Two Short Novels (21 page)

The next day, when the Indian troops entered Baramula, they found almost half the town razed to the ground. And, as they combed the streets and houses, they entered the Mughal caravanserai and found the body of Maqbool Sherwani tied to a wooden pole in the stables, with the word
‘
Kafir
’
written on the lapel of the shirt . . . . The body looked almost like a scarecrow, but also like that of Yessuh Messih on the cross. As they went through his pockets for a possible diary, they found a wad of papers, which were obviously a letter he had written.

The letter read:

‘My sister, Noor, we shall not see each other again . . . They have brought me here to the stables in the ruined caravanserai and put me in a dark room. And though, at first, the verdict was not given, their faces spoke clearly enough of their intentions. “You are a traitor. And you will be tried and shot.” As they did not say these words in the beginning, I was not quite certain of my fate. But their faces were not human. And their eyes were withdrawn. And they have handled me so roughly that I felt the judgement was clear enough. So I too remained silent and did not ask my questions . . . . What questions can one ask these murderers from Pakistan, who have attacked our country? They consider any one who defends Kashmir to be a traitor. Surprisingly, my old friend, the lawyer Ahmed Shah, who is a real traitor, both to friendship and to our country, is favoured by them. And they have declared Jehad, a holy war, to save us Muslim brethren from the embrace of the Hindus of India. To confer freedom on us by force seems the sheerest folly. Often in human life, stupidity wins and decency is on the losing side . . .

‘I know that you have always thought of me as somewhat of a hero, Noor. Always there was a light in your big eyes which said so. But, today, I want to write and tell you, so that you can tell everyone that I have never been anything but an aspirant to poetry. All my dreams will remain unfulfilled, because I am going to face death. But here, in our country, the most splendid deeds have been done by people, not because they were great in spirit, but because they could not suffer the tyrant’s yoke, and they learnt to obey their consciences. And conscience, howsoever dim, is a great force, and is the real source of poetry. For, from the obedience to one’s conscience, to pity, is but a small step. And pity is poetry and poetry is pity. In our beloved Kashmir today, no one can be human without listening to his conscience, and to the orchestra of feelings without voices which is our landscape. And everyone who listens is being true to our heritage of struggle.

‘When I was in Srinagar the other day and was sitting around, trying to decide what to do, whether to stay in the capital or come back to Baramula, to organise the struggle here, I asked the advice, not of a leader, but of a young Punjabi sitting next to me. He said: “No one can advise you. Because it is important in these times, that a man should consult himself. There are Pakistanis who have come to fight in Kashmir, most of them because they were promised loot, but some of them, consciously, because they want to conquer this country and make it part of their ‘Pure’ State. They, too, these men, are facing the danger of death. And they fight well, at the moment better than we are doing! But that is not heroism. It is just gangster pride. If you choose to go to Baramula, your deed will be heroic, because you will be facing death in the defence of your home, while they are trying to conquer other people’s territory. I know what your choice will be . . .”

‘I am writing this to you, because I could not explain to mother and father why I came back. And as you are young, and always had that light of hope in your eyes when you looked at me, I know you will understand why I made the choice I did make. And, some day, you will be able to explain this to our parents. It is better that they should know this, because I should not like to think that they thought I was just impetuous and foolhardy, and because I would not like them to indulge in vague sentimental feelings, about what might have been if I have not come back. Strange, but this is my philosophy of life — that I love people! . . . And I want father and mother to accept this truth than the lie which their love for me dictates . . .

‘And now I am a little sad that I always refused mother’s advice and did not agree to marry. Because in this she was right. It is foolish not to have children. Life should continue. It should prevail against death. For it is to help life to continue and prevail and flourish in Kashmir that we are suffering and dying . . . I would have been more contented in facing the future, if there had been growing up, in our household, an heir to my poet’s longings and aspirations. If life continues, then death, even sudden death, is as reasonable as birth, or life itself . . .

‘You are the only person to whom I could have written these words. Because you are a young girl with dreams of your own and will soon understand what I am saying. I did not write to father because I know he will say that I exaggerate everything in my “vagabond poet’s manner” and he will not understand that raising everything to the highest pitch may be romantic, but it is necessary when death has raised the value of life. And when you are married and have a child, I want you to remember this and let your offspring bear my name. I think your husband will permit this, because I am sure you will choose an enlightened man to be your companion in life . . . . And your child will grow up and work for our lovely land, and through him or her, my spirit will be working for the new life in our country.

