ways. She always reminded Juhi to take care of her father after she had left, as he would be a lonely man. How fondly she remembered their love and marriage and how she dreamt about the future of her family and the future grandchildren, whom she hoped to cuddle and to tell numerous stories.

It all seemed just like yesterday.

And then Juhi was all alone, staring glassy-eyed at the roof, in a hollow home; humming with no sound at all. With an ache in her heart, Juhi could not share her grief with anyone. Merely listen to the slow thudding of her own heart.

 

 

Penetrate

Aban's uncle recounted his nephew's childhood stories as they walked towards the Hummer. He had fond memories of how little Aban used to throw tantrums to be taken to the nearby market. Aban had taken his
Chacha Jaan
to the same circus fair to board the Ferris wheel no less than twenty times. Even the carousel ducks must have gotten tired due to little Aban's constant hopping on and off on their backs. The candy floss vendor began to wait eagerly everyday for his prized-customer's arrival and sell at least five cotton candies to Aban as long as the circus remained pitched in Rawalpindi.

Nostalgic memories came flooding back. He remembered how he would bring chocolates and candies and watch with satisfaction while Aban would jump and hop around him, trying to grab the gaudy packets from his hands. If his
Ammi
ever suggested that Aban learn the alphabets A, B, C and D from his
Chacha Jaan,
Aban would promptly answer that his
Chacha Jaan
ought to read. Instead, little Aban would run and get his brightly coloured storybook 'Bobby and the little Birdie', and make his Chacha Jaan read it over and over again.

Each day, the little kid wanted a new toy, some more toys, and still some more. If
Ammi
would refuse,
Chacha Jaan
was ever willing to oblige. In a game of hide and seek or a small wrestling fight on the bed,
Chacha Jaan
had to be the loser and his nephew, a triumphant and satisfied soul.

A very sketchy memory of his own childhood at that time was still imprinted somewhere inside Aban's brain too.

"
Chacha Jaan
, let's go to the airport. I'll take the late evening flight to Lahore."

"You cannot go back to Lahore, Aban."

"Why?"

"Do you think Hafiz Saeed is so naïve that he won't call you and ask you about the watch?"

"But you said you never mentioned the watch to him."

"He is much cleverer than we can imagine. He must have seen the video footage when the Al Qaeda's men were tying your father's hands. There was no watch on his wrist."

"Then why did he want me to find out about
Abba
here?"

"To understand this, let me draw a complete picture for you. When I contacted Hafiz after Imran's mishap, he seemed to be least interested in getting your father out of the Swat River. I became even more suspicious when he began to ask probing questions and repeatedly asked me if Imran had told me something extraordinary. Of course, I answered in the negative. Suddenly, I realized that he wanted my cell phone line open to ascertain my exact location. In panic, I hid everything underground and left the place. As soon as I drove for a few miles and reached the bend of the mountain, I turned back to see my homestead. Several armed people had surrounded my hut and were firing indiscriminately. When they did not find anyone inside, they spread out in the area to hunt me down. From that day, I knew I could not visit this place. But I had to come back when your mother called me, asking me to help you. She was also worried about your relationship with the LeT people."

"I have never told her anything about it!"

"I told her about your visit to Hafiz Saeed."

"How did you know?"

"I've obliged many of Hafiz's men. It was their turn to return the favour."

"I understand,
Chacha Jaan
. But I'll still have to go back to Lahore to take care of
Ammi
."

"She has left Lahore."

"Why?"

"Hafiz Saeed is too dangerous. He can go to any extent if he finds out that you have conned him. And he knows very well how much you love your
Ammi
."

"Where did
Ammi
go?"

"Quetta."

"Is she safe there?"

"I told you that I'd carried out relief work for earthquake victims in Quetta. The Mayor of Quetta was impressed with my work. Surely, he can grant a small request of hosting my guests for a few months till we work out some solution as to how you can return to Lahore."

"But Quetta is not a safe place. It's not far off from the stronghold of the Jihadists."

"Don't worry. If you want to hide, take cover right under the enemy's nose, under the constant vigil of their eyes. They will search everywhere except their own backyard. Own a name that rhymes with the name of their
qaum
, their kith and kin, and they will think you are one of them."

"Still I'm not going anywhere,
Chacha Jaan
."

"You are going to India, Aban."

"Why should I go to India and get caught once again by Indian authorities? You know they tortured me while I was in their custody."

Aban's uncle was silent till both reached the vehicle. He revved the engine and steered it to a dusty road. "I know everything, Aban. It was all a ploy of Siddhartha Rana to fool the Jihadists."

"How could you? How did you?"Aban could not believe his ears. When he did not get reply, he asked, "Can I ask you a last question?"

"You are my beloved nephew. I'll answer thousands for you."

