the riparian neighbours
DESCRIPTION
NOVEL Based on Indian sub-continentTRANSCRIPT
The Riparian Neighbours1
The Riparian Neighbours
by Syed Kamran Razvi
© Author, 2008, New Delhi India.
Email: [email protected]
The Riparian Neighbours2
DEDICATED:
Dedicated to those who never got the chance to return or choice
to be buried where they were born because of riparian dispute
between neighbours.
November 30, 2008.
The Riparian Neighbours3
THE RIPARIAN NEIGHBOURS
by Syed Kamran Razvi
It was late morning arrival to the notes of Gurbani, that the Tata-Amritsar
Express came to a gradual halt at its final destination, Amritsar city. The
passengers unlike the train compartments were still sleepy, specially the
children. The pleasant breeze blowing across the railway platform, which had
no shelter, was a contrast to the dusty and nauseating Delhi. The passengers
though had still to travel and cross the border in the northwestern sector of
India's neighbourhood. It was not a trail of refugees, which has for long been
obvious at the platform several times in the short span of decades of
upheavals. The journey in perspective retained the sorrow despite the time
lapse. The annals of history remains a puzzle for the forlone border of land of
five rivers, Punjab. Perhaps it drew immunity to unparallel animosity between
settlors and outsiders as an entrepot to sub-continent riches. However, in the
past few decades, it has been notorious for the inward circulation of those who
were all permanent settlors. The cycle was repeated with equal indiffirence
each time and occasion.
The trans-national border was the nomenclature by which it was now
baptized. Indeed it was marked by the scarred memories of bloodbath relived
by many old and middle-aged passengers, on each journey. The horror, the
telltale was like a demon’s grip yet to be exorcised.
In the month of spring a little before long summer vacations. Young
Ahmed about 12 years, Li'l Saif half of Ahmed ‘s age, their eldest sister
Bilqis, older by two years to Ahmed, were to spend the summer-vacations
meeting their cousins across the borders, ever since their birth.
The Riparian Neighbours4
They were travelling with their mother who was a free-lance writer-
journalist, Usamah. All their real maternal and paternal uncles, aunts migrated
to the new state of Pakistan. soon after its inception, one after another. They
left to seek earnings, which were so lost as their status and property, to the
diktats of newly established order of governance. None though visualisd the
perils of migration, for long they have been settled now.
“The terra ferma, the colourless aqua, the lush vegetation, all was
theirs for centuries, it was all in the family shijara(lineage).”
Although, the compulsion to migrate for many being inevitable. The times
stood frozen and enslaved by the sad realities of the artifical borders.
A frail voice with tears once wrote:1
Dastak dene walei bhi thhei,
Dastak sunnei walei bhi thhei,
Is ek viran basti mein
Kai ek makan apnei bhi thei….
The translation reads :
“there were those who knocked at the doors,
so lived those who would welcome,
Now what appears deserted,
Was once lined by our homes ….”
By now both the passengers and the platform were awake to
the post-dawn shade of the morning. The currency-exchanger counter also
opened, some queued earlier. Although a counter existed at Delhi platform but
the rate of exchange was favourable here, by about fifteen paise. Thus the rate
of exchange would vary by just a distance of 500 Kms. Both politics and
1 Translation of Urdu couplet by Jaun Ilya, a migrant poet.
The Riparian Neighbours5
economics ran together in complimentary fashion. Such being the affairs
between the Riparian neighbours.
There was the usual rush of travellers to the kiosks to purchase
merchandise like cocunut, pineapple, Betel leaves, all as gifts for their
relatives. Ahmed's family was no exception so they also purchased the “gifts”.
These “gifts” were the commodities, which were once so integral part of their
(migrants) dietary preferences and taste.
The railway-station gradually began to receive the passengers from the
other trains, taking passengers further upwards in Northern direction towards
Jammu and to other destinations down Southwards."Children"!, their mother
called, come let's have break-fast. There were no proper eatries at the
platform, so the family decided to go to decent restaurant next to the railway
station. "Ahmed you watch the luggage, we have our breakfast, thereafter you
go", said his mother. The platform was the segregated one, where only the
Pakistan-bound passengers were waiting, for the arrival of the train that would
carry them to the last border point of Atari, the point of land customs under
Indian jurisdiction. There were some others who preferred to cross the border
via road, which was Wagah check-post. In fact the.family who travelled
alongwith the Khan's from Delhi, opted for road link and bid good-bye to each
other. It was bit convenient to travel by road. "O'dear son is your mother
around" asked a tall gentle-man of atheletic-built. "Yes she is also here, but
why do you ask?", Ahmed with indifference. He surveyed him head to toe.
This stranger , a fair complexioned man was wearing a white shirt with blue
trousers, and sandals. The winter chill was no longer an affair in April, some
claimed climatactic change. "Aha ! Adab arz2" Surender sahib", Ahmed's
mother wished from behind. Bilqis and Saif were a step behind to her holding
a flask and some packets. " Adab Arz, madam", Surender wished back his
2 Urdu for Greetings, spokes while gently raising right hand upto forehead with little bend.
The Riparian Neighbours6
superior's wife. "Madam!, Sir, has asked me to meet you all, as he was
worried about you people. He also wanted me to tell you that he has been
given assignment further-up in Ladakh region to work on the National
Highway project" Surinder said in a polite tone in a courteous manner. He
smiled very little. "Oh, but he promised to meet us here", spoke disappointed
Bilqis. Her fists closed, bearing expression of agitation, her pink complexion
grew rosier. A little sentimental and somewhat possessive also. Possessive of
her family members, though a caring sister and a loving daughter. Their father
Saghir Khan was a civil engineer much dedicated to his work and family. His
professional capabilities made him popular with the establishment, this kept
him busy and away from family. Saghir was expert in Road building and Dam
constructions in mountainous terrain with international accredition. Such
qualified men were scarce in the government and outside. Such widely
appreciated was his work, with offers around the globe to work for their firms.
But he couldn’t be tantalised for his simple motto, “Brain drain is what kills
the wealth of a nation”. The deep wedge between North and South gave birth
to many idealistic viewpoints.
"Are you on a holiday, and how is your wife, she must be angry with
Mr.Khan, for holding you to the work", Usamah remarked jovially. "Oh no
madam not at all", Surinder blushed. “ hahaha...!”. "Madam my wife is eager
to meet you all but some guests arrived this morning so she asked me to
apologise on her behalf and invites you, to our place on your return journey."
Surinder, as he picked-up Saif into his arms. "Ahmed you can go along with
your sister, and have something to eat." Usamah said to her son Ahmed. "Oh
you haven't had it so far", asked Surinder, with an expression of concern.
Come I will take you there, the train I believe should be here around 10:00, in
say about an hour or so," looking at his watch., "...yes I think so, the last time
The Riparian Neighbours7
when I went the customs point was at Amritsar only."Usamah. "That must be
many years ago, Madam if my memory serves me right".
And then the train arrived, it was bit early that day, so no scramble for
seats. Surinder purchased the ticket uptil Lahore for the family. They thanked
their unexpected pleasant host. Just as the family was about to bid farewell,
somebody intervened.
"Namaste Sir", Surinder nodded and smiled. The man wearing the
Railway T.T. uniform introduced himself as Prakash Hudda. " Sir, I am going
with this train till Atari thereafter I will tell my counter-part to take care of
your guests. Surinder was one of the few high-ranking Civil servants well
recognized for their achievements especially after the recent floods
devastating the entire northern India. "This is Mrs.Saghir ", Surinder. Oh !,
what a…. pleasure !, Madam Saghir sahib is a hero of farmers over here.",said
Prakash. Prakash then hurriedly looked at his watch assuring to them to meet
at the Atari. The guard at the end waved as the train got the signal for clear
passage.The Engine honked and honked and with a gentle pull the giant snake
moved on its belly. " Wish you a safe journey,… children do not forget to
visit us on your return.I shall take you around the city and nearby picnic
spots."
Ahmed tried to peep-out from the window but the newly installed
grills would prevent him from doing so, as part of recent safety measures
introduced by the railways following many unfortunate accidents. Meanwhile
the train had gained a little speed but the snake ladders were a complex puzzle
to be solved at the busy junction as Amritsar.The olive-green wagons bearing
fire insignia and warning of "inflammable". crossed the red of the passenger
wagons.
Their coach was practically empty, that day in fact they were lucky to
have it for usually the railways never preferred to have the coach, for its own
The Riparian Neighbours8
reasons. Soon it was the green of fields, women labourers, a lone rail-track
and a whistling engine. These fields had number of times seen themselves
ravaged by the likes of explosives. The same women have fed the warring
soldiers, and like these fields have retained their natural selves.
The train had been traveling for over an hour or so and there was
complete silence in their cabin when the familiar voice called "madam we are
approaching the customs point, you please give me your passport and visa
papers." ,it was the T.T.,who had met them at the Amritsar station.." I know
even though it has been decades that I passed these fields, last time I
accompanied my father then the customs point was at the Amritsar." Usamah
said reminiscing. "...Every custom officer was familiar to us as it was a
regular annual routine till my marriage. No custom officer would check our
baggage out of sheer respect for my father, He was a doctor." Usamah smiled
at her listeners and handed the passport and visa papers to the T.T., who then
left. Ahmed tried to read his mothers emotions,the intensity of which so far
eluded him.
The Atari Railway station was in no way different from any 'C'
category Railway platform and it barely resembled a customs point, "where
was the army, guns, bunkers, etc. that sustained the war news every day in the
news-papers? Ahmed in silence observed the rush, the melee around a single
table and chair occupied by a police officer. He was stamping the papers for
Immigration clearance. There was no war machinery although the whole
ambience was not less the same.
Coolies in red shirts who promised the visitors to expedite the matters
for a ransom amount of Rs.100-200, which would mean the one-fourth of his
total salary, which he received from railways. In fact Ahmed's mother argued
that they charge them as per schedule chart, the coolie replied, "madam here
The Riparian Neighbours9
no rates apply". Meanwhile the T.T.returned and reprimanded the coolie, who
was immediately repentant and offered to lift for free. The Bureaucracy and
status were important ingredients for general courtesy! . The family did not
have any problem with the customs, for their status was told to the custom
authorities. In fact the Asstt.Commissioner incharge offered to play host,
while soft drinks were served to the visiting family. He soon excused himself
for inspection of the custom proceedings. The only unusual thing was that
once the entry into custom clearance zone, was made (which was marked by
the grills pointed at the tips as a lance), none was allowed to move out, till the
train from Lahore has arrived. The zone was distinguished by a shop( not a
duty-free shop) with a strange mix of merchandise; i.e. coconuts, pineapples
some spices, and beetel leaves as at Amritsar station. Ahmed's mother went to
the shop and bought some quantity of all the available merchandise, sold at
higher price. Though these were to be the gifts which were not available in
Pakistan. This shop also offered a rather novel citrus fruit,
"Is this orange?" asked Ahmed, " No son this is malta found in
Pakistan only, its very juicy, you can have them in plenty", said his mother.
Ahmed indeed all through his stay drank the citrus juice, it was only on his
return that he could realize how the culinary preferences, the taste buds are
inseverable routines. The family was seated at a bench in wait. Usamah
thanked the T.T. and asked if he would like her to get something from
Pakistan for him or his family ?, "No,No madam thank you", said Prakash
shyly. "No please do tell me," Usamah."Well madam an American georgette
sari for my wife would be all , if that does not bother you," humbly Prakash
came out. Ahmed was looking at a table where the Commissioner was
standing explaining a short-height Afghan, who carried whole cosmetic shop
in his two huge freight boxes. The law prohibiting such large consignment,
even on payments of duty. The short Afghan was adamant and claimed to be
The Riparian Neighbours10
penniless. Meanwhile the Commissioner had to leave to attend a phone call.
The officer at the table asked him to leave a few boxes and to quickly move
away, before the Commissioner returned for the round. "I will explain the
sahib that you didn't have the money so we reduced the quantity" the officer
said. "What brother you are worse than a Russian " the Afghan kept back his
turban and moved with his freight, musing at the loss. Apparently in an era of
mercantile freeze, this was the best way out to deal with the demand for the
goods on either side of the border. Ahmed was lost to the perplexing situation
of the few odd men reeling under the policies and laws," Hello!
Mr.Philosopher ...called Bilqis his elder sister, ...you are suppose to help us",
Ahmed snapped " Huh…yes ", and lifted his bag and Hot-case. The T.T.
helped them board the green and yellow striped bogies of Pakistan Railways,
while half were simple Indian Red, so that is how it got the name of
"Samjhota (agreement)Express" observed Ahmed. Meanwhile the custom
authorities also increased their pace while sifting through the baggage. The
people struggled to repack their entire baggage whole once again. They would
be repeating the same exercise with just forty-five minutes of intervening
period. The time train took to cover distance upto Lahore. The platform wore
the same deserted look, as at the time of their arrival.
“So, now why the delay! Everyone wondered , apparently it was the
two middle-aged ladies who were being questioned about the contents of the
jar which contained pickle. The ladies said that they would not empty the jar
as the whole pickle would get spoiled, and that it was years that her brother
had tasted the special pickle, which she prepared with great care and affection.
The customs suspected something foul, as the smuggling activities were on a
rise. Their superintendent got a clean vessel from a nearby canteen and asked
them to empty the jars into it. They could not find anything , the two women
The Riparian Neighbours11
bickered the custom officials, who still suspected them. Finally the arguments
ended.
It was late-noon hours, the same train brought the passengers from
Lahore the India bound passengers in the morning hours. The train has barely
crossed the platform end when the mounted police-men escorted the train
which cruised at 40kmph and never faster than that, till it reached the border,
which was marked by a small cement mile-stone, covered by wild grass all
over; as an old grave. The mounted police had stopped galloping and soon the
train was again surrounded by the horsemen, but these were the Pakistan
Rangers, while the others watched the train from a distance through
binoculars. Had it not been the color difference of the uniform it was difficult
to know the borders so etch-marked. The children were excited about their
escorts, which would befit only to VIP status.
Though later on narrating the same experience it was explained to
them by Uncle Ahmar those horse-men escorted the train to prevent
smuggling. Ahmed and others felt let down. Ahmed being a dreamer
immediately compared the situation befitting the magnanimous mughal
emperor mounted on his white elephant escorted by his cavalry entering the
Lahore fort!. As the train sped-past a dusty village, the train was challenged
by a small village boy with just a dirty shirt with a half-torn pocket, who tried
to run along attempting to beat the speeding train.
The muezzin's call for late-noon prayers came from a distance.
Although the mosque was nowhere visible, but apparently the lone concrete
structure amidst the mud-houses was the one. The faithful laid their prayer-
mats and read the shortened prayersi. The sun was preparing to set and rise
somewhere else till next day's dawn in this part of the world. Although
weather was pleasant but the rail journey was bit tiring, despite the short
The Riparian Neighbours12
distance and duration. It was so characteristic wherever the Iron curtain was
laid.
At this moment there was sudden silence as two rangers sat at their
berths, Ahmed looked inside as disturbed by this sudden silence inside. He
saw the very unique dress, it was the shalwar-kameez, the outfit quite
common in Punjab and North-west area.
Ahmed was face-to-face with the enemy's soldiers for the first time.
He couldn’t ask them, despite the urge to do so, how they got inside the
moving train, and what was they looking for. After the silence of minute or
two, the Rangers left, they were probably looking for someone. The old lady
sitting adjacent on single seat told Usamah, "...they are the Pakistan Rangers
and they board the train as it slows down after crossing the Indian border.
They are the youngest force manning the borders and a favorite of the
Adminstrator ". The old lady was returning after a visit to her brother who
lived in north Indian state of Utttar Pradesh, and had her grand-son in the
same force. "Bibi my brother was in Indian Army who retired recently, it was
always painful for us each time there was a war", the old lady said."Begum
Sahiba my brother is in Customs, we hope to meet him at the station." and the
conversation continued while Ahmed watched around fascinated and excited,
like many of his co-passengers. The train by its mechanical-self with its daily
load of passengers for the day appeared to be least bothered about the daggers-
drawn, inside or outside its compartments. Its role was fixed and well-
assigned. For its mechanical clickety-clack the confusion as in mortals never
reigned.
Forever since it has lost the emotions when it carried the loads of
compartments full of butchered and stinking human bodies with lone driver
and a guard to be the lone pall-bearer. The repitition of tales of horror on each
occasion reminded them to be as mechanical as they were desigend for.
The Riparian Neighbours13
The destination was very near as the huge garrison buildings over-
shadowed the rail-racks. It slowed down a bit. The young rangers
disembarked . Ahmed quickly peeped-out to have the last look of the man. As
the two pair of eyes met, the border-guard gently waved as the bugle was
sounded in the background marking the sunset hour. The clickety-clack was
more at ease with the civilian rush who often pour more tears than blood, as
the eyes have seen decades with lost hopes. Those Retreating soldiers whom
the train took home were tattered lots, as they were forced to make peace.
It was the notorious customs at their job again, keeping the visitors on
their toes again. This time it was the Pakistani Authorities. There was a rush
of relatives at the custom barricades. There were the same coolies in their
green shirts, to distinguish them of their Red shirt Indian counterparts. They
offered the visitors free and easy passage through the point for a few hundred
rupees. The "rates" varied on the merchandise and the language.
The very sight of many estranged ones left the eyes flowing till they
dried to the realism of meeting the long-seperated and divided.
As the family disembarked, Usamah searched hard for the familiar
face wearing the warmth and affection .... Suddenly a young custom official
interrupted "you must be Mohtarmaii Usamah Begum ... the man continued
".... I am Asif Jahangir, Asst. Collector here ".. He was a tall and formidable
Baluch dressed in impeccable customs white . Usamah smiled back, "Sir ! ,
has asked me to escort you and children home " . _Usamah's eldest borther
was now Commissioner Customs for the upper Pakistan Division. Ahmed and
others were disappointed. Their escort consoled "....Sir ! was equally eager to
be here, but an unscheduled and crucial meeting with CMLAiii_". "...but he
will be home as soon as the meeting ends".
The Riparian Neighbours14
" Here children " said another man, he had orange juice cans, and
smilingly remarked ".... this is famous Malta fruit of our land . The first sip
made the juice the lasting favourite. Even the Nagpur (India) Orange variety
would not stand the juicy value.
It educated Ahmed why coconuts, mangoes and pineapples which his
mother purchased, like so many other visitors were must and precious gift,
after all. One just can't forget the taste and food habits acquired during
childhood. Usamah discussed the custom arrangements and settings with the
official escorting them as they waited for the Passport to be stamped. The very
same junior officer fetched their passports as they all waited in the Customs
guest-room at the platform. The privileges often set their own distinct rules.
The Riparian Neighbours15
Chapter Two
" Sir !, the car is ready " said the same man who fetched their passports and
Citrus fruit juice . A porter fetched his manual iron trolley, its wheel well
Lubricated, yet it made the unpleasant noise as it bumped on the uneven
surface of the platform. The other colleague who was standing outside would
help him. They in a swift fashion moved the trolley towards the official Car
Parking zone. As they stepped out of the station. There was a massive
forecourt. The front facade was Victorian as any other major railway station in
the sub-continent. The colonial legacy was evident. Meanwhile the visitors
convoy drove out. Children and their mother along with the same elderly man
who took the driver's place drove in the same car. It was followed by another
car, which had their luggage and their escort. The third car was a security
escort. It was a white villys jeep with commandos from Customs wing. The
two cars were of Opel make, one was white the other was metllaic sea-green.
The white one was marked as Pakistan Customs. The unique feature of their
first itenary Lahore impressed with its canals all over giving some semblance
of Venice. There were few boys and men who were bathing and swimming as
the vehicles fast sped by. The elderly man pointed out to an old colonial
building. That is State Bank of Pakistan, this happens to be our central bank. "
you mean like our Reserve Bank of India ", Bilqis said from behind “."...yes
bibi! " . After this turn on the right you can see the gate at the end that is
where Begum Saheb( their aunt) teaches . The Medical College is situated
slightly off the way that is where your sister is an intern. The roads were
slightly bumpy and needed repair. They have been driving for about half an
hour, when their car halted at a small market corner. There was a huge Bakery
and General Store, it was suppose to be the best in Lahore. Their convoy
The Riparian Neighbours16
started once again after some eatables, etc, were purchased. The convoy once
again came to a halt. The wireless in their car beeped. The message was from
the car behind, their escort Asif Jahangir said " Rex is home, Roger to lead ",
and as everybody heard the message, the car immediately behind sped fast and
now lead the convoy. The elderly-looking man smiled and said " Saheb ! is
home . " Everybody smiled back. " Oh you mean Ammu! is home !",
erupted Bilqis excitedly.
They convoy has now entered the cantonment zone, where some huge
Bungalows, formed the unique scape. The headquaters of Punjab Regiment
and some others also. The convoy passed two roudabouts and then on a wide
lane slowed down, took the left turn and stopped in front of a massive house.
This was their uncle's house. " Is it official residence, Ammi ?, asked
Ahmed . " No ....!" said Usamah . The car in front was parked outside while
their car was parked behind the other private and official cars inside the porch.
The Bungalow had a massive parking place and a huge lawn in front of the
main structure and entrance. Their car was parked right under the canopy of
the porch. In the lawn were some garden chairs and a table neatly laid with
breakfast items. There were butlers all over the place and few security men in
plain clothes around. Then a familiar-looking face appeared, towards whom
their mother rushed ....Bhaijan !iv. ".....My Dear Usi ! ....". This was Ahmed's
uncle. Next was the fortified house of Lieutenant General . "...So, these are
my children! Come to me”. Uncle Ahmar blessed and hugged them all "Come
Asif let us have a cup of tea first, and Qaziji (the elderly-looking man), why
didn't you pick Marina , on your way home ".
".... Saheb ", he was walking just a step behind Ahmar ".... On my way to
Railway station she has asked me to take her along, but there was some
emergency at the Hospital, because of a V.I.P. visit in the same area. She
should be back in an hour or so".
The Riparian Neighbours17
" Saheb it must be CMLA 's visit, the area falls under the jurisdiction of the
Medical College ", Asif Jahangir, their escort added.
"...So these Doctors are also suppose to stay on V.I.P. visits for
eventuality ...", Ahmar murmured as if to himself only.
While the visitors washed and changed. The tea was laid. Everybody
joined including Qaziji , the elderly-looking man seemed to be a close and
personal confidant of Ahmar's . The visitors sipped tea and had refreshments,
while they chatted excitingly. Uncle Ahmar had a unique sense of humour.
"...O.K. children this is a Havana Cigar, Castro’s favourite. But for fear of
CIA trying to poison him Cubans thought it best to have exported them to
Pakistan. Now the Pakis are thinking to use them on Russian Generals in
Afghanistan...", Hahahahaha….!!!!!!!!!. Everybody listened attentively not
realising his subtle mocking manners. "... However the Pakistani Customs
wants the duty to be paid on these exports to Afghanistan, but the
Administrator (CMLA)v wants us to wave the procedure. However, the white
of customs refuses to bow to the likes of olive. This was the topic of our
meeting today. " Everybody smiled as they realised his funny streak. Ahmar
without any expression continued "...Now what do you think we (customs )
should do ?."
" Did you pay the duty on the Cigars ", Ahmed asked, as uncle Ahmar lit the
Cigar nonchalantly. " Did we ?" uncle Ahmar to Asif , " I think so , Sir, as it is
on the prohibited list." replied Asif in a serious manner . "This is the argument
I am going to put before CMLA, which my young boy just suggested...", he
continued " Asif what do you think of my nephew , isn't he brilliant ?!" . Asif
smilingly "He is Sir!". "Ammu !, he is brilliant in such things but not his
studies ", remarked Bilqis . "... You seem to envy this boy ! ..." Uncle
Ahmar."They are never at peace..." , Usamah their mother complained . "
They are innocent ..." intervened Qazi, the elderly looking man . It was now
The Riparian Neighbours18
late-noon, when muezzin called for the late noon prayers. Everybody got up
for the prayers. Asif left and invited the visitors to his home. As Asif's car
left, an ambulance halted just in front of the gate and out came a girl with a
stethescope and a white lab coat casually laid at her left shoulder. Ahmed and
Saif who sat facing the main entrance could see the people coming in and
going out through the huge glass panes. They rushed outside to receive their
cousin sister. " Nina Appivi is here ", as they entered the lounge. Saif walked
to her left while Ahmed held her right hand. Nina ruffled her fingers through
Ahmed's hair and walked him close to herself. " Where were you going
anyway?, Well I just decided to boycott your house in protest as you did not
come to receive us, as promised… ", Ahmed sarcasm was out at first meeting.
"Oh, I am sorry, but today I had a very important assignment, as we were to
conduct some field study and then this emeregency duty!!!" Nina cajoled. She
lifted Saif, upto her arms. "Nina you seem to be getting well with these
naughty creatures, said Usamah, Bilqis followed her towards the entrance of
the main hall. They exchanged traditional greetings, Usamah blessed Nina
"you look beautiful..." "This must be Bilqis..." Nina extended her hand to
Bilqis as they hugged and kissed each other in traditional manner. "Phuppi,
(paternal aunt) Ahmed is like Sheikhu (her brother). How come they have
such similarities.... ! , May Allah save us from their escapades...", "…you see
this is consanguinity.." , Ahmed"...this boy has a long beak "Bilqis , "...I am
not Greek or Kashmiri ". "...Shut up! don't be irritating " Bilqis initimidated .
Then there was silence for some time as everybody sat down close to each
other. " I don't see the girls?”, Uncle Ahmar, "...They are in Nina's room
…",Usamah , "Sir , your telephone..." said the Butler ".... Tell Qasim not to
direct any call, except that from the CMLA..."
"... Sir ! ...", Butler and Qasim entered with RAX hand-set, "... Sir, CMLA is
on the line ", Qasim. Ahmar immediately seized the set. " Good evening
The Riparian Neighbours19
Sir, .... , paused “....as you say Sir, I will ask my Indian counter-part to look
into the matter , I think we need to hold a secret meeting on this sensitive
issue . ....Good night Sir ". Qasim took the handset out of the room. "What is
it that he is deciding, " he wants some concessions from Indian side in lieu of
allowing the Indian goods destined for Afghanistan. He wants the same status
for Pakistani goods for Bangladesh on over-land route...". " He is too
optimistic...", Usamah. " No he wants Indians to refuse his demands first so
that he can retaliate. He is from undivided India and is very ambitious and
calculating… He does his homework well, there are very few generals like
him ", Ahmar pondered. The boys too joined the girls in Nina's room. It was
upstairs. Their noises could be heard down-stairs. "...Anyway it is nice you
are here, I don't know if ever I shall be able to visit our home..." There was a
long pause. Butler Niaz entered and said ".... Sir, Bhaijan's telephone " (eldest
brother of Ahmar and Usamah) " Yes, Bhaijan its me...” Usamah in choked
voice, ...I am hearing your voice after four years.” Did you received my
letter. I tried to telephone you but Islamabad numbers are very difficult to get.
Ok…so you are coming after two days, and what about Bhabhi (sister-in-law).
A...Haaan....yes…bhabhi Assalam o alai kum...., Amjad (the other nephew)
called me from States(USA), I read their article in Lancet on "Health
problems in South Asia " . We all are very proud of them (Amjad and his
wife, both being Doctors). It is a very important study. In India Health experts
are all praise for their work and efforts. No, Shahla Bhabhi (Ahmars' wife) is
yet to arrive, there flight was cancelled indefinitely two days ago. Now they
shall reach here tonight from Karachi. Yes, children they are busy with Nina
and enjoying. ...Saghir (her husband) is busy with his work as usual. After last
year floods he has been assigned the situation beforehand in Kashmir Valley.
This year has been very hectic for him....OK.... Khuda hafiz."
The Riparian Neighbours20
"Ammu, I saw your guns they are excellent and light-weight too ", Ahmed
broke in, with Saif following him and jumping straight into uncle Ahmar's
lap. "Who was it, your elder Ammu , Usamah to Bilqis ,"... Nina Appi is
having her bath. Ammu when are we going to airport?”, Bilqis to Ahmar, "Oh,
it is very near, Usamah reminisced "... we all i.e. Bhabhi, Ammu and little
Nina would just walk upto the airport then, Sheikhu wasn't born then" . "Oh is
it so near,..." Bilqis, " yes of course, you sleep well after such long walk of 5-
6 Kms both ways included."
“Abbuji and Ammiji(their parents). would also join us at times”, Ahmar too
spoke reminiscingly.
"...There is much to remember, not all are good memories, ...this Diaspora
needs to be rectified politically; although we are individually too lost to be the
same individuals." He paused as Nina entered doing her hair-locks, joining the
silence in the room, quietly sat next to Bilqis, looking at her father's pensive
face. Surprised, at her father’s rare display of emotions, yet she kept mum.
Ahmar glanced at Nina and then looked towards his sister and said " I have
been to India twice after the ’71 war…”, Usamah taken aback stopped before
saying anything "...but I could not visit you all as it was a secret visit and the
issues covered were very sensitive ones. My eyes would make me believe that
I saw you somewhere in the city." "...And And all these years I believed that
you were calling from Lahore itself ", Usamah in utter disbelief. "...Even they
did not know that I went to New Delhi not once but twice", pointing towards
his daughter Nina ,"... It must be one of those Karachi visits ", said Nina. Nina
loved her father but never trusted him for reasons of his offical errands when
he often lied to his family. The sudden appearance of a truth, made everybody
resent those who were responsible for the circumstances where even the
blood-relations were not to be trusted.
The Riparian Neighbours21
At the airport there were hardly any barriers and the approach to the
tarmac was easy like any other place at the airport. They all sat at the grass
just next to tarmac. There were other visitors as well. It was a small building
and the distinction between a visitor and passenger was the boarding card
alone.
" In India the access to the tarmac is not possible ", Ahmed said to Uncle
Ahmar. "Well it is a matter of time when this easy access will no longer be as
it exists", Ahmar.
"Look at those small aeroplanes, Ammu is it meant for children? , I would like
to fly one ",innocent Saif . Everybody looked towards Saif and then to the
small Fokker and executive jets, which looked much like children of giant
Boeings which surrounded them.
Finally the flight from Karachi was announced, it was a huge Boeing
and was an international flight from Frankfurt via Karachi-Lahore to
Islamabad. On their way home it was decided that they should go to Race
Course for the Dinner. It was there that the family realised what duo namely
Ahmed and SHeikhu his cousin were capable of when it came to mischief and
pranks. Ahmed and Sheikhu were too complimentary to each other. There
coordination grew stronger and their adventures became notorious in the
neighbourhood. The vicinity later realized that the two devils thought, what
even the Generals who resided in the posh Cantonment facility would not
dare. Saif most of the time watched the television in true Colours ! . Very few
heard of the same, until the public television began to relay colour
transmission in India, with multi-channels. He watched with great enthusiasm
various series like Six-Milion Dollar man, Bionic Woman, and "Kojak" was
their favourite.
The boys learnt to swim at the Army swimming pool nearby, and
would go cycling for long distances along with some other local boys. The
The Riparian Neighbours22
clothes they bought were there instant favourites with Japanese and American
cotton and jeans. Ahmed acquired "Kojak" style, and would always have the
"Kojak" lolly-pop in his mouth, pretending as if smoking Cigar, like "Kojak"
would. The Indian films were available on video-casettes, these were new
advancements in entertainment which made them feel excited.
The boys Sheikhu and Ahmed by now had a fixed routine, one
street brawl, one shot at the neighbours mango tree and jamun tree.
Lots of cycling and swimming. Their sisters liked their pranks only to
the extent when they too were beneficiaries of the same. One flat tyre
of any car parked in the vicinity. This they did by taking out air-valve.
This was part of their morning adventure on their return from mosque
after pre-dawn prayers. Evenings were to test each other’s sporting
talents. Ahmed would loose Tennis game to Sheikhu but would beat
him at the cycling. They never fought over winning and loosing,
despite their sisters, best efforts to make them fight in order to have
peace in the home. Later on they even decided to wear same kind and
colour of clothes.
Almost every evening there would be some party or dinner as
the relatives would come to meet them. Sheikhu, Ahmed and Saif
became friendly with their nbeighbour's grand children, who were
though slightly younger to the trio. Saif was the youngest of the lot.
One day there was a party at the General's residence and
Ahmed and his family were also invited. While the Generals came in
their evening uniforms there were many in civilian attire and wore the
Pathani suit, the new official dress. At the roundabout MPs(Military
Policemen) were posted, who directed the parking of vehicles and
security arrangements . In the last CMLA arrived who did not wearing
his uniform, preferring civilian dress, with long moustaches.
The Riparian Neighbours23
The miscreant boys thought of something, which was not only
unique but revolutionary. They decided to mislead the Army officers.
No sooner had the CMLA left the party everybody was relaxed
and the MPs too left. The roundabout during the day-time always had
an MP to guide the flow of traffic as the Punjab Regiment Head
Quarters were also situated nearby. So the drivers of these Generals
and officers drove cautiously. That night the roundabout was dimlylit,
so Ahmed planned-out the whole scheme, along with others. Their
neighbours i.e. the Grand-children of General were to get an old Cap
like those worn by the MPs. The whistle cord belonged to Sheikhu's
NCC dress. Ahmed stood in the centre of the round-about and as soon
as they saw a car approaching, he would stand making the car stop and
then direct it in opposite direction. It happened with two cars, whose
drivers were probably not acquainted with the area. Behind those dark
glasses could not make out the prank. A third car stopped to ask
Ahmed about some Brigadier's house. Ahmed directed him in wrong
direction. None of them suspected any foul play. That day pranksters
were excited having beaten adults at their own game.
Everybody took the turn at the circle. It was only when General's
grand-daughter took her turn that the drivers realised that somebody
was trying to fool them. The General must have been shocked to find
something of that sort on his agenda next morning as he was also
incharge of Cantonments security apart from being the Administrator.
The next it was late eveining when the boys were relaxing and
watching TV when General's grand daughter straight away went to
Shaikhu's room and without any warning, started abusing and beating
him with his hockey-stick. Poor Shaikhu ! , alas failed to understand
The Riparian Neighbours24
her problem,as they were pretty good friends. The girl left in a huff,
with all elders and rest of the lot watching this funny dramatic event.
Poor Shaikhu hurt his left foot in the melee while trying to save
himself getting pulverised.
It was only when the girl's brother came later the same evening that the
boys realised what the girl had to go through on account of her escapade last
night. Apparently the driver of the thir car realised the kids were trying to
have fun, so he reported the same to the General’s orderly. The Generals’
orderly found out the culprit which was her. That particular orderly and
Marina were never at peace. The orderly saw his chance to equal.
In despair and anger her grand-father spoke apprehensive about her future life
and remarked that she would get somebody like Shaikhu as bride-groom, if
she continued to behave irresponsibly.
On being told so, Shaikhu and Ahmed decided to take mileage out of the
situation. The two were insensitive when they came to settle score with their
friends. However they were very diplomatic and decided something really
weird.
A letter was written faking reply to Marina’s allged letter whereby
he(shaikhu) refused her offer to marry once they are adults. The duo ensured
that the same letter was placed at the General's table. They bribed the same
personal attendant, by giving him 10 rupees note and also threatened to tell
General about his “misdeeds”, in case!!!. The attendant was a young recruit
from a remote village in the frontier region. Although he was very tall and
strong, the man was without any brains at all. Two days passed the girl
stopped coming, even to meet their sisters. Marina was very interested how
women in India lived.
The letter was too much for her, the boys thought. However, they were
anxious to know what treatment she received at the hands of the General.
The Riparian Neighbours25
They could not have dared to ask her younger brother who was their play-
mate as well .The sisters were ruled out for the favour as they were also not on
suitable terms with them. Probably they sympathised with the girl. Then
something unique happened, the girl had the courage to defy all ban. She
called-up , and asked for Shaikhu . At first the Butler picked-up the receiver.
“Hello !” said Shaikhu . "...........after brief pause....Shaikhu its me Marina , "
"...yes Marina " , Shaikhu surprised , Ahmed stood next to him and listened
with his ear glued to the receiver's back . "....Shaikhu are you serious about
the refusal to my offer " ,boys realised the girl was upto something, and
exchanged looks ".....Aaa,what do you mean ? " Shaikhu hesitantly . "I mean
about us, your letter of refusal to marry me , which you had it placed before
my grand-father . Shaikhu I shall not eat any food till you say yes to my
demand or you say that the letter was a fake. I am going to tell everybody in
my house, why I am on a hunger strike. Shaikhu I am serious you can ask the
attendant ...." . Then smashed down the receiver. The boys knew this was a
check-mate to their plans. Soon it was all over, as the word spread from
servants, to subordinates, to the whole family even the relatives who stayed
far from the place. This was serious. The reaction of all adults in the house
made the boys bit nervous. "We will not let her win " said Ahmed. They
stood in the balcony of the first floor, from where they could over-look a
portion of girl's house as well . The boys were scary about Uncle Ahmar
coming to now of their activities. Then in that case they may have to
apologise. The boys were so immersed in their planning that they failed to
notice that their conversation was not a secret one. Nina and Bilqis overheard
all . Nina gently patted the two heads " Alright what is this, you must know
the girl doesn't have a father and General is quite a strict man, Shaikhu you
were never so irresponsible or stoic. Do realise you are no longer just kids.
You know our society. People might interpret the whole affair as something
The Riparian Neighbours26
real and bad or even vulgar. They don't think like you do!” Bilqis stood there
nodding and said "... Appi , Ahmed is quite notorious at such things, he must
have instigated him " . "Shaikhu has grey cells, he doesn't need my advice to
do some thing so silly and obvious " ,Ahmed retorted. Shaikhu stood in
silence listening to what all had to say, he then spoke " Alright I am willing to
apologise provided she too apologises for her behaviour the other day when
she hurt me for no reason or fault of mine."
Let it be tomorrow, she is only going to reduce her weight that way ",
unrepentent Ahmed jokingly remarked ." No it is going to be today and right
now", said Nina . Their mothers called them downstairs. " Now what is all this
about the letter and the harassment of the poor girl " asked Usamah, while
Shahla ,(Shaikhu's mother ) sat next to her staring at the boys. "Shaikhu I
know the girl, she is nice and I know its one of your tricks, so stop it all now.
God forbid; what if that orphan girl does something in depression!
“...Boys of our family never behave like stray-man. Don't forget ..." and she
started sobbing . Usamah consoled her.Shahla was quick to tears unlike
Usamah who was pretty strict with the kids. "I will only apologise tomorrow
and only if she also apologises to me ", Shaikhu spoke in a loud voice and
tried to move."Shaikhu stay put..." Usamah sternly. Shaikhu knew his aunt
who slapped him once when he ill-behaved. "...you made your mother cry and
then dare to speak loud .This defiance cannot be tolerated ...."...but
Phuppi(paternal-aunt ) she was wrong..." Shaikhu interrupted.
" Don't interrupt when your elders are talking, you understand ...!" Usamah
reprimanded. "Tell me all " Usamah in a conciliatory tone. Ahmed and
Shaikhu revealed it all. "Alright I will talk to the girl and then you can say
sorry tomorrow to her, you boys are crazy, May Allah give you patience and
peace!".
The Riparian Neighbours27
The whole episode was soon forgotten until many many years after,
when Shaikhu and the girl came on a visit to India as husband and wife. Their
marriage was a sort of coincidence as the General moved to his ancestral town
soon after his retirement.
The regime of Generals has commenced once again, the
political movement almost stopped and appeared to be dying, like and
unattended patient. The Generals who closed the Race Course to prohibit
betting, they themselves started political betting, they bought and sold
politicians like a trade commodity. The CMLA stopped wearing his uniform,
ever since that night. He continued to head army in a civilian uniform and
civilian office, unelected, unopposed. His political graduation from CMLA to
President came long after, but it was conceived the same night.
The Riparian Neighbours28
CHAPTER III
The visitors did not have the visa for Islamabad initially, but then
it was arranged then and there by Uncle Ahmar. On their visit to the twin
city of Rawalpindi and Islamabad. They were to visit their eldest Mamu3
where they were to attend two marriages. So everybody packed in the
notorious Ford family Van. The Van belonged to Uncle Ahmar’s fleet of
Vans. These Gas-guzzlers were very popular on the street as the Toyota
Coaster, was yet to make mark on the Highways. The American
automobiles still dominated the scanty and poorly maintained roads. The
Japanese vehicles have made heavy inroads for their cheap and economic
value. The Japanese were trying to make inroads into Pakistan Army. The
Generals still thought that the Japanese cars, were more of punishment,
for their elite service and status in the society. Once a working (interim)
Prime Minister anointed by Generals remarked “I shall put all the generals
in Suzuki”. The man himself a land-lord met the fate not uncommon for
zealous democrat. In less than a month’s time his fiscal trimming of the
system, met the tragic end of his political career. He was unceremoniously
removed from office of Prime Minister, to travel in a Pajero for rest of his
life, than a Lincoln or Mercedes. The Olive-white tradition was reaffirmed
when another General removed both the civilian Prime Minister and
President one arrested, on very short-notice to vacate the Presidential
palace. All in the name to save democracy. The “night of Generals” never
ended in the Indus politics.
As they all traveleld on the road which was the lifeline of
Pakistan, as it connected the two capitals namely the political and
financial (Islamabad with Karachi) , The Highway was more of free for
3 Maternal Uncle
The Riparian Neighbours29
all. The Pathans dominated the transport in this northern part also. They
decorated, Lorries hardly resembling their original make and design. It
was a prized possession for the owners and drivers alike. Some of them
were ridiculously ornate.
The driver of their Van was specially instructed to keep the pace to
the safe levels, yet the driver did not spare any chance to drive at high
speeds, as and when he saw an opportunity to do so. It took just 3 hours to
complete the journey. It could have been shortened but for the two stops
they made on their way. The road ran parallel to the rail track, which
entertained a small electric train service between the two points namely
Lahore and Islamabad. “look there is a small train” Saif, as they climbed
the foothills of Sulaiman ranges. It was a beautiful ride but the Army
check-posts most of them empty and Artillery Vehicles could be seen at
some distance from the Highway. Till the Army came in power, this was
the tourist destination. The lone hill station of Murri and beyond were
quite a fashion for many, urbane lot. “Oh we must have visited Murri
some 15-16 years ago, Usamah” “ ya…!!!!!!!” both Usamah and Shahla
excalimed in unison. “soon you got married ! , only bhaijan could attend,
I think it was just before the ’65 war. May Allah lend peace to this
khitta4” Shahla then stared blank out of the side window. The pelaseant
breeze blew across the green vegetation, which covered the foothills. At
times large grasslands would appears where the shepherd would be busy
with his herd.
The Van stopped next to a bungalow, with landscape view, atop
hill with a row of bunglaows down the road. This was at the end of the
same. It was a Bungalow, which would remind one of colonial
architecture blended with modern Villas. This was Uncle Hisham’s house.
4 sub-continent(piece of land)
The Riparian Neighbours30
Uncle Hisham and his wife, aunt Maria, an English woman lived with an
Army of servants.
As the Van honked the security guard stepped out of the small
wooden sentry-box, standing next to the main Iron gates. He saluted on
recognition of the faces and then opened the gate. A tall man appeared of
strong built and grey hairs dressed in impeccable light-grey trousers and
white shirt with a caravat and brown-white shoes much like Golf ones.
The man wore moustache with thick eye-brows. The first to alight was
Usamah who was sitting just next to the side door. The two paced towards
each other with open arms and embraced each other, then she stood there
clinging him and with teary eyes pointed to her children. “There are three
of them now.” “Usi my dear, you still look equally ebullient and
beautiful” this was aunt Maria. They pecked at each other’s cheeks.”
“This is Maria mami” “he is Ahmed, that is Saif and she is Bilqis”.
“Oh….love you all,…I recognize each one of them from the photos you
sent recently”, “Bilqis is very pretty, her complexion, is like yours”.
“Ahmar, Shahla, finally you can be here on vacations…!!!. Uncle Hisham
lead holding Ahmed, Sheikhu hands on one side and Saif on the other.
Then he stopped and turned his head and asked Nina and Bilqis to join
them. They entered the door which lead into a massive Passage with two
huge Halls on either side of the passage, This lobby was decorated with
fern and palm plants placed in copper urns, lit with decorated lamps, the
giant doors opened to many rooms sideway. Although the ceiling was
very high, it appeared to be centrally air-conditioned. They sat on the Hall
at the right side of the huge passageway. This was nothing compared to
Shekhus’ house. The house’s entrance was deceptive, as it did not match
this Mansion-like House. A little smaller than a Castle. Uncle Hisham was
a very wealthy and popular business-man, respected widely across
The Riparian Neighbours31
political circles for his sincerity and uprightness. As they walked inside
the private Hall, they were followed by three servants who were ready
with silver trays, laid with silk cloth and full of servings.
This Private Hall had huge ceilings and paintings were mounted on
the walls, some of the pictures were that of their fore-fathers who were
Zamindars5 and nawabs6, it had two parallel rows of couches with
embroidered and silk tapestry mostly four seaters with corner tables and
rows of center tables. All these center tables had Glass tops with carved
wooden base. The Persian carpets and the glorious Czech chandeliers
spelled the splendour and opulence, which was so tasteful. In between the
two rows lay a two-seater couch, at the head of the room. On either side
of which stood the stuffed Tigers and this couch had a chital7 skin on
covering it on the sides lay corner tables and Jaeinamaz8 of Sambhar’s9
skin. On top were two guns from yester-years rather antique with silver
coated barrels with Uncle Hisham’s anme incribed on to it. There was a
massive window, which hid bhind the heavy curtains. One could spend
time without ever realising whether it was day or night outside. Such were
the surroundings. Ahmed and his family lived a modest life with bare
essentials. Their only acquaintence was the old ancestral Haveli10, which
lay half dilapidated at their ancestral place where once their fore-fathers
lived as Zamindars and Nawabs.
5 landed aristocracy6 local royalty in small principlalities7 small deer, spotted deer8 Prayer-mat9 Large variety of Deer family like Reindeer.10 Mansioni As permitted during the travel period.ii Urdu for Madame(respectful gesture)iii Chief Martial Law Administratoriv Urdu for brother(affectionate way)v
vi Urdu for elder sister.
The Riparian Neighbours32
Uncle Hisham walked and sat at the couch, which lay at the
center, while he made the rest of them sit in the rows near to him. Only
Saif sat next to him. “Usamah we two old people live all by ourselves in
this massive house, it is good to have children and you, them all together
after such a long time ….ammi and Abba would have been very happy to
see us all together”, Aunt Maria. A very caring person who was
gregarious and talkative by nature, quite unlike Uncle Hisham. They two
met in London where Uncle Hisham was studying and ran small family
shipping business. That was a family business. He developed it into a
great success and now he was stated to be shipping tycoon. His only son
was in USA who was working there as Doctor. Now he wanted his
nephew Sheikhu to take-over business when he grew up.
Uncle Hisham was very found of his Pipe, which he usually held
in his hand. He smoked his pipe only when he was alone or in a business
meeting. “So Ahmed I hear you wish to be a Nuclear scientist, why is that
so ?”, as he sipped juice while holding Pipe in his left hand. “aaa…!!!, I
think that is a challenging and fast developing science”. “Ok ok …!!!!!”. “
There are many modern sciences but he is fascinated by Research, so that
he can be all by himself, a sort of loner he is.”Bilqis chipped in. “ they are
typical example of confronting siblings, Hashimta” Nina smilingly said.
Uncle Hashim laughed heartily. He was a man who would give a hearty
laugh every now and then. “ you know kids, me and Uncle Ahmar were
like that…” he again laughed, and everybody joined in. “But don’t tell it
to uncle Ahmar…., he would be here any moment now…” he again
buirsted in to laughter…, “ Oh ho …, so what is the joke, lets share it
bhai..” Aunt Shahla said while seating herself next to Nina “ No its not
meant for all”.
The Riparian Neighbours33
The hous ewas splendid, opulent, detailed and worked as if to
refelct the taste and persona of the inhabitants.
Ahmed was influenced by Uncle Hashim , he thought him to be
the reporsitiry of their lineal past when they lived in such grandeur.
Ahmed was solitary in some senses, where he did not share many of his
passions. In some ways he was stoic. Ahmed was blessed with extremely
great memory and sharp mind, he could recall things with maverick
quality and exactly in details.
During their stay with Uncle Hisham, he learnt more about the
past, partition. Once when Uncle Hisham took them to the upcoming
Presidential palace whose foundation stone ceremony was led by the
CMLA only recently. The palace, was being built by a friend of Uncle
Hisham. He was a Sindhi11 businessman who loved to wear suits, despite
the scorching Sun. He showed them the small replica of the same, it was a
miniature which looked opulent, well fortified and extravagant. The
CMLA realised that this was a poor society and to justify the magnificent
project in fiscal mess was a big task.
In the ceremony CMLA said “ this will be a repository of the
people of Pakistan, it will be a people’s house”
The miniature kept there had these lines embossed on its bottom.
In the same office there hanged a saying from Caliph Ali: “ the biggest
tyrant is the dictator”. On an adjacent wall hung the biblical words: “ I
think therefore I am”. It was an interesting combination of settings and
sayings. Somehow that highly westernised friend of Uncle Hisham was
fond of wise words. He was also a classical example that the wisdom is a
combination of wise selection of words and not situations.
11 from the name of southern province Sindh.
The Riparian Neighbours34
The wedding was next day. It was at a distance from Islamabad.
The place was called lahalu and was in the tribal belt. It was on the road
leading to Peshawar. Many small rivulets and small gorges fell on the
ineter-state highway. They drove in a convoy of three Land-Rovers. Uncle
Hisham was very fond of them and kept them in immaculate condition.
All waxed metallic paint and with all gears for snow and muddy
conditions inside. He was an avid Hunter, and was a sort of
environmentalist. These were Air-conditioned and were very comfortable
to drive in. After travelling for about half an hour or so, the convoy
crossed a small bridge over a seasonal rivulet.
From here onwards the road was kuchcha(muddy) and dusty track
They had to drive with windows closed and the AC keeping the inside
cozy. It was the most effective Car airconditioning with blowers located at
two different points. These vehicles were designed to withstand the
scorching and unrelenting tropical sun. It was this scorching summers that
the Arab grammaticians decided Sun as female gender. The moon,
belonging to male gender.
Although the view was absolutely breath-taking, where the dirt
track ran next to the rivulet flowing with its full zest and zeal. This lone
track was situated in the plains with the hills running just parallel to the
vast plains. It was in the foot of the mountains. There were very few
vehicles. This was not an affluent area by any standard. People looked as
desolate and poor as would any remote place appear for reason of apathy.
However it seemed that their’s were the only Land Rovers there. It was all
Japanese vehicles mostly Pajeros. The Japanese were capturing the Asian
markets with great maverick capabilities. Many Europeans (firms/brand
names) were simply disappearing from their commonwealth or former
colonies as the case may be. It was as if the Asian Tigers were there with
The Riparian Neighbours35
vengeance. Their identity was established and accepted under the very
American patronage. The Americans were trying to gain their strongest
ally in these far footholds, in an era of mutual mistrust and hate. Russians
were marching in deprived and ravaged Black Sea and Camrahn Bay.
The ideologies were already blurred and the poor were taught empty
stomachs, with kalashnikovs and Grenade launchers on their lean
shoulders. It was their only proud possession, which many foot soldiers in
tattered clothes and uniform could display.
In the words of the revolutinary poetvii :
Muflisi hisse latafat ko mita deti hai,
Bhuk tehzib ke sachon mein nahin dhal sakti
Translation roughly reads:
Poverty lament sophistry,
Who seek manners when empty belly.
There being many people in this region walking in false pride in
torn shoes and sandals with their guns on the shoulders shining bright.
Uncle Hisham also carried a gun, small Uzi sub-machine gun with
very precision capabilities. The third vehicle was carrying three armed
escorts alongwith two servants who also carried small weapons. It was no
longer safe for the rich and affluent to travel without Armed escorts. The
interiors through out were dacoits and robbers infested. The writ of police
did not run there or atleast they posed no challenge to these small local
armed gangs.
vii Sahir Ludhianvi, his song in a film was banned by the Nehru government for some time.
The Riparian Neighbours36
After an hour and a half they stopped at the gates of an Old fort
with its unique mud architecture. The huge and massive gate with metal
spikes made it look like a fortified fort. Although, there was no moat in
sight. It stood as lone vanguard to the cluster of houses, which stood at
the mountains behind. Out came a tall man with very bushy moustach
covering his half face with a spear in his hand dressed in his traditional
costume from the small gate. He saluted, as soon as he recognized the
convoy. The gates were opened. Inside was a different world of
splendour, richness and sagacity. This was the palace of the local princely
person called Nawab Markaz Hayat. His fore-fathers were local
commanders during the Mughal era. Their family distinction being that
the British never took away their honours or property despite their fierce
loyalty to the Mughal Emperor. It was only for a very brief period that
they were devoid of their status around 1860. It was a family, which never
fell out of favour of ruling elite. The tradition sort of continued, he was
the local strength to the popularity of the CMLA, not very long ago he
was a minister in the erstwhile democratic government. Uncle Hisham and
he were not friends in real sense of the word. They were more of close
business associate. Uncle Hisham was a typical businessman in one sense.
He never dabbled into politics. It was here that Nawab Markaz Hayat
would be of great help often. Although, this Master-fixer always charged
some money or took some obligation in return of the favour. Unattended
obsolete system was the breeding ground for such parasites.
It was a very ostentatious experience for the visitors, where the
women only discussed clothes and jewellery and men their favourite past
times. The bridegroom would stay fopr next five days enjoying the
hospitality of the bride’s family with his elaborate number of guests
(entourage).
The Riparian Neighbours37
The bride was a beautiful girl of tender age, around sixteen-
seventeen, on day of nikah she sat in the middle of huge Hall on a slightly
raised circular bed with two pillows matching her bridal suit. With a
small footrest lying in the direction where she faced. The room was full of
women. The fountains placed in four-corners, with Rose water pouring,
almost intoxicating aroma.
Their beautiful faces coupled with alabaster skin complimented a
fiction, a fantasy. Their grace and elegance would sunken the fiction of
passion and desire in one go. Many of them wore almost same perfume,
this was just to identify them as from one family.
The Hall did not have the doors it has a raised dome as its roof,
with small glasses and massive chandelier small ones hanging around it.
Instead there were Silk and Net curtains with their transluscent view
enhanced the charm of the harem. Women were seated on the shite sheets
strewn over rich Persian carpets, with small walkways marked with red
carpets. The Hall was filled with Rose aroma, whose source were the
fountains at the fourcorners of the Hall. Many of the women wore same
perfume to identify their family or clan.
“…Daira, they are from Hashim sahebs’ family, she Nina and you
are….” Lady of the house, “Bilqis” “why don’t you sit with her for
sometime.” “Are you people studying” Daira spoke in English. “Ah yes !
I am doing my Internship (medicine) and she studies in school” “Aah,
Karachi” “No India…rather Delhi” “ you look beautiful and this dress is
made to order in everyway” “ yes we got it from Lahore” “don’t you think
you are too young to marry” “Bilqis, you cant ask this…here at least !”
“No she is right, but our circumstances are different, we still follow the
age-old routines” “ Is there nobody whom you could ask for help, I mean
The Riparian Neighbours38
your mother, granny” “SHSSHHHHHHHHH, Bilqis some people are
looking at us” “ Daira do we have be afraid!!!!!” . Saif stood there behind
Nina gazing at the little bride. In this Harem only very young boys were
allowed not even those of Ahmed’s age. The purdah was strictly
observed.
“Wakil saheb qabooliyat ke liye aa rahe hain” ( Wakil is approaching for
her consent). It was announced by one of the Eunuchs. The women inside
covered their heads with their veils. An old man entered with two
witnesses at his side. The Eunuch in a subtle mannerism asked them to
follow. They stopped next to the Bed where Daira sat with her veil half
pulled down her face. Only her deep red lips and milky white chin was
visible to those standing. The Wakil! asked for Daira’s consent for Nikah,
Daira nodded here head in yes, he asked her thrice, she repeatedly nodded
in acceptance. In a Hall filled with hundreds of women, the din, now bore
pin-drop silence. The words of wakil resounded as it reached the top of
the dome. He asked Daira to sign on Nikahnama, Bilqis and Nina were
standig just next to her. Bilqis took out a pen from her side pocket and
gave it to her.
Nina and Bilqis congratulated her and then left to sit next to where
their mothers were sitting.
“ I am sure the girl must have resisted…must you be blunt, she is
already going through an emotional experience” “look mami you have to
take consent to marry. Won’t that means you cant force a choice or even
an option” “…Bilqisbi Will Papa make you marry soon and then leave
us…” Saif. “No No, I am not going to leave you that soon” She bent
forward and kissed Saif ‘s head, who then wrapped his hands around her
legs in affection.
The Riparian Neighbours39
A day after they returned to their uncles’ place in Islamabad. Soon
they headed for Lahore where they were destined to travel Karachi. They
stayed there for about ten days. The train journey took through the Thar
desert and the Indus flow. Tezgam express was carrying only three bogies
of air condition coaches. It was quite a task to get the reservations, but the
prviledged did not have to scramble either by influence (position) or by
paying bakshish viii now called illegal gratification/bribe. There being
other names but it was so rampant that this was the convenient way of
getting around the sickening legal provisions which ante-date many of
those living in the sub-continent. In the State whereby professing its
existential flow on religious and moral highs, the stark realism of the
common subjects life was quite anti-thesis.
There are many compromises which the modern State may make.
It is the gap in ideals and their practice. Then there are segments who feel
bound by the thrust and compulsion of the ideals as part of their identity
and existence. At the same time, there are other segments of society
whose thinking and circumstances are a mismatch and their concern is less
and less of the national values. In the growing era of universalism, the
future of the same is nonetheless apparently safe. Although peace eludes
modern States, yet growing nihilism of those who follow the ideals of the
Welfare State and its existence are dividing themselves into moderates and
extremists.
The growing division may be attributed to the gap in the
democratic ideals and differing standards for disparaged sea of humanity
polarized on affiliations to set of competing ideals.
viii Bakshish meaningTip, British started it during the colonial era to win over their subjects. It became so rampant paractice. Even to this day is the biggest spource of the grass-root corruption. In India a commission was set up to see if at all ghoos(bribe) like that existed. Nowhere the word was found to be in use, many euphemisms existed. It is believed that Dowry-giving parctice was the major sources of corruptiona and lame excuse for bribery.
The Riparian Neighbours40
There isn’t much to console for those who were termed the
freedomfighters and those who were made to fight for their nation or their
national interest.
As the visitors travelled through the moonlit night, The dark and
double glasses of their coach did not offer much vision of the scorching
heat and the blowing sand. Ahmed possibly was the only one awake while
other passengers were asleep. The Air conditioning was more chlling than
conditioning. At one of the stations, in the middle of Thar desert falling in
the Indus flood plains. The paltform was almost deserted barring the Tea
Stall and some other Railway staff. It was very hot and sticky outside.
Ahmed took few steps to the coach behind. He saw the TTE was trying to
shoo away a newly wed couple travelling unauthorised in the reserved
compartment by dodging him. They must have hid themselves in the toilet
when he took his normal checking.
The young man asked him for forgiveness and pleaded again and
again his poor self. The man was having an ordinary ticket. There was just
one coach and the people inside were packed like sardines right upto the
gate. The young man a Sindhi couple wanted his bride to travel in bit of
comfort. The TTE did not relent. Finally the young man tookoff his white
turban and try to put the same next to his feet. All the while the young
bride kept her long veil over her head and stood just behind bride-groom.
The TTE was adamant. Although some passengers did woke up on
commotion but none intervened. He was a poor man and so they were.
Finally some sense prevailed as the engine honked , the TTE himself
came out. “Give me that gold ear ring which you are wearing and I will let
you travel !.” The bride held tight his arm as he lifted the same to remove
his ear-ring. The young man very gently removed her hand asked her to
The Riparian Neighbours41
board the bogey. As there were no vacant berths, they travelled next to the
space near the toilets.
The engined honked once again, although the signal was still red.
The TTE smilingly left the couple poorer than they were few minutes
before. Ahmed feeling disguisted ran towards the gates of coach, as the
train with gentle push began to leave. The signal was still red, but the train
gained speed. It was not very far off from this place that the deposed
Prime Minister was incarcerated in a small jail in the middle of the
desertix.
It must have been 9 am in the morning when they met their
waiting relatives at the Hyderabad (Sindh) station. It was tears of joy once
again. There was no visa for the place so this was the only way to meet
the relatives living in Hyderabad. They recognised each other from the
photographs, which their respective albums have pasted. There were few
colour ones which were gradually replacing the black and white ones.
Their arrival at Karachi was in the after noon. Since their’s
was a short stay, every day was full of meetings lunch at one end and
dinner at the other end of the city. This was the coastal city and the only
Port, which was the capital after the partition. It was here that the refugees
(Mohajirs) from the UP and later Biharis settled in bulk. They were the
people who were dominating the affairs politically and socially. However
the growing sectarian influence and the conflict was brewing in parts and
places. Certainly it was a city which was full of life but in contrast the
indisciplined motorists. One could not drive some distance without
coming across a major or minor accident on the roads. People drove as if
ix ‘My friend Zulfi’, By Piloo Modi, Book which documents the days of Murder Trial on deposed Prime minister Zulfiqar Ali Bhutto.
The Riparian Neighbours42
on a racetrack or a death track. Though full of affluence, its size of
squalor and slums, the garbage and sewarage were growing.
The amusement park at Clifton was their instant favourite
and they spent many evenings there. They were also told that the house of
the deposed Prime Minister was nearby. It was not a house but a massive
mansion, though only the females lived there. Men were incarcerated or in
self-imposed exile. The favourite Army officer of the deposed Prime
Minister even kept them interned as often as possible. The MRDx was
almost gaining momentum. Ironically those who opposed the 1973
constitution were now trying to lead movement for the restoration of the
same.xi Ahmed’s mother on pretext of social parties met many political
leaders who were in hiding. On such dinners only Ahmed and his mother
would go. None of their relatives wanted to be seen at those houses for
fear of surveillance. It was general impression that this was a tough and
long fight for democracy. Many politicains and writers thought that geo-
politics favoured dictatorial regime in their country. It was a derogatory
proposition of democratic Nations validating dictatorial regimes in the
garb of International politics and their convenience.
x Movement for Restoration of Democarcy.xi ‘Daughter of the East’ by Benazir Bhutto.
The Riparian Neighbours43
PART-II
VISIT TO STATE OF JAMMU AND KASHMIR
The Riparian Neighbours44
Chapter-IV
The excercising troops indicated that the territories have changed and
the reminder about fierce nature of conflict. The passenger train carrying
Ahmed and his family passed over the small bridge above the excercising
troops, which were never intimidated by the rumblings of the rail-tracks. The
passengers pulled down the windows to prevent the rising dust-clouds from
choking them. Jammu was only two-three hour journey from Pathankot. The
Rail-tracks were recently extended under the Railway plan from Pathankot to
Jammu. The tracks upto Poonch and Srinagar were awaited as promised by
Union Ministry. The northern state of Jammu and Kashmir, having special
constitutional relationship and autonomy in the Federation.
The train suddenly stopped with a few jerks. The emergency brakes
were being applied .It finally came to halt .The train was slightly leaning on
the tracks. The topography made the tracks slant. Some got down other tried
to peep out of recently installed grills on the square windows.
"It is a cow, under the train ", someone shouted from outside. The
women sighed." It seems to be alive ", other one shouted. The women with
folded hands thanked god. Cow being a scared animal and many passengers
were on a pilgrimage. There was a commotion when finally the Rail guards
reached the place alongwith the driver and the conductor of the train.
Indeed the cow had given birth to calf and was sitting right in the
middle of the tracks when the train was forced to stop for a while. "It is not a
new feature here the cows very often sit on tracks, yet the administration
seems to be careless", someone shouted at the railwaymen.
Meanwhile the owner of the cow reached, the vast expanse was once
their homeland where they roamed like nomads .The railway police helped to
remove the calf first and then asked the driver to reverse a little so that the
The Riparian Neighbours45
cow could be made to stand on its feet. It delayed the train full three hours,
which meant the passengers for Srinagar the state-capital will miss the trip as
the buses due would have left and those remaining will now only be able to
leave tomorrow. The authorities did not allow the buses and heavy vehicles to
move during the night on the National Highway connecting Jammu-Srinigar
and Leh .The passengers were asked to stay at a Dormitory nearby. It was a
Hotel cum Wedding Hall, with many Dormitories as well .It was spread over
four acres. There were other children as well .One of them a girl who also
joined Saif and Ahmed at the Table-Tennis table lying just below the stairway
leading to the Main hotel. Saif who was younger to Ahmed defeated him as
everybody praised Saif. Ahmed stood embarassed. This young girl was
Manali. She challenged Saif to a game. Ahmed immediately handed over his
raquet to Manali. She seemed to be an adept player using a pen-holder grip.
They introduced each other. Manali " My father is a PVSM"12. Manali with
great pride, continued "...he won it for his role in Ind-Pak war in 1971", she
paused and looked around as everyone listened "...when we passed Pathankot,
my father told me his regiment fought, just a few kilometers away from there
at the Chhamb-Jaurian sector. ...It was fierce and bloody battle ", bringing fear
to her facial expressions." Have you been to the region? " Saif while taking
the shot across the table."...Oh No "! exclaimed, as she lost the game to
Saif ,"...it is not a family-station..,moreover there is not much to see except
few villagers and occasional bombardment, light artillery fire ". Ahmed
picked the ball and handed over to Saif, who was winner-happy. "So where
are you heading for now",Ahmed, "Well, we were stationed in Delhi for
sometime but now we are heading for ladakh, our permanent home is in
Srinagar near Wular13 lake .It is very beautiful , do visit us ." ."you don't look
12 Gallantry award13 the lake which is source of fresh water supply to the town.
The Riparian Neighbours46
like a Kashmiri girl ", Saif smiled .Manali also smiled back ."So where are
you people heading for?." Manali asked. "Well, we are heading Srinagar and
thereon we will fly to Leh, where my father is currently posted supervising
BRO (Border Roads Organization) project .He is a Civil engineer with
expertise in Mountainous regions." Ahmed who was watching the game from
the side. He was standing at a small distance. "...So you are Delhi guys",
Manali. "...Well right now we are coming from our visit to Pakistan, we have
lot of uncles and aunts over there who migrated long back .." Saif . "Well,
how is the place? " Manali. "You have lost another game, anybody else .."
Saif while looking side-ways as if challenging others. Nobody wanted to
loose." It just happens to be your goose-luck", their elder sister Bilqis taunted
Saif from behind."Tell me dear (to Manali ), did he try his fancy tricks ,"
pointing towards Ahmed. Everybody laughed at Ahmed's expense, with zero
costs ."Aapa(elder sister) ,I haven't annoyed you once, yet you taunt me" . "Oh
dont take it seriously Ahmed ", Manali continued " Didi (elder sister), you are
really pretty-faced and so kind ". Everybody then dispersed, Manali found a
new friend in Bilqis. Next day both families decided to take the Luxury coach.
Lt.Col Ram Mattoo led the mantle, as the male member, he was assisted by
Ahmed in the chores involved. As there were no coolies at hhat time and no
mode of transport to carry the luggage from Hotel to Railway Stattion. So
peole had to wlk some300-400 metres on foot with their luggage. Though
many kept their luggage at the Railway cloak-room. They all got-up as others
around 4.00 am, by 5.30 am the buses begin to leave. Theirs was the first one
to leave. The break-fast and Tea was to be served on board at around 7.00am.
Tea was served twice .In less than twenty minutes the Coach was on the foot-
hills of the Mighty ranges of Siwaliks and thereafter Pir Panjal. Ahmed got
the odd seat and shared with a young British tourist. The splendour of
decidous forests advanced with the mix smell of Pine and Fir , the wet soil .
The Riparian Neighbours47
There was sudden drop in temperature, as the Coach advanced the 200 Kms
jouney on the youngest and most challenging mountains in Northern
India .They acted as the borders where number of times the fiercesome battles
were won and lost by many .The Coach initially drove at ahigh speed but soon
the speed dropped ,as the slopes grew steep and dangerous .The Hair-Pin
bands and the blind turns made the journey more adventurous . The shifting
moods of Sun who drew veil of clouds as they moved alongwith the wind .It
was only after sometime that the weather grew so cloudy, as if it would rain
any moment .Just when everybody was busy appreciating. The Coach
suddenly lost speed and came to abrupt halt at a blind turn. Anxious,
everybody looked in front it was an Oil-Tanker which had over-turned and the
diesel from the fuel tank was leaking. Luckily none was injured in the mishap.
The driver alongwith his helper were trying to stop the spillage which was
otherwise dangerous as the Tanker was still half-filled and would make the
flow of traffic impossible. With the help of few people the spillage was
stopped and the traffic started to move .The Highway was just wide enough to
let two vehicle’s pass through. The British Tourist however kept on reading
his novel, and would only occassionally look-up .On a halt at a small hamlet
for refreshments, where there were just two-three restaurants. Ahmed and his
family decided to eat at one of the restaurants which was somewhat clean and
well-furnished by local standards. It was slightly expensive as well. Only
foreign tourists and some Indians were present. The water supplied was
bottled. The potable water was not considered to be safe enough. Although the
local council of the area has diverted some of the small rivulets for the
Hamlets, yet they were not considered fit for the Tourists. On the opposite
table were two middle-aged German ladies who were enjoying mango fruit.
They were relishing the taste of it , while slicing it in pieces. Ahmed's family
was amused as eating mango this way was quite alien, the king of fruits was to
The Riparian Neighbours48
be sucked and eaten in bulk. They would eat buckets full of mangoes of
numerous variety. "Ammi, It is for the first time that we didn't have our share
of mangoes..." Bilqis, while sipping tea. "...Don't worry the vendors will keep
some for you in Delhi..."Ahmed snapped . "…Don't talk to your sister like
this..." Usamah. Manali and her parents also entered, they have purchased
small baskets of Oak tree bark."…she wanted some to gift her friends in
Srinagar, "Manali's mother . "Oh they are really nice ", Ahmed, while feeling
the surface of the basket."...Oh in Srinagar, there are so many shops but she
insisted she would purchase it from Patni Top, ...you see this is the highest
point that you have to cross to reach the valley", Manali's mother, who wore
typical Kashmiri Ear rings. They were held by a thin chain tuck into the hairs
at the nape. Meanwhile Manali's father who has befriended the young British
Tourist, Donald Turns.Donald was a young communications engineer and was
software developer as well. Donald soon dispelled his aloofness and thereafter
chatted with the two families. Donald was visiting India for the first time and
was here to see if Alps had any substitute .The fleece of sheep and beard of
the shepherd grew thin as the Coach descended to reach Banihall or the much
recently christened as Jawahar Tunnel. It was for the first time that the few
Police men belonging to the CRPF (Central Police Force) with their out-
dated .303 Enfield Rifles were found standing lazily .It was only in the
winters the Army would take over the Srinagar-Leh Highway. It was a
national Highway as the life-line of the State and its only road connection to
rest of India. The Air transport was not the reliable one. The tunnel ran for a
kilometer and half, it halved the journey-period, otherwise the journey earlier
would last for two days as is the case with the road travel further on between
Srinagar and Leh. It grew dark and darker only the noise of engine and
leaking roof could be heard. For few minutes the head-lights of the bus would
be the only source of light. Then at a far-end the beam of hope would light
The Riparian Neighbours49
and the innate mountain darkness would finally come to an end. "Oh, there is
snow all over the mountain and look at the valley , we must take some
photographs here .."Ahmed, the luxury Coach was parked at a corner to
enable the tourists, view it all. There were other buses, which would stop for a
while and then move on.
It was 2 o'clock in the afternoon, lunch packets were served here, with
tea as well."...Its time they should wear some cardigan or or wool, else they
will catch cold " Usamah to Manali's mother." Donald you know, this
"bloody-piece "of engineering bears Russian, French and Indian stamp on
Himalayas " ...Lt.Col.Ram Mattoo. "...I can sense that!…" in his accented
English ."I find it a nice track to trek along"...Donald. "...Bloody good idea"
Manali's father. “Please return to the bus we are getting late”, Bus conductor
shouted. The passengers hurried back to the Coach, reluctant to loose the tryst
with mountains. “...From here we descent till we reach the valley...” Lt.Col
Mattoo to Donald. Donald nodded.
As they descended it became to grow cloudy and started to drizzle.
The weather in the mountains was like the mood of a damsel. The small paddy fields
with green saplings stood half submersed in the logged fileds. “Rice is the staple diet
of the Kashmiris, only the poor eat wheat” ...Mattoo to Donald. “I doubt that part,
wheat must be expensive on account of transport costs involved” ...Donald.
“...Hmm.!, you have a point .”Ahmed who was listening to these new
friends .Donald turned towards him . “You have been prying young man”, smilingy,
Ahmed shrugged and pushed himself back in the seat .
After about an hour and a half, the bus stopped, it was the first taste of
Kashmiri crafts mandship when at Batot, the tourists alighted for as short break .The
place has become famous for the walnut and Oak wood baskets , small decoration
items . These items have become the souvenoirs for the tourists .Perhaps some of the
succesful face of the cottage industry . The colonial fiscal policies did not reach the
The Riparian Neighbours50
heights as it smothered the cottage industries in the Ganga plains . Ahmed and his
family also bought some baskets and other items . It was bit of a surprise to the first-
time visitors who found walnuts, cherries, apples, and other dry fruits to be so
cheap/Kg . The consumers to the same national market drank with luxury the fresh
apple juice marketed and prduced by the State-run Cooperative . The cool and
growing Pir panjal ranges were a chilly contrast to the some of the chartered tourist
from deep South India , Bengal and Gujrat . they have come prepared . They wore
thin linen clothings bt wrapped woolen shawls . The dark skin colour stood in sharp
contrast of the locals . Some have come to visit the Amarnath shrine .Thus not all
tourists were here on vacations .It was part of their pilgrimage to four pious points of
Brahmin order / fold .
The grazing flock of sheep, cattle and bearded shepherd with their long coats
feran as they were locally called. Their sticks would remind one of the ages when the
shepherds were the centre character of the society. They broke the desolate silence for
the forlorn travellers. The times changed but the tradition remained as it is. Many of
the village houses perched at the foor of the mountains were of mud and wooden
structure. For years though they still lived, the same. A distinct knock could be heard
in the shape and sound of incoming tourists who brought with them the historical
forces of change so inevitable and distinct .Yet the shepherd and his flock moved
from one top to another top of the mountains which were Pir panjal range. The bells
round the sheep necks wore the tradition of recognition and the breaking of silence.
These grasslands which depleted fast to the contours of the new horizon. The loud
shouts of the shepherds were the call to the distant shepherd or to his neighbours
across the mountains. The local transport was as yet primitive and slow as ever .The
administration was absent except for the brief tourist stop-overs. It was the matter of
discontent as the local populace wanted their share of the booty. A state whose
economy rested on tourism did not bother much about the native people. The
discontent was easy to be seen as one would just stroll away from the Tourists routes.
The Riparian Neighbours51
The locals this year were complainning against the Central government at Delhi as the
State government has failed to provide them the sapling of better variety it promised
last elections. The Panchayat elections were long over-due. The unique scheme of
local-bodies still had no constitutional sanction on holding the periodical elections
when due. The resentment was boiling as the less-sensitive kiosk-owner would
remind you by calling a tourist “from the downhill below”. At tmes one would be
uneasy to hear “Hindustani (India) government must do something for Kashmir.”
The coach reached the outskirts of the city of Srinagar the capital of the state
of Jammu and Kashmir .The palce was much publicised by the Bombay Films. It
made the chronic romantics feed on the real time Alpine beauty. Though not many
foreign tourists would compete it with any of Western tourist spot. It was an
Himlayan experience which were born out of the joining of Gondwana, with the
burial of Tethys sea. The tectonic movements were much beyond the quite valley,
which was full of lakes and beautiful Mughal gardens. The splendour of medieval
Nishat Bagh, the spring-water and the sight of Dal Lake from the heights of Chashme
Shahi . The spring-water of Chashme-Shahi was known and believed to have lot of
medicinal and curative values. Many a times when the Chashma would dry out,
people would take it as a bad-omen. It was much the same as the Bamboo-blooms in
the North-Eastern Parts of India. There also locals found it ominous when the food
would be scarce and drought and hunger would stalk the hill people.
Well indeed every fifty years when the Bamboo would bloom and the flowers
would rise in all the forest, the wild rats population would double, consequently the
Steppes of the cultivation would be burrowed out. Much in 1949 the infamous
drought would cause such hardships to the remote-centered populace that it took the
shape of a legend. So the generations by word of mouth took it as ominous sign.
Chashme Shahi,(Royal Spirngs) carried the symptomatic value for the people
of the Kashmir Valley. The drying of natural spring a geological wonder was both
The Riparian Neighbours52
considered an important indicator of potable water situation in expert terms and so
would the believers interpret it.
At a distance stands the Pari mahal( Fairy Palace). It once housed the royalties of the
times but now stood desolate. This was one of the haunted sight attraction in
Srinagar. Ahmed and his family visited the desolate looking structure. It bore
semblance to a young widow, a cursed place. Local legend would support many more
fables with each passing generation. Though now the fable-tellers were repleted by
the stories of terror, torture. In the Umbra of such events, there was no place for
passive fables.
“here we are!” , Donald, “Finally..” ,Ahmed . “Was it so tiring”, Manali to
Ahmed, “He can feel so anytime,” Bilqis, Ahmed stared back at her with usual
contempt .As everyone alighted, Mattoos prepared to leave as the orderly came with
the Army Jonga. It was the most reliable of the small multi-utility vehicles for the
officers and mounted guns as well. These vehicles though American in origin was
quite a popular off-Roader with the rural masses. The choice of Ownership of
vehicles, limited by paucity of the Makes and Brands. These disposed-off vehicles
were indeed very popular here. These vehicles were quite unlike those reinforced
vehicles, which the US Army would never even think of disposing (should it fall in
wrong hands). However the Indian Army vehicles were not the same choicest ones. It
was as susceptible in the war zone as any vehicle would be on the road. The poor
budget Army would make do with a 14jawan‘s life. Moreover, it was where the
democracy never discussed the life of the soldier. It was a taboo subject as far as the
Parliament as a forum stood. The spirit of nationalism was to narrow in meaning and
expression for the quest of reasoning and accountability.
14 Soldier is referred as jawan (young)
The Riparian Neighbours53
The off-Roaders, worked absolutely fine in the rough environment of less than
40% metallic road statistics. A meagre sense of proud and achievement for those who
considered Infrastructure as the 15New Temples.
Though the ‘New Temples…’ were not so popular with the increasing batch
of Civil Engineers who were being churned out of the Indian Universities without a
sense of practical application of their scientific abilities. The boost of nationalism was
to inspire these young men. These young men would often fall prey to the culture of
the mixed economy, where the policy was fired by the leads of socialist ideals.
Though the end was in the hands of the profit-seekers. The nexus was already gaining
the rough terrain of Corruption in all these major Public construction establishments
and projects as well.
15 Pt.Jawahar lal Nehru, first Prime Minister would refer it so “….”
The Riparian Neighbours54
Chapter IV
The families bid each other good-bye. Ahmeds’father also arrived, the
reunion of family after a long time left each overjoyed and overwhelmed by the
moment.
“Assalam-o-alaikum (peace on you)...” greeted all each other, as in unison.
“Saghir, He is Donald, we met on our journey, …a Systems engineer
(looking towards him)…and is currently surveying for his consultancy firm, the
scenario here”, Usamah to her husband Saghir. Donald and Saghir shook hands.
Saghir introduced himself “Well it is nice to see somebdy with such
expertise. It is much required here. But on the other hand, we have learned to manage
things. National Highway, by which you journeyed on to valley and beyond is being
managed and maintained by us (PWDxii) and BRO(Border Roads Organization) as
well .
“…Donald where are you putting up”, Saghir (father), “...I think I will prefer
to be in the camps”. He took out a Tourist Hand-out from his satchel. “...You have
your reservation”, Saghir asked. “...Oh yes, I made it, at Delhi itself ”, Donald. I must
say it has been long time Begum16 since I went for camping and trekking, so what do
you say”. “Oh! all through your life you have been living in camps and on remote
sites” ,Usamah, “..See wives will be wives…” Saghir chipped in.
The sequence was soon over. The design and architecture of the Inter-state terminus
bore striking resemblance to all those around. PWD continued lot of colonial designs,
but with the distinction that the same was copied for the cheap and sultry origins. The
ornate design of the Railway stations was lacking here. As the railways have come to
be the main stay of the Colonial transport. The PWD continued lot of colonial
designs, but were the tasteless and cheap copy of the originals. So much so, for the
16 Urdu for lady or wife.xii Public Works Department
The Riparian Neighbours55
sultry origins of the Road transport ever since the colonial period. The latest
inspiration in the Architecture, being the Russian modern-frugal designs. Most in the
crudest form ,shape and appeal. The whole design and concept being “simply without
any aesthetic appeal”. Much of the PWD work was bare utility and shamelessly
stripped frugality. The ornate designs of the Railway station were missing here, all
over the sub-continent.
The strength of colonial legacy was so strong that the Civil servants never
imagined the need of State (of Jammu and Kashmir) which ran its life-line; Tourism,
solely on Road transport. The backbone of the valley of Kashmir was not railways but
the Roadways. The thought obviously never crossed supine babus (civil servant)
mind. The administrative fatigue was obvious to anyone. The domestic lot took it as
their fate, with the foreigners it passed as poor-country or in more sophisticated terms
‘lack of resources’. None are perhaps correct to suggest. The bane was reprehensible
attitude for change or more subtle expression ‘innovation’.
Railways had indeed become the mainstay of the Indian life, and supply of
Tourist to the valley as well till Jammu. The colonial impressions were less evident in
Jammu, which was much recent addition to the cap of Indian Railways (a government
enterprise). The enterprise tracks were burdened by the whole Ministry and an elite
Army of Civil Servants, coupled with the Board Members, who acted as stooge of
the government, rather being loyal to the role, which they undertook.
Indeed the average kilometrage never increased in terms of Colonial Vs
Republic times and the variation in demands and objectives. The wooden carriages
were long gone but the steam loco was still in great demand some of them as old as
forty-fifty years. The diesel loco was evident for long haulage and electric loco were
just being introduced.
Much to surprise, the ubiquitous beggars did not bother the tourists here in
Srinagar. Either the Bus terminus was not the right place or there were just too few of
The Riparian Neighbours56
them to be noticed. So the Road transport was left literally in the ‘dirt-tracks’. These
‘dirt-tracks’ were to be there for the Bullock carts which then connected the remote
villages some half a million independent clusters from deep forests and middle of
rivers to the beautiful plains with green; the superb green and fertile farm lands of old
densely inhabitated Ganges.
It wasn’t the Colonial British but the Americans whose colonies saw the real
‘Benzene power’ under aegis of ‘Detroit City’. The quest for ‘North Sea’ Brent came
much after the colonies turned to the American giants who wrote new luxurious and
somewhat expensive History of Road masters. Free ways and speeding were not the
policy consideration or priority for the 17‘pedestrian economy’ with 18‘bicycle
merchants’.
The impressive Raj Hills surrounding the city of Srinagar, fill the background
to the Bus Terminus. The sprawling foot of the mountain had the evening sun spread
all over making their Marigold top.
Interestingly the Inter-State Bus terminus was choked as was designed to
accommodate about 20-30 medium size buses i.e. each having a capacity of 30
passengers. The traffic multiplied without corresponding increase of space and
management. It was unique in the sense that it had massive gates and an entrance
befitting a Fort. Like many Bus Terminus in Hilly regions some of the Parking space
was covered by a Tin shade.
However the inadequacy of the Parking space for the State-run and controlled
Road transport was nowhere a concern for the administrative set-up. Tourism was
never blooming, like this at any given time in the memorable past. The place was
simply full of domestic and foreign tourists. Surprisingly, the serenity and resplendent
city of Srinagar was so natural in its location, where the Urban setup and its charm
17 Description of Indian economy18 ibid
The Riparian Neighbours57
was gradually catching-up. The wooden houses were though there as if to deny the
concrete its due entry so synonymous with Urbane attitudes.
The administrative apathy and lack of imagination was obvious from the
point of alighting. Although, the beautiful-looking shy faces were hardly ominous. It
was difficult to understand how that calm and warm faces could be relentless and
inflexible in their political orientation. It was as if this society inherited the obsession,
which was only facilitated time and again by the Delhi vicissitudes.
The parallel lies in the stock markets when the ‘Big crash’ would make
everybody go broke and bleed each face white, within a decade. The situation in
Afghanistan and the CIA infiltration in the valley were, only discussed in
knowledgeable and establishment circles. This uneasiness behind the softness of the
inhabitants of the valley would become very obvious to any keen eye. Walk a few
metres away from the Bus Terminus and the main Tourist Taxi stand, Para military
forces were to be found alongwith the CRPF19 patrolling in small numbers. The
presence of the Central security forces for the management of the law and order was
an indication enough to draw inferences and sour conclusions. Most of the
government buildings including the Radio and TV stations wore a run-down look, as
if the administration was cash-strapped.
“…This is jhelum20 in the night.” Saghir, the family stood next to the banks of
the jhelum on the Lal chowk21 side. The splashing of water from the rising
under-current was more obvious with the blowing of breeze. The house-boats
wore the ‘To-let’ board with just one or two bulbs lit inside these house-boats.
They all were beautifully painted and most were well maintained. The family
after initial hesitation stepped inside the dark of ‘22shikaras’, their first of
many rides and regular mode of transport. These small boats were very shaky.
19 Central Reserve Police Force( after Crown Reserve Police)20 Name of the (one of five)rivers flowing through Srinagar, Kashmir valley into Pakistan.21 A Central commercial zone in city of Srinagar.22 A small boat tapering on both ends, with a small canopy of straw and ply-wood.(water-bird).
The Riparian Neighbours58
The steps leading to the banks were very slippery and dangerous, in the dark.
The Public lighting worked only till beginning of the steps. The two giant
White-Mercury Lamps standing on top of the steps, simply did not work. The
boat-men (shikarawalas) would show the torch-light soliciting the customers.
This went on till 11.00 pm thereafter the Banks were closed to these shikaras.
These boatmen who live on the banks nearby in somewhat modest version of a
house-boat called Dongas23. These smaller House-boats wore a run-down
look. The beautiful faces of the women and children inside carried typical shy
attitude, coupled with strange welcoming look. The whole dingy ambience
inside was hardly repulsive. The spell of Quest for 24Kashmiri and
Kashmiriyat was too immortalised by politics, films and international focus.
23 Smaller and cheaper version of floating houses on the banks of Jhelum.24 Kashmiri(kashmir local,) kashmiriyat( life and culture of Kashmir, irrespective of religion)
The Riparian Neighbours59
Chapter V
(The muddy and sluggish Jhelum)
The muddy water of river Jhelum or Avesta25, was to soon welcome
the Indian Prime Minister Mr.Morarji Desai, who was heading the first
National opposition government at the Centre. The government of Jammu and
Kashmir was very much interested in the ‘New Janata26 government’ which
was possibly more supportive of the Kashmiriyat 27. The Central-State
relationship has not been cordial. Indeed the word cordial is euphemistic in its
connotation and expression. The movement for constitutional autonomy traces
its genesis on the limitation of the ‘National Government’28 at the Centre. This
was the transition phase. The constituents of this government comprised of the
extreme right forces (dominated by the RSS and Jan Sangh) and extreme left
and Centre-left forces. Of course the Indian National Congress dominated the
National Council. The transformation was later aptly called ‘Raj to Raj’29. The
death of a rightist leader Shyama Prasad Mukherjee at the jail in Kashmir, was
the turning point in the nascent Indian democracy. The populous lone
predominantly Muslim State saw the aggressive politics in post-partition
trauma. The number of decades of Single party (Indian National Congress)
rule, Bangladesh War(1971)and the Emergency era in 1975-77, added only to
woos of the movement for Constitutional autonomy for Kashmir.
The people of Jammu and Kashmir formed societies and organizations
to support the autonomy movement. The attempt to gather international
support for the movement and their cause was thought integral to their cause.
Interestingly, it was the Kashmiri Pandits who were also top advisors with the 25 It is referred to as Avesta by Kashmiri Pandits.26 Means public in Hindi and also the name of the ruling coalition.27 Kashmiriyat is also used for the movement for Political autonomy within Indian Union of States as envisaged under provision Article 370 of the Indian Constitution.28 The national political coalition from 1947-50 ( Council-in-Constituent Assembly)29 Raj to Raj is a title of book by Australian D.A.Low
The Riparian Neighbours60
National Cabinet on Policy matters. However the issues and causes underwent
colossal change with passage of time and changing South Asian equations.
The designation of the Executive Head and Governor (President’s Agent)
were changed from Prime Minister to Chief Minister and Sadar I Riyasat to
Governor. The Central government was sceptical about the Constitutional
autonomy for the States, so this was the test of centrifugal federal strength.
The provision of Article 370 was however retained, which meant all always
passed by the Parliament were to be approved (ratified) by the State Assembly
for its applicability to the State subjects.
This provision in its practical application saw the dismissal and arrest
of the tall kashmiri face, Sheikh Abdullah; popularly known as Sher-e-
Kashmir (Lion of Kashmir). The man was arrested and jailed for all sorts of
political reasons. His government was dislodged number of times under the
same Constitutional provision for dismissal of State governments. The
provisions of colonial document termed Government of India Act, 1935, were
directly imported as the Republic came into Act. This strengthened the Single
party rule. The killing of opposition (Communist) led government in the State
of Kerala in 1950s was the test of Constitutional intentions. State of Jammu
and Kashmir was nevertheless invincible for the Indian National Congress, the
then ruling majority. The political affluence was overwhelming and blinding
for those, who carried Constitutional dyslexia. It was very recently that the
government by Sheikh Abdullah was installed following an accord with the
Central government in power. Although the Sheikh unwillingly acted on the
comands of the Central government to implement the directions during the
Constitutional emergency era. The elections were suspended for more than
two years. However Sheikh Abdullah’s party rule was somewhat softer image
of Emergency-rule of Indira Gandhi. He detained the leaders of out-lawed
organizations, but released them no sooner on parole. He was not very harsh
The Riparian Neighbours61
with the newspapers, which were banned and banished during that era. One
interesting example being of regional newspapers, experiencing less and less
censorship during the emergency powers exercised by the Union government.
The union government would very often point out the “lapses”30
This movement inside underwent glorious change, with its widening of
political and constitutional struggle. The Simla Agreement between Indian
and Pakistan and the Article 270 in the 1973-Constitution of Pakistan further
broke the Political foetus of seperation and militant movement in the State of
Jammu and Kashmir.
The raising of the Army regiment from the people of the State of
Jammu and Kashmir was the point of integration with the Indian federation.
Then how did the Jhelum become muddy, and Dal lake infested by wild
growth whereby choking the fresh water supply to the capital Srinagar? ,
asked many.
Even if the natural serenity left spell-bound those who came from the
plains to the oldest valley in the New and active Himalayas. The river has
crafted its way through the treacherous mountainous tracts of Upper
Himalayas and was young and vibrant. Although the silt in the valley made
this tributary of Sindh (Indus) sluggish. The river ran parallel into the present
line of actual control in the Southern Kashmir. Kashmir valley itself has been
divided into two parts for the administrative convenience. Equally interesting
story is about the names of the district as well. Since a large tribal part of
Kashmir valley and Skardu are under control of Pakistan since 1947 any name
of the district and place having nomenclature similarity would be rechristened.
The example of Anantnag is interesting. The divide betweeen administration
and local was obvious here. The District administration for all purposes would
refer the same as Anantnag, the locals and the Police would refer to it as
30 line is an extract from book ‘The Judgement’ by Kuldip Nayar
The Riparian Neighbours62
Islamabad. Thus the show of local defiance and anti-establishment views were
always strong. The blow was dealt when the local body elections were
regularly rigged and then after 1979, this never happened. The simmering
displeasure for the lack of participatory approach was evident in the rural
Kashmir. It was less in the urban settings was less obvious. The struggle in
Kashmir was more for Participatory role for the majority of the Kashmiris.
The yoke of being a subject of the Maharaja and then of Central
government in Delhi was too much for the poor shepherds. Thus the visit of
the Prime Minister who headed the opposition-led coalition was a welcome
change. Although his coalition’s important constituent was Jan Sangh31, which
was against the Constitutional Autonomy to Kashmir or to any union
constituent of Indian Republic. Also not withstanding that the Prime Minister
has himself been the former Indian National Congress member. The state
needed funds badly especially for the flood-management and extension of the
Salal Hydro-Project, and some other small Hydro projects in South Kashmir.
While the North of Kashmir valley was better, it was the Southern Kashmir
which required attention.
Ever since the crunching defeat in the ’71 war, the autonomy move
was looking to inward solution than an international or regional one. Peace
even an intervening one often encourage colossus. The pilgrim tourist was on
rise to this paradise version of heaven. Most of the domestic tourists also
visited the Amarnath Cave32. It required special management and funds. Army
here too undertook the primary duty, which was better equipped to handle the
avalanche and unpredictable weather in the area.
On the day of Prime Minister’s visit the schools were open but the
children were to collect at the Banks of river Jhelum, where the Chief Minster
31 an extreme right-wing political face of Hindu fundamentalist organizations.32 It is a holy shrine of Hindus which houses a Shiva symbol.
The Riparian Neighbours63
and he were to sail in a Giant mechanised Army Boat. The Boat was well
decorated and the children from all over Srinagar and even distant places
came to wish the duo and their friendship for Kashmirs’ future. There aren’t
many states where even children are so politically sensitised.
Of course the security was tight and Intelligence people were all over
the city. The national tri-colour was hoisted on both sides of the River. The
Boat also carried the national tri-colour. The people had high hopes from the
new Prime Minister. The new Prime Minister promised Central-assistance. It
was after many decades that the Political heads at two nodal points of power
shared the common platform. It was a scene of high expectations that day.
Even the vernacular Newspapers for the first time carried the front-page
photographs next day. It was rare, the Autonomy movement has been
sustained on the basis of the Urdu press, mostly local. The national English
and vernacular dailies were not considered important and suffered lack of
credibility amongst its own readers. The only state where the Administration
communicated in Urdu language/script as the local language was still evolving
into an administrative language. That day local University youth were also
present, they wanted the leaders to reminded of the rising unemployment, lack
of opportunities for the qualified youth.
For next three-four days the two leaders visited the various parts of
Kashmir valley, Border posts, and distant Ladakh region as well. Saghir, went
alongwith the duo everywhere, as he was the key advisor to the State
government on Hydro-projects and the Road construction. So the family
watched the TV and made cuttings from the newspapers, for record. The
Doordarshan(state TV channel) would broadcast the National Program from
Delhi for some more than three hours in the evening alone. However, it was
the PTV or the Pakistan Television which was more popular for the program
content, the entertainment value, than for anything else. It was difficult to jam
The Riparian Neighbours64
these waves as the Indian TV news was watched in the bordering area falling
under Pakistan by equal enthusiasm. In the age of information black-out the
citizens on each side of the border would rely for authenticity of claims, on
daily service by BBC Radio for South Asia in its regional languages. It was as
if an arbitrator of truth or veracity of truth.
During the stay, it was also announced the remote rural areas run by
the village Panchayats(local body) would be provided TV sets under a scheme
and implementation of community oriented programs on literacy and health.
However, very soon the first-opposition-led government at Centre would fall
and their leaders would suddenly die. The promises would also die the
premature death with the wind of Political change, the situation would also
deteriorate till it becomes the cauldron of South Asia.
The Riparian Neighbours65
Chapter VI
Soon after the Prime Minister left the family started their visit,
to the valley and beyond.
“Abbu …we would like to go to Pahalgam first…” Bilqis to her father,
“…No no, we go to Sonmarg first.” Ahmed.
“…Does he has to necessarily oppose me...”, Bilqis,
“...Well, we will go all places, you will travel according to my
itenary…, that is if you want me to accompany you people”… Saghir, their
father tried to calm the situation.
“Oh you can certainly be on vacations with us…” Usamah, as Saif
amused looked at his mother. “…Oh ho, you know it is not possible, here we
only get the three months beginning from March to work as fast as possible on
the new projects. The rains here are really bad, the whole system
chokes…”Saghir helplessly blurted. “..You have simply become a workaholic
person,...” Usamah smiled with resignation. The phone rang in middle, Saif
rushed to receive it . “Abbu,…it is Gautam uncle!,…” , “Well, did you say
Salaam! to him , Saghir to Saif. “Assalam o alaikum..” , Saif promptly spoke
at the receiver “Well Guatam , so what is the program like…” Saghir talking
to the caller on the other end. “...the car is here, Vakil is waiting…”Bilqis
called from the main door. The main entrance door was beautifully carved, a
genuine Oak with Walnut engravings. The rest of the walls were panelled and
well varnished giving a natural gloss and live texture. The main entrance door
at the ground floor had massive rooms including one Master Bed room and a
guest room. The whole house was a tasteful mix of concrete and wood. It was
made of a building technique, which was very common in the valley.
However the modern urbane element of caution, was sadly missing . Many
The Riparian Neighbours66
many years later would such a design be the common cause of tension
between locals and the security forces. In late 1980s when the militancy was
on the rise the security forces while searching for the extremists, would fire at
the houses, which would immediately catch fire and the houses in entire row
would get extinguished. The militants would also burn down the residential
buildings of the senior state government and central government officials, as
the same were made out of wood. It would pain all those who have spent their
times in the relaxed surroundings of those magnificent structures. The
premonition was not to come to the people, in the years of mild struggle. The
‘enemy’ across was only recuperating from the displaced indentures. The
State government would fall as often, with the political saga turning into the
endless plight of norms. The brokers from major political houses in the state,
hastened the turmoil and dissent. The death of State figure who was projected
the modern founder of Valley, left many aspiring faces, to bicker.
Now it was almost a fortnight since the family arrived in Kashmir
valley. The first week was spent in visiting the local sites in Srinagar itself.
The most memorable of memories for the Khans was the Sunday when the
family took Gul Muhammad’s new shikara to Dal lake , all the way from river
Jhelum. They spent the day in the PWD House boat. This visit also enabled
them to peep into the backwaters of famous Dal lake where the locals would
grow the vegetables in the water itself, to sustain. The hydro-plants or the
aqua-plants was the novelty for the children who saw it for the fist time. The
lovely Lotus floating in hundreds in the silent back-waters of the lake made
one feel in harmony with nature. Small children in their small boats, as if
tailor made. Though some even handled the bigger ones. All attired in their
The Riparian Neighbours67
traditional cap and Shalwar kamiz 33. These small boats were the floating
grocery shops. The locals would put all the utility items, though mostly food
items in their small boats and sell them around to the locals and the tourists
who lived in the Lake and around. These sort of ‘mobile-shops’ catering to
tourists even carried some imported merchandise to suit the need of the
foreign tourists staying in the House-Boast. Interestingly, House-Boats carried
typical English names like (Cozy Home, Max House Boat and so on). The
interiors of some of them were tastefully decorated. Many of the Europeans
saw similarity between these House-boats and the community living in boats
and ferries on Rhine, Danube and small Channels in parts of England. The
same did give some insight into the life of these Water-borne locals. The room
service was also provided by the owner of the House-Boat. People would
come to sell the carpets and embroidered scarves, firan(long-coat) and other
clothings.
“…Abba, I would like to buy some of those”..Bilqis, “…We will go to
the village nearby in Bren on our way to Dachigam reserve.34”, said the
father. On their return from Dal lake tour in shikara, there was storm, where
the shikara become unstable and Gul Muhammad took it near a houseboat for
safety. The wind was so strong that the thatched top blew over. However this
was recovered as these ‘Tops’ were designed to float, rather then sink from
their weight. The children and wife were scary, as it was a novel experience
for them. Saghir and the boatman, Gul Muhammad try to calm each other.
Ahmed sat in front of the shikara, he was learning the art of rowing a shikara
while in front. The shikara with two seats facing each other, one was very
small and not so comfortable one. The other one was more like a bed, the
luxury Shikaras were different from the ordinary ones. These luxury versions
33 Loose trousers and long shirt worn all through central Asia , northern parts of Indian Sub-continent, more recently was declared national dress of Pakistan by CMLA.34 A game reserve housing mainly Himalyan black bears and spotted deers and some Tiger.
The Riparian Neighbours68
were slightly more stable than the ordinary ones. In the Dal lake itself there
were few shikaras which were only meant for the film makers, documentary
makers. Such being there permanent demand. These shikaras were white in
colour, they looked absolutely photogenic in picturesque scenario of the Dal
Lake .The charges were also slightly higher. Although there were hardly any
tariff charts displayed. The storm lasted some hour and a half, Dal lake which
on average saw such storms two times a day during the summers. It was more
likely to occur at noon hours or at around 4.00 o’clock in the afternoon.
It was a Sunday so, there was incredible rush on all spots in and
around the Dal Lake. The place in center, the char cMarinar, was full of
visitors. The lovely old cMarinar (maple) were believed to be very old. The
shikaras jostled to dock at the ends of this small island within the lake. It was
late evening when the family reached the Jhelum banks towards Raj Nagar.
The dikes at the Dal Lake and the River Jhelum would last close at 6.00pm in
the summers. Then the waters would rise and the flow would grow much
faster due to breeze. It was memorable experience for the family. They also
realised that the Dal lake was dying due to pollution and weeds, silt was also
increasing. State administration was too corrupt to be tamed. Saghir himself
expressed helplessness to Gul Muhammad when asked about the cleansing
drive for Dal Lake, saying “the State administration was very wary of any
comments on state of affairs by the deputed Central government officials,
particularly if these officials were not of local origin.”
The next day the family left for their family friends in a diesel Jeep.
The house was situated at the bottom of a small hill at the banks of Dal lake,
The house was so angularly perched, where both Sunrise and Sunset presented
equally breath-taking view. This Mansion had a Glass-house for winters and
also a fore ground and a kitchen garden, it was spread in an acre of land. The
house had romantic antecedents. The family of Bhats, narrated how they came
The Riparian Neighbours69
to puirchase the place and the house. Yunus Bhat, friend of Saghir
reminiscingly said, “….well, Saghir saheb you see it was some ten years back
that we came together to the place which you can see from here…” every
body looked at the lonely steps leading to the Dal lake at the far end of the
lake towards North of Srinagar, he continued “….in Kashmir the boy and girl
meet before they get married , so I and Midhat were sitting here at those steps,
you cant actually see them from here, but this wall has a small opening there
at about 100 metres or so, she said…..” looking at his wife who smiled back,
“…aaaa..so she said, Can you build a house here..,” he then paused for a
moment and continued “..I replied why not Dear!, so thereafter when we got
married we both saved money and took loan to build this house..” . “ Wow..
Saghir, this is romantic, you are never in such a mood”, Usamah was quick to
retaliate. Saghir as usual smiled while lighting his Havana-Cigar. He kept
back his gold-plated Bugatti Lighter in his Cigar case, which was also gold-
plated with a Black-base. The Cigar case had his name Saghir inscribed on it.
The case had Dunhill printed on it . “…Oh why do you have to smoke every
now and then…” Usamah protested. Saghir gave usual stoic silence. Ahmed
came into the main room with Bhat’s daughter of same age. “...We caught
these tadpoles…” Rukaiyya to everyone in the room.
“Oh….…(as if reminede of something)the visit to Trout farm is a must
we will serve you the fried ones for lunch” exclaimed Saghir. “When we visit
Dachigam Reserve, we will go to the Trout farm, the cooperative center is
making profit, I suppose…” Saghir, “ well for now yes…,nobody knows the
future, all these movements and initiatives start-off well, then nothing
sustains, see the sericulture, the potential remains unexploited”, lamented
Midhat, who was a Zoologist with the Cooperative department in Srinagar.
“…Children , have kahwa..” this was Midhat’s mother, she wore
tarditional scarf and embroidered brown long-coat, her face wrinkled, long
The Riparian Neighbours70
nose, very fair, average height. As the kahwa 35was served , with the dry-
fruits, Ahmed and Rukaiyya took their cups and went out from the front door,
Bilqis looked at them smilingly. Midhat and Usmamah also watched the duo
going out.
“ I will come back in an hour or so then we will go to chashm e shahi
in the evening and if there is some time then to Pari Mahal…” Saghir, said
while getting up from the sofa in the lounge. It was late noon, and time for
prayers, very feeble notes of Aazan36 passed the lonely stretch of boulevard
and the thick glasses of the glass-room. Every one rolled out the prayer mats
facing westwards towards Kibla37. The faithful would kneel five times a day.
Ahmed and Rukaiyya soon became good friends. Saif also went
alongwith them. Bilqis made friend with Midhat’s younger sisters. Midhat’s
mother and her college-going sisters and a younger brother who was so very
fond of guitar lived in the same house on the top-most floor. The house was
designed like any modern American or English houses with sloping rooftop.
The house had a unique Environment friendly power arrangement. It had solar
energy system. The Solar panels were housed in the backyard where the
kitchen garden would end in to the massive hillock structure, at the base of
which the House was constructed. There were some six houses with an
exclusive boulevard which were perched at the bottom of the Rock. It was
kind a fashionable up-market place for villas. These privileged few however,
were always scared of security as the turbulent times in the valley would come
unannounced and without any forewarning. Most of the lot still preferred to
stay in the dingy inners of the Srinagar. Although the new areas have come-up
35 Local herbal drink, can be taken with lemon or without it, with resins, walnuts, pistachios and saffron, all mixed up.36 Call for prayers37 Four-walled structure built by Prophet Abraham and rebuilt by Prophet Muhammad (PBUH) in a mosque called Haram(Prohibited) sharif situated in Mecca. Its walls are covered by the Black veil, which has the entire verses of Holy Quran Gold and Silver.
The Riparian Neighbours71
gradually like one of the prime areas of Raj Nagar where Ahmed and his
family were staying.
That day Bhats and Khans visited the Pari mahal, believed to the
haunted place. Perhaps the local guides invented the haunted destination tag to
make it center of attraction, as it look bit desolate and remote from other
famous and visited destinations in the city of Srinagar. Later the families
came to visit the famous spring waters which had the medicinal and curative
value called chashm e shahi. The locals revered it as the blessed and ominous
sign of the well-being of the State of Kashmir. The slowdown in flow of
spring-water was bad-omen. On each occasion people of the valley had to
suffer the harsh times. The harsh political, weather or any other community-
ills, like outbreak of cholera, etc. The Kashmiri locales were very sensitive
about the places. The Islam practiced by them was a populist version than
would appeal to a purist. The tradition of Bud Shah the sufi ruler of Kashmir
and verses of Habba Khatoon moulded the edicts and observation of the
Kashmiri piety and behaviour.
“… Well see that lone tree up there…!” Saghir said to everyone as
they sat at the Table in the Restaurant at the Chashme Shahi. “…Well you can
certainly see other trees, which are lined-up at the top edges of the Hills,”
Usamah quipped.“…Saghir is a kind of loner and he enjoys it that way
Mrs.Khan…, though he is very warm and generous with his friends and foes
alike…” intervened Bhat , a smile on his face. It was dusk and the street-lights
around the Dal lake lit one after the other, forming a huge Halo around the
dark-hole.
The view from the Chashme Shahi towards the area of Bren was just
magnificent. The rush of the locals and the tourist alike increased as the
darkness fell around. More lights and mercury lamps lit up. The entry towards
the spring-waters was however closed. The children played at the grounds and
The Riparian Neighbours72
at small amusement park in the same vicinity. The newly wed couples
thronged these secluded places. Although these sites were hardly secluded, as
the domestic tourist knew no other Hill destination to escape scorching heat
and blazing summer sun in the plains. At the distant Mountain was the lone
mercury lamp alongwith a red warning lamp of Radio Trasmitter which was
visible from a distance, this was the Shakracharya top.
The family walked down the Chashm-e-shahi top, as the Bhat’s lived
only at a walking distance. Next day the Bhat’s and Khans went to Dachigam game
reserve where they were to stay for two-days. The small Jeep was packed with the
Ahmed, Rukaiyya, Saif and Bilqis constantly chatting with each other as the elders
also talked about each others family. “ I think we will stopover for sometime at the
Cooperative house for break-fast, …yesterday itself I asked for the arrangements ,
Lakshman Bhan would be present he is my Asst.Project officer”, Midhat told. “ya ya ,
we know you wanted to spare yourself the trouble of making break-fast for all of
us…hihihaha….”Bhat and everybody laughed at Midhat’s expense. “…In any case
you never have break-fast so early, so don’t you complain please…huhuhu…”
Midhat said jocularly. “...aaa the trout-farm, would be in the way, hmmmm…, small
detour I suppose..” Saghir who was sitting in front with Saif in his lap. He continued,
“…you wanted to cover the cooperative movement here Usamah for your feature
item, why don’t you write about these…,” “Yes, it can be a good story, last night I
discussed the same with Midhat”, Usamah looking towards her left where Midhat
was sitting. Usamah was just behind driving seat.
“Well, sister, the English and National Press including vernacular press does not give
adequate coverage to the development activities. There is some trend in the National
Press that only Political news is published and no development news or issues are
highlighted…” Bhat said to Usamah who was sitting towards the other end.
The Riparian Neighbours73
“Sir, that is the Cooperative House”, driver said to Saghir. Saghir looked
towards his far right. So did everybody. The Cooperative House was some an hour’s
drive and was situated so with the mountains forming massive back-drop with lush
green Pines, firs growth.
The family had break-fast in the lawns, it was bit cold from Srinagar and
everybody took out light pull-overs, shawls on their shoulders. Here the typical
Kashmiri break-fast was served. Naan, with butter, apricot jam, dry-fruits mixed in
kahwa. The food for lunch was also prepared and packed over here for them to be
served at the Dachigam guest-house. It was 10.00 o’clock in the morning when they
left for the reserve some hour and a half journey.
The journey in the largely uninhabited plains where paddy fields dotted all
over along with the orchards at distance, some saffron yards also past by, sideways.
After while everybody dosed off. While Ahmed, Saif, Rukaiyya and Bilqis sat in the
boot of Jeep. The jeep was not the usual design found, otherwise. It was a new
design, though small but was better designed in its seating arrangement. The luggage
was perched on top. Every time Saif would getup to see the view from the side panes
of the boot while other would have to just stretch their necks to see outside. Ahmed
and Rukaiyya became good friends although Bilqis found the situation odd. For once
the brother and sister, Ahmed and Bilqis were resigned to peaceful existence of each
other. It was more due to compulsion than any genuine change of heart.
It was at the check-post that everybody woke up when the driver asked the
Sahebs to show the permission to go up the circuit house. The tourist in this part still
required to take the 38DFO permission to visit the place. It was dense forest a check
post with just three armed police men from the Central Security forces, a wooden
barrier which was lifted once the Saheb identified himself. The guards had the prior
information about the guests. The same guards saluted and guided the driver about the
route to be taken up the circuit house. The forest road passed through the dense forest
38 District Forest Officer.
The Riparian Neighbours74
with local vegetation and dried up leaves scattered all over the morning dew has made
it so damp that the road itself was very slippery to walk on. The place wore natural
fragrance with the occassional bark of the local Deer. Some wild goat was also there
in the forest. The road meandered through the steep slope and finally at the Circuit
house. The Jeep had to parked below as there were steps leading up to it. It was
beautifully perched at the top of the mountain. As and when clouds would clear up
the view from the circuit house was absolutely breath-taking. The sprawling hills of
the reserve wore thick Pine forests with lot of cMarinar trees and some new
vegetation. The circuit was protected from wild intrusions during night by the barbed
wires of six feet in height. The circuit house was spacious and had all modern
facilities. It even had a Glass house for winters. As the 39chowkidar took them
through the Circuit house, a man wearing khaki trousers, white shirt and black jumper
entered and wished, “salaam sahebs, I am Gul Shanaz , your guide during your stay. I
shall try to make your times as enjoyable as possible. I am here for past twenty years,
much before this reserve was conceived.”, While the elders took the luggage and
looked for the running water, kitchen and other facilities. The children gathered
around the guide. The guide had a pleasant personality and knew his way with
children. “So when do we see the Tigers..” Rukaiyya. “ Well the Tigers….are not
many…ummm yes yes some panthers, too… but this place is for the Black bears very
few brown here.” the guide, continued “…you can see the panthers sometimes the
Deers as well, in the compound they can leap over those barbed wires, the water hole
is just down below in the north of this Circuit house..” , Bilqis interrupted “…that’s
scary, Ahmed you will see that all the doors are locked and closed , check the same in
the morning before any one comes out in the compound”. “Oh you should sleep near
the main door, scary lot...” Ahmed let out his rage.”No No, son yu mustn’t talk to
your elder sister like that” guide politely told Ahmed. “… So the bears are ferocious
or not…” Ahmed changed the topic, “..No, they are not but you have to be careful…
39 watchman
The Riparian Neighbours75
not to irritate them…”, everybody listened in stunned manner, suppressing their fears.
The guide has an inimitable style who exuded confidence and acted as if in command
of the situation. The children were impressed by his stories about the jungle. Ahmed,
Saif, Bilqis and Rukaiyya all inquisitive about the life and secrets of Black-bears
endlessly talked and listened with deep interest. Thereafter the guide waving his small
stick , lead everybody into the deeper forests. There was narrow but clearly marked
forest pathway with barbed wires of waist-height, there was mulberry trees and
small hedges all over . This was the perfect settings for the Bear reserve anywhere.
Then at a distance one could see the black-bears who ignored the visitors completely.
They didn’t seemed to be disturbed by this intrusion. “what is this giant cage for..”
Rukaiyya, “ Well, this is to tame any aggressive Bear or to acclimatize any new
entrant here. Other times it is used for treatment as well. We often quarantine the
animals here. Sometimes to breed them, this reserve has comparatively high success
rate like the Chinese, have for Pandas” Guide in hushed tones. “What about the
Panthers, Tigers,..” Bilqis. “ …shsh ! don’t disturb the Bears, talk slowly, No, No,…
this place is only for Bears, other animals are old inhabitants here , they are however
protected animals and we help them as and when it may be required…” .guide, then
at a distance a Bear growled slowly and raised its tone slightly putting everybody on
guard. “…just keep walking this is a nursing mother, so it is slightly alarmed, not to
worry” Guide tried everyone. For few steps everybody walked silently, the two men
held the hands of their children, as if to protect their siblings. Suddenly the mother-
Bear took leap and then stopped, and retreated fast towards the thick bushes, where it
became invisible. “ The cubs are inside…we will relocate them soon, its not safe for
them” Guide informed. “…Very often the Male grizzly would attack the cubs and
consequently injure the nursing mother as well.” It didn’t quite assure the visistors
who walked in dumb silence. They all stopped near the Mulberry tree wher the guide
plucked few fruits purple and purple green, sweet in taste, the guide pulled out a
small pouch from his upper pocket and asked the party to spread there hands and
The Riparian Neighbours76
poured little bit of salt in everybody’s palm. “..there it tastes very good with the
salt” . “ this is delicious , cant we have some more” Bilqis said to the guide with
delightful expression. Her cheeks glowing red. “Oh why not…., aren’t you now
afraid of the Grizzly…” Guide in sarcastic manner. “…she isn’t scared, when it
comes to gobbling down…” Ahmed . Everybody busy eating mulberries, as they
started to walk further down. “That must be the Trout Farm” Bhat while looking right
towards his wife Midhat. “well the farm is here for two reasons, the plentiful natural
canal and the food for the Bears and the Big migrant birds” Midhat . The rest listened
to her attentively. “…this year was bad for the birds” Guide who was walking in
front. “anyway the local birds are always there…” Midhat snipped. “saheb, you are
right !”, Guide tried to soothe Midhat’s tone. Meanwhile Rukaiyya and Ahmed kept
chatting in hissing tones while pointing in different directions. Bilqis walked holding
Saif’s her youngest brother’s hand, who was walking fast than her pulling her arm in
front while holding it tightly.
“ Well Iam famished ,Gul,( the guide) what are you serving us with tea, …
aaa fried trout…., I suppose” spoke Bhat. “Janab , today being a holiday we will
have to see if there is someone in the Kitchen there, DFO saheb never sounded about
your visit to the Trout Farm” replied Gul in his usual humble tone. Meanwhile
Usamah took out her professional camera and scribbled some notes on her notepad.
She then started to interview the people who were feeding fishes and were collecting
some water samples as well. The visitors also gathered round the Duct; which was 15
ft across with fresh water supply from the nearby Natural canal. The duct was
covered with a Net , and had a fast flowing water, the surface beneath was rugged to
give the natural gush in the water, which made lot of noise as well. The noise was so
strong , as would the moving boulders make in the Upper stream. It was a pleasant
site when the Trout fish would leap out of the stream and then dive in to surface again
few metres away. “…who can catch fish like a Bear would when they go
downstream…” Saghir broke his long-silence. He was known for his long-silences. “
The Riparian Neighbours77
Oh, it is not difficult.” Ahmed, “ Go ahead…you get Rs.20.00 here and now.”
Saghir . “I will also...” Saif. And Rukaiyya said together while lunging towards the
duct. The trio waited and tried as the fish leaped out towards the corners out of the
small net in the Steel net covering the Duct. After few minutes the trio became
disinterested. Saghir again challenged them to try keeping their hands in the cold
water for thirty seconds. This time Bilqis, Midhat and Usamah also joined in while
Bhat and other employees at the farm watched amusingly. It took less than five
seconds for each to take out their hands , only Ahmed and Bilqis had their hands for
almost the same duration of ten seconds. Their hands turned deep red and were
difficult to move for sometime. “ Abbu,now I know why these fishes constantly jump
out of water, its just too cold to stay in…” Saif said innocently, as every burst into
laughter. Saif held his father’s hand tightly and slid behind his legs.
“Come sahebs , kahwa and fish are ready” said Gul . Everybody sat at the
lawns of the small kitchen, which was meant for the Officers working at the farm. “
Saheb, will the Central government give more money to our Farm, this year, we need
funds badly. As there is ban on tourists there is no source of income” Gul said to
Saghir . “ ye akhbar se hain inse kaho, yahi likhein ( she works in News paper, ask
her to write about it)” Saghir pointed towards his wife Usamah. Gul immediately
stepped just next to Usamah. “ Janab, Please write about it otherwise local people
and this reserve both will suffer. You see , Farm is major source of earning for the
fish-farmers nearby, some of them were poachers earlier.” Gul spoke in concerned
fashion wearing anxious looks.
“Very well, if that is so I will write about it, take us to the nearby villages where the
farming is conducted” Usamamah replied . “ Zaroor 40Janab( Surely Madam), Seven
o’clock I will be there” , said Gul . After everybody finished their grub, they further
walked down the farm climbing some thirty long steps to the Main Forest road. There
40 Urdu term for respected men and women, common expression used in offices around Indian sub-continent to address superiors , irrespective of Gender.
The Riparian Neighbours78
jeep with their driver was waiting for them. “what is that forest path there..?” Ahmed
to Gul. “ “Well that is the trekking route, which runs just next to the fences of the
Dachigam, but there are not many who come here. Although it is nice trek.” Gul
lamented .
“ Can we go for trekking tomorrow, Yes provided it doesn’t rain tomorrow” Saghir
interrupted. “… the weather is pretty unpredictable here as in Srinagar, in any case
this beginning of June, so this is rainy season”. The young visitors looked glum.
“alright if it doesn’t rain then you people go…” Bhat settled the issue. Then the
visitors sat in their vehicle and drove up to the circuit house, it took them half an hour
to cover those just less than Five kilometer long stretch. The visitors covered the
same in three hours. Although the slopes here were not very high , yet the gradient
would feel on account of the slippery forest tract. The tract was slippery as the height
of the mountain constantly exposed to the lower clouds and also the foliage was so
thick that it hardly allowed the sun rays to dry up the dead twigs and leaves strewn all
over. That day the VIP visitors were treated to the sumptous dinner consisting of
roasted lamb and rice with curd. After saying there prayers everybody started to take
their favourite place to sleep. Ahmed , Rukaiyya, Bilqis and Saif, in their night robes
took to the couches in the Main Central Hall which was very big in size . The parent
took to the two bedrooms which were there at the ground-floor section. The first floor
rooms were locked barring one Central Hall from where the view of the whole
Dachigam reserve was possible on given day and time. That night when everybody
was in deep sleep, Ahmed woke up hearing some noise, as if some animal was
working on the bones . The noise like krrtkrrtkrrrrtkrktktktkktkrt…,made him more
curious. Suddenly he saw two red-yellow eyes glowing in the dark looking straight in
his direction. Ahmed did not make a mistake in recognizing the animal, as he walked
towards the window which had grills fixed into it. The big-cat stopped and twitched
its ears for the noise Ahmed foot-steps made on the somewhat creeky wooden floor,
in the dead of night. The pair of eyes suddenly turned away and leaped over the
The Riparian Neighbours79
Barbed-wire fence, landing over with a slight thud !, then vanished. There was no
electricity supply in the night in the ‘Reserve’ there, so Ahmed lit the candle, which
the chowkidar has left on the side table. Ahmed checked all the doors to doubly
ensure they were bolted securely. Then he went over to his sister Bilqis whose blanket
had fallen on the floor. He pulled-up the blanket and covered her with affection. Then
he checked if Saif was asleep properly. Then he went towards the couch where
Rukaiyya was asleep, he stood there and watched her sleep for sometime. Then he
withdrew the curtain, which hanged just behind the couch, the pink-face glowed in
moon-light. He pulled up Rocking chair and sat there watching her. “Ahmed, what
are you doing sleeping on this chair, I hope you have not started to walk in your
sleep”, Bilqis in her sharp voice. “ Ahmed rubbed his eyes and stretched his arms and
legs, looked around askance, then gripped himself. “…aaa…hmmmm…I ….never
mind”, Ahmed with half-closed eyes snubbed her and dropped himself on the couch.
The morning Sun, was covered by the clouds. “Rukaiyya , Saif , get-up , Oh Allah, its
going to rain, our day will be spoiled ….” Bilqis. Then somebody knocked at the
front entrance, which was the Main entrance. “It seems the Panther was here last
night, there is a carcass of a fawn lying at the back entrance”, the chowkidar said, as
he kept his umbrella and Rubber shoes at the Cane-hold. He wore the slippers lying
there, and walked straight to the kitchen. He said louldy “ It might rain any moment
now, your program may not go as planned last night, but you will see Deers in the
compound, if it rains heavily today”.
“why so kaka..?” Bilqis while tying her hairs, clutching the hair-band in her mouth
and walked into the kitchen and stood next to the granite slab. Suddenly there was a
cloud-burst. The chowkidar said “ Allah rahm41…” while looking outside the wooden
window of the kitchen. Bilqis also rushed to the window, it started to rain first lightly
then another cloud-burst suddenly it started to rain heavily. “this wouldn’t last more
than an hour or so…, let me in please…” it was the Guide at the main door who
41 Spare us.
The Riparian Neighbours80
came rushing the steps with umbrella. He took out his Gum-boots, as they were
muddy at the door itself and walked bare-foot on the carpeted-floor.
Thereafter everybody, had break-fast, as the parents also got up and came out
of their rooms rather lethargically. “ So it is raining,…
”Bhat said as he cleaned his glasses looking at everybody while sitting don at the
sofa where Ahmed slept earlier. It became very dark outside. The green vegetation
became to appear still a darker green. The barks became darker with water dripping
down the slender long Pines and firs trees. The rainy-water drops dripped fast their
leaves, as they waved with the wind power shaking them of their weighty moist
slumber.
As the visitors sipped kahwa, tea there was some milk for the young visitors.
Ahmed preferred to have kahwa, then the cow milk, which tasted different and
smelled also. Package milk was still a far cry, although skimmed milk powder was
used on these heights.
“Well, the rain doesn’t intend to halt …as you predicted…” Ahmed to Guide,
in a serious tone. “ …I must have annoyed Allah to make me eat my words…” Guide
putting on grimace and smiled gently. Ahmed also smiled back after looking him for
a moment. “ look the Deers, so many Deers they are collecting in the backyard…”
Chowkidar informed everyone while lifting the curtains of the Central Hall.
Everybody got up and went close to the windows. It was magnificent to see hundreds
of Deer all struggling to get into the wide cMarinar trees to take shelter in the rains.
“..they are collecting here, as on their way back there are no shady trees from the
water-hole just below this Circuit house…” Guide broke the silence. Everybody kept
watching the Deer herd. Suddenly Ahmed opened his huge windowpanes, which
alerted the herd who became uncomfortable. The herd however watched with slight
movement displaying their uneasiness. Their red bulging eyes glowed slightly as it
grew darker and darker. “ if you see there eyes in the head-lights, they would glow
red and put a awesome sight…” spoke Saghir, as everybody stood at the windows
The Riparian Neighbours81
watching the herd. “ We were travelling in the night through forest further down this
place towards the Canal project, in the middle of the road was the herd standing in the
open. As the head-lights fell on them, they just stood over there fixed to the beam.
We switched off the lights and then waited the herd to move. These are really very
simple animals.” Saghir told, “ I will take some photographs….” Ahmed . “ Yes, yes
you stand on the Centre-table and take a group photo with the Herd in the
background…” Usamah, Ahmed’s mother said to him. “ Very well , Ma !” Ahmed
and jumped up the table in excitement. Everybody faced the camera, as Ahmed took
three snaps from different angle. Suddenly it stopped raining, the herd dissipated
within few seconds, leaving their hoof marks only.
“Let us get ready for the trekking..” Bilqis while rushing inside the bed room.
Others also followed pursuit. That day they went to the same spot near the farm by
their Jeep. Thereafter took the Trekking route which ran parallel to the fencing all
over the reserve. The fencing was not all over but it was done in portions where
grazing was common.
The trekking stretch was some few kilometers long and was fuill of short cuts.
These short-cuts made the trek still shorter but exhaustive. It meant that during the
dry seasons from small seasonal streams went dry, they made a natural steps with the
roots and trunks of the trees stood exposed which were firmly embedded in the rocks
upper crust. The spacing between the exposed roots and trunks were sometimes a foot
wide at other were around two feet apart in height. So while the trek route would
swerve round an extra meters, one could just cut those, by pushing oneself to these
heights.
As the it has rained these streams were extremely slippery with water still
dripping down some these streams. The trek route was however pebbled with large
round-shaped stones all laid down so that the surface was hard all through the season
even when it rained or snowed. It wasn’t exactly a motorable tract but the ponies
worked through. Very often one would come across a herd of cows who would just
The Riparian Neighbours82
hold the whole passage some seven feet wide only. At other places it would shrink
and expand upto 11 feet. Some of the pebbles simply stood out as they were just too
large to be leveled. These rock-stones were those from the natural Canal which
flowed just near the reserve. These would simply collect at the banks of the same.
Many structures inside the Reserve were also made of these stones, as a cheap and
easily available material. The hooves of the ponies and the cows made very strange
noise. The cows would very often slip and then recover as there hooves were plain
and did not have the soles as the ponies did. These ponies were of the locals who used
them to haul dried wood and fallen twigs of the trees. The locals around were allowed
to take collect the dead wood from the forest reserve. The symbiotic relationship was
part of afforestation. In fact this was the Central government support plan which was
being tried here as part of the national conservation policy for the dwindling forest
cover.
“Look there is someone on the tree up there…” Ahmed pointed upwards. He
was leading with the Guide, everyone tried to peer through the thick foliage. Then
they heard a voice of falling twigs and branches. “ look they are cutting the fallen tree
there” Bilqis “Gul Muhammad ,do they the permission to cut that tree”, Midhat
asked in a condescending tone. Gul Muhammad the Guide shouted at the man up the
tree. “he says the tree has been marked by the Forest office for people”, Gul
Muhammad “ … that is nonsense, the fallen tree cannot be a dead tree by default, tell
him to stop cutting and that man on top, what is he doing…?” Midhat said adamantly.
The wood-cutters who belonged to one of the contractors reluctantly came down
when they were told that sahebs were also from Department. “ well how can they just
chop trees without permission with forest guards around ..” Usamah asked Midhat. “
Well it is the law and also the corruption, besides there are very few forest guards
here. Guides like him”, pointing towards Gul Muhammad are helpless, and continued
“…before these contractors”, Midhat said. “Every year survey is carried out of the
forest, those trees which are sick and dying, are marked with white paint and are
The Riparian Neighbours83
numbered by the DFO. These forests also have the logging facilities within the
forests.” Midhat explained. “...this is the main cause of malaise here in the forestry
program. Unfortunately, this is an important loophole….”, Midhat “…mmmm…
how…aunty?”, Ahmed to Midhat. “ Well, it is seed of corruption….” Midhat. “……
Ooo ! look the water-hole and the animals, with Sun rays creating a halo around !”
Saif who was sitting on the shoulder of Guide Gul Muhammad. Everybody started
looking down in between the mountains. The clouds below gradually cleared away.
The scene below was breathtaking as the Sun lighted the forests below, the
picturesque aerial view unfolded.
“Where are the bears…?”, Saif asked. “ Well ! the bears ….hmmm…they are
dark colored so they can’t be seen from the top….” Gul Muhammad said in an
amused fashion. Others smiled. It was some two hours of trekking that the visitors
have reached the top of the mountain where small forest canteen was spotted with a
Radio Tower, which was placed for watching the activity in the forest and also the
animals.
The visitors sat at the small benches make of old logs, exhausted just fell to
them. “Look Ahmed is fuming”, Bilqis “….Look those fumes coming out of his
Coat.” Everybody glazed at Ahmed. Ahmed looked over his shoulders with light
fumes raising just above his shoulders. “it seems we will need a Fire-fighter to douse
the flames” Ahmed and smiled back. “The Jeep was without coolant so engine over-
heated.” Rukaiyya finally broke her silence. Ahmed took off his Coat, to cool down.
The heat of the body made the moisture around the coat turn into steam.
There everybody sat and drank tea, with some bread-butter and omelette.
They also ate the fruits, which the ladies have packed before starting for the trek.
Finally took some photographs. The visitors stayed there for some hour and a half.
“…the photography is prohibited here..” Ahmed “…it’s written there” he pointed
towards the wall made of stone-blocks which had the entrance to the small Wireless-
The Riparian Neighbours84
Station, where two Forest-guards sat and watched the visitors through the windows of
the watch-tower instead.
Usamah and Midhat went inside the Watch-station. Usamah took a short-
interview after identifying herself, as free-lancer. Thereafter, she pointed out the
illegal felling of trees, which they have just come across. The guards simply stood
silent. Then one of them drew the courage to say that the cutting and felling is
normally done by the people of the contractors under a permit, that for any further
questions she will have to speak to the DFO. The guards then became silent and
asked the inquisitive visitors to excuse them for fear of loss of their job and
victimization by their superiors for speaking too much.
The visitors made their move from the place. It started to get cloudy up there
and also damp up there. Although, the forest reserve below was very much visible
through the transluscent clouds which flew past the visitors with the breeze blowing
towards Eastwards. It was the end of their tour and the visitors were to return home
that evening. “We would like to visit a kashmiri village” Bilqis to her father Saghir.
“..ye, yes.. we go to the carpets weavers village, sometime later” , Saghir nodded
while holding his climbing stick made of pine-wood. The stick was nicely carved and
varnished with a small metallic grip-top, which was silver-polished, it had some
carvings made on it.
It was also most late evening that the family left finall bid adieu to the reserve
for their retreat to home. Before they left they had some final photos of the reserve,
Guest-house and the workers, the Guide Gul Muhammad, Chowkidar, Guards and
men from the Trout Fish farm. They all came to offer greetings and obeisance to the
superior officials of the State.
The men from the fish farm gave some fried and steamed fish for their
journey back home which was about two and half hours or so.
That night Ahmed and his family stayed at Rukaiyya’s place. During their
vacations Ahmed along with is family-members and sometimes all alone himself,
The Riparian Neighbours85
would visit Rukaiyya’s place and play at the banks of Dal lake. Ahmed learnt to play
guitar during his visit to Rukaiyya’s place from her maternal uncle. He wore
bohemian looks always clad in his dark blue jeans and back T-shirts.
The Riparian Neighbours86
PART III
VISIT TO INDO-CHINESE BORDER FLOW OF SINDH
AND MOONSCAPE LADAKH.
The Riparian Neighbours87
CHAPTER VII
The family stayed in Srinagar, the state capital for about month and a half.
The vacations were drawing to end. The family decided to over stay by another
fortnight. It was long journey full of adventure and new friends. Some relationships
were lasting, some not so lasting one. Subsequently for many more coming years
during Saghir’s posting in Kashmir that Ahmed and his family came to visit the
same spots/places in the Valley again and again. Their first visit was however the
most memorable one.
“it wasn’t an afterthought,
it wasn’t premeditated,
though it manifests so,
It was as sanguine as
Spontaneity though desires so.”
The opportunitry came in the wake of massive corruption scandal. The BRO(Border
Roads Organization) could not maintain the roads last summers, due to the faulty
equipment. This equipment was, one of the biggest symbol of national loot. These
were the Maruti road-building equipment and machines. These were second-hand
machines which were painted new and were purchased by this government
organizatioon at an exorbitant price.
Saghir was to undertake the building of the forward post roads which were to
be then connected with the National High way which ran from Srinagar-Leh, another
300 odd Kilometers of young Himalayan ranges and mountains finally culminating
in the moon landscape of Leh and the Ladakh region of the State of Jammu and
Kashmir which comprised of the one-third territory of the state area. The tension in
this area was mounting and every summer was a source of contention. The
increasing Sino-Pak presence and building of troops and roads in the occupied areas
of the Ladakh division and Skardu were alarming . These regions were lost by Indian
The Riparian Neighbours88
Defence during previous conflicts between India-Pakistan and India and CMarina.
This year though with new Military dictates coupled with some brutal crushing of
the movement for democracy in Pakistan , the defence scenario was getting worse.
Troop mobility was the priority, this region was still completely out of bounds for
foreign tourists. However the definition of foreigner in this Division was much
scarce than one in North-East India. Even the Indian citizens, not permanent
residents of the regions, were required to have the permit from the District
Magistrate or the concerned Army authority to visit some of the remote regions
bordering Burma and CMarina. The security scenario was not that so bleak. It was
the despotic South Bloc42
The visit of new Prime Minister was equally important who has been a
Deputy Prime Minister earlier during the War-crisis.
The family was to travel initially by Air, with new services launched for Leh.
Leh 43was Union territory. So State government had very little control on the town
and capital of the Ladakh region of the State. The new Prime Minister promised the
international airport at Srinagar, also development for the areas falling in the upper
regions of the River Indus popularly known as Sindh , as referred by the locals. So
lot of infrastructure work was initiated that year many with immediate effect. The
long political disrepair warranted the new projects.
It was decided that Saghir will soon have to proceed first to Leh in a Military
aircraft. Later to Nubra Valley. He was to conduct the areial survey and assess the
damage and repairs. Meanwhile the family will stay in Srinagar and go around to
places like Pahalgam and Gulmarg. The two most important tourist spots. The
family spent some time visiting Gulmarg and Pahalgam. All through the state
highways, load of tourist buses local from other parts of land would rattle their nosiy
42 South Bloc is the name of the building housing Indian Prime Minister’s office and Inetrnal security ministries as well.43 Leh being District Head quarters of Ladakh region( one of three Divisions comprising state of Jammu and Kashmir.
The Riparian Neighbours89
diesel engines through. These would momentarily belch out thick black smoke from
their dangling silencers. The word silencer would be plain mockery of the literal
meaning and the mechanical role assigned thereto. At the Gulmarg the family
trekked all the way up to the khilanmarg where a film shooting was being carried
out. They played in the snow for the first time. This was only visible there during the
summer season. Otherwise it was just grass-lands all over in the plains of Gulmarg.
The winters being different story altogether.
Some fifteen days passed away. Family after hectic travelling criss-crossing
the length and breadth of the Kashmir division . They finally halted for their upward
journey to Leh. Everybody was looking forward to the excitement. It would be
privilege visit to the remotest lama state of India. The largely Buddhist part of the
State. Much of it was never reached by the erstwhile ruler called Maharaja.
Maharaja came from the region of Jammu and was a Dogra.44 Saghir and family were
not in contact as, he was mobile. Although his office staff would relay the messages.
There were no civilian communication lines. The National Highway was still not
open for public. The National Highway extending from Srinagar valley to the heights
of moonscape Ladakh divion. The Highway was the vital lifeline was those living in
the upper Himalayan mountainous regions. The heights of Zanskar and Zojila45 are
always covered with snow and this destroyed the bitumen roads. The repair of the
roads usually would start in the month of March itself. However it was opened only
in May for the public. This road channel was lifeline for the rest of region. This was
to maintain the stocks of essential and non-essential items. Summers was the right
and only time for the buffer-stocks. The civilians of the Upper regions of Ladakh
44 This is anme of the caste of warrior class in this region of foot hills of Himalaya.45 Zanskar is the name of the range while the Zojila is the name of a treachrous Pass on a Glacier. The snow in some parts had turned black as it hardly melted. Such being the temperature.
The Riparian Neighbours90
could only manage their supplies through the annual maintenance of the National
highway segment.
Finally the telephone communications in end-May was established. The
family at last heard form Saghir after a long gap.
The family was to fly in next two days to Leh. Meanwhile Ahmed and
Saif so have Bilqis found the friends in land-lords childen of the same
age. Some others who lived in the vicinity , some Sikhs, Hindus,
Afghans and some Iranians. Ahmed made a good friend with the
Land-lords lovely looking daughter Arasta. The girl was half-Afghan
and Half-Kashmiri. The Kabbanis as the land-lords were known in the
locality. She had a younger flabby brother whose name was Arman.
Everyday the snobbish Arman who was much like his mother, would
boast of his new imported clothes. There were some of his cousins
from Iran. In the evening Ahmed and Saif would come with their
elder sister to play at the Kabbanis paly-ground which was of massive
size. The portion with the Ahmed’s family was the smallest and it had
small gate which opened into the orchard of the Kabbanis. Boys and
girls were allowed to pluck the fruits like cherries, apples, red and
green ones, only under the strict supervision of the mali.46 The
massive house of Kabbanis had three-portions. In another lived a
widow and her two spinster daughters. They had some dogs. These
dogs were the Golden Labradors. A bitch with the litter, were the
focus of attraction for the children. These residents were not so
friendly, yet the sudden burst of life in their monotonous world bore a
reluctant welcome. The children at first waited for the three women to
leave for their daily evening stroll which lasted some hour and a half.
Both Ahmed and his elder sister Bilqis were fond of dogs. Finally one 46 Gardener, in India it is a low-caste among the Hindus
The Riparian Neighbours91
day the entire lot decided to request the ladies, if they would allow
them to rear up the litter. The bitch was no longer fussy about their
presence. The gang fed the bitch which made it still more friendly.
Not far away was the camp of the CRPF47, where the special Dog unit
was also housed. Some of the boys got friendly with the Policemen.
These Policemen also enjoyed their company and took them around
the camp. It all appeared adventurous to those young eyes. The boys
infomed the girls about the dogs squad nearby. They also told the girls
how these dogs were being trained in various jobs. But there were no
pups or Bitches. The kennel was far away in Jammu where the CRPF
reared the German Shepherds and Labradors. The role of this squad
was ever increasing for Bomb disposal and sniffing guns and
ammunition. The CRPF was coordinating with the Army for better
breeding and training of their dogs. The girls were grown ups and
knew that it wasn’t the right place for the girls. This CRPF unit had
most men from Southern part of India. The topography was very
different there, volcanic soil and equatorial climate. These men would
brave winters with not so adequate clothings on tour of duty.
The gang soon realised that they cannot have the fun and
involvement with the Dog squad. The boys in all seven including
Ahmed and Saif tried to influence the girls and goaded them to talk to
the threesome of ladies. The girls refused to oblige, as they were not
happy with their brothers visiting the Policemen. Finally after few
days have passed with the litter now making noises and crawling
around on their bellies with their eyes now open. All the pups
resembled their mother. Ahmed, Saif, Amarjit and punit chose their
47 Central Reserve Police Force, a para-military Central force, formerly known as Crown Reserve Police Force.
The Riparian Neighbours92
pup. They would enter through the small opening in the wooden
partition wall. In valley it was the wooden partition walls which
marked the boundaries much like the state of Rajasthan all desert
where the sand stone blocks were used as the demarcation. Wood was
cheap and plenty, it kept the house warm and gave ornamental
interiors. Although the modern houses were made of bricks, concrete
with roofs tiled . In fact one could easily peep through the small spaces
between the planks which were bolted from inside to form a wall. The
gang looked for some other bitches with litter as to own a pup. It was
not to be.
Ahmed and his family were here for some more than a month
and half. Saghir was still not expected and the family joining him in
Leh was also postponed. The Air tickets were requested for later dates.
The people from the office of Saghir came everyday with the small
printouts of telex messages for the family.Usammah the mother, also
made friends with some women in the neighbourhood. Although the
Khan’s had cook and two peons for the household errant. Usamah
decided to explore the market place herself . Sometimes the ladies
would go and buy some woolen stuff which was of export quality but
was expensive one. Usamah and the family including Ahmed, Saif,
Bilqis and Arasta would go every evening during their stay, to the lal
chowk, the bustling city market for their walk, a daily dose of freshly-
baked Pineapple pastries and tinned Apple juice from the famous
Bengali sweets house. At the famous joint there was always a mad rush
of the tourists , locals alike. However at any given time the presence of
the heavy para-military forces, ever alert and on guard, were indicative
of the sublime peace and tranquil façade.
The Riparian Neighbours93
Usamah and her childen visited the Bhats also. Very often the
Bhats and Khans alongwith the Kabbanis would collect at the Bengali
Sweet House for some North Indian dishes (mainly Punjabi dishes) ,
Ironical though there was hardly any thing Bengali about the sweet
house, barring a few fast-food preparations. This was the Indian
versison of the McDonalds and Kentucky chains to name a few. The
American brands like Coke and Pepsi were now the persecuted names.
The new Central government was not at all in favor of the American
brands and the culture that sprouted around those products. Many
decades later the somewhat same leadership on regaining the power
decided to liberalise the economy and gave in to consumerism. The
same old guard decided to give in, unwillingly though to the wrath of
bankruptcy. The prevalence of wisdom was ever elusive. The political
bankruptcy of Gerontocracy was made evident as policy after policy
unveiled the structural reforms in the country. The social discrepancy
became too evident, to shake the edifice of the political system. Some
power-hungry then made bid to cling to power by changing the
constitutional politics. As the couplet 48 goes ;
“haram ruswa hua
pir-e-haram ki kum nighahi se,
jawanan e Tartari kis qadr saheb e nazr
nikle ….”
Translated it reads :
“The learning went to spoil
for the myopic thoughtless,
48 Sir Iqbal, famous Urdu Poet and thinker, with Kashmiri lineage, lived in early part of twentieth century in Lahore, Pakistan
The Riparian Neighbours94
O’ sons of Tartar49 how thoughtful
And distant vision you’re…”
The repetitive bout of crisis-management made the system
infested with corruption where secure living was no longer available,
even to the privileged. These scenarios were discussed by the elite,
Usamah used the opportunity of meeting these women and men from
the elite Kashmiri background to prepare her dossier for the weekly
newspaper despatch.
As the family waited for Saghir message to reach Leh , they
were invited to a Kashmiri Muslim wedding. The entire family, went
with Kabbanis, Bhats and Singhs as well. They hired a small van for
the purpose. Although the boys came in a separate jeep. There was
strict segregation of men and women. Most women observing purdah.
The most outstanding was the feast which the guests had . The food
was served with men squatted on the floor sitting in long rows. The
atmosphere was bit noisy, as people shouted at each in their local
language. The Kashmiris are known to be loud and gay people, festive
by nature. The culture which loves to eat and chat and chat endlessly.
Then came two men holding vessels and towels on their
shoulders. These were typical Persian way of washing hands before
dinner. A heavy jug-shaped for water and a basin shaped vessel
covered to hold the waste-water. All shiny tin-plated copper vessels.
Then came men with large plates containing large mounds of
rice in real sense. Then the rich gourmet made from lamb meat with
lots of chillies and curd. Some chicken preparation for the special
49 refers to heathen Mongol destroyer of caliphate at Baghdad in 16 th century, who later embraced Islam.
The Riparian Neighbours95
guests like Khans. No local invitee tasted that dish leave alone eating
the same.
“Hey Arman! , how on earth do we finish these tonnes of
rice…”, Ahmed in amazement. As he looked at the rice and other
contents laid all over the rice mound. Each huge plate was shared by
four men.
Arman gave his silly smile and spoke in a sarcastic tone “ …
We(Kashmiris) are so rich as to waste all this rice and throw it for not
so rich like you wheat-consumers from India….”, “ Throw it!….
serious Amarjit( a Kashmiri Sikh boy)…” Ahmed “yaasusss…” as he
gulped down the rista50 . “hmmmm, that is not pemissible…” Ahmed
“….Permissible under what!…” Arman “…I mean under our
religion….”, “Oh I never knew you were religious as well….” Arman
continued with his tone. “Sirs would you like to have some of
Gushtaba and Roghan Josh51 …..” somebody politely asked. He was
wearing a embroidered Kashmiri cap and fawn colored shalwar kamiz
with brown embroidered woolen waistcoat with golden buttons.
“some gustaba please and some curd-sauce” Ahmed while taking ways
for the man to pour it in the thaal52. “ well I was always religious man
and try to behave like a pious muslim, I say my sala’at regularly…”
Ahmed, “…you don’t have to explain and justify to this fatso…”
Amarjit whispered in Ahmed’s ear. “ he is pissed off with you..!”
Before Ahmed could ask him Arman who was busy devouring
sumptous food spoke in threatening tone “ I know you bloody Amarjit
you are spekaing foul about me to Ahmed…” Amarjit scared “…nono
Oh no…please we are not speaking about you, it was about those two
50 A dried meat ball fried in animal fat.51 Two famous dishes of Kashmiri cuisine.52 The huge engraved plate for four people or more to eat the food.
The Riparian Neighbours96
boys who live in the Police colony……” “you you…..” Arman raising
his left fist . “ what is going on there Arman , can’t you ever behave
with your friends for once…!” Mr.Kabbani reprimanded knowing his
spoilt son well. Everybody try to hide their smile, Amarjit could not .
“You sard…. I will not spare you for this….tomorrow you will have to
fight with me in our lawn…” then he menacingly looked towards
Ahmed and other boys who were shairng the same plate. Arman was
the bigger and the bulkier of the lot. At the same time he enjoyed
bullying the younger lot. This year was particularly hard for him as he
flunked. His sister topped her class and in all sections of her standard.
Arasta was in Eight standard, studying at the prestigious Convent
school. An all rounder at the school was good at protocol , polite,
aristocratic in her demeanour, yet friendly. Arasta was much like her
father and Arman was much like his mother. Mrs.Kabbani was the
only daughter of her rich parents, who were very big landlords of the
Valley and held Ministerial portfolios in the State cabinet. Elite of the
valley. Arasta only commonality with here mother was her stunning
looks. Mrs.Kabbani did not bear the typical Kashmiri features, her
facial features were more smooth and round. A distinctive pink
complexion, pretty looking woman for her age. Kabbanis were few of
Indian muslims who retained their cultural and social links with their
relatives in Iran and Afghanistan even after centuries. They
mainatained it through marriages and other means like business. Most
of the Kabbani relatives were into Carpet and Dry fruits merchandise.
Kabbanis regularly flew to Iran and Afghanistan very often. This genre
did affect the mentality of Mrs.Kabbani .
As the party packed for the day and went back to their
homes. The boys apprehended bull-show the next day. It was an
The Riparian Neighbours97
unexpected change of venue for everybody. The boys did not go to the
Kabbanis lawn to play next evening. Instead they decided to go to
Amarjit’s plcae. Amarjit took out all the three bicycles, belonging to
hima nd his younger brotehrs . In all the six boys went to the nearby
paddy fields and tried to catch some fishes and toads. They took
Amarjit father’s fishing rod. Well there were no small fish or tadpoles.
This was only during the rainy seasons which was due to commence.
Somehow the fields used to get inundated with the small fish which
were cooked with rice. It was very much to the local taste and apetitite.
This was quite new experience for both Ahmed and Saif. The boys that
day caught some toads which were of brownish color. Frogs were a
common sight in the area. Each evening the nosiy creatures would ho
around the lawns in the vicinity. On could find them indoors, if the
doors were left open for sometime. Mosquitoes were not that a
problem.
That evening Arman called up Ahmed’s number and said “…
this Amarjit is a crap, you should not mix up with him…..” then
sensing Ahmed’s disapproval by his stony silence on the other end,
modifying his tone “…..anyway last evening was just ajoke, nothing to
take seriously yaaar (friend)” . Somebody spoke from behind, it was a
familiar voice, “Ok Ok you can also talk to him,…” he shouted at the
voice behind. Then speaking back “.. this Hunza, ( Iranian first cousin
of Arman, Arasta) wish to speak to you…” “hmmmm…yes….”
Ahmed broke his silence. “Baji (elder sister) referring to Arasta,
….and Bilqis Appi will talk to Naina auntie for the puppies…then we
all can go and play with them in the evenings…”. Hunza was the
youngest of the lot, almost Saif’s age. “Oh that is good news, my sister
can be really generous to others sometime.” Ahmed spoke within
The Riparian Neighbours98
audible range of Bilqis who was seated on the sofa in the large sitting
room reading some magazine. Bilqis looked at him and ignored the
taunting brother. “ dinner time children….” Usamah their mother
called from the other kitchen which was next to the Main sitting room.
This was the new temporary home as the official accomodation was
relieved following transfer of Mr. Khan to Leh region . Although the
Bureaucrats were in the habit of retaining their official family
residence under one pretext or another , Mr. Khan chose otherwise.
Although the rules permitted him so. However Saghir was honest man,
since his family was not to reside in the region, so he decided to forego
his palatial and tasteful official accomodation. Architectural design for
these houses were almost similar, although the interiors varied a lot. It
seems that the rich Kashmiri elite of the region copied the English and
American designs of late. Raj nagar was the posh area , although it was
plagued by the same basic civic amenities, as were the old Srinigar city
which bore narrow lanes, open drains some even without gutters, leaky
water pipes. The stench in the old markets was unbearable, hygiene
was everything but a priority. These elite also had farm houses in their
huge and massive orchards. There were very few rules meant for them.
It was more of self-regulatory thing, whatever design and architectural
value this part of the Srinagar town had.
Many years later when Ahmed turned into an aspiring young
man, he met Arasta who narrated the horrors they met in the valley.
How they had to runaway leaving their homes , orchards and other
landed property for fear of extortion, kidnapping and most of all the
threat to life. Arasta was in her third year at the Medical college in
Delhi meant for women candidates only. Her brother Arman sent to
US where his Iranian cousins were staying for the studies. Mrs
The Riparian Neighbours99
Kabbani was ill with chronic depression. After here prolonged
treatment, she was a very different person, warm and pleasing. It was
as if the moral transformation have occurred, with some divine
intervention.
Many more elite kashimiris including the Kashmiri Pandits
(Brahmins) went to have themselves registered in the New Delhi office
for assesmment of the loss of landed property and other movables.
Many of this elite element, migrated to USA under various amnesty
schemes and other visa norms. The Kabbanis however made a bold
decision to wait for the political situation in the State to change. Their
gamble paid off, with a definite price.
Next evening the boys and girls were invited for the birthday
treat of Hunza, she was turned five. This was the first time that Ahmed
and others had access to those rooms which belonged to the Kabbanis.
The interiors were as rich and tasteful as one can imagine. All Persian
carpets both Silk and woolen, tasteful copper vessels and decoration
items, walls with beautiful wooden engravings and all panelled with
Walnut and Oak wood. The Kabbanis owned a large Sawing business
also. Mr.Kabbani was the leading Forest contractor of the State. His
wife’s political background and her family connections helped him a
lot. Hunza’s birthday had some Iranian taste, which bore reflection of
now prohibited Shah-traditions. Hunza dressed in impeccable white
gown with a matching head-gear, it looked more of wedding gown
than birthday suit. Celebrating birthday the western-style was now
prohibited in Iran under Ayatollah regime. The elite there in Iran was
now under siege by the intelligence wing called the pasdaran; the
moral police. The Iranian revolution meant dispensing away with the
western life-style and fashions. It did not necessarily meant dispensing
The Riparian Neighbours100
away with the western manners completely. Oil economics and
strategic value kept Iran sensitive to the western values despite the
social revolution. Hunza’s family, were one of the few Iranians who
were migrating to USA lock stock and barrel. It was not due to
persecution but because of the War crisis coupled with the freezing of
Iranian money and assets by the US government directives to the
Banks and Asset managers in USA and UK. It was getting increasingly
difficult to operate from Iran. Hunza’s family essentially in exports.
“….even if we become US citizens we can still retain the Iranian
citizenship, such are the laws of citizenship for natural Iranians….”
Hunza’s mother told Mrs.Khan as Ahmed and Bilqis listened to her
standing next to her while eating the cake. She continued “Times will
change very fast for Iranians, there is complete anathema for anything
connected with Shah, from neck-ties to English language,just about
everything…, this whole region is changing……” .
“Well, well, it is the super-powers which are playing us against
each other ….these Americans and Russians are equally self-serving.”
Hunzas father joined who sported beard and wore a shirt with straight
collars and buttoned up around the neck. “ so you wear chador now…”
Mrs Khan who was wearing a light blue printed Silk Saree. “ look
Iranian revolution is no about wearing chador, …..we have been
wearing the same for years now, yes not a compulsion then. I don’t
have anything against the revolution. In any case the Sunnis are not
that affected lot. Iran always had clergy which was well entrenched in
to our social and political structure. Moreover Ayatollah lived in
France before the revolution….”. “Can I serve you some kababs” Mrs
kabbani with a round bowl conatining kababs, placed in a wooden
tray. “Irna, Mrs Khan is a journalist… a person of your interest, she
The Riparian Neighbours101
writes” looking at Hunza’s mother in surprise she continued as each
took kababs from the bowl “Didn’t you tell Mrs. Khan ?”. “Oh really
is that so !…interesting, what do you wirte….?” Mrs Khan delighted
asked Irna. Irna shyingly smiled took a bite at the kabab. “hmmm,
these are good, ammi,” Ahmed to Usamah . “… I hope this meat is
legal in the State”, Usamamh said , “who cares…!…” Mrs Khan,
Mr.Kabbani joined in who overheard her. “Are there no laws for
hunting wild animals” Hunza’s father asked, looking amazed. “The
vegetarian lobby in power is trying to do all this”, Mr.Kabbani mocked
and took Hunza’s father aside. “So what do you write, Irna ?.Mrs
Khan. “Well I write on social affairs and some children literature….”
Irna bent down to keep her plate in the basket meant for it.
“Come I will show you my books thy are there”, she pointed
towards the room at the far end. This room was next to the one which
belonged to Arasta. “My son …, she pointed towards Ahmed…writes
too, but only romantic poems”, and everybody bursts into laughter.
Arasta and Saif has also joined. “ I am sre your son will be popular,
he has inherited your looks and intelligence” Hunza’s mother said with
compasion in her eyes as she looked at Ahmed. “Ammu he has already
written one dedicated to me” Arasta tried to tease Ahmed. He stood
there shyly bearing naughty smile with strange happiness striking his
heart. By this time Amarjit, his two younger brothers and Punit had
left. Some guests mostly men were seated in the lounge. Mrs Kabbani
was busy in her kitchen with the cooking business, guiding the cook
and her servants. Mrs Kabbani had number of servants, they changed
their shifts one after another. At any given time she had five-six
servants at her disposal. Arman was busy with his old friends from the
The Riparian Neighbours102
school, now in a higher grade than his. Arman was in a reticent mood
that day. He missed his old classmates after he flunked.
Everybody walked in rows past the gallery , which housed the
rooms one next to each other and few facing each other. Arasta and
Ahmed fell behind, “.. this is my room….” She opened the door gently
and swayed it gently leaning her back on to it. She held the door as
Ahmed stood at the entrance. Arasta looked at Ahmed and then stared
straight into his eyes, then entered the room, holding the door, as if
inviting him. Ahmed stepped in braving his hesitation. The room had
massive glass window which opened towards the front Lawn, where
they played everyday. As Ahmed surveyed the room, Arasta went
near the window, the door closed, she stood at the window with her
knee bent , her long grey printed skirt flowing down the stool which
had a chital skin stitched onto the cushion. Then she fixed her eyes on
Ahmed, she directed Ahmed by her hand with nimble fingers to lift the
pillow lying on the neatly laid bed. Ahmed walked towards the head of
the bed, which had a smooth sea-blue satin bed sheet with matching
pillow covers. They folded her arms holding close to her bosom with
ere henna dyed hairs neatly tucked in a pony tail. All along she did not
speak while fixing her look at Ahmed. “…This is my poem”, Ahmed
was elated. She gently nodded putting a soft smile on her beautiful
pink face, parting her deep red lips with teeth barely visible. “…ever
since you gave me that, I have been watching you each evening from
this window”….she paused looked down at her feet, she was wearing
white canvas shoes with gucci markings. “ don’t mistake me, to be
your lover, but I enjoy your attention, you are intelligent, that is what
attracts me. I am older to you. There will be many girls of your
age….”
The Riparian Neighbours103
“ I do not wish to disappoint you, but you must be sincere with
your women, you must not play with them.” Ahmed listened to her
standing straight next to her bed with shock and in amazement. She
continued, lifted one of her Barbie dolls in her hand, she held it close
to her. “…these beautiful women which you see around are not fools,
but they willingly allow their exploitation. I know you are a good boy
with flair for women. Just don’t be spoiled by the attention. The heart
of a poet must be real and authentic to the core, but do not patent it
for surreptious mannerism” she paused once again with her aristocratic
demeanour, she came close to Ahmed lifted his hands close to her and
planted a touch of her lips, Ahmed eyes flickered with joy and passion.
“your poem is my property, I shall read it again and again to myself,
however I do not trust you having know you form sometime now.”
“We can be well-wishers but not lovers I repeat….” , as she walked
away Ahmed turned and stared at her from head to toe. Arasta opened
the door held it with her captivating, now moist eyes looked at Ahmed
to leave her room. They together walked into the room where Irna and
others were present. Bilqis Ahmed’s sister looked up , as the duo
entered. “Irna khala let us hear Ahmed’s poem dedicated to Arasta”,
everybody looked at the two. Arasta gently moved towards the empty
chair next to Bilqis. Bilqis hissed, “you did the right thing.” Arasta
looked once again at Ahmed and then said “ he cant remember his
poems, I will fetch the poem and recite it for you all” Arasta left for
her room and was back with the paper which she had framed. This was
the poem . Arasta once again asked him (Ahmed) if he wish to recite
the same for all. Ahmed was still recovering from the taste which
she(Arasta) has just provided to him.
The Riparian Neighbours104
Arasta looked down at the paper which was now preserved in a
Mahogany frame. She seemed to be in absolute control and command
of the things . She drifted here dextrous long fingers on the paper as if
touching the emotions of the stanzas, which the poem contained. She
looked up, found herself the centre of everyones gaze. “..Well the
poem is titled “Liason”…, ammmm…its in English,” while looking at
Ahmed “…he writes in english and have also been published in a
poetry journal in US, I am sure this poem will do equally well.” She
smiled teasingly.
“ The thoughts which reveal
the dangerously beautiful-self,
remain unsaid, as part of
my unfounded fears. …1
The truth of a legend; its moral restrains, lest
‘transgress your consummate
sight. …2
It was not once or twice,
that the eyes, the loops of
speech, combined for rederssal. …3
I shall live unheard; as enormity
of your condescending
eyes never enabled a liason. …4
I though remain possessed of warmth
and concerns, as cleft in chin …5”
As Arasta looked up the wrpaped silence broke into clapping
and praise by elders. In the corner next to the door Mrs.Kabbani was
standing looking at Ahmed , as stranger. Mrs.Kabbani never spoke to
Ahmed during the rest of their stay in Srinagar .Indeed it was many
The Riparian Neighbours105
years thereafter that when she came to Delhi as a broken and
distraught for her treatment that she talked to Ahmed. Ahmed stayed
mum of the rest of the evening. His empty looks secretly followed
Arasta . Hunza and her family was leave for Delhi then to USA, the
next morning. The proposal to have the direct international flight from
Srinagar to USA was pending for long with the New Delhi, It was
suppose to have the good for the tourist flow in the state which
depended entirely on the income from the tourism and the exports
which were largely was facilitated by this tourist movement.
Arasta and Bilqis have talked to Naina aunty about the puppies
and the eagerness of the young boys. They narrated her how the boys
and Hunza have befreinded the bitch and the litter. Also how they
would sneak into the small gaps of the wooden partition. Contrary to
their much feared grumpy nature Naina auntie and her two daughters
allowed the boys to take the bitch and the litter in the garage to play
and take care of the canine family. The garage was where the original
four wheeler of Jeep company belonging to Mr.Kabbani used to rest.
Mr.Kabbani took great care of his American four-wheeler, it was a
sports model, a powerful machine much suited for the mountainous
terrain. Kabbanis had many vehicles mostly of American and
European make. Their latest addition was a new Mazda, a small white
car. Every other day the cars were lined up and they were washed and
waxed by the drivers, some two three in all. Kabbanis had some other
vehicles like trucks etc. There were two three buses as well. The
Kabbanis were into many businesses like transport, fruits, as they
owned Orchards and also Carpets, some handicrafts as well. However
there main stay was logging Contracts. Next morning it was just
Bilqis, Saif and Ahmed as the schools have reopened after the
The Riparian Neighbours106
vacations. Bilqis around 11.00 am that morning asked here two
younger brothers if they wish to accompany her to Arasta’s school
nearby. “ Would there be something to play with”, little Saif asked
with eagerness. “ yes yus yuuus, my dear younegr brother, as she kisse
him on his cheeks. Saif swung his arms around her neck.Bilqis picked
him up and spoke to her mother, “Ammi I am going to Aratsa’s school
and expect us around lunch time…” Bilqis said loudly as she picked up
Saif’s shoes from the small thatch stand, made of scraped walnut-wood
, placed at the Main Door. “…would they allow you people in during
the school hours..?”, Usamah asked from her bedroom. “ … they are
preparing for the sports festival at the school so there shouldn’t be any
problem, Arasta asked me to come along to meet her friends there.”
Bilqis as she walked with Saif in here arms towards the master bed-
room. “ very well, take Ahmed also.., alone he will feel bored. ”, “ I
am taking your dear son along, don’t worry about that…?, She
waslked twords the main door an opened the gate where Ahmed was
waiting. Ahmed extended his hand to take the small bag which Bilqis
held in her arms. Bilqis bit surpised at the generosity, handed her bag
to Ahmed , who then opened the main door. As Bilqis with Saif in her
arms, Ahmed stooped to call their cook to close the door. The cook
rushed out of the out-house , adjusting his Kashmiri cap on his head. “
coming coming Ahmed baba”. “Please close the door”. Ahmed turned
away and shutting the door behind him. Bilqis with Saif was walking
few steps ahead, Ahmed paced to join them. They climbed the steep
road ahead turned right with the paddy fields on their left. They
walked silently on the road, the sky was crystal clear and shining blue.
On their right was the row of bungalows. They walked briskly in the
afternoon Sun, which was not very hot, coupled with light breeze
The Riparian Neighbours107
blowing across. “Appi there are fish inside…” Ahmed pointed towards
the paddy fields, where the farmers were sowing the crop. “you mean
in those fields…!” Bilqis looked over her shoulder with her neck
slightly bent backwards, Saif also turned his face. “that day there was
no fish here..” Saif exclaimed . “you also came here with bhai53”
Bilqis asked as she held his face close to hers with affection. “ No , yes
there was Amrjit, and his two brothers, Pintu also, but Arman was not
there, he was angry with all..., so we did not to his place”, Saif spoke
with childish innocence. “Hummm, I see.., you like to go for
fishing…?, Bilqis to Saif. “I don’t know”, Saif gestured with his
hands simultaneously, as one is not sure.
Bilqis was wearing traditional white shalwar kamiz like the
some of the girls at the Black gate. This was the school. A simialr face
appeared and took them inside the grounds. This was Arasta. Te scholl
had an impressive building, a chapel and residential quarters for the
Nuns, some of them from foreign missions. The Principal was on the
round alongwith two other teachers. The Prinicpa wearing White robes
like a Convent Nun, she had a rosary in her hand with a small silver
cross dangling. Of the other two teachers one was a Nun wearing Grey
robes with like-colored head cover. She had a cross hanging from the
belt at the waist. The other teacher was in Saree, this was the Head
Mistress. Arasta introduced her guests to her prinicipal, who was a
European and very warm, though with stern looks. She spoke
commandingly, yet carried a charm. Bilqis gently bowed bedning here
knees and head simultaneously, Ahmed and Saif wished the teachers .
“In which school do you study ?” to Bilqis, as the other two looked
around and talked to their staff about the progress on arrangements for
53 Urdu for brother.
The Riparian Neighbours108
the rehearsal that evening. “ I am studying at Convent of Jesus and
Mary, Delhi, Ahmed and Saif study at St.Columbus. He is in sixth
standard and him in KG. We are overstaying our vacations…”.
“Well you must hurry back to your schools , God bless you!”
Principal walked away with the teachers. Arasta introduced the three
some to her friends and said, “Nudrat and nafis are sisters and they can
help auntie shop silk at the factory, nearby. Their father is the General
manager there, they stay also in the same premises, a very nice
place..”paused and then resumed “…its bit scary ,with deep foliage
and huge trees, its like that kids story where the little girl visits the
granny and sleeps in the bears house” hihihhihihi….they giggled
together. Ahmed stood silently behind the circle which the girls have
formed. “Ahmed you stay here ,you cant go to the hostel section, we
will be back soon,” then she shouted at the girl in the Basketball court,
“Shashi, he is our friend, join him for some time”, then she turned
again to Ahmed as the other girls walked together with Bilqis and Saif
towards the hostel “..you play basket ball… or any sport she is our
team captain, ask her for any indoor or outdoor sport”, Ahmed nodded.
Arasta took a few steps and then stopped and swirled back with her
scots skirt flowing, you can hihimmm…. certainly flirt around that is
if you want…” she enjoyed teasing Ahmed. Ahmed tried to hide his
smile. He walked towards the basket-ball court adjacent to the same
was the volley ball court, then at distance was the lawn tennis court.
Ahmed with his disarming smile asked Shashi “ Hi I am Ahmed , how
are you ?” “Oh I am fine, so your from plains..” “Sorry ! I couldn’t
follow you…” “ Ahh I mean you are from Delhi, in kashmir we call
rest of Indians as people from Plains.., nothing offensive, just the
tradition.” Shashi bore typical Kashmiri features but her blue eyes
The Riparian Neighbours109
dominated the facial looks. She was bit tall for her age and athletic
built, almost height of Ahmed . “ you are the first Kashmiri pundit I
have met since my arrival here, tell me something about your part of
society, I hear you guys are different types and don’t mix with the
Muslims and others here.” “ I do not know who told you all that, cant
you see for yourself, may be what you say was true in past but not
now. Ina any case you cannot subvert the majority community” They
reached the Gmaes room where they picked two fibre raquets. “ these
racquets are pretty expensive ones. I purchased two from Pakistan,
mine is Addidas, I play lawn tennis for my school, then I also go to
Sports club in Delhi” , “you aspire to be in Indian team…”Shashi
smiled. “Well my friend you never know, fate may just shine anytime
anyday…” “So you are a fatalist..” “No no…!” Ahmed quipped, “…I
was trying to explain to you in simple terms…” “ you are good at
mixing words…” Ahmed simled and tried to change the topic “you
girls tend to mature, fast, read mind well..” Shashi looked at him, and
said “ why did Arasta say something to you…?” “Ahhh….mmmm….”
“ you don’t have to act like hiding something, she is my best friends
and we share it all” “hmmmmmm, the girl talk” Ahmed tried to gain
ground here. The two started to play tennis. Ahmed was good at power
game, but Shashi played with her skills and baseline game, she used
her height and athleticism to overcome forehand smash and the game
at the Net by Ahmed. They played for some half an hour. Ahmed won
with ease loosing just one game towards the end of the last set, he
couldn’t afford to disenchant the lady.
“Can I treat you to a cold drink, at the canteen” Ahmed “Aw,
that is good idea, but you cant go inside , I will fetch for two of us”
“then please allow me to treat you” As he slid his hand into pocket of
The Riparian Neighbours110
his jeans, “Oh no no.. please..Ahmed , you are my new friend” “…
Please I insist, let it be on me…” Shashi started to walk away “Ok
then something to eat, is on me…”, Shashi turned “…you are
persistent and chauvinist too..hihhihhi…” Shashi took the note from
him and ran with her pony swinging at her nape. They shared burgers
and the cold drinks, seated on the bench in the Park. “I like coke
somehow this new Indian brand is not to my taste” Shashi as she
sipped and looked at the bottle. “ Well this is real stupid and
strange…” he took a bite “…when we went to Pkistan two months
back, Coke and Fanta was very much in the market in both large and
small sizes, so were parker and sheaffer, now when we reached Atari,
for the drink, one finds these unrecognizable Indian brands, hardly any
taste and match for the Coke and Pepsi” . Shahshi nodded, they both
looked around when Shashi said “ …these politicians are silly lot…”
“Shashi your best friend Grand-father is one, who is a Minister too,
just remember that subtle difference…” Shashi puts an agitated look
“…so what I can speak what is true, we are taught in the convent to
speak and stand for the truth. Also the character of women is
indefatigable.” “ Alright we get the point..” what do you man WE?” , “
Ah , that’s my habit moreover the Royalty in England refers to itself as
We and in India WE would be translated for hum, the pronoun in Urdu
means both ‘us’ ; not the US..” he smiled and continued in the same
breadth “…and aaa…’me’…you understand now” “you are impressive
with words dear boy, what do plan to be politican or a Lawyer” “No
Iwish to become a writer, a creative writer” “ Where do you think you
will earn a living..” Shashi with sarcasm. “hmmmm you are write a
creative writing does not feed here, I am sure by the time the stage
arrives, things will be very different.” “you are optimistic” “ you got to
The Riparian Neighbours111
be that is what is creative or rather makes you creative” “Alright what
have you written so far, lets see if you even qualify as a creative
peron” Shahsi emphasised creative in a teasing tone. “ Ahhh I wrote
one poem on yor friend…” “I know that, but that doesn’t make you a
poet damn it or whatever you want to be…” Shashi was always an
aggressive person when it came to discussion. Her intimidating style
would make strangers loose confidence. She tried it everytime she
spoke with the boys. Theirs was all girls school “No I have written
some more poems, and some short stories.. some of them were
published in my school magazines”. “…they let you print all this
romantic stuff” , “ Iwas the editor of the school magazine for the
juniors then..” Aa ha !” and then she gave a hearty laugh, and quickly
got up clearing grass ends from her skirt. Ahmed also stood up
checking his jeans. The grass was somewhat wet, it was being
prepared for the next days Sports event. He took out his handkerchief
and said “ here there is some sauce on her shirt sleeves” Shashi
checked it and looked at him “No down under at the cuff. She turned
her sleeve with her other hand, and took her handkerchief which was
neatly tucked in the belt of her skirt and cleaned it off. She asked
Ahmed to wit at th railings, while she will see if the others will take
longer to come out. Ahmed kept his hanky into his back pocket. He
would always keep his hanky in the left back-pocket. His wallet in the
pocket of his shirt. That day he was wearing his new Chritian Dior T-
shirt a white with brown horizontal linings. His levis new shining blue
color Jeans and Nike snikers with a Casio sports colourful watch made
him stand out with the girls, who passed by. Ahmed in past few
months has grown in height and although slim he has gained weight in
proportion.
The Riparian Neighbours112
Ahmed stood near the railings next to the building façade, he
stood facing the ground. There were more girls who came in their
respective school buses to parctice for the next days competition.
Ahmed thought how other boys would envy him when he narrates the
same to them that evening.
“Are you Ahmed…” Ahmed looked back where the voice
called and without waiting for his answer the voice concluded “…you
can leave, your sisiter and others will be late”. The girl seemed to be in
haste, Even before Ahmed could ask, she stopped and took few steps.
Ahmed holding to the wall of the corridor, which was laid with small
plants. Ahmed amazed “..Get off it, your sister will reach home at
2.00, she will have lunch with us, tell that to your mother”. The girl
then simply vanished. Ahmed walked home and told his mother what
the girl has said.
Ahmed laid in his bed and read a few magazines and then
dozed off. There were no ceiling fans and there was hardly any need
for then. “ “Ahmed O Ahmed O Ahmed”, his mother was calling. As
he opened his eyes it was Amarjit and his two brothers, Pintu and
Arman who were holding two small puppies, which were cooing . His
younger brother was fast asleep on the other cot. “We got them today,
now we can play with them as well”, Amarjit spoke. “ Come out to my
lawn, we are waiting for you lazybums” Arman in his usual heavy
tone. Ahmed knew why Arman was pissed off, Amarjit that evening in
the car has told him that Arman did like any of the boys talking to his
sister. He was over-protective. Even if somebody would go to his
house asking for him, he would resent that.
The boys that evening prepared a small comfortable place for
the litter next to the garage. Each one contributed something. Arman
The Riparian Neighbours113
bought some old blanket, Pintu brought a basket, Ahmed and Arman’s
driver got some wooden planks used for packaging to make a small
house for their Canines. The house was placed in the shade of the
gargae roof. The bicycles belonging to Arman and his sister were
parked there. This was also a small passage with a temporary door
making access to the lawn from other end where Pintu and his family
lived. They were also tenants at the ground floor. This was the only
place which was acceptable to Mrs.Kabbani who was not a Canine
patron by any standards. It was Mrs.Kabbani whose permission was
indispensable for such things. A strict Landlord she was . Once the
boys plucked the cherries from her orchards woithout informing her
gardener, the same evening she knew someone has plucked the
cherries. The gardener was severely reprimanded for his lapse. The
boys sympathetic to the gardener, admitted the same to Arman. He
asked them to keep shut for his mother would froget it all in day or
otwo. Else one would be the target of her anger and angst. The lady
could be cantankerous sometimes. Her moods had many faces, she
could misbehave and insult anybody, so people with experience were
cautious; when in generous mood. Ahmed’s mother found her a
different woman, she never misbehaved or talked ill with her.
However it was Arasta who was friendly with Ahmed’s mother,
Usamah. Usamah found that it was Arasta who was popular of
Kabbani women. Arasta was active in neighbourhood welfare
schemes. She made her Grand-father sanction proper sanitation and
road facilities for their colony. The Association of the Bungalow
owners felicitated the young girl for her efforts. Arasta was also
involved with the Boat-people, the shikarawalas, at the nearby jhelum
river banks. The day Prime Minister came, she led her school
The Riparian Neighbours114
delegation, explaining their intervention project with the shikarawalas.
The intervention program was generating awareness in this class about
hygiene and literacy. Very often the young children would not have
the opportunity at the school. The health of the young girls was also
the topic. Shashi’s mother who headed the nearby District Hospital,
was a special invitee to this project. The Prime Minister was impressed
and praised the convent for the successful young Indian women they
were producing in their institution. The Presnetation Convent school
was culture in itself. So were many other boys and Coed schools,
There was a chance that Ahmed and his brothera nd sister would have
to study here. Their father was assigned a project which would not be
completed for another five years. It was some new roads and building
of small power stations in the remote places of the valley and also the
Ladakh division. However their father wanted them to continue their
education in Delhi. He was of the view that the facilities and
opportunities there were not a match. The scene at the higher
education was still unclear. Bilqis in two years would join college.
Howevere what Saghir their father never told anybody was his fears
about the stability in the region. Any day in the news agitation on
Azadi or arrest of some militants would be there. Though Srinagar was
somewhat safe and peaceful, however the threats to those engineers
working in the Power stations, which included some Russian and
French was very serious in itself. There was very heavy presence of
the Central intelligence and also security forces to protect the key
infrastructure installations in the State. The local police was neither
equipped nor trained to handle any of the anti-insurgent measures.
However this policy would soon collapse and a state of anarchy befell
on the people of the State. An era of political murders, pillage, loot
The Riparian Neighbours115
and rampage would unleash in the State, taking heavy toll
sociologically and economically speaking. There would be the threat
to the same Convent school by the extremist movement. The nearby
paddy fields to the school would become the dumping grounds for
those murdered by the extremists. Saghir has faced kidnappings and
the threats when working in North-eastern regions, his role in War
with Pakistan, convinced him further of the bleak future for the state.
He didn’t want his children to be caught in the political cross-fire of
‘Me too policy’.
At the end of the Sports festival Arasta took Usamah and her
family to shop at the Silk factory nearby where her two friends Nudrat
and Nafis lived . They were sisters. As usual Arasta was the best
athlete of the Sports event which consisted of many girls school in
Srinagar and nearby. These were district rounds. Shashi was adjudged
second best athlete. Ahmed thought they were strange set of friends as
they were equally rivals.
Shashi, Arasta, took their bicycles along. Ahmed, Saif, Bilqis
and Usamamh their mother, Nafis and Nudrat walked ahead of the
two. After walking for twenty minutes, they all took a small forest
road which went down the main road which was built on the
embankment next to Jhelum river. There was almost invisible pillars
marking the entrance to the Silk factory, there was a small board , all
rusted, paint peeling off which read ‘Cooperative Silk factory’, this
was all one could read. The rest was gone. The board hung on one of
the posts which marked the entry. There were dried up tyre tracks
which were visible , there was plentiful and rich vegetation which
sprouted up soon. But for the track it was impossible to know your
way to the factory. Nudrat and Nafis playfully walked ahead the rest
The Riparian Neighbours116
on the small growth of grass which lay between the tracks. “Our house
is located before the factory…, if papa is there then we can straight
away go the factory it closes in an hour”. Nudrat, the elder of the two
and class mate of Arasta spoke without looking back at those walking
behind her. Both Nudrat and Nafis looked similar in appearance and
also in their behaviour as well. Very easy going, calm in their attitude,
they were not typically aggressive as their other friends Shahi and
Arasta were. Somewhat less than go-getter and more of conventional
types. Although they carried great sense of humour and knew lot of
jokes. The two sisters were good at practical jokes, sometimes they did
not even spare their own teachers and friends. As they walked, deep
into the woods. Their nostrils were filled with soft smell , it was
typical of the woods of Pine an fir, although there was some
Eucalyptus too. The CMarinar trees were omnipresent , as they were
the typical vegetation of the valley for many years now. There were
some langurs which were perched on the top of the trees and shouted
as well. This typical variety of monkeys(Change to species)* .This
typical langur was getting more extinct and rare for ebeing hunted.
The valley was equally rich in the variety of sheep and goats. The
pushmina goats were found at higher altitudes, so were the wild goats.
These wild goats were also present in Dachigam sanctuary. After
walking for another 500 yards from the main entrance. There was an
old house with colonial architecture. It appeared to be built more as
castle, than as a house. Although it was not very big. It must be spread
around half an acre or so. There was another small house adjacent to it.
This was the place where the Deputy General Manager resided. The
house was empty. At the very first glance it look deserted and haunted
as well. Some more structures could be seen in the thick foliage. This
The Riparian Neighbours117
was another colony housing some private bungalows. Interestingly
many of these Bungalows belonged to the non-Kashmiris, who could
purchase the land/building in the valley on lease alone. All the top
hotels and hospitality business managed and run in Corporate fashion
belonged to the people who are not Kashmiris. It measn that Kashmiris
had very little experience in organised business activity. This meant
that the government had to be active in putting industries which could
be of Kashmiri origin. Although this proved to be more of misnomer
than a fiscal utility concept. This was soon evident to Usamaha and her
family who could see that the Silk factory was more in to breeding
cocoons than production of silk. The unit looked old and deserted.
Some yarn was being extracted and dyed into raw silk. Here at the
factory substitute for Chinese silk was being prepared. Although this
State initiated sericulture did not seem to be popular even with their
own employees. Such a waste of efforts they thought. The Planning
board would release the finds much after the demand has been made.
This made them loose the competitive edge. It was not that there were
many players in the silk industry or that the sericulture was thriving in
Indian populace. It was the smuggled chinese silk of different varities
that was impossible to beat by these state-run factories be here in
Kashmir, be it other states in South India. “ Assalam-o-alaikum”
greeted the middle-aged man who wearing shirt and trousers with a
sweater which was buttoned up. He had small beard which was typical
in Kashmir, his hair greying. “this is Papa..” As Nudrat and others
echoed the greeting in return “walaikum assalam”. “Please come
inside , this way..” He showed the room adjacent to the front door. The
house had a palatial entrance with a lobby which opened in different
rooms. The lobby was laid by the woven plain carper with small
The Riparian Neighbours118
decorative plants, all along the lobby with uniform spaces between
them. They were placed in the local pottery. The lobby was well lit.
The room was the main lounge which was very large and had number
of sofas in different arrangements, many centre tables as well. There
were silk carpets on the floor of the room. The walls were adorned by
the Pine fruits, some hunting trophies and Tiger skin , the sofa where
the Arasta and others sat, next to the fire-place and the chital skins
adorend the back of the sofas, One culd feel the soft hairs of the dead
chital. The white spots on the Deer skin were evident very clearly. The
hide seem to be well-preserved and cleaned from time to time. One
could keep these hides if there was necessary licence issued by the
forest department or the local officer of the area authorised under the
relevant statute. The fire-place was lit up. It seem that Nudrat has
informed her parents of the visit. The Butts as they were known
popularly amongst the friends, their surname. “they live in great
luxury..” Shashi “..O, you mean you have never been to their house..”
Bilqis while others looked around the room. “No , they never invited
me…”. “ she is cynical sometimes and talks like that…” Arasta
chipped in, she twiched Shashi’s thigh who sighed. “ No I am saying
the correct thing , you cant prevent the truth from happening.” “
Alright you came today uninvited, you could have opted the same
other times” Arasta qucikly rejoined Shashi. “ I am not saying that the
girls are not nice or that they are not my friends, it is just that they
never invited me…” . A man wearing grey ferin and Black shalwar
entered with tray in his hands. Behind him was the lady of the house.
This was Mrs.Butt, she appeared to be a rustic woman, who wore the
traditional head gear which was of silk finely embroidered , deep blue
in color , she wore a firan and shalwar. Her ear rings were very large
The Riparian Neighbours119
in gold and she wore some silver thick bracelet. Her ears were pierced
all through the ear. There were small gold rings which made her looks.
She greeted everyone present and embraced Usamah and blessed the
girls and the boys. The man with the tray has brought some Kahwa for
the guests. Another man who was walking just behind her had a small
basket like thing in his hand which he placed before Mrs.Butt . She
very gent;y whi;le talking to Usamah lifted the side of here firan and
slid the small basket inside. Here arms also inside. Ahmed and his
brother watched it all silently while the girls ended chirping. Ahmed
was seated on the sofa next where his mother and Mrs.Butt were
placed. The girls were perched on the sofas in front. Then Nudrat
walked in and asked the girls to come inside the house. “ Saifooo
would you like to come along” Nudrat Saif simply got up and held her
hand and started walk out o the room with her. “this boy will feel
bored, take him along too” Mrs Butt was referring to Ahmed. “Yes,
yes, right now we are going to my room, we will take him when we go
outside”. The man with the tray who was waiting at the other end of
the room, picked up the kahwa bowls which were meant for the girls
and went out of the room. Ahmed was surprised at the efficiency of
the man. The man Mrs.Butt told was in the Army but was retired for
sustaining injuries making him unfit for serving Army. The man was
from the same village as theirs Mrs Butt told Usamah. “Are these
from the factory” Usamah pointed to the Carpet. “No factory only
makes yarn and breeds cocoon…”, At this point Mr.Butt entered, who
stopped at the door and looked back, said something in Kashmiri and
walked in. everybod looked at the door. Mrs.Butt also said something
in Kashmiri and then faced Usamah. Mr. Butt also sat in the front next
to Ahmed. “ so you go to school, still having summer vacations”
The Riparian Neighbours120
Usamah looked at them and then continued her conversation. Ahmed
sat straight as he sat resting low on the back. “Amm…, its like this, we
went to Pakistan in the month of March and came back later then we
intended to , we have been here for almost a month or more. Now our
father asked us to visit Leh, where he is currently posted, so we are
overstaying by fortnight or so.” “…so your father was posted here in
Srinagar”, “ he is the Advisor to the State government on building
Roads and Dams, may be some more of civil engineering projects, my
mother knows more…”. Usamah who was over hearing the two, once
again turned towards the two. “ she is Saghir Khan’s wife, don’t you
remember meeting him, he was with the chief Minister at the
inaugration of breeding center or lab whatever you call it “. “ Of
course I remember him and why not?” Mr. Butt hastily added. He
looked at the old Wall clock in front, as it struck Four, “ so sister,
Arasta tells me that you wish to see the factory and shop here, but then
we must visit it for we close in the afternoon at 4.30 sharp. Our
workers come from far away places. Although we provide them the
transport, yet some of them have to walk from the last point.” They
got up and started to walk towards the factory, Mr.Butt continued, as
they tread a narrow forest pathway. “…In any case it is not safe for
employees travelling late at night. This silence is deafening, Saghir
saheb is right in his assessment”. “Oh really, he never mentioned this
to me, may he never had the time, he is so busy…” Usamah looking
worried for a while. “ O I am sorry if I scared you, it is just that when
ver we meet people like you, one can talk freely and honestly..”
“anyway what is the point in hiding from the situation…” Mrs.Butt.
She seemed to be upright and straight-froward person, with little
words. She talked simple things, educated till school, but appeared
The Riparian Neighbours121
well conversant with the events happening around. She told Usamah
her fondness for news and journalists. “my wife is very happy to meet
women like you, who are creating name and place for themselves in
the world dominated by men” Mr. Butt spoke withh little smile, Mrs.
Butt smiled and said “ of course, it is not easy for women…I want my
daughters to be someone, May Allah bless them with virtues ! “
“Amen ..!” Said Usamah. “that is my mother, there…” Mrs.Butt
pointed to the Old but strongly-built lady who was plucking some
vegetables. This was the kitchen garden which was situated next to the
factory building. Two other figures stood along with the old lady. One
was Saif and another was small girl wearing wollen clothes. It was
getting cold . The sky was barely visible, as the branches of the tall
trees formed a thick screen. The factory did not have any entrance or
boundary marked. Two huge Iron doors opened into the dim lit room.
Ahmed walking slowly at the end of the three entered the room last.
“This the cocoon breeding room, this is dim lit for this reason, you
need to have dark-rooms, we feed them mulberries, the trees of which
are grown in plenty in our compound…” Mr.Butt said something in
Kashmiri to the man who was supervsing the whole process. The man
left. “ We have developed a technique with the help of the institute in
Hyderabad54”. He stopped and pointed it to the cocoons spitting the
yarn. “..Here we are trying to culture the cocoons in artificial
surroundings which would cut the loss of yarn and also the breeding
of cocoons.” He was referring to the structure which was that similar
in the vineyard, it had huge spaces in between. The structure also had
threads to which hanged the leaves with small bowls containing the
mulberries, all fresh. They went further to the section weher the
54 Capital of South Indian state of Andhra Pradesh
The Riparian Neighbours122
reserch in breeding program was going on. It wasn’t impressive,
although massisve in terms of size and rooms with huge ceilings. All
the areas were dimly lit. Their guide Mr. Butt who was the Chief
General Manager, explained to be part of cocoon habits. So the
factory cocooned the cocoons.
Their was a small shop which read, factory price. As the
factory goods were low taxed and free of other charges/taxes, so the
goods prices here was comparatively low. Income from Sericulture
was exempted from number of taxes, it was considered o be that of
Agrarian activity beneficil to the small and marginal farmer .More so
the weavers. The translation of the letter and spirit was very rare for all
such schemes, although there were some exceptions.
At the shop the girls also joined them. Most of the goods in the
factory shop was the spun silk cloth, which was from the loom at the
factory . Raw silk, and the yarn was also available. Next to the shop
was a godown and a wholesale center. Usamah bought some clothes
for here and her children. This was cheap but was not as good as the
imported Chinese silk. The fineness was missing. They also bought
some scarfs and caravt for men. Arasta bought a set of handkerchiefs.
She asked the sales lady to pack it into two packets, two in each.
“Uncle I am buying it on credit, tomorrow I shall give it to Nudrat”
Arasta spoke as she checked the pocket of her Scottish skirt. Mr.Butt
simply nodded and waved his hand, he meant its OK.
“Oh its 5.30, we didn’t realize the time” Usamah spoke
surprised as she casually glance at her watch.. “Well you need an hour
or so to just see the things, if you are interested in understanding it you
still need some three hours in all. It is very interesting to watch the
cocoons, how they spin and how the same is converted onto the yarn.”
The Riparian Neighbours123
Mr.Butt poised , as they all walked back towards his house. This time
they took a different route . There was a grassy path which went just
round the boundary walls of the factory. It was getting dark, as dusk
fell. A s feeble notes of azaan reached the woods. The muezzin called
for the dusk prayers. “ Oh you can hear the azaan here. There is no
mosque in our area, or if there is one, perhaps the speakers are not that
strong”, said Ahmed; he continued, “…actually we have been here for
almost a month, but I never heard the azaan. Our driver Hamid took
us each time for our Friday prayers at the mosque in Lal chowk.”
They eneterd the house and walked passed the room where they all sat
earlier. This time though they sat in the smaller room, whoich the
family lounge , it had TV set. a colour one which was a rarity. Colour
Telkevision broadcast was not available. So why did they have one, it
was PTV and its programs which were broadcast in colour that many
in Kashmir had colour televisions. These colour televisions were also
status symbol for the plutocracy in the valley. In this was seated the
same old lady, who had some deep wrinkles at the forehead and on the
side of her eyes. Saif and on small girl were playing with the toys
sitting next to her on a Diwan. The old lady was peeling and cutting
the fresh vegetables she plucked fom the kitchen garden, Mrs Butt
explained who these people were in Kashmiri. Usamah went close to
her for the blessings. It was common for the young to seek blessings
from the elders. It was part of regular social mannerisms. This was
true irrespective of religion or caste. It was much like the same as
serving water to the guest in India. It is one of the oldest tradition, with
origins known to be in the Buddhist traditions. The monks would serve
their guests and visitors a glass of water first. The hot and humid
climate year round made the people adopt hospitality, with a definite
The Riparian Neighbours124
utility. Water which was the origin of many wars and boundary dispute
is symbol of courtesy in Indian masses. The riparian neighbours of
South Asia were precisely the good example of water and war. The
nascent states bore the boundaries which were measured on the basis
of watersheds. The surveyors and the law enforcing tehs ame became
the tedious part of the political history. The military forces tried to
redraw the political boundaries, many times burning themselves to
desperation. The uncertainity gripped the poor and the privileged with
slight difference on occassions of crisis.
“you must dine with us oh good lady”, Arasta translated from
Kashmiri what the old lady said. The old lady only spoke and
understood Kashmiri language. Nudrat’s grand mother was eighty
years old, yet she was very active for her age, now a widow and alone
she lived in the village near Srinagar. However ever since Nudrat’s
grand-father passed away last year she lived with Mrs.Butt and her son
in law. Mrs Butt who had gone to some other room, overhearing
repeated the invitation. Usmah politely refused saying “ their father is
due to call at around 8.00pm tonight , its important as we cant call
him. He calls from an Army facility.” “ Oh in that case I shall no
insist, but tell us when it would be suitable for you people to have
dinner with us.” Mrs Butt spoke as she lifted the peeled and nicely cut
vegetables and gave it to the man who was standing near the sofa. She
spoke to him in Kashmiri. A young woman served them all tea and
pastries. She was Mrs Butt’s cousin and was employed in the factory
itself. The old lady was a freedom fighter, with Sheikh Abdullah and
his party. She belonged to a village which was completely burned
down by the British-backed Maharajah’s forces. “my village” she had
a denture placed , so the hiss sound, came every time she spoke, “ was
The Riparian Neighbours125
one of those where even four-olds sang songs of freedom and struggle
against the colonial yoke and Maharajah’s tyranny. “But then what is
the present struggle all about ?” Usamah asked as Mrs.Butt watched
the two, speaking through young translator Arasta ,she gently sipped
her tea. “ this I cant say, I am no longer political, whatever I can say, is
what I read from newspapers” , old-lady mused. There was a silence ,
the old lady broke it “ this may have something to do which we did not
solve then, the “plebiscite” should have been done, as promised” she
paused and looked up, she glanced at everyone, then sat straight and
turned towards Usamah “the jailing of our leader and dismissal of the
governments after governments and bad elections, all destroyed any
chance of union with Indian republic” Usamah was surprised at the old
lady’s precise analysis. “ you contested any elections?”, everybody
else in the room listened to the grand-mother. Saif and little girl also
stopped playing. The two sat on either side of the old-lady. “ Well, I
contested two election, women are respected here. I won both the
elections, I saw to it that there was no rigging, it was tough, rival party
wanted me to loose, The Central forces also did not help us. But then I
told you my village is exceptionally courageous and outsatnding. Lot
of camaraderie, one big family, so we had our way, people voted and
saw the ballot boxes were sealed and not changed on their way.” She
sipped her tea and said in a low voice, brooding and contemplating “
the whole of Kashmir was not that lucky”. “ I wish to interview for my
newspaper” Usamah spoke in excited tone “ why you are a
journalist ?” Lady asked, she then quickly added “ there is nothing
interesting about me to write, in any case Kashmiris are of no interest
to Indians” “No I am sure if more of newspapers cover Kashmir, they
will understand Kashmiris, there is need to get acquainted with each
The Riparian Neighbours126
other” Usamah, while shifting through her purse, looking for her pen
and notepad. She also took out the visiting card box, which was of
Chinese make and gold-plated. “This is my card” Usamah handed the
same to Mrs.Butt . The old lady was either in pensive mood all
through the narration or was expression less. She smiled very little.
Although she was very calm and confident, given the fact, an illiterate.
Sometimes exposure and ability, take care of shortcomings. She was
the first generation leadership, which were good at grass-root contacts,
because of which they continued to be good organizer of support to
their party and its agenda. “ I shall meet you some other time say
tomorrow or day after….” Usamah , as she scribbled something on the
Notepad in Urdu.
“But do you think that you have the second generation of
leadership ?…”, “No I don’t think, it will be sometime before we have
the leadership who have the grass-root and down to earth approach.”,
“what about the militant leadership like JKLF and others” “Oh they
have their own agenda, they might succeed, if the Indian government
does not deliver its promise on development. My village still doesn’t
have many pucca55 houses , same stone and wood .Each winters there
is no electricity and water. The telephones go dead. To get treatment
the PHC doctors are not available during the winters” she took a deep
breadth as she spoke non-stop. The old lady spoke with eloquence and
with great precision. The analysis was of impartial nature of the
circumstances around. The prophecy she made would also look
probable to any avid political watcher. It grew darker as the leaves
ruffled and the tall trunks of Pine and Fir and other decidous trees
turned into slender silhouttes. The brooding old lady in these woods,
55 cemented or modern arhitecture
The Riparian Neighbours127
was the perfect mixture of natural elements of contemplation and
solitude. Suddenly there was a loud cloud burst, surprising all those
inside the house. The sky was clear, and now it seemed to rain any
moment. “I think we must leave immediately, as it is getting late and
now this rain, none of our servants at home…..” Usamah hurriely kept
her notebook and pen in her purse. “But how will you goo back”, Mrs
Butt, “Oh auntie its is not that far, some 15 minutes” Arasta spoke.
“No it might rain,…hmmm Nudrat get Noore, if you get wet here,
may fall ill, God forbid” Mrs Butt also got up, and asked her guests to
wait. There was the Car outside waiting for them. This was the
official car, called Ambassador a copy of original Morris. So when the
colonial masters left , the new masters christened this as the official
car. Although but for the design nothing was English about it.
Although the monopoly in the car market continued depsite some nut
and bolt technology , this car had. It succeeded the giant American
Cars which were hardly acclimatised to the Indian roads and there
dimensions. Well the Car revolution was hardly part of the scheme,
although it performance was better than east German Traby56.There
was hardly any change in the design and engine barring a few here and
there. The former Prime Ministers’ so wanted to build an Indian Car
and an empire aping and inspired by some Korean and Japanese giants
who proved themselves in the same decade. The peoples car at an
affordable price in India for the growing middle-class. Usamah and
many others in her circle would often hope to own the Japanese car.
Other cars were cumbersome and poor on performances. Moreover
this Desai government was keen on making the left-over MNCs leave
the country. The poor MNCs shifted their small operations to other
56 erstwhile East German car, the wait-in period was three years and it was rationed.
The Riparian Neighbours128
South Asian places. Undaunted like those foreign journalists who were
asked to leave during the Emergency era , they too were hopeful of
return. However as the fate of the populace would have it the return
was slated after whole decade of indignation.
It began to rain lightly as Usamah her three children, Arasta
and Shashi sat in the car and bid good-bye. This was the latest in the
series called Mark 4. The diesel version was awaited as the petrol was
getting expensive to maintain these petrol-guzzling giants. In the West
the move for fuel-efficient cars was not catching up with the State
machinery, as the State was the largest fleet-owner here in India.
Pakistan the riparian state was different, with people owning cars, as
bicycles in India. It was like anybody and somebody can own a car.
As the Car moved out of the main entrance which was marked
by those dilapidated pillars and climbed on to the main road which ran
parallel to the River Jhelum, The Car first turned right but then the
occupants decided that Shashi too had to be dropped at her home.
Alone would not be a responsible idea. The Car stopped and took a U-
turn, as it sped towards the Maren Mohalla57. The car stopped near
double storey house. It was raining heavily, in less than fifteen
minuets of heavy down pour the dark streets, were flooded. The drains
here were choked all over the town. The roads were narrow in this
area. “well we’ve been never here” Ahmed broke the silence, as Shashi
prepared to get off the Car. She politely asked to come inside. Usamah
sought to be excused for the day and promised to be at her house some
other time. The vizer of the Car broke-down, so the driver had to drive
very slowly and clean it, by protruding his out from the car window on
to the wind-screen. The mist inside was wiped again and again by a
57 Urdu for cluster of residential houses/colony.
The Riparian Neighbours129
cloth. It took them more than an hour to reach their house, to what
would have been a twenty minutes journey. The streets at Ahmed’s
end of the big house of Arasta were also flooded. This end fell into
different council zone. So they first went to the end where Arasta
lived. “ Auntie can itake Bilqis along, it is all very lonely in the house,
it looks too empty after the departure of Hunza and her family” “Ok,
but Bilqis when you want to come home phone Ahmed” Ahmed seated
in front did not react. He just looked towards his left, as Arasta and
Bilqis alighted. A chowkidar58 rushed form inside the gate with an
umbrella, he was wearing a rain coat and rubber shoes.
The family then reached home, still raining hard . They had the
Car parked right at the door steps, as the entire street was flooded with
knee-deep water. The water got logged more as the there was an open
drain which carreid the storm water. This was choked at number of
places. It was intimidating site, as if the house would get flooded.
However , as they went inside, the higher level of the house prevented
it getting flooded. Usamah quickly opened the padlock at the entrance
door of the house, as the phone was ringing. By the time she switched
on the lamp, it stopped ringing. “We shouldn’t have stayed so long
with the rains coming…” Usamah with worried looks as she unlocked
the other rooms and switched the lamps. From the master bed-room
she called Saif and asked Ahmed to lit the fire-place , for it would
make the interiors comfortable with the temperatures dropping fast.
Even otherwise the night temperature would always hover around 23-
24`C. Saif was half asleep by the time they reached home. Ahmed
went inside the kitchen and lit the gas-burner, and kept the utensils
which contained the food on it. There was hardly any need of
58 Urdu for gatekeeper.
The Riparian Neighbours130
refrigerators which was quite unlike Delhi. Ahmed then switched on
Television. This carried the news of CMLA in Pakistan was
contemplating to hang the incarcerated former Prime Minister whom
he served. Usamah rushed out of her room to hear it all. Ahmed looked
back and then both watched with glued attention. The State channel
which was broadcasting the news started to show some clippings on
the rise and fall of the imprisoned Prime Minister. It also carried of the
befallen executive head’s visit and signing of the peace accord with
Indian Prime Minster who lost power to the strength of electorate. One
could see the daughter of the befallen Prime Minister, the focus shifted
as the daughter was now active in politics and was heading the
political fiefdom. Politics in this society was still a privileged center,
the struggle for true plebian representation was getting evident and
ominous on the other side of the Sindh river59. The daughter was
slightly more than a sophomore in crude realdom of fluid politics.
“Her charming looks cannot help the MRD…she needs more than
simple courage to handle this machismo(referred to CMLA)60”
Usamah spoke, as she leaned at the wall, Ahmed silently watched the
news. The phone once again rang. “put down the volume…”, Usamah,
Ahmed quickly switched it off.
Usamah greeted the caller, with salaam, yes we went to
Mr.Butts place, the phone was ringing as I was openeing the lock at
the entrance. It stopped ringing as I reached it…..So what is the
program, ….you are calling from there…”, Ahmed stood next to his
mother, in between she asked Ahmed to lower the gas flame . Ahmed
59 River Indus, from which the name India is derived by Arabs and British, Bronze-age civilization thrived at the plains of this river which travels from CMarina, through Glaciers of Upper Siachen, cutting across the Mountain Ranges, in India and then to Pakistan, finally merges in Arabian Sea, near Karachi, such is the Riparian value.60 He very often boasted his stint at Sandhurst.
The Riparian Neighbours131
went to the kitchen, Usamah just hummed, as she listened patiently to
the caller. This was her husband. “in your drawer….” “Ok, Ok, …
Ahmed, Ahmed” she called as she held the receiver to her ear drawing
the mouthpiece slightly away from her face. Ahmed walked quickly
towards her mother, “look inside the drawer”, She pointed to the
medium-sized study table which had a wooden revolving chair .The
table had carvings at its edges, these were peculiar handicraft table.
Ahmed pulled the single drawer, which the table had at the left, it was
of walnut finish and wood. Ahmed then looked at his mother , “There
must a cheque book in a white envelope”, Ahmed shuffled through the
drawere pulled it more outside and saw a white envelope, a he opened
it, “yes there is one, should I get it there”, Usamah gestured with show
it to her. “ It says thirty thousand rupees….” , it costs three-four
thousand by Air from here…” Ahmed pulled the chair for here mother
from the single chair which were lying on the other end of the large
sitting room. Usmaham pulled it still neare and sat on it. Ahmed stood
right behind here leaning on the back-rest of the chair. The head-rest
of the chair was carved much the same in pattern as that of the edges
of the study Table. “So today is Wednesday,…no it’s a daily flight, but
its very heavily booked. There is a back-log of travellers, for the flight
each time is unable to land at the Leh Airport due to bad weather”.
She paused , as she listend to here husband “ Very well then I will ask
Mr.Kaul to arrange it all for us. He has been regularly calling us,
yesterday they have come to our house, we ate dinner together.”
Mr.Kaul was the senior officer at Saghir’s office in the Secratariat, he
was nearing retirement, he wanted to be a Deputy Secretary in the
ministry, but each time he failed to win the promotion. The man was
nice and active in the Secratariat Union, which prevented him from
The Riparian Neighbours132
doing any work on his desk. His work was being done by others. May
be he was one of those who enjoyed that way. At number of times he
asked Mrs.Khan to put a word across Saghir saheb for promotion.
Although the man was too sincere to help Usamah and her kids, than
for the sake of appeasement or any rewards in return. His children
were in USA, all three were Doctors there. He owned a palatial house
in the vicinity, he was moderately rich. As Ahmed spoke to his father
on the phone his mother went inside and came out with a telephone
diary in her hand , she went in side the kitchen, and started to stir the
large spoon in the cooking Utensil . She opened the tap sand washed
few plates and glasses for the dinner. The Kitchen was next to the
sitting room, with the pantry window, the door was on the other side
which opened into small space which was a lobby for the house. This
place was partitioned by the Plastic curtains. As Ahmed hanged up the
telephone, somebody rang the bell, Ahmed switched on the verandah
bulb and saw Bilqis with man standing behind her holding an
umbrella, it was still raining though mildly. “Abbu just called” Bilqis
thanked the man standing right behind her. It was the chowkidar, one
of the longtime servant of Kabbanis. He held many secrets and knew
all about Kabbanis. He was Mrs.Kabbani close confidante. The man
was responsible for all the news about the activities of the children and
Ahmed in particular ever since Hunza’s birthday. He was too polite to
be ignored by the visitors to Kabbanis, who rewarded him lavishly by
the tips or the bakshish. Bilqis walking into the kitchen’s direction
asked happily as she walked passed Ahmed, “so when do we get to
meet him ?”, “Ask ammi , I think in two days time” Usamah her
mother coming out of the same and went to the side table where the
phone was kept. She overheard the two “ yes may be , provided tickets
The Riparian Neighbours133
are also arranged. She was calling up Mr.Kaul and whom she asked
the favour to arrange for their travel, that the family wanted the
bookings three days after on flight to Leh from Sirnagar. The voice on
the other hand asked about Saghir and assured the family about the
reservation and their journey. “No thanks we have arranged the other
things, some shopping, tomorrow, just their clothings, we don’t have
the warm ones….Please send the Car in the evening, if possible,” she
paused and listened intently as she cleared some dust on the granite top
of the side-table with her fingers. “that would be nice, say my regards
to your Begum(wife) please !, khuda hafiz”. She disconnected the call,
“Bilqis, get the dinner”, she spoke loudly as she dialed the number,
“yes madam, Delhi number is 234567,” she hanged up, and sat on the
chair lying there. “lets us see what has become of poor Mehnaz and
Sahil, she spoke jocularly as both Ahmed and Bilqis smilingly looked
at their mother. The phone rang once again. “yes Madam, …Ok I am
holding the line, the bell is ringing,” Usamah spoke to Ahmed and
Bilqis who were now seated at the Dining table. “helllllo...” she said it
long way with her mouth slightly open as is the case when one is
overjoyed. “Mehnazu” she affectionately called the on e at the other
end. Ahmed started to pour food into his plate, Bilqis looked at him,
but kept quiet. The two changed their behaviour ever since Hunza’s
birthday, perhaps they were growing and their rival status was
receding. Moreover Ahmed as the man in the house, felt more and
more responsible. As their talked on phone. Ahmed spoke, with his
eyes fixed on the chicken curry bowl, “ I am feeling very hungry…”
and he continued with the food. Bilqis picked cucumber from the salad
plate, and walked towards the phone. “here, talk to Bilqis”, Bilqis
greeted with a salaam and started tete a tete. Usamah picked her diary
The Riparian Neighbours134
and got up the chair, she gently patted Bilqis to sit on chair. “yes my
son what are you having, you want something other than this, …want
some slice or any other thing… I couldn’t cook anything fresh for the
dinner” Usmah also sat down and satrted to pour food into her plate.
She then kept some mixed salad of tomato, cucumber, beet-root, in
Ahmed s plate “you must make a habit to eat this raw, its good for
health and is digestive in value.” Ahmed sat quiet and ate the salad, as
if saying alright it makes sense. Usamah teased Ahmed by pushing his
elbow with hers, Ahmed looked up at his mother and smiled. “I don’t
want my son to look glum,” she knew what Arasta has told Ahmed but
could’nt get the time to talk to her son. Bilqis informed her all. She
tried to draw him into a conversation. The mother and son shared a
very close relationship, they were very candid. Usamah took extra care
that her son grows up as a creative minded person. She always bought
him books and took him on such occasion and places where the
creative men and works were available. She was the mother who
would not only nurse but also groom her children. She knew Bilqis
would one day become a Medicine woman or a scientist, she excelled
in Science and had lots of patience which one would need to be a
Doctor or in research. Bilqis drew natural flair for science. Ahmed
although still young for the career direction, he too was a keen
observer of Nature, much like his uncles was fond of hunting and
Bird-watching. He would become Wild-life conservationist or one who
would sustain his living out of the same. Ahmed read lot of books on
Indian wild-life. He was quite update on things like project tiger and
coming up of sanctuaries, reserves and the problems they faced. More
recently he bought on expensive professional camera for wild-life
photography. Usamah was a modern mother who wanted her children
The Riparian Neighbours135
to be focussed and successful . Her children though naturally imbibed
the honesty and values from their father who was known for his
integrity.
“Ahmed what became of your photographs which you took at
Dachigam reserve ?” as she took a bite, chewed it then continued “…
Mehnaz”, the woman she spoke on telephone, her cousin who was
living in their home at Delhi, they were on a honeymoon. Bilqis was
still talking to Mehnaz on phone, as the two sat on the table.“…and
Sahil would be going back to the Bird sanctuary at Bharatpur, we can
go there in your autumn vacations, you can take more photographs
there”. Ahmed using his left hand lifted the transparent jug of crystal
ware with its small handle to grip, the protrusion looked too frail to
sustain the weight of the Jar when full to the brink. He poured some
water first into hers and his own glass. It was boiled as the water was
rich in minerals and salts as well, the water treatment facilities were
hardly functional. Kidney and Gallstones were common among the
inhabitants and also those who would stay for long. Saghir their father
was lucky some time back to have pass the stones through urinal
passage.
Bilqis also joined the mother and son, Ahmed was eating some
apricot and apple pudding, which they purchased form the shop last
evening. The pastry shop in more than forty-five days of their visit, did
not prepare the Pineapple pastry that evening, on account of the labour
unrest. There was some labour agitation in the whole valley for better
wages and deals for the people who toiled in the unorganized sector in
the state. It was bit unusual spectacle which the left-wingers managed
here. Although only local newspapers carried it , the national
The Riparian Neighbours136
television was oblivious. Many things were taboo at State-run small
television network.
“ why Bilqis , how about our young Salim Alis’61 photo
exhibition this monsoon in Delhi” she winked at Bilqis, as if asking
her to help him pep up. “ yes of course ,some of them are excellent,
the timing, effect of sun light, the clouds and and those Deers,
especially the fawns, which jumped around everywhere…, we must
visit Midhat auntie’s house Ammi”. Usamah gave her stern looks, she
wanted them to concentrate on Ahmed and only Ahmed. The genteel
mother wanted her son to take a clue from her. Sometimes such
juxtaposition of thoughts help one decide and overcome the flux of
thoughts. That night at the dinner it was decided that a photo
exhibition will be arranged and which will be inaugurated by the
famous Ornithologist himself.. “Ma…” children would often address
Usamah, with affection and choice, “what will Saif have..?…”, “just
the milk dear” “ ok lukewarm will do…” “hmmm.”. Bilqis wlaked into
the kitchen, as Ahmed and his mother cleared the table . Ahmed then
walked into his room. Ever since his father left for the project work,
Saif slept with his mother, so Ahmed used to be alone in his room.
Ahmeds’ room had a window which a grill a mesh wire as well to keep
away flies and mosquitoes. He switched off the lamp and shut the
door half. He further drew the curtains. After changing in to his kurta
and pyjama , he remembered that he was to offer evening prayers it
was 10.45 in the night. He went out to the Bathroom for ablutions. His
mother ans sister were already offering sala’t in the sitting room.
Bilqis handed the prayer mat to Ahmed who was going into his room.
61 He was a famous Indian ornithologist with most authentic; his magnum opus work in three vols on Indian Birds and their kinds.
The Riparian Neighbours137
Bilqis would never sleep in her room, she always would lay her
bedding on the carpet in the sitting room. Her room was at the
secluded end of the house and her window like any other rooms
opened into the Orchard. Bilqis used to sleep late and would rise late
well past six in the morning. As the windows faced East, Sun would
shine fast on hers first. The sitting room would remain dark enough to
sleep till seven in the morning. It was a family which started its day
with the dawn, Bilqis being the sole exception. Many a times she was
reprimanded by her parents and grand-parents alike. It is believed that
the women folk must be early risers only then can they get good
husbands and rear up their children well.
Ahmed offered his evening salaa’t and went to bed. As she
snuggled into his blanket, he saw the small opening in his room which
opened into the small attic. He lifted the stool lying nearby and kept it
on to the bed and climbed, he opened the small latch which was
visible. As he tried to open the same , he could feel its weight, it was
somewhat jammed to be opened by his efforts. He tried to put more
pressure on to it, as if defying the gravity. It opened with a gentle jerk,
as he tried to open it further its hinges made creeky noise. He quickly
came down and lay still in his bed, lest somebody would wake up.
Since Bilqis was in the sitting room, with dark silence around, she
could hear it. It was her habit to get up and check up things for herself.
He then stepped out of the bed with the stool still lying on top of it,
walking on his toes, he peeped out. Bilqis his siter was asleep, who
probably forgot to switch off the study lamp which was placed next to
her pillow. Ahmed switched on the night lamp and kept the lamp on
the study table after switching it off. The whole room glowed with red
lamp, as id in a ‘Dark room’. Ahmed checked the main door, liofted
The Riparian Neighbours138
the curtains and peeped out of the same. The sky was suddenly clear
and it was under moon-spell. As Ahmed drew the curtain back, he was
lit up with his prankish idea, why not leave the curtains open. Bilqis
would be furious with a well-lit room in the early hours of the
morning. However, today he was in sober mood, he smiled to himself,
glanced at his sister who was deep asleep, walked to his room on his
toes. As he walked on his toes he could feel the soft wool fibers of the
carpet tingling his feet. He once again climbed atop and opened it with
the force of his hand, he could now stand straight, the ceiling was up
to his waist. The attic was all moon lit. and the glass panes all washed
up by the rains, looked clear. As he pushed himself up with his arms,,
seating himself he stood up rubbing his hands gently to clear off the
dust which he could feel. He could smell the dusty air inside as he
walked on his toes, the ceiling was made of wood but did not make
any noise as he walked . From the glass-panes he could see the house
where the Kabbanis lived, it was shining silver in the moon light.
Although at a distance, still Ahmed could see a curtain flowing in an
out of the window, it was the only one, with the lamp on. Ahmed tried
to open the Glass pane which was installed in a window with grills
although it was bolted and locked from inside. He tried to count the
windows, this was the nearest one to the wall. “So she is still awake”,
Ahmed said to himself, as he wondered why Arasta was not yet
asleep. Then as if a miracle, a figure with hair flowing in the gentle
breeze leaned out of it and started to look towards the attic. Ahmed
suddenly became conscious thinking that she could see him. Her torso
draped in the white night-gown, merged with the lunar settings defying
the darkness of Umbra. Ahmed looke around, as he stood with his
head slightly bent. The attic was smaller to his height. It was empty,
The Riparian Neighbours139
with his toe-marks only visible, something was lying in the dark which
lay in the other corner, he couldn’t see it properly. So he walked in its
direction, his toe stumbled on the small lid, he tried to regain the
balance lest he would fall down from the opening in the ceiling. After
regaining hi balance, he walked near the object as he felt it with his
toe, it was wooden stool, a small one, which was used in the kitchen
by women. He gently stroked it to clear off the dust and blew air from
his mouth to clear the top, he turned it upside down lest there would be
any spiders. Then he took the same towards the Glass-pane and kept it
down, after having looked at it. He sat on it, and watched the White
penumbra defying the black magic of stealthy night. He gasped at her
sight. Ahmed after long time sat and started to have a feeling which
was an internal rage to speak out, to converse, to say it all. He felt this
choking feeling each time he had the urge to write. The creativity of
the thought made him restive as he was deluged by the flood of words
and sentences which in turmoil would be written and erased , this
erasing and writing would continue until the chosen words fall in
order. Ahmed could feel the heat around hi ears, he tried to wipe the
sweat with the bottom of his kurta, and bent both the ears to allow the
release of heat and cool them. The figure then stood facing his Attic,
as in telepathy. Ahmed could not understand this and believe that the
same girl is watching his house who reprimanded him not three-four
days ago for taking liberty with her. Ahmed spoke few words and
dedicated to her frialty. He named it “Umbra”, Next day he knew
what he would do. Ahmed came down and jotted down the poem,
inside his blanket, using his pen-light torch. He cleared the dust off his
clothes and feet and went to sleep. Suddenly Ahmed was elated and
back to his own self. He knew he was in command of the situation
The Riparian Neighbours140
here. Next day Ahmed decided to visit her during the lunch-break. As
Ahmed was walking towards Arasta’s school, at a distance he could
see a familiar looking figure cycling down towards him. He stopped in
amazement and joy. “Oh hi Ahmed what are you doing here?” “Oh I
was coming to your school, just to tell…you..” he stuttered and tried to
draw courage and be flawless. “…I wanted to tell you that we are
leaving for Leh in a day or two, depending on the reservation…” “Oh
really !,so soon” Arasta couldn’t hide herself. “Ahhh I mean it is a
nice place to visit, we also went there last year,” Arasta took her eyes
off Ahmed. Ahmed came nearer to her and kept his palm on her left
hand, Arasta was taken aback by his boldness, this was the street.
Although nobody was there on this street leading to the Banks of River
Jhelum, just the two of them. Arasta gently slid her hand from his
loose grip. “This is my new poem, I wrote it last night” Ahmed looked
straight in to her beautiful marble eyes , he continued “Now you are
my inspiration”. Arasta climbed down her bicycle and started to walk
without saying anything with the piece of paper in her hand. She
walked with head down. Ahmed walked just behind her with one hand
on her school bag. After walking few steps, Arasta asked Ahmed to
walk with her bicycle, as she opened the paper which was of white
colour. She began to read, and gradually fell few steps behind, as if
she lost her strength to keep pace with Ahmed. She knew she was
loosing to Ahmed, yet she was not in tears, nor did she feel any
outburst. The poem read as “ UMBRA” :
In the moon-lit plain
The window with curtain
Flowing, smelling
The aroma, spread
The Riparian Neighbours141
Of breeze, the
Intoxic extents. …1
You draped in virgin
White, laced me with
Figures of love,
Attraction, which
Were of fatal extent …2
The dark silhoutte
Of lonely me in the
Forlorn attic,
Blessed by your sight;
A vision by moon light
Might, when Umbra
Shaded the sullen
Black for your
Virgin white. …3
You shown,
You shown as if in bliss,
For me. …4
Avaricious me;
An immortal vision
To mortal self. …5
The two did not talk till they reached the gate of her house.
Arasta walked few steps behind Ahmed, her gaze fixed at Ahmed .
The Riparian Neighbours142
Ahmed all the way could not dare to look back, he walked looking
straight once or twice he looked sideways just to catch glimpse of
Arasta. Ahmed could feel the clinging sight of Arasta. Arasta just
walked inside the side gate attached to the main gate made of wood
and with strong brass nail protruding from it. In the olden days these
nails would prop up from the massive gates inth Forts and small
havelis for protection from the elephants. These elephants were used to
pull down the magnificent doors. In Srinagar, there were no elephants
nor was this a fort of any King or Nabob. Yet Mrs.Kabbani wanted
here entrance to look like a fortified gate. Mrs.Kabbani was very
particular about the secure environment inside the walls of her house,
as if the inside would ever remain invincible.
Ahmed handed over the bicycle to the old chowkidar and
started to walk away. The clouds have grown darker , as if to rain, it
hrew arker and darker, a strong breeze started to blow across , the
giants trees started to swirl as if in gay mood. The green color of the
vegetation became more greener, then there was acloud burst. Ahmed
looked at the sky and hurriedly took steps towards his house at the
other end of the giant compound. He walked some three hundred yards
when he heard someone calling from the back, the voice seemd
familiar, it was frail and said ‘Ahemd sahib, Ahmed sahib’ . Ahmed
about turned towards the voice, he knew why the chowkidar came
calling , yet he wanted his ears to hear the same “Arasta bibi, is calling
you, it is going to rain, you will get wet” the old man looked twoards
the sky. He was holding an umbrella in his han, it was large enough to
accommodate two. Then came the rain drops as the trees shook their
leaves with new resilience and force. The monsoon was here. The old
man opened the umbrella and walked a step outside the umbrella
The Riparian Neighbours143
cover, behind Ahmed. Ahmed tasked him to walk next to him lest he
get drenched. The old man was very elated by this gesture. It appeared
how Kabbanis treated their servants, it was very aristocratic and a
complete compartmentlisation of treatment for class of humans.
Ahmed walked inside the main gate, he has walked down the
same number of times, but today was different. However he expected a
meeting in the massive hall at the ground floor. This hall was more
like a reception hall of any big hotel or guest house . The seating
arrangement was very formal. It was not clear why this hall was left
with scant furniture and settings. It looked too modest for the affluent
like Kabbanis. Especially since they were very particular about their
aristocratic appearance. Arasta’s nag was lying on of the sofas. Ahmed
walked near to the same sofa. It was getting dark inside with just two
lamps lit at the door. Then a door at the far end of the room opened ,
which lit the Hall . This was Arasta, who asked Ahmed to come inside.
Ahmed lifted himself from the comfortable couch. He was very
relaxed and confident. This was Ahmed in contrast to the one which
people saw in last four-five days, ever since Hunza’s birthday.
Ahmed entered the room, which was very formal, with sofas
and a rocking chair, an Air conditioner. There were just two trophies,
panther and an antelope. On the centre table were two glasses of Apple
juice and some dry fruits bowls. The glasses were placed very near to
each other. Arasta waited at the door and asked smilingly to sit down.
She sat very close to Ahmed .So close as if their thighs would touch
each others. She was still in her school dress. Ahmed realised that she
was wearing some makeup like lipstick, eye liner and a strong
perfume, probably “poison”. The whole room was filled by the fine
smell. Ahmed was very fond of perfumes. Ahmed knew this was
The Riparian Neighbours144
different Arasta, who was willing to kowtow to his wishes. He also
thought women-folk are good organizers as well. Somebody as
beautiful as hers have to make less efforts to add looks to the settings.
It rained heavy lie a storm, the window panes became doused and the
droplets made it opaque. It was raining very hard outside. “Ahmed
have some juice” She lifted the glass and presented the same to him
with one hand below the other holding it. Today Arasta was very
respectful with him. Ahmed could sense it all. As if he could read her
mind well. Ahmed was always like that, he read people well. Many a
times he enchanted and surprised people with his faculty of reading
and enumeration of individual. Arasta locked Ahmed’s gaze with her
marble eyes, they were of blue-green colour. Her pupil had a black rim
encircling the marble finesse. The maroon shade of her lipstick was so
distinct from her cherry-coloured lips. Ahmed relaxed with his back
now resting, Arasta still sitting at the edge faced towards him, as she
gently sipped the juice from her glass leaving small impression of lips
on the edge of glass. As she lifted the French-crystal bowl, which had
walnuts she said “ I liked the poem, and gave a naughty smile, just
don’t go on writing on me, there arent many frames” “ I will name my
whole collection of poems, someday when it gets published”, Ahmed
spoke for the first time, the barrier was gone, their informal tone was
back. Ahmed at this point wanted to appreciate her looks, but then he
witheld the same, for instinct told him so.
“Don’t try to flatter me …” “Well that’s a promise”, “I
believe” Arasta took a deep breadth. After a long silence, sipping the
juice, Arasta rang the bell and asked the man, to get some more juice
for Ahmed. She knew Ahmed liked the same. So she ordered more
without asking him. She was already imposing her taste and wishes.
The Riparian Neighbours145
Ahmed was enjoying it, every moment of it. “ Ahh your parents and
Arman arent home” he hesitatntly asked as Arasta played a cassette on
the music system, which he did not notice, as it was so well
camouflaged in the deer skin. The gentle notes of a ghazal joined their
conversation in background only. Arasta casually replied, “they are
upstairs, perhaps asleep” . This made Ahmed somewhat uneasy, since
Mrs.Kabbani no longer welcomed his presence in her fort. However
Ahmed was too brave to breach her domain, in any case it was much
supported by her own daughter. Their game was too small to be play
daughter aginst the daughter, they were still too young and eager to
wait for each other. The whole tradition of majors taking bold steps
was well entrnched on this lively couple. Now Arasta has made her
willingness too obvious. It was likely to reach her mother and
everybody else in the house. The two sat and chatted and achatted til
the rain stopped completely. Ahmed and Arasta came out of the room,
they could hear the voice of her mother, who however did not come
downstairs to make her presence felt by both. They walked out of the
hosue and towards the lawn, they saw the pups were asleep, they
opened the latch to the door next to the garage and entered the big and
wet lawn. Far away some leaves and twigs have fallen on the ground,
where the tree were planted in a row, next to the boundary.
“you shoes will get wet, I will walk to my house” “ Very well,
I hear you are leving for Leh, hope to see you upon your return. Let
me say this,” she paused and then looked in front, as if trying to peep
into a distant future. “ …I still subscribe the same theory about you, so
if you are sincere, or you must prove the same” Ahmed withs erious
looks looked up, he could see Mrs.Kabbani watching them, there eyes
met. Ahmed then looked at Arasta and said “ I wish to marry you,
The Riparian Neighbours146
Inshallah, the same will come true, it’s a gentleman’s promise” .
Arasta continued without looking at him “ I hope you stick to your
words, we will always remain in touch, if you convince me without
fail, I am yours forever.” Ahmed looked and blinked with his both
eyes, as if in approval. They both turned and walked in their
respective directions.
Ahmed reached the small door in the orchard which divided the
orchard and the house in which they were staying. Ahmed tried to
push it open but found that it was bolted from the other side. He
jumped up and shouted his sister’s name, who was working in the
kitchen . The small door was visible from the kitchen window. The
door was all wet and slippery, on many occasions otherwise Ahmed
would just climb up the door in the partition wall and jump over it.
Bilqis came out with her head covered as it was still raining very
lightly. Moreover Ahmed was in a joyous mood, Bilqis could make
out that today he was different, she tried to ask , but then he tried to
silence her with his own words “ Hi Sis !, what were you cooking, try
something to match the weather and my high mood.” .He walked in a
very relaxed manner, complete with himself. Bilqis just watched him
and bolted the door. She walked past by him , quickly. Ahmed entered
into the sitting lounge where Saif was playing, he went close to him
and lifted him and embraced him. You want to go outside, come we
will puck some cherries for everyone. Ahmed walked out with Said in
his arms. They went to the two young trees which were now fruiting.
These cherry trees bore few fruits but those were sweet ones. A they
would grow old they would fruit more and more. Since the fruit was
prone to fungus they have to be really taken care of. Ahmed and Saif
plucked the cherries in Saif’s pockets. He was wearing overalls with
The Riparian Neighbours147
large sized pockets. Their mother who was sleeping inside woke up
and called them inside since it started to rain once again. Saif and
Ahmed went straight to the kitchen where their sister was preparing
for the lunch. As Ahmed washed tehcherries and looked for the bowl.
“ Here you can put them in this bowl” Bilqis placed the lovely bowl.
Ahmed ‘s mother and Ahmed shared many common tastes and
preferences, their passion for crystal crockery was something just next
to one which can be described as obsession. They have purchased lot
of Japanese crockery crystal ware, which were cheaper to those from
France or other parts of Europe including Belgium. The Customs at
the Atari were very fussy about these items, yet they had allow with
levying of duty. It was their habit to reduce the commodity which was
then distributed by them as booty. As if for token, some of the
confiscated goods were sent to the Government warehouses were when
lying unclaimed for the stipulated time , these goods were auctioned.
In much rare instance did they issue summons to the people for
proceedings under the statute. This was to protect the Indian industry,
although it was hardly doing. The repressive customs were solely
repsonsible for preventing consumerism and the boom in the economy.
Everybody realised it , yet there was dormancy. People would then put
up with lot of nonsense. The two years of constitutional emergency
has scarred the systme forever. The servants would please the master
of the house, their loyalty shifted the day new one took over. If the
master was repressive , it behaved in the desired fashion. On the other
hand, if it was not so then the servants also behaved in the relaxed and
candid fashion. The servants no longer served the house. They were
slaves of the masters of the household. The household was more or
less crumbling , as the age of crisis-management, withered like the old
The Riparian Neighbours148
houses, the system was taking the shape of a dilapidated portion and
the servants were soon to be the victims of the same. Many a times
when one would see the Old dilaptaed buildings, strcutures, the
monuments as they are referred, the loyalty of servants to the
houselhold was the reason for the loss of prime world of the
magnificent buildings and Forts, no matter hwo strong and energetic
they would be once. Next two days passed much faster than Ahmed
and Arasta anticipated. Thereafter Ahmed and his family was move to
Leh where Saghir his father was now placed.
In those two days Ahmed and Arasta met number of times on
one pretext or another. It was also for the first time that Arasta visited
Ahmed and his family at their house. Each night thereafter they slept
very late. Ahmed would go up the Attic and she would stand at the
window, just as when she inspired Ahmed to pen his thoughts. Ahmed
was getting serious more so unwillinglty,a s if some hidden force was
working on his emotive values like a balck magic art. He ever doubted
if he would ever fall prey after being victorious. However he had falen
prey to his ownself. Ahmed was extremely impressed by the challenge
posed by Arastas’ precondition to emotional trust . On one such
occasion, Ahmed wanted make their secret public. He wanted to do it
before they left for Leh. He was aaware that on his return ther would
be hardly any time for such celebration. He wanted that there
relationship was revelaed in the most secretive manner. He was very
protective about relationships, somewhat inhibitive as well. At the
same time Ahmed however did not want to reveal it all at one go. Then
he finally decided. He knew this would only bolster his image with
Arasta. In few days he has read her personal likes and dislikes.
Moreover Arasta was a simple person whose moods would reveal it
The Riparian Neighbours149
all. Ahmed was master in manipulating his emotions, a very private
person. It was strange the night next to that afternoon when they sat
and discussed their olifelong commitment Ahmed thought that night
sitting in the Attic as Arasta leaned at the window, with her hairs
flowing with the breeze, she would hesitantly waive at him, he would
send a signal of approval by switching on off his pen-light torch. He
wondered that night what was so commonbteween the two i.e. himself
and Arasta. He found that they were attractive by some genuine love
and attraction. He did not hide that this was not love at first sight.
However it was more a gradual thing than anything else. He
remembered how when he was first introduced by his elder sister , he
was attracted to this beautiful girl whom he found difficult to ignore.
This was less than three weeks earlier, He never was short of girl
friends, including some nice looking ones. However this became
exception. Ahmed could not sleep that night thinking why Arasta
became an exception ?. Was it here demeanour, very aristocratic and
discreet, yet accessible. Strong and valiant yet vulnerable. He
pondered and pondered, until the crack of dawn. He could hear the
puppies which started to call in the morning itself. Arasta waved him
goodbye around midnight.
Today was the last day of their stay in Srinagar, Arasta, as
yesterday, came to Ahmed’s house for the Lunch. Mrs.Kabbani was
intelligent, she thought this was a passing phase for her daughter,
which would just die down . as the visitors would leave. Although she
knew her daughters’ resilience and perseverance, yet Arasta’s mother
treated her as kid. She was not wrong in thinking so. However,
although Arasta and Ahmed did not get to marry each other in the end.
Ahmed and Arasta remained loyal to each other for a very long time to
The Riparian Neighbours150
come. Ahmed married to another girl on her insistence. They were too
busy to think of the dire straits lying ahead in future.
Unaware we chart our course of life, the kind of optimism
which keeps the world throbbing with passion and life. Evnetuality is
part of the bizarre element in human existence. However the ones
driven by passionand others driven by avarice or greed stunt there way
mch beyond than those with pessimisn and depressed attitudes.
Although tehre is no denial the two lead qualitatively different desire,
which have what is synonymous for years now i.e Cann and Abel.
“Ahmed come on boy its 9.00 clock, we have to go to the
bazaar…” Ahmed’s mother called, as cleaned the room. She removed
the surtain and tucked them. Ahmed pulled his light quilt to cover his
face from the bright day light. “Ahemed, O’ Ahmed, did you not hear
me O’son.” She came near to him and gently scruffed his hair. Ahmed
still wriggled inside the bed.
“Alright you get anothr half an hour,.., I do not know what is
happening to this boy”. She went murmuring outside. Ahmed simply
looked outside the window he realised today was the last of their visit
in Srinagar to reveal to his plans . As he was climbing down the attic
he decided the same .
Ahmed was getting out of his bed when he heard the bell
ringing. “Ah h ha look who is here, you didn’t go the school ?” “No
auntie the strike is still continuing, so the schools are closed for the
day” . Ahmed could make out Arasta’s voice. Hers was very soft and
sweet as well.
“Bilqis, I feel really bad that you people are leaving…” “Well
why don’t you join us to Leh, I am sure we will go beyond that”, she
pause as she wiped the dining table, Arasta stood near her picking
The Riparian Neighbours151
some plates in her hand. “Papa called this morning so he said we might
vsist border areas, and the Nubra Valley, you know ladakh scouts..”
she pause and looked at her whiled handing some glasses from the
table. Araasta while while walking towards the kitchen with the
glasses in the tray, she tried to peep into the rooms and also while
coming out after placing the same in the kitchen. she tried to catch
glimpse of Ahmed, who slept in the room whose door opeened in the
lounge . This door was still half close and the curtain were drawn.
However she could not draw courage to ask, for him. Bilqis standing
on the other end of the table could see Arasta’s predicament in her
conduct, as their eyes met. Bilqis tried to ignore, to avoid
embarassment to Arasta. Bilqis and Araasta were very simialr in their
nature so they paired well.
Ahmed who would spend longer than what is usual time for
others in the bathroom , today he was quickly out of the bathrrom
which was attached to his room. He hurriedly wore his ironed, white
embroidered kurta and pyjama. He combed his hair put some deodrant
and perfume. He looked himself in the mirror just to check his looks.
His beard was growing thicker and darker, so was his moustache. His
face-cut would never tell his age, his features were sharp though,
which made him look smart and handsome. Ahmed smiled to himself,
and walked out of the room without his slippers. Just when he was
about to the open the door of his room, he realised that he could feel
carpet-tingling in his feet. He looked down and quickly bent down to
pick his slippers under the almirah in the corner.
He walked confidently out of his room. Turned right and
walked straight into the kitchen. Then he quickly came out and looked
where Arasta was sitting, on the sofa, in the lounge. He pulled a chair
The Riparian Neighbours152
while wishing her Arasta looked up with a vivacious smile . He started
to have his break-fast. Bilqis placed the plate and glass for him and
served Kashmiri Naan62 and butter. The moment Bilqis left, it was
just the two of them in the lounge. Ahmed looked at her and as if by
instinct so did she. Ahmed in spur of moment, or lost to his emotions,
winked at her. Arasta amazed, booed him. Ahmed gave a naughty
smile while devouring Naan, he poured some water after finishing the
same he poured some juice in his glass. Ahmed gestured to sit near
him at the table. Arasta got up and walked near the table. “What are
you eating ?”…she then asked and continued “huh huh , you are a
typical kashmiri” “why you guys have juice in the morning” “No we
don’t, we eat them, we don’t crush them , as we value them for their
freshness and fruit value.” “Ok you dont have to lecture me , people in
the West prefer juice in the morning” “ I dont know about the West,
but in this part only the sick and feeble drink in form of juice for
nourishment.” and she bursted into laughter. Ahmed tries to escape her
fun, but couldn’t help smiling. They now began to cherish every
moment they spent together. Meanwhile Bilqis came in with Kahwa.
She quietly went into her room, without saying a word. Ahmed and
Arasta took their cups to sit at the sofas which were lying on the other
side of the large room. “It might rain, the clothes are still hanging
outside” Ahmed s mother called from inside. “… I heard you saying
there was some strike, so what about market. Will it be open?”,
“ammmm…oour school was closed as a matter if precaution than any
other reason”. They were referring to the strike which was called by
the pro-autonomy political groups there. Moreover the strike for
making Ladakh region integral with the state of Jammu and Kashmir
62 This is like any other Naan but is of small size and is very brittle for the taste as well.
The Riparian Neighbours153
was very successful through out the mountainous region and the
valley. It was believed that this would then give the State more
political voice in the Parliamanet and the Assmebly as well. This
wasn’t a populous province. The need for political muscle dawned on
regional forces long time back. This was now manifesting into a
movement. The coalition government in the Centre was much a
welcome stage for such evolution. However it wasn’t very serious i.e.
the call for strike. The schools however,for fear of sporadic violence,
always closed down till normalcy was assured. The assurance was not
to come from the adinistration but was to be read in the conduct of the
political wings and groups, specially the aggressive and militant ones.
It would only take few minutes for the normal streets to turn bloody.
The test of scale of antcicipated violence being if no damage to the
public property was reported for next day or two. People in the valley
knew what the movement was against or say what the aim was.
It was the nature of state, which they were against not the
public by and large However the State employees were the possible
exception only. Although these days the situation was not so grim.
Many groups were hopeful of the new Prime Minister. A new Central
Minister for the Kashmir Affairs was a new hope, much some thought
like Secretary of Ireland. The Westminster model was desperately
trying to search for the solution, drawing inspiration from other
systems facing such political secession. However it si very incorrect to
folow the models, the model to individual crisis develops as the Crisis
develops or evolves through its stages of peaceful means to violent
means. The combination of the two means or complete divorce
between them.
The Riparian Neighbours154
Usamaah and Bilqis were getting ready for some last minute
shopping. Saif came running to the lounge with socks in his hands. He
looked for free-hand, so approached Araasta talking to Ahmed. She
was holding a magazine in which she was least interested . It has been
lying in her lap half open ever since she came. On seeing Saif with
socks in his hands she spoke “Come dear, I will help you wear them”.
Saif sat next to her. She held his feet, and appreciated the sticker on
the socks. “this is six million dollar man, he is very powerful…” Saif
innocently. Ahmed was enjoying pudding after his breakast as he
chatted with her. Ahmed was very fond of sweets and enjoyed eating
variety of meals and dishes. He preferred local cuisine than to what
they would generally eat at home, as a norm. Ahmed was quite a
cosmopolitan that way. Of course he was very particular in his tastes
of Non-vegetarian, he only preferred halala.63 “Araasta would you
come shopping…” Biqis asked, as she ironed her clothes at the stand
lying in the lobby.” Arasta faced her side and said “Is everyone
coming”. “..except Ahmed, everybody else is…”. Bilqis responded in
somewhat shrill and irritated tone. The duo Ahmed and Araaasta
enjoyed this reponse and smiled at each. They were happy that their
relationship was gaining credence and people around were beginning
to notice it with an element of seriousness. Even if that seriousness
was equally recent and overcast with an element of doubt. The doubt
was more on Ahmed who did not carry an image of stability when it
came to his girl friends. Ahmed being a handsome looking boy, with
innocent looks was an instant success with girls. His features coupled
with his articulate self, worked wonders in gainaing friends. It was not
that they were girls, just that he was equally at ease with them. As
63 The preferred one(that allowed/permitted)
The Riparian Neighbours155
would most boys be of his age, eager to have grils friends or to mix
with them,not knowing however the way to go about the fairer-sex. It
was his liberal upbringing that went as an important input in moulding
his attitude and behaviour towards the boys and girls. Although bit
discreet in his company. He only had few fast friends . Ahmed was
very sure about the lasting relationship and the persons around him.
His mother who was crucial to his parenting, influence him to the
extent of bring discreet about his company, particular in terms of
mental aptitude. Usmaha his mother was insistent on the scholastic
bent to her children. Her children responded equally well to her
expectations. Itw as a perfect sample of educated class. Although
Saghir Ahmed’s father was a busy man with site work, his guidance
was always there. Although this gave them single parenting most of
the time. Usamah their mother knew the challenge, so she decided on
free-lance job than a fixed career and office routine.
“Well if Ahmed is here then let Araasta be here also, she can b
a company”, Usamah said as she checked herself in the mirror placed
in the lobby, she continued “Anyway I am expecting Midhat to join us
at the Lala chowk bazar..” . “ Oh really..! Ma.” Bilqis loudly from her
room where she was getting ready. Meanwhile the bell at the door
rang. Ahmed went to the Main gate and opened it.
“Ma the Car is here…” Ahmed spoke from the lounge and
went to the sofa where Araasta was sitting. “why don’t we take the
chairs outside, its pleasant there” He said to Araasta while standing
near her. “ why chairs, I prefer to sit on the grass, it must be dry…”.
They bid good bye to the three. “Ahmed why don’t you show me the
attic,” Araasta excitedly spoke in a high tone. “shhhhh no that loud,
that chowkidars of yours, that spy of your mother must be around…”
The Riparian Neighbours156
Ahmed tried to calm her. “Ahmed don’t talk about my mother like
that, alright she is fussy but that does not gove any of us the right to
talk in disrespectful tone” “ I am sorry dear, I didn’t mean that…!”
Ahmed held her hand as if assuring her. They sat down at the grass
and talked and talked about their child hood and likes and dislikes.
“Ahmed why don’t you show me some more of your poems, or you
have written just two of them” Arasta tried to tease him. Ahmed
quickly got up and rushed into the house and fetched a red-colour
diary. As Araasta read them all, Ahmed watched her. She read them
all, must be twenty odd poems. “who among the poets have inspired
you?” “ Well I am inspired by many poets,although I read very little
poetry…”.he paused and looked at the tall and huge euclalyptus tree
whose thick leaves hid the sun whereby creating a huge shadow on the
house and the lawn in front. “ aa.. ya I was saying…” he tried to
recollect “my problem is the medium, I can only write in english,
although my content is what you find in Urdu poetry, Ghalib, Faiz,
Iqbal and many others inspire me. More recently I came across a poet
who has experimented in the Urdu poetry. It is unique. All the peoms
begin with a common sentence ‘Purani baat hai lekin ye anhoni si
lagti hai’ (its an old saying which appears strange). My mother is great
fan of this poet, he visits our house in Delhi.” Arasta continued to read
his peoms as Ahmed talked to her.
“you are a good poet, however I find it strange,” she paused
looking at the diary again, said “ this is rather starnge to find
somebody like you, never writing a romantic peom. I find only the
ones date more recently , those dedicated to me only fall as romantic
poetry.” “ ..Poetry my dear is inspiration and thought put together, in
your case romantic views and attraction came together, rather I should
The Riparian Neighbours157
say that it clicked, it sort of fitted in that frame called Poem.” Now
come read all later, I will show you the attic. They left the diary in the
lawn and went into Ahmed’s room. Ahmed as susual kept the stool on
the bed and pushed the wooden opening , which flung open making
noise as it hit the ceiling. Ahmed helped Araasta reach up and then he
pushed himself up. The two with their heads slightly bend looked
around “ I never knew there was an attic in this house, in fact it is for
the first time that I have been around this house. In the beginning it
was a godown, then an out house, later on it was converted into a
house with some alterations.You are the second tenant we have” “ of
course you were not friendly with them..so…” Ahmed tried to tease
her. She lightly slapped him on his cheek. The two stayed around for
sometime Araasta noticing the dirt, asked him to get a broom or a
vacuum cleaner if it was there. “Ours doesn’t work.. I will get the
broom” “ Oh and bring something to lift it all, a dustbin perhaps”
Ahmed went down and brought the dustbin and the broom. Araasta
covered her face with the long dupatta 64she was wearing. She asked
Ahmed to cover his mouth with the other hand. As she lightly
broomed , stoking the dust. The air inside became heavy. The two
coughed. Ahmed tried to open the small grill which was locked form
outside. Ahmed broughta jug of water from the kitchen threw it on the
ceiling to settle it. He also brought a duster to wipe it. They came
down all in the dust. “My god look at my face and clothes they are all
dirty..” Arasta as she looked in the mirror while washing here hands
and face in the Bathroom. “ Madam you must learn hwo to clean and
wash, I am not a rich man, cant afford the servants” , Ahmed taunted
64 long piece of veil which women wear to cover their heads or simply throw over their shoulders , generally worn on shalwar and kamiz.
The Riparian Neighbours158
her. “ Yes you are right , it is one thing to supervise and other to do it
all yourself” Araasta replied seripously, her face all covered with soap.
They walked outside in the lawn. “ it must be one o’clock or aorund
that” “Ahmed looked at the wall behind and said “yes, its quarter past
one…bu why do you ask, you are having luch over here with your in-
laws” “O, O, so we will see…” “ Come on, this way we spend some
more time together” Ahmed couldn’t believe he was honestly
expressing his feelings. Although Usmah and others were expected at
Lucnh they did not. The duo were already feeling hungry so, Araasta
looked in the kitchen for all that was available to satiate their apetite.
Apetite and Company are directly proportional. “ Well I am not good
at cooking…buuutt let me try this…” “Oh you are good at cooking lots
of things” “A h m e d “ she snubbed him at the pun of the word.
Ahmed helped her made th soup, it was a lamb soup. There was some
bread, so she made sandwiches. “what would you like to have the
sweet, sweetpie…!” “Ahmed , that’s enough for the day.” They went
out and sat in the lawn. “I will get the ketchup…” “ Oh see if there is
some other chilly or coriander sauce” Arasta was wearing impeccable
white shalwar-suit, with heavily embroidered long traditional Shirt. It
was very finely embroidered. “Here, Oh I just noticed, you are
wearing fine embroidery work”, Arasta looked at it and said, “ Oh I
am also learning it from my mother, it takes six-seven months to create
such a piece…” “you mean t_h_a_ o_ u_ t long” Ahmed spoke in
unclear voice with his mouthful.
“Araasta, how many children would you love to have” “ Oh I
would love to have houseful of them, provided you earn that much”
“A ha !” “If you keep on being creative, I seriously doubt your
potential” “ Well you may be correct in presuming that the Creative
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men in this land cannot run their families by just ‘writing business’, “
he grew pensive “…But” he spoke with a stress on the word, “…but ,
this country or perhaps the society is once again going to respect the
freedom of thought and people with vision and rebels likely.” His face
wore much seriously look . Arasta was still in a playful mood. “…
look the ultimate test is the Intellectual capability and richness…”
Arasta pretended as if she was not interested in this conversation.
Although she intently listened to him. They shared the understanding
which was more of the supportive woman behind the successful man.
Arasta was appreciative of his acheivements however she love to eatse
him as, as he would occassinal get defensive and emotional. The two
then locked the house and went towards the garage where the pups
were playing. They took them out of the small make-shift dog-house.
All the pups were of fawn color and resembled their mother. The duo
cuddled them and kept them in their hands. It was bit humid and
smelly there so they decided to go to the lawn. The pups which could
now move to some distance, tried to crawl around their feet. Arasta
called one of her servants and asked him to fetch the Basket-ball. The
court was right behind the garage and the basketw as fixed at the wall
of the same. “You know that this game least interests me..” “ Very
well, Mr.Ahmed two people can’t play hockey or foot-ball which you
love to play.” Arasta dodged Ahmed and marked a basket. “ you really
play well” “ Not better than Shashi…” she was referring to her school
friend and classmate. Ahmed tried to blacok her throw by jumping, his
fingers barely touched it and it went swerving away from the basket.
“…That doesn’t make you any good player” angrily she spoke making
faces. “So why be angry… are we proving something here” “ …the
competituive s pi r i t ,yuuu hahh…!” as she lunged from the left side
The Riparian Neighbours160
outside the ‘D’. “ Hah competitive spirit…!” he mocked at her and
continued “…ever heard of the World War era…” He was very fast
barely keeping ball udner control, and jumped higher and reached the
basket “ this game was born then,” he grinned at her. Arasta wiped the
sweat , her face now deep red colour. She tied the long dupatta over
her left shoulder which was then tied around her waist. She was
playing bare foot, so was Ahmed. Theoir feet all soiled and dirty.
Ahmed was very fair, yet the pink complexion Arasta stood fair when
compared. As they stopped to drink some water,they saw Bilqis
walking towards them. She entered the Lawn from the Main gate and
slowly walked her on the walkway, her dupatta65 lying loosely on
head. She always wore it on her head . Arasta wore it more formally
than what the dupatta was intended for , or as worn by the sub-
continent muslims. It was a substitute for the scarf or the loose head
garment, worn as a veil.
“what took you so long…” Arasta shouted at her , as she
poured some chilled water at her feet and around neck. Bilqis kept
quiet and looking staright in Ahmed’s eyes she said “ you have locked
the door, and on top of that playing here. You left everybody
wondering, whatever happened to you?,” She started to walk away
after reprimanding Ahmed. winked at Arasta and with his fingers on
his lips gestured at her to remain silent. The two started to walk behind
her. After walking a few steps, “ now there is no point, you go on
with the game”. She kept walking on the pathway which ran in the
middle of the Orchard. “ I will open the door it is locked”, Arasta
increased her pace walking past Bilqis with keys in her hand. As she
opened the padlock at the wooden partition door, Bilqis angrily looked
65 Loose head garment worn over shoulders or as a shawl to cover the ehad and torso.
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at Ahmed. She was envious of the girl who was taking most of her
brothers time and attention. Bilqis was very possessive of her two
brothers, Ahmed and Saif. Arasta quickely riushed to open the main
entrance. She looked outside but nobody was there, she peeped still
further to her right. A car was slowly approaching in the direction, on
the main road. She could see a small hand waving at her. This was
Saif. Waving back she smiled, like always and stepped inside. Arasta
was one of those with a pleasant personality, making others at ease in
her company.
This was the last evening for Ahmed and his family in
Srinagar, their morning flight to Leh was scheduled for next day.
Arasta and Ahmed knew that they may not meet each other for next
one year. The evening was also special. Arasta’s mother sent for her
thrice but she vaguely replied. On the fourth occasion, it was her
snobbish brother Arman, who came to Ahmed ‘s place for the first
time. Arman came from the same Orchard door and waited at it. This
time Ahmed went, Arasta was standing behind. Arman spoke in softer
tone, which was quite unlike him. His face turned red,as his sister
refused him. She also spoke something in Kashmiri, her tone little
harsh, than usual. Ahmed could guess, she was reprimanding her
brother. It was her assertion for independence and self-confidence that
gave here distinct identity. Ahmed respected her for that. That might
when they were having dinner, Saghir called, then Mr.Kaul. They
were confirming, the departure. “Ha ha, your father, was asking for
kababs66 , poor felow is already fed up with the mess-food…”
Everybody listened to her. Arasta that evening was with Ahmed’s
mother, Usamah helping her in the kitchen.
66 Minced meat with ingredients fried of bun shape.
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That evening was also full of pleasant surprise, when Sheikhu,
Ahmed’s cousin called. He informed them about their plan to visit
India in September, when they will have short break.
Arasta was interested to know all about Ahmed’s family and
their relatives, etc.
It was almost midnight when everybody sipped tea sitting in
the lawn, after finishing their kitchen work, packing also. Moreover
this house would fall vacant in less than a month or so.
“ Ma, I will just escort her to her home and will come back,
you people now sleep”, Ahmed said while lifting Saif, who was now
asleep. It was not very cold that night, as would be so in the season.
“Very Well”, Ahmed’s mother walked inside with the tray in
her hand. Bilqis and Arasta hugged each other and bid good bye “don’t
forget me, I enjoyed some of the best moments with you…” “ how can
I, you are really nice, you’re like a younger sister to me”, Bilqis kissed
on her fore-head, they were of same height. Although Bilqis was much
older to her. As Ahmed walked away, she said “ take your time, I will
leave the door open” Arasta blushed and walked with Ahmed with
lifting her eyes. Her gazed at the ground.
Ahmed and Arasta walked slowly towards her house, as they
reached the garage , the bitch came near to the two and started to walk
right behind them. “ I think everybody understands us in my house”
“the same may not be true about mine”, Arasta paused “ I don’t know
if ever we will visit Delhi for a short-stay, in case we visit in
December on our way to Australia.” Ahmed looked at her, it was the
last night when the full-moon would shine, with the twinkling stars of
the milky way,shining ever brighter with full energy.
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“Ahmed, I know you do not like to wear ornaments, but these
are cufflings,”she opened the small knot at the corner end of her
dupatta. Ahmed wondered the whole day why this knot, now he knew.
The cufflings were very finely carved of silver. They bore his name
on inside. Their small stones shine in the moonlight. They kept
walking hand in hand in the big lawn, untill they were tired. They
didn’t talk much. Ahmed could see the amber light in his lawn. They
parted with a promise to phone and write. Ahmed for many years kept
the cufflings in safe, then when he started to wear them, at the parties.
Next day early in the morning, Ahmed and his family were
ready to leave, “ your eyes looklike you didnt slept” Ahmed’s mother
remarked as she locked the his room. “ Iwill lock the main door and
others, you can sit in the Car”, his mother handed the keys and went
out saying “ Come quickly !” , Ahmed while standing at the steps
leading to the lawn, faced right and tried to see if Arasta was standing
in her window to say goodbye. He quickly bolted the entrance door
and locked it. Then he ran towards Arasta’s house, as fast as he could.
The dog was running with his tail wagging fast alongwith him. He
stopped at the walkway leading to the garage. Arasta was standing in
the window, she was dressed up for her school. She winked , smiled,
floated a kiss and waved him goodbye. Ahmed tried to catch his
breadth, just ran back.
That day they flew to Leh but the aircraft could not land on the
treachrous air strip, in an unpredictable weather. The aircraft hovered
around for more than half hour, but couldn’t land. It was all cloudy,
the aircraft bounced in a turbulent manner, a Boeing 737.
The aircraft came back to Srinagar, the flight was scheduled for
next day now. Arasta was too happy to see them back. It happened
The Riparian Neighbours164
thrice. Nobody except Ahmed and Arasta enjoyed the same, secretly.
They vouched each moment of togetherness.
Finally on that sunny day, they landed in Leh a small desolate
town. The plane was carrying passengers which comprised mainly of
the construction labourers who worked for the BRO, under
Contractors. There were some women too. “See we get to land because
of these toilers of land” Ahmed’s mother thanked God with tears in
her eyes. The approach to the air strip was treacherous, the aircraft was
to land with pinpoint accuracy, as the final approach was surrounded
by the two hillocks. The thin air made the jobs of the jet engines real
hard. The engines roared and roared to control, the glide, only an
aircraft like 737 was found maneuvrable enough, rest were sturdy
Russian Andropovs, which ferried the Army and other defence forces
men, women and their families. It was apart from the supplies to the
whole volatile region of moonscape geography. At the aircarft itself
some instructions were given to the passengers, as the air was thin and
breathlessness could be caused. The airport only had one structure
which wore temporary looks. It was bright and sunny. Saif holding his
mothers’ hand, rushed to a figure which came out of the shelter-shaped
building. He was their father Saghir, who has been waiting for their
flight for past one week to land at Leh. Though such delay was quite
common, due to landing difficulty and the risksa involved. “dont’ run ,
walk slowly !” Saghir cautioned Saif, who kept on walking fast. They
greeted each other, and in a single motion lifted Saif in his arms and
kissed him, hugging him, as he embraced his wife and children.
Some junior oficers were also there. Saghir asked his
family members to stay in the Lounge. This Lounge was recently built.
A semi-permanent structure. At the waiting hall, a junior officer stood
The Riparian Neighbours165
by the family to take care of their refreshments, while Saghir met the
Contractor and his labourers, who were also aboard the same flight.
The man was Salim Limpu, an Assistant engineer from the Project
office. He explained “Madam!” , he addressed very softly “…Saheb is
very different and takes great care of his staff including the temporary
employees under the Contractor. Saghir was a different type of
bureaucrat, rather a technocrat. He was convinced that it was not
possible for them to make or look for the statutory changes. The
constraints in ordinary course of working were getting more and more
obvious everyday. The colonial masters worked with a different
objective and the labour legislation was so repressive as to cause non-
employment, than employment generation. The small difference,
which one could make, was by creating a team effort. It was rather
surprising to see that most of these labourers were from the hot-humid
areas of the country. However, after many days of wondering how
these labourers survived the rigours or adjusted to the harsh altitude,
Salim pointed to the small packet which these men and women carried
in their pockets. These packets contained the local tobacco and lime. It
was to be kept below the tongue or at the side of the mouth. It kept
their body warm, as it raise their temperature. Moreso it was. It was
an addiction but worked wonders to their employers. Unlike Chinese
opium addictionn these men wer found by the British Colonial masters
that tehse men would simply die off toiling in the public works. Dying
of hunger was better dying with ulcers and throat cancers. As the
Khans travelled across the leangth and breadth of this barren scape
these labourers were omnipresent maintaining roads in nearby and far-
flung areas. This was the season where the roads got clogged from the
water flowing from the melting snow.
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The Riparian Neighbours167
Chapter VIII
Saghir was a man of small average height,
fair, good-looking, an over-all charming personality. Off
late he started wearing spectacles. So he would always
hold spectacles in his right and left hand. His profile
would fit description of a man who is always pre-
occupied with his work. As though he was obsessed
with the task he was entrusted with. His charming and
disarming mannerisms made him instant favourites
with his labour and officers. His sense of humour was
equally sharp. It could be easily understood by the
illiterate labourers who spoke very different dialect and
language as well. Saghir was as if cut-out for this job.
The job of building one of the difficult roads all through
the year for the Army and civilians did require a
leadership and camaraderie. Thus Saghir was not a
typical bureaucrat or an engineer who belonged to the
elite core of engineers. His wife and children
understood his obsession and never came in between
his work and passion for Road building research. His
papers and techniques were being accepted as national
Road building standards and were also appreciated
abroad. Many of the UN or International development
The Riparian Neighbours168
Banks while executing such infrastructure jobs were
looking for his model. Saghir was consultant to many of
these organizations. So it kept him very busy. Salim
Limpu while watching Saghir said to Usamah , “…
saheb, is the only engineer-consultant whom I have
seen maintaining the library at the site itself, and a
small testing facility. This field lab has been established
from his own money. A small amount was provided by
BRO and Army here. Saheb, is never angry with
anybody. These days he is teaching us all how to
conduct simple lab tests.” Usamah sipped her tea
quietly and smiled intermittently. “ Ma Ma ! this airport
has a tin roof…” Saif amused interrupted. He drowned
his face in his mothers lap, in a playful mood. Usmah
lovingly lifted his head and smiled back. Salim said “…
that’s because this is a make-shift building. The project
for airport building is yet to find funds.” “ let me tell
you something about the humble beginnings of this air
strip, it is hardly an airport.” Then as if reminded of
something, he called Salim, his assistant who was
standing at the entrance of the VIP lounge along with
the newly arrived labourers and their contractor. The
men and women probably were too lucky to fly, there
may be many flights from Leh to Srinagar, but it was
The Riparian Neighbours169
the emergency that the whole lot of semi-skilled road
workers were required. However, they did not look
excited at the opportunity. Their harsh realism
shrouded the temporary elation. One of the gang-
leaders or the sub-contractors spoke to Usamah , while
the family was travelling to Nubra valley, his name was
Shanta Singh. “ Our life is full of temporary things, it is
a sort of daily struggle. He paused and said “ when
people as deprived as us, are treated well by men like
saheb, we feel hopeful about God and his world.”
Usamah was moved by this man’s realism and struggle
for survival. She told Saghir about the man, how he was
full of praise for him. Saghir said in his usual blunt way
“their miserable life is no match for my nice words and
behaviour…” he continued as he kept his spects in his
coat pocket, “ I cant change this exploitative system,
but I try to show them the not so dark side of the
system”.
“Come lets go !!!!!” Saghir lifted his son
Saif in his arms, he walked out briskly, followed by
Usamah, Bilqis and Ahmed. Ahmed walked with his
eyes glued at the brochure about the Ladakh Scouts in
his hands. His father’s name was also there. Bilqis held
his arm lest he would trip on the floor. The floor was
The Riparian Neighbours170
not very smooth, although cemented. The airport
seems to be hastily arranged. Everything from Taxi
operators to the bus operators including tourist guides
and others were present. There was just the rope to
separate the passengers from the visitors. There was
very little police, except for the security check. The
presence of the intelligence was very obvious, as this
was the sensitive region and it was recently opened for
the foreign tourists. The land which fascinated the
young and the rich westerners. No doubt some of them
were from Western intelligence agencies but many
came to the magnetic effect of the land of Buddhist
wisdom and way of life. The monastery was the order of
the day and social reputation. Many young boys from
remote corners and rural areas came to these
monasteries. Some of them were centuries old and
institutions by themselves. They professed their own
curriculum and had distinct scholarly identity and
importance. As the family headed in a Jonga67 towards
the Station engineer’s Compound bearing the CPWD
Board. Saghir described the situation in the area.
Children listened intently. It was barren site which they
have never seen. A Bitumen road in the rocky and
sandy terrain appeared like a crawling snake with
67 An old American version of military personnel carrier and multi-utility vehicle.
The Riparian Neighbours171
barren rocks in the distance. It was like a moon
landscape, without any vegetation whatsoever. The
hard surface around seemed to be sun burnt or tanned .
Ahmed who was sitting in front talked to the driver
who told him about the places to visit and about the
time they would need to acclimatize to the rarified
atmosphere/air. They were drinking the canned lemon
juice. Anchuk , their driver lived inside the office with
his small family. Saghir’s office which housed three
agencies i.e the CPWD and PWD68 , BRO69. Base Army
Hospital was also nearby. This was BRO’s temporary
head-quarters and which was Saghir’s office also. The
Army Engineers also occupied a small office. Just
behind the office complex there were the living
quarters of the senior engineers. In this landscape
wilderness took the connotation of the land for the
sages who sought wisdom and truth in its desolate self.
The serenity and the ambience was breadth-taking. For
Ahmed and his brother and sister, this was quite a
novelty. They have never seen anything before like this.
Yet this solemn peace and holy ambience was
threatened by the means of modern warfare. It was
very obvious in the town of Leh and its suburbs. Army
68 Central Public Works Department.69 Border Roads Organization
The Riparian Neighbours172
was the symbol of civic life here. It was modern
education. The only contemporary life-style which was
not Ladakhi.
Ahmed and his family waited at the offices
which are well-guarded. There was a boundary-wall
with barbed fences on top of them. This office was not
one of those sensitive installations. However it was
recently ransacked by an irate mob, which was
protesting against the Central regime for the neglect of
the civic needs of the area. They claimed to be the
political voice of the young Ladakhis. The office still
wore some signs of the recent upsurge. It looked
freshly painted. As there was arson also. Since there
was hardly any presence of the local Jammu and
Kashmir Police, it was easy for the agitators to burn the
office. Luckily no important records or designs were
lost to incident of arson. Saghir never informed his
family about the incident. It was only revealed much to
their shock and amazement by the staff driver, as they
went around the office premises. The Generator room
was really large, as the electricity was erratic and non-
existent for all utility purposes. They could see Saghir
coming out and going inside the rooms which were
made in single rectangular row. As they finished their
The Riparian Neighbours173
tour of the office complex, their staff driver took them
to the lawn near the main entrance. They could see
some underground structure, basement type with a
narrow opening. Almost like a fox hole. Anchuk went
quickly down the stairs and soon came out of the place
with a tray and cups of tea for the visitors. There was
very little staff in the office. It looked deserted. As
Anchuk went down the small narrow opening, Ahmed
and Saif peeped down. They wondered what that place
could be . Something secret there……!
hmmmmmmmm.!!!!!!!!!!. “You have a canteen there”
Ahmed, as everybody eagerly awaited Anchuk’s reply. “
No young master, this is how people here in Ladakh
live. They have their houses dug in the ground, this
works as insulation. We can grow barley on the roof-
tops.” He paused as Ahmed and his family wondered if
he was telling the truth. As they later found while criss-
crossing the Ladakh Division that the hundreds of
houses were constructed in straight and random ways,
like that of Anchuk and their roof-tops were used for
harvesting the barley during the summer season which
lasted less than three months to be precise.
“Anchuk smiling continued “… since we are
short of staff and accommodation , so my family was
The Riparian Neighbours174
given the option to make extra money by undertaking
canteen job as well.” “ you mean this house was
provided by the government” Bilqis as she sipped the
tea. Ahmed, Saif and their mother intently looked at
Anchuk. He felt amused. “This is one house which does
not find mention in the papers. This was made by
us.”( he meant himself and his family). Anchuk was the
essential part of the visitors itinerary. He was an ex-
service man and a ware veteran. His was typical
Mongol features with sun burnt face skin, which looked
rough. He had wrinkles on the side of his eyes and just
below them. Saghir trusted him for his honesty and
reliability. Driving was real skill and test of nerves in
this region. Anchuk was really polite person, as was a
common characteristic all over the place. Local people
were courteous and helpful. However they were not
very comfortable with the people from Jammu Division
of the State. This was the Union territory under the
Indian Constitution so in plain terms it meant that the
day to day affair were decided by the Central
government at New Delhi. Those days the area was
under turmoil. Number of demands were set by the
Ladakhis. Bi-polar local politics was coming of age, as
the end of single party domination in the local politics
The Riparian Neighbours175
came to end. The local rage did had the blessing of the
religious elite. Although the lamas in their maroon and
yellow robes were hardly in the lead.
“ It is believed in the mountainous regions
that the mountains are strong ,
yet they have enormous patience and
perseverance.”
Topography and social character do run
side by side with each influencing and reflecting the
behaviour patterns.
After an hour or so, Saghir came out and
walked straight into the vehicle, asking everybody to
get inside, quickly. Saghir by character was always on
the move. He was not a man in hurry but on the move.
This was very peculiar of him. A source of jealousy for
his superiors and sometimes colleagues. Every key
project in infrastructure segment bore his signature.
The state government of Jammu and Kashmir was not
relieving him of his assignments, thus keeping him
involved in every project. Lest his deputation is ended
by the Union Ministry.
Saghir and his family finally settled for the
day in their spacious home which had a glass house and
massive bed rooms. The house was really huge by any
The Riparian Neighbours176
standards. It was full of all modern and expensive
gadgets. At the home there were two people, one was
Karim the cook and errand man, the other was Akram,
he was the part-time gardener cum cleaner, although
he was a permanent Peon. Although this house did not
have a garden barring a few pots of plants. As they
settle down the telephone rang. Salim Lempu picked it
up and asked the caller to hold as saheb was busy.
Saghir took the call, this was the District Magistrate,
Magadh Raj Singh, IAS70 . He was back in town. The
man was very fond of evening parties and a poet
himself. As Urdu was the administrative language here,
the rich Urdu poetry came naturally to him, given his
flair for the same. Saghir was the man who loved
poetry, so they were complementing each other, in a
way. In any case there was very little to socialize, as
these men(officers) were completely alien to this part
of the world. More recently, the violence has made
their interaction even more regular during the day
time. The incident of arson at Saghir’s office, was
recent only three days ago. Luckily the irate mob did
not hurt or injure anybody. Saghir was very persuasive,
yet he failed before the mob mentality. The leader of
70 Indian Administrative Services, a colonial legacy and symbolic administrative unity throughout India.
The Riparian Neighbours177
the mob was very polite with folded hands , he asked
Saghir to leave, to avoid a situation. Saghir was angry
for not having the adequate Police support. The
telephonic conversation was exactly about the same.
However, Army was now helping the local
administration in quelling the violence and controlling
the local agitation. However even Army was very
cautious, as they did not want to loose their good-will
and the community relationship which they have
earned in so many years. Many of the ex-servicemen
were also the part of this local movement. The
disgruntled Youth demanded more and more as the
only choice of employment in Army was no longer a
favourite with the young men in town of Leh and some
other towns in the division. These young men wanted to
present in the local administration. This agitation was
completely localised and infuriated the Central
government, which wanted the local body to be
suspended. Thus the silent and barren tracts of the
Glacial Himalayas were deeply embroiled in the
struggle of the inhabitation by the mankind. This
however did not hamper the visitors from getting the
touch of the pace of life , which was slow but absorbing
for an urbane character. The visitors were asked to be
The Riparian Neighbours178
confined to stay in the house and possibly to make
little movement. This was for acclimatization of the
visiting family. In the rarified and dry air here, it was
required that those visiting eat lots of butter and drink
lime. Akram left for the market. He was office peon to
Saghir but worked as part-time in the evenings to earn
a few extra money for his family. The salary was hardly
decent enough to sustain the modern life-style. Like
Saghir he always wore a white shirt and light colour
trousers. As the visiting members inspected the house
Ahmed decided to put in the glass-house. He was
fascinated by the view . This was the front of the house.
Their Bungalow was located I the center of massive
tract of land with the barbed wire fencing. A small lawn
with very little grass , then porch. The main gate was
made of the wood. The Bungalow was completed only
few months back, so the paint and the lime coat on the
walls was still fresh. As Saghir was most of the times
in the field office. The house had Karim, a young man
as the sole occupant. Karim was interesting character
with rather low IQ. He was very fond of smoking bidi 71.
He would go out of the house in to the backyard every
half an hour or so to smoke. During the days to come he
71 Indian version of cigar, but of cigarette size. Local tabacco rolled in tendu leaves, a bundle of them would cost 15paisa.
The Riparian Neighbours179
befriended the kids and took them to nearby places. He
was not form the office. Karim was the domestic hand.
His wife and children lived in a remote village near Leh
region. Usamah appreciated him for cleanliness of the
house and kitchen as well. Ahmed took to the Glass-
house and slept on the diwan . The electricity supply
was erratic. Although his father had a generator set
installed. It was always running out of diesel every
four-hours. So it was decided that the generator would
be used in the night time only. There was no need for
the ceiling fans , the temperature was just comfortable
for the visiting family. Although there were no ceiling
fans, even otherwise. These houses were insulated and
had small fire-place in every room. The tap water was
very cold. It was a rather precious commodity and not
many houses had the privilege of having running tap
water. “Ahmed wake up son its maghrib 72” Saghir was
home. Ahmed’s mother also came to the room and took
the grocery bag which he was carrying. “ I think we
slept for more than 4-5 hours”, Usamah said while
going in side the house. Saghir sat at the sofa in the
Glass house. It was a combination of the glass house
and the drawing-room. A medium sized room which was
served as Drawing room as well. It had large curtains
72 Prayers at Dusk hour, also an expression for late evening.
The Riparian Neighbours180
all its three sides. Then there was the door which led
inside the rest of the accommodation. It had sofa sets,
corner tables in-between, center-tables and a Diwan73.
It also housed a Book shelf. The room also had a glass
ceiling. This ceiling was covered by a huge canvas
cloth, during the summers. This cloth can be removed
by a lever system outside the main entrance. Ahmed,
his father and mother were having their evening tea
when Bilqis and Saif also came. Bilqis lifted her duptta
round here neck and was tying her hairs, Saif was
walking just behind her, half sleep and half awake. Saif
straightway walked into his father’s lap, who cuddled
him and kissed him. Bilqis picked the cup at the lying in
front of Ahmed, and took a sip and then smiled back at
Ahmed. “ eeeeee….youuuuuuuuu……….iiiiiiiiiiii……she
always does this on purpose….!, this is not fair” , Bilqis
sat next to Ahmed very coolly. “there is no need to
shout in your fathers’ presence” Usamah reminded
Ahmed of the hierarchy. “ Betu74 you can ask Karim to
prepare a cup of tea, he younger to you” Saghir, their
father, who was playing with Saif. “Papa don’t you ever
favour him to me”. “Ok Ok, get some stuff to eat see, if
there are some dry fruits inside” he said to Bilqis.
73 A large single bed with plain head and foot sides.74 Expression for child.
The Riparian Neighbours181
Ahmed silently sipped his tea. “ Begum75 , you should
prepares some siikh-kababs76 , its been long time since
I had all that decent food” , “ Very well, I will ask Karim
to get the gosht77 you get mutton here” Usamah. Karim
walked in with a tray an cup of tea and some dry-fruits.
Bilqis carried a bottle of coke. “Don’t drink that much
here” Saghir warned her. Bilqis was very fond of
carbonated drinks. They have brought the cans from
Srinagar, although the coke was recently thrown out by
the Central government which was bent on
nationalization and throwing out all foreign companies.
Little did the constituents of the coalition at the Centre
realize that twenty years later when they would once
again wield the power in South Block78, they would
reverse the order by their own executive directions and
orders.
Ahmed was still busy reading the book on
the Ladakh scouts which he caught hold at the airport.
Salim Lempu was holding in his hand when they
reached the airport at Leh that morning. Ahmed was
completely unaware of the presence of the other people
in the room. Bilqis also sat next to her father kneeling
75 Madame or how one adresses his wife.76 Barbecue kababs77 meat78 office of Indian Prime Minister
The Riparian Neighbours182
her head in his shoulder. She kept one arm over his
neck and kept massaging his head which still had all
black and thick hair. “ papa you must take care of your
hairs, they are getting weak,” “…see they are falling
on your shoulders….” She looked at his hairs more
closely. Saif tried to peep up by lifting his head
skywards. “hihihi…” he giggled, as he looked down at
his mother. “hahaha, what is funny, Papa he needs a
hair cut, rather get his head shaved off like a monk”
Bilqis teased him. “ why don’t join the order, then we
can have some peace in the house” Ahmed pitched in .
“hmmmmmmmm….don’t be harsh on your sister she is
not going to be with you forever” “ Ma why do you
always say that, I don’t want to get married” and she
kneeled over her father’s shoulder who smiled and
cajoled him by tapping his hands on her left cheek. “
you bachcha79 party can go to the nearby club for
Table-tennis and other indoor games. Then after two
three days when you have settled then we will go
around the place” Karim who was standing next to
Usamah taking instructions, intervened “ Saheb there
is one table lying in the garage, it needs small repairs
then baccha-log can play there.” “…Oh is their one ?”
Saghir was surprised. “I think the office must have
79 kids
The Riparian Neighbours183
purchased from the recreation funds.” “Begum we may
not have funds for our library and field labs but
certainly the recreation funds’ he he he !!!!!!……..” he
jocularly remarked. “Funny are the ways that our
system works” , Usamah smiled and replied with
sarcasm without lifting her head. “Papa’s department is
not an exception, everywhere its like this” Ahmed took
a moment from his engrossed reading. “ Aha ! look my
son is an intelligent person and he analyses well too.”
“papa he gets more pampered and snob “ Bilqis
remarked without any emotions, she still sat with her
head leaning against her father’s shoulders. The next
day being a Friday. An important day for the
congregational prayers at Noon hour. Ahmed who
suddenly realized while casually glancing at the
calendar, by the Border Roads Organization. “Karim
bhai where can we go for juma ki namaaz (Friday
prayers). “ Karim looked at him and said “ baba its far
from here, either we can go on bicycle or by car.”
Karim always looked confused when he was asked for
advice. He was not a self-confident person. Many a time
during their stay, the kids would have fun at his cost.
But he was nice, never complained about small things.
He enjoyed kids, it was sought of replacement family.
The Riparian Neighbours184
As he only got to see his family twice a year. The kids
also took great care, they got on well and understood
each others temperament. Next few days of their stay
were full of the anecdotes and escapades. Karim all
along was an integral part of them. He narrated lot of
stories, about War and the debris in and around Leh.
Although during the peace time this town was bore
little signs of disturbance. Of late though the
simmering discontent was manifesting in to Buddhist-
Muslim tussle. The demand to change its status to
autonomous region from union territory was the bone
of contention.
It was on Thursday that week that the Head of Tibetan
Buddhist order ; Dalai Lama was to visit the town. So Karim took the
kids to the main temple in the town where he was to be welcome and
bless the devout. It was remarkable as many Tibetan Buddhist fled to
this place when China invaded Tibet. Indeed this was a refuge point
for the Tibetans, who sold smuggled goods in the local markets and
the weekly Tibetan market. These were the migrating people who used
the old trade routes and trading points for the smuggled Chinese
goods. It was indeed ironical that these displaced Tibetans were
surviving by selling the Chinese goods in the Indian markets. Ladakh
was natural home for these refugees. At the same time Ladakhis also
took the advantage of selling these goods. Calculators and digital
The Riparian Neighbours185
watches were most popular. The small button cells were also available
cheap indeed sold like hot cakes. The European travelers however
scrolled through this weekly markets for the precious stones and
likewise.
The Dalai Lama arrived in a small car which was
pushed by the monks of the local order and those of the Tibetan order.
He was received by the Local Head Lama and other senior Buddhist
Monks. The ceremony was fairly disciplined although the devouts
jostled to get the glimpse of Dalai lama. Many could
manage to kneel on their knees with folded hands and
bent heads. There was heavy police presence and
plainclothes men. Karim and kids were already there
about an hour or so early. So they got the right place at
the entrance of the Giant temple in the center of the
town. Local politicians also came to seek his blessings
and view on political situation in Ladakh. It was noon
when the Holy man arrived. Many of the European
travelers were there with their snazzy cameras and
movie cameras. Holy man movements in India were still
secretive for fear of Chinese intelligence. Although
Chinese were not that foolish. Chinese were scared of
their own disintegration than creating instability in
other countries. It was this fear of disintegration that
made them act apprehensive and some times political
The Riparian Neighbours186
paranoid. They were hardly parochial. West would
always project this insecurity as political evil or
aggressive Chinese Dragon as it was then referred to.
On seeing the Holy man they came back.
Next day they went for the Friday prayers in the town
mosque. That day they went in their fathers’ car. After
the prayers they shopped for the groceries and some
other things like clothes, etc. They bought some wind-
sheet jackets and sleeping bags. They also purchased
two small tents from a shop. Few shops qualified as real
shops, others were just small grocery, dark and dingy
then. These shops were mainly owned by some shop-
keepers of Delhi. The owners of these shops were
essentially small and big suppliers to the Army and
other Defense forces . these shop-keepers knew their
father well. Many of them tried to even bribe him
through various means to extract the supply contract to
the PWD and BRO.xiii Saghir’s integrity was beyond their
influence. It is precisely that earned him repute and
regular transfers. Saghir was bit uneasy that day, as he
constantly was on a look-out. Ahmed observed him but
kept quiet. Then they went to a pushmina80 cooperative
workshop , where they saw how women worked those
80 woolen fibre from the Pushmina goat. An expensive variety. Very soft and light in weight, extremely warm.
The Riparian Neighbours187
expensive shawls. Here Saghir ordered one for his wife.
Hew was expecting some royalty on his books, which
would go in to pay this expensive gift. Just few yards
from this place they went to another cooperative where
Ahmed’s instant favourite Apricot Jam was prepared
and packaged under a State scheme. Ahmed was bit
hesitant to accept that Apricot Jam can be so delicious
to leave his tongue savour it for his entire life. The tins
did not bear any markings, to avoid taxes. Although it
hardly helped in marketing. The Supervisor , a man,
perhaps the only man there apart from the chowkidar.
He told them that these tins were for the export and
were labelled in Delhi by the procurement/exporting
firm. Ahmed was surprised to hear the same. The
supervisor offered them as sample. At glance of it did
not look too appetizing. Some what deep maroon much
like a marmalade than Jam. “Wow can I have some
more….” Ahmed was instantly hooked to this recipe. No
doubt he had sweet-tooth. Saif also liked. So there
father bought few tins of small size. “Abbu we need to
buy one tin opener” Ahmed to his father while holding
the packet in his left hand containing the tins. He was
walking along-side his father. They both loved to walk
at a fast pace. They never bothered if others could
The Riparian Neighbours188
keep pace with them. “Oh we have one” Karim who was
still tasting the jam stopped and spoke clearing his
mouth. “ Fine” ; Ahmed .
AS the men drove down towards the Airlines
office, next to which was a guest house, where Saghir
stayed before shifting to the present official
accommodation. They sat at the office for sometime
where the refund for the return fare was taken. Ahmed
could c outside form where he sat. there was a huge
queue of women and children in their traditional winter
dress, although it was June now. The women wore their
traditional head-dress with precious and semi-precious
stones embedded in it. “Is this Q for kerosene”, Ahmed
asked surprised, as these women and children had
Jerry-Cans tied with barley rope to their foreheads and
waists. “ Oh that young-man is the long Q for potable
water”, said an elderly man who was sitting in the office
next to Ahmed. This was Major Rahim, he was war
veteran, a heavy smoker, friendly, robust. He just lived
next to the main temple, in the town. Major Rahim
carried a personality who would befriend children in no
time. Ahmed and Saif would visit his house many a
times whenever in town, along with their newly made
friends in Leh. Major Rahim in less than 15 minutes,
xiii Public Works Deptt. And Border Roads Organization.
The Riparian Neighbours189
impressed with his answers to Ahmed queries relating
to life and times in Leh. It was his words, rather opinion
that shaped his outlook of life and times of Ladakhi and
advent of Ladakh Scouts. As they traveled the distant
and remote parts of Ladakh , the new symbiosis
became ever more apparent. Major Rahim like most
senior citizens, lamented about the performance of the
young recruits, who were not up to the mark. That less
and less local boys were joining the officer ranks.
Perhaps he didn’t realize the emerging power of the
city-phenomenon or Urbanization. Delhi was central to
the circumstances of Leh and perhaps to the region of
Ladakh region being a Union Territory.
For change in plans, Khans’ would be
returning by road to Srinagar. It was two day trip by bus
or Jongaxiv . As the coming Sunday they were planning
to leave for the Ladakh Scouts raising day celebrations
in Nubra Valley.
It was hot here as this part of the town was
all open and no buildings/shades. There was just one
tree-shade in the compound of the Airlines office. This
was the only tree which was found in the whole town of
Leh. They had few tins of fruit juices , but they needed
to catch some grub. Instead of driving home, they drove
xiv SUV(sports utility vehicle)
The Riparian Neighbours190
straight to the Army Mess where a mix of
Dogra ,Kashmir Regiments and Ladakh scouts were
stationed . This was a family station so to speak. Saghir
wanted to complete some official work with the Army
for the Nubra Valley project before they left for the
Raising day celebrations. So they first went to the Army
mess and had some food. All nicely cooked. They ate
vegetarian food for they knew it was not halal. The
visitors were here for more than a week now. While
Saghir went to meet the officers from the Engineering
Core. The children waited in the Waiting hall of the
officers mess. Soon after ten-fifteen minutes they
started feeling bored by sitting glued to just one place
watching VCR. As they explored with Karim and their
driver keeping watch on them. They walked out of the
Mess Compound towards the next compound, it read
‘Kennel’. The boys knew this was their place. So they
walked inside without anyone stopping them. The
compound here were not walls but were just divided by
thick bushes all neatly cured, with barbed wire
demarcating the compound limits. Only the structures
were made of concrete. Naturally it was a difficult task
to haul cement and other modern building material up
at this rarified atmospheric heights. Both Saif and
The Riparian Neighbours191
Ahmed were fond of Dogs and hunting with them. This
commonality made them friendly with many who were
much elder to their age . “So sir, are you the trainer”
Ahmed asked cautiously to the man in Army uniform.
He was standing in the corridor of this barrack type
building, tending to the feet of German Shepherd. He
lifted his head somewhat surprised to see the kids
inside the compound. The dog seemed to be well
behaved. “ Yes that’s right, this is Sheru” , He referred
to the Dog which started to wag its tail and opened its
mouth. “ So you are new here” , he further asked, as he
removed the bandage from the hind leg of his dog. “Oh
we are visitors, our father is a Consultant-Engineer with
Army. He is there in the next office.” “ Ok young men,
you like canines” “ yes Sir, We do, in fact we have one…
aaaaaaa…….” He hesitated then said “…can we go
around and have a look” “ Oh sure, why not…” . He was
an Army Sergeant, Ahmed could make it out from the
stripes on his sleeves. He was from Dogra Regiment. He
proudly wore his straps, two full ones. He has served in
War and at Siachen ,twice as well. As they went round
the Kennel most of the Dogs were dosing with their
heads lying on the front paws. The kennel was
dominated by the intelligent varieties, like Labrador,
The Riparian Neighbours192
Golden retrievers, German Shepherd. One or two
Mongrel variety. Saif finally broke the silence bit excited
by all those canines. “We just met Major Rahim, he too
has Dogs, you know him” “ Oh yes, we served during
the War together,… brave soldier received shots in leg
so was retired on disability”. Sergeant Vishesh Dogra
was gallantry award winner and the dog he was tending
to, was his team mate. As they walked past the kennels
and stopped in front of a commemoration board. IT was
a varnished wooden board with Canine head of brass at
the top. These were the names of the Canines who died
in action. Their photographs along with their trainers
were placed on the walls in the corridor. There was a
dispensary and a huge training ground at the back of
this building with training equipment placed in the
open. “ These canine soldiers are trained in survival
tactics, sniffing bombs and land mines, messaging and
carrying first-aid kits to the wounded during the War”
Sergeant proudly told them as he took the boys around.
“Baba log81, saheb is ready to leave, Come lets go…..! “
This was Karim running towards them. He was one
jittery fellow, always close to being nervous in a
situation.
81 Vernacular here it means Kids.
The Riparian Neighbours193
It was a sunny hot day with June
approaching here but the gentle breeze prevented one
from getting sun stroke. At various points the giant
boulders from the local rocks bore the regiment marks
and their distance from the last stone. These boulders
were carved as those used to mark the arable land for
revenue limits. The drive ways were not charcoal or
bitumen they were just small pieces of stones , then
rolled over by the rollers. They were regularly pressed
so that the drive ways did not get bumpy. Some times
the strong winds would erode the top layer to create
huge craters in the middle of the roads itself. The dry
winds would peel off the delicate face skin in no time if
not taken care. Many of the top ranking Generals and
other officers lived here. Even the soldiers here wore
peace time uniforms. There was hardly any apparent
reason to believe that less than 450 kms from this place
IRBMs82 were placed to hit in case of any border
dispute. Chinese dominated the threat perception here.
Although the new Dictatorial regime in Pakistan was
changing that perception in the Army circles on this
side of the upper glacial Himalayas. This perception was
backed by the remnants of the last 1965 and 1971
Indo-Pak conflict. The place was full of war veterans
82 Intermediate Range Ballistics Missiles
The Riparian Neighbours194
and soldiers. Indeed Ladakh Scouts was essentially to
scout the young Ladakhis to defend their motherland, a
benign off-spring resulting in employment opportunity.
The barren face of these arid sparse bore little
challenge for young and energetic in organized and
disciplined fashion. An alternate to lama was discipline
of Army regimen here. As the span of travel broadens
and widens, this perception increasingly dawns as a
distinct realism. The weather though was not always
at odds with the children in any case. The young body-
chemistry was more conducive to such harsh
conditions. Their bodies adjusted faster than the older
ones would usually take to acclimatize.
That evening when the family was planning
for their trip to Nubra and beyond. Their Driver came
with the news that there was a riot in the town between
young Buddhist and Muslim members of the
community. It took some time for the Police to come
and save them. The Bad news was that Major Rahim’s
house was also attacked and the main temple in the
town. It all happened immediately as they left the
market for the Cantonment. “ Well Nobody sounded us
in the Cantonment area” Saghir said somewhat angrily.
“ Get me the DM” Every went silent. Riots in this far off
The Riparian Neighbours195
land, reminded them of Walled city area of Delhi. Riots
were quite common in some pockets of the Walled city.
However there was a trend of late that new areas and
pockets were getting affected by the Communal
tension. The sour legacy from independence-era was
spreading its tentacles much on account of hydra-
headed politicos.
“It was the truth of the same morning which spell the
Dawn,
the red-blood flow coloured the fresh waters, choking
the life”
Communal tension was still a source of
insecurity and brooding for the religious minority here
as elsewhere in the sub-continent. The spread in the
new geographical areas was taking psychological toll of
those who thought ;
“ now the upheaval of minds has generated
sanity
I think I was wrong as the fury bellows
dreading it.”
It was Magadh Raj Singh, District Magistrate
on the Wireless. “ So Raj How bad it is , Over !”. “Oh
nothing, it is off-shoot of that protest in Kargil on
The Riparian Neighbours196
neglect by Central government, there are few injured,
more from Police than the public, Over “ Ok then we
meet in the evening” “Fine, try to have an escort Car,
or take the other route, so far I haven’t ordered curfew,
Over” “ So we meet Khuda Hafiz”83. The family mood
grew somewhat somber , that afternoon. “This bloody
politics is ruining us….” Saghir while handing over his
wireless to his driver Anchuk. Karim left the room
without saying a word. There was some silence in the
room with Saif making occasional sound or two. After
ten-fifteen minutes Akram entered with Karim. Karim
placed the cups and saucers and while Akram laid other
plates for servings. Ahmed asked Akram, if these riots
occurred for the first time. Akram stood straight,
paused and then said “ people here are tolerant, but
this growing frustration and weak cord between the
Center and Ladakh region are causing disharmony.”
The two then left, as the family deliberated on their
forthcoming visit to Nubra and what all was in the
offing.
That evening the Khan’s visited the District
Magistrate’s house , who was now more than just a
colleague to Saghir, there wave-length met so they were 83 (when bidding good-bye)May God protect you.
The Riparian Neighbours197
friends now. They had something in common, their
integrity and uprightness. In civil services this virtue was
reason for lot of political and locals ire, at times also. This
complimenting task was ran as a common thread between
the similarly placed officials. Although such nexus was
getting feeble and less seen. This was possibly due to
combination of factors. It could be seen by everyone that
the crisis-management was all but anything concrete
which the system(machinations) achieved. The
administrative options were running out and the
machinery was simply withering. Saghir was a determined
man , so he took no escort, that evening family drove
through a different route to Magadh Raj Singh’s residence,
it was almost dusk hour. The sky line shaded pale orange-
red with scattered clouds appeared to be painted with the
same glow of colours. As they reached a magnificent
structure, with the sloping roof-tops. Ahmed at the first
glance was reminded of Aarasta’s house. Although this
was smaller in size and its expanse. The lawn was two
layered and the gate was on the left corner of the
Bungalow. The Sentry came out and verified . Then he
opened the gate with one hand holding his Enfield .303
rifle in his other hand firmly with a chain attached to his
service belt. He wore a ceremonial Police cap. As they
drove inside, on the driveway which was lined by
Eucalyptus trees. This part of the two of Leh was full of
vegetation and trees, would qualify as elite residential
area with some Army offices and camps.
The Riparian Neighbours198
Now almost dark and the lights were on. The drive
way was laid with red sand, as was the tradition. It
substituted for the red-carpet or perhaps facilitated the
ruling elite with this distinct colour of the terra ferma.
Magadh Raj Singh and his wife stood at the main door to
greet the visitors, with their two daughters. They both
wore light-warm clothes, as the temperature dipped
during the night with slight chill in the breeze. During
many days of the vacation rather an extended vacation,
Ahmed with his brother and sister would spend many days
and evenings at this house and some neighbouring
houses. They made new friends here. Singh’s daughters
were of Ahmed and Saif’s age. They were very friendly
and excellent hosts. Dina and Chandra along with their
mother were visiting their father like them. Only that they
have been coming here for the third consecutive year. It
was kind of informative to meet these girls who told them
about their travel experiences across the Ladakh region.
They had some interesting tales to tell. Dina was the elder
one with a charming personality and Chandra was equally
ebullient and chirpy, but more beautiful. Dina could easily
relate to those who were older to her. So Bilqis and Dina
went well. Dina could make out the competing sibling
rivalry in hour or so that they spent before dinner. So she
balanced Ahmed and Bilqis, thus managed to keep both
happy, at the same time. Those who knew the siblings
commended Dina for her inter-personal skills Their
parents sat in the drawing room, while they went around
The Riparian Neighbours199
the house and sat in Dina and Chandra’s room. This was
the official residence of the District magistrate. The
District Magistrate was over all in charge of the law and
order situation and the revenue administration, who would
also preside on land disputes and appeals arising thereof. As the town witnessed riots in the
afternoon. There were additional enforcement which
camped just outside their house. “ Dina get everybody
for the dinner” Megha their mother called. She was fond
of western outfits, that night she was wearing her bright
red sand silk suit with a cream blouse. She was fair and
nice looking. As Dina and others were coming down,
they saw two girls, climbing the stairs. Dina excited “
Oh hai,,, Ghazzz… and Doma, when did you reach
Leh” .Dina rushed down and in the middle of the steps
they kissed and hugged. Ghaz or Ghazanfar as the
name was, a Kashmiri girl of her age, whose parents
were doctors. Her mother headed the District hospital.
“Oh me and Papa arrived this morning”. Chandra and
others stood there watching the three talk in middle of
the steps. “ Dinoo, you forgot to introduce them,”
Chandra, shaking Dina from her ecstatic moment. Dina
was very emotional and warm person. “ Oh ya, gals,
meet them, they are our new friends from Dehli.” The
two looked at them and smiled. Ahmed was just behind
The Riparian Neighbours200
Chandra on the stair case. Ghazanfar in her inimitable
style “ Oh we have a handsome friend”, Ahmed replied
“ of equally lovely faces…” he giggled , so did
everybody. “Baba , saheb is calling you all” the Butler
intervened. “Ghaz, cant you stop being yourself, for
some time” Dina jocularly remarked. She could see the
face expression which Bilqis was carrying. She stood
there holding Ghaz hands and when Bilqis passed them
she introduced her “ this is Ahmed’s elder sister” . Ghaz
did not hesitate, with equal flamboyance wished her
back. Ghazanfar and Bilqis never became friends, her
first impression was enough to draw animosity. She
never took liking to those common friends or otherwise
who were too daring on her younger brother(s).
That evening after a long time they
ate the Kashmiri food ,wazwan so tastefully made in the
traditional cuisine method. Last time it was at a
wedding of the son of a the prominent political family of
the area in Srinagar. That evening as the elders sat in
the corner smoking, chatting and some drinking. The
young ones had their dinner served by Ahmed’s mother
to supervise them. Both Ghazanfar and Doma were
introduced to her by Dina. As it was only half past
seven, though dark ,the younger lot took permission to
The Riparian Neighbours201
go to Doma’s place. It was only some four-five hundred
yards away. This was a relatively safe neighbourhood.
In any case for all practical purposes it was just four
houses away. This was the elite residential area which
housed the richest. The houses here were palatial and
spread in Acres. The DMs bungalow was the smallest in
the area.
The seven of them left for Doma’s house.
Doma who was equally talkative, spoke breathlessly,
she was the only child in house, rest were all elders or
grown ups. She longed for the company much like
anybody would of same age-group. As they went past
she described each house and the residents therein.
She described the occupants with such ease and grace,
as would Tourist Guide. Doma was very refined and
cultured for here age. Her family was one of the leading
Buddhist scholars of the region who were also very rich
at the same time. The road was lit by the decorative
street lamps with mercury bulbs. The electric supply in
this area was never a problem. As they neared Domas’
place they could see the multi story building after a
very long drive way. There were many cars parked both
outside and inside these were the tourist cabs. All brand
new Ambassadors84. “Ghaz, did you notice the stars,
84 Name of the model of the only car of Indian make then.
The Riparian Neighbours202
there are so many of them , sky is full of them.” Ahmed
and Ghazanfar were walking two three steps behind the
others. “you are damn right handsome!”. Bilqis slightly
turned back and glanced at Ghazanfar, and then looked
in front, with a sigh of disgust. Doma did not stop from
her non-stop description of the neighbourhood but
smiled as if knowing what has happened, Dina and
Chandra knew Ghazanfar well enough, so they did not
even bother to smile. They went to the same school in
Srinagar. She and Dina studied in the same grade.
“Doma how come these Taxis are lined before your
house?” Saif asked with some amazement and in the
same breadth he asked ……is there a party tonight”
Dina chipped in just as Ghazanfar was about to say
something “ Doma has a guest house , it is one of the
oldest tourist inns. The house is in the same compound
right behind it.” She pointed to a separate structure
behind the big building which was now clearly visible.
Ahmed suddenly felt that his right hand was sweaty and
could feel another palm of Ghaz’s hand. All along as
they walked and talked Ahmed failed to realize that
Ghaz was holding his hand. As they entered the
compound, the floodlights made them visible to the
chowkidar standing at a distance. Ahmed tried to
The Riparian Neighbours203
release his hand as he winked at her. Ghaz winked back
and said “NO” in a teasing fashion by opening her
mouth but without making any noise. Ahmed then
moved his lips without making sound “ You are mad….”
And he pointed towards his elder sister. Ghaz was one
persistent person. Ghaz was quite easy going with
everybody, less formal, less protocol. She did what
pleased her, very independent minded for her age and
upbringing. Ahmed loved girls with such attitude , for
such types’ posed a personality and mental challenge.
Although once when Ghaz spoke of his choice of girl for
marriage, he mentioned everything opposite to what he
admired her for. That moment was revelation of sorts
for her, she did try to change but it lasted not more
than a day.
As they walked the drive way and saw
someone walking out towards the gate, Ahmed with a
gentle jerk released his hand from here grip. Ghaz
teased him with a facial expression to which he threw
his hands saying as if saying sorry!!!.
At this point while others who were
mesmerized by Domas’ chatting , Dina gently looked
over here shoulder and nodded her head , smiled and
then started to look straight, as if she was watching all
The Riparian Neighbours204
along with a third eye. Ghaz took a long step, and just
twitched Dina at her neck and then walked normally
next to Ahmed. Dina just didn’t make any noise and
gently rubbed her neck. Their personal chemistry was
very obvious, they have long been friends to know each
others moves well in advance perhaps.
On another occasion Ahmed found out the
two could team up well and in an evil fashion also.
Ghaz’s cousin was at the receiving end. Poor fellow
tried to be extra good to Dina at the cost of Ghaz. So
Ahmed never took chances with the two. As prevailing
wisdom, he never interfered in their affairs, even when
asked by them in their innocuous manners. The man
who passed by them wished them in accented English “
Hi !!! kids” , Ghaz was quick to respond who hissed
“how about you darling!!!”. Either the man didn’t listen
or ignored the little girl. However Bilqis turned clasping
her hands and said quite angrily , more helplessly “you
are some piece of a thing” .Ghaz kept quite, so did
everybody, but they kept walking. Ghaz was walking
with her head low, desperately trying to hold back her
smile. Her cheeks turned deep purple red from the rosy
red, and she bit her lips with her teeth so firmly, that
she gasped for breadth soon after. Bilqis and others
The Riparian Neighbours205
went inside the inn whole Ghaz and Ahmed stood in
silence waiting outside. Only Doma came out to call
them inside, “we will go to one of the empty rooms.”
“Aha Sure why not……”Ahmed “after you Ahmed “ Ghaz
said.
As they climbed the second floor, Ahmed
and Ghaz appreciated the nice interiors made of wood
with ladakhi inlay work. The inlay work was very dark
and bright colours, ferocious looking creatures. Yak also
dominated some inlay work. These were natural colours
made out of leaves, crushed stones, etc. The inn had
three storeyed and was very big with 10-14 rooms on
each floor, with two elevators. As they walked on the
third floor towards the end of the aisle, one could see
the bright and shining stars from the glass panes.
“Come inside ! will you please”, so Ahmed
in chivelrous mood asked Ghaz to go first. Ghaz gently
bowed touching her long black chiffon skirt at its ends
in the traditional English manners. But she suddenly
stopped at the door and stood with the back towards ,
keeping it open and stood there smilingly. She gently
slided her silk scarf lying around from her neck with her
left hand and in the same action swerved it inside the
room, as if asking Ahmed to go inside first. She was the
The Riparian Neighbours206
most unpredictable person and Ahmed was all for her
charms. Ahmed smiled and then entered the room
where every body was seated in rectangle. Some on the
sofas others on the edge of the bed. They were all
chatting and acted as if they were ignorant of Ghaz and
Ahmed’s entry. “The half of this floor is vacant for two
days as the guests are gone for the rafting expedition,
so guys we have this whole place at our disposal. Doma
was wearing yellow pants and a printed jumper on it.
She was very fair with characteristic deep red cheeks,
which you get from the rarified atmosphere. She told
her friends that the interior of the rooms were designed
as assemblage of the three cultural inheritage those
from Jammu, Kashmir and Ladakh. It was her mother
who designed the rooms, she was trained interior and
décor artist. So the Inn was very personalised thing for
Doma’s family. “Yes, but now my dear this room 202
has Delhi” “Oh yes” , Doma quickly responded to
Ghaz’s comment, Ghaz was seated just next to Ahmed
on a two seater, which was lying at one corner where a
pedestal with lamp-shade of