‘There is hardly any light and I cannot write more.’

P.S. ‘I am adding some more words to my previous words. They took me out and tried me. Ahmed Shah demanded my death on the charge that I am a proven traitor. The Pakistani officer is asking his headquarters for confirmation of this sentence. I think the dice is loaded against me on the chess board . . . I am glad that they have warned me about death. But there is very little doubt left now and suspense would have been more terrible than is this certainty. And, with the certainty of death before me, I can renew my faith in life. I shall love life with the last drop of my blood. And I want you to cherish this love of life, because you are young and will understand this love . . . I kiss you tenderly on your forehead and on each of your big black eyes.’




Glossary

Acha

Expression for ‘well! all right’ used in the sub-continent.

Adab arz

Urdu word for salutation or greeting.

Allah-ho-Akbar

God is great.

Allah-Mian

Another respectful name for Allah.

Amla

Hindi for Indian Gooseberry.

Angrezi

English language, and/or anything associated with England.

Angrezi Sarkar

Reference here is to British Government.

Babuji

A respectful title or form of address for a man, especially an educated one.

Bachu

A friendly expression for the person being addressed.

Badshah

King.

Bahin chod

Sister fucker. In the story it is used as an obscenity to

Angrez log

denounce the British.

Bazaar

A market place.

Bhut/Bhoot

Literally, demon, ghost or an evil spirit.

Churel

Witch or a hag.

Dagdar

Distortion of English word ‘Doctor’.

Dur, Dur

To shoo away.

Gentermana

North Indian rural distortion of the word ‘Gentleman’.

Gulley

An alley.

Hai-hai

Alas! Alas!

Han

Yes.

Harami

Bastard.

Hun

A grunt indicating assent.

Izzat

Honour, reputation.

Jinns

Evil spirit capable of appearing in human and animal forms and possess humans.

Kafir

Non-believer.

Kikar

A small tree found mainly in dry regions of the Indian sub-continent also called Babool.

Lalla

A respectful designation especially for a trader or businessman. Also spelt as ‘Lala’.

Lat Sahib

Hindi/Urdu distortion of the English word ‘Lord’.

Mullah

A Muslim learned in Islamic theology and sacred law.

Munshi

A North Indian expression for a clerk usually the one who writes books of accounts.

Ohe

Hey you.

Parathas

A flat, thick piece of unleavened bread fried on a griddle.

Phuphi mai

Paternal aunt (father’s sister).

Pice

The smallest unit of Indian currency till the mid-20
th
century. Pice was a quarter of an anna in value.

Pir

A Muslim saint or a holy man.

Purdah

The practice among women in certain Muslim societies of dressing in all enveloping clothes, in order to stay out of sight of men or strangers.

Railgari

Train

Raj

Rule

Rajah

King

Sahib

A polite form of address for an educated, cultured man.

Salam alaikum

Arabic language greeting in Muslim cultures, meaning ‘Peace be upon you.’

Sale

Literally, wife’s brother. Also an abuse implying that the speaker has slept with the sister of one addressed. Also spelt as ‘saale’.

Sajdah

An Arabic word meaning prostration to God in the direction of Kabba at Mecca.

Sari

A garment consisting of a length of cotton or silk elaborately draped around the body, traditionally worn by women from the Indian sub-continent.

Sarkar

Literally, the government. It also refers to a person in a position of authority, especially one who owns land worked by tenant farmers.

Shalwar/Salwar

A pair of light, loose pleated trousers tapering to a close fit around the ankles, worn by men/women mostly in North India and Pakistan.

Shaitan

Devil.

Suras

A chapter or section of the Koran.

Tehmet

An unstitched length of cloth usually worn knotted at the waist by men in the Indian sub-continent. Also spelt as ‘tehmad’.

Tonga-wallah

‘Wallah’ translated literally means ‘man’ and the prefix tonga (horse carriage) indicates occupation. Tonga-wallah would roughly translate as tonga-man or tonga-driver.

Topee

A hat or a cap.

Vilayat

England

Wa alaykum

Response to
Salam alaikum
(peace be upon you)

as-Salam

meaning ‘And on you be peace!’

Wuzu

The act of cleaning oneself before namaaz.