"What do you do,
Chacha Jaan
?"

"I have not told anybody what I do; not even Imran, for many years. Everyone thinks that I work for the LeT. Only when your
Abba
visited Nemogram, did I tell him everything about myself. I trust him. And today I'll tell the truth to another person I trust. I work against all forms of Jihad. I've given my life to preach that the principle of universal acceptance underlies Islam. I have not forgotten the true meaning, which says the meaning of life is reparation of the heart and turning it away from all else but God. Most people seem to have forgotten that.

I'm follower of Sufism. I have learnt the true meaning of it and so, whenever necessary I also pick up the gun, especially to fight injustice meted out to anybody. I don't know whether your
Abba
was close to any Jihadist group or not. But I know that he was a true patriot, a man, who loved his country and could die for his motherland. So, I picked my gun to kill those people, who tried to kill such a patriot. You may say that there is a dichotomy in my character, but that's the way it is. I supported Hafiz Saeed when his organization LeT or JuD worked for the charitable purpose of the earthquake victims, but I hated him when he talked about Jihad, where human beings kill one another."

Aban nodded.

"I've still not told you what I do. Let me tell you everything since I don't know what will happen to us hereafter. Pay attention to the present. Listen to the whispers doing the rounds after the Mumbai attack. It's almost six months now. A few Jihadist groups are making a cause of Jihad, but al Qaeda is silent. If they are silent, it simply means something ominous is brewing and it will catch the world unawares. The Americans are worried about this dead silence, and have doubled their efforts to safeguard the Pakistani nuclear bomb. We all know that the al-Qaeda has tried its level best to lure our nuclear scientists to make a bomb for them. But their efforts have failed. So, the best bet for them is to steal these nukes from the Pakistani inventory. They helped the Taliban to capture the Swat valley with only one purpose. That was to take control of the Pakistani nuclear facility in Kahuta, which is less than five-hours from Swat. Had it not been for the timely information of the CIA to the government of Pakistan, al Qaeda would have succeeded in carrying out its grand design. The Americans also advised the Pakistan Army to take control of Swat to hedge against the danger of the Talibani attack on Pakistan's nuclear facilities. To ensure their safety even further, the government of Pakistan relocated the entire inventory of their nukes to different locations in Pakistan. But al Qaeda was a step ahead. They tracked the movement of the specialized SST vehicles, picking up the whereabouts of not only the nuclear material from Kahuta, but also from other hidden tunnels and secret mines at military bases. The CIA believes that al Qaeda must have infiltrated the personnel handling the nuclear assets."

"But what's your role in this grand game?"

"When the CIA briefed the Prime Minister of Pakistan, he asked me to penetrate the al Qaeda and find out what they know."

"So, you work for the Prime Minister of our country."

Chacha Jaan stopped the Hummer near a spring that poured into the Swat River.

The Swat River has flowed right from Rig Vedic time and was then called the
Suvastu,
a tributary of the mighty
Sindhu.
Of the Vedic rivers, the mystical
Saraswati,
Holy
Gauri
and sacred
Sushoma
flowed alongside the
Suvastu
or Swat. Several gurgling streams, glacier-fed stunning lakes, gorgeous waterfalls, thick pine forests, lush green meadows surrounded by lofty alpine mountains with eternal snow on their crests, make this area appear close to paradise. Such is its pristine state. It also holds some of the oldest evidence in the form of human remains and art and artifacts of an ancient culture when man walked the earth here, thousands and thousands of years ago. Sanskrit was the language of the Swati people of yore. Rama spent three years of his exile in a terraced field, Ram Takht, in the valley. Historian tells us that Alexander the Great crossed this river to enter
Bhāratavarsham.
Ashoka the Great built the Butkara Stupa right here. The Scythians, Kushans, the Swati Pakhtuns and Mughals have all had something to do with this valley. Buddhists and Gandharas inhabited the serene lands years ago. Islam in its purest form flourished here. Numerous forms of art, architecture and culture prospered alongside each other. The fruit-laden orchards of these flower-filled mountain slopes have not only charmed human beings, but also enticed beautiful animals. It is home to the musk deer, the grey wolf, the Himalayan ibex and the snow leopard. This otherworldly bounty of nature has been a home to great civilizations, carrying the vibrations of numerous religion and cultures-- a '
heaven on earth'
.

Chacha Jaan spread a bed sheet on the lush green grass, opened a tiffin box and offered his
Mughlaiparatha
to Aban. Aban continued to watch the white waters of the downstream of Swat. His heart ached to think that the same beautiful, impersonal current had swept his father off into some distant realm.

Aban was brought back to time present, when
Chacha Jaan
said, "You may say that. But I only work for my motherland and my people."

 

 

BOOK: RESONANCE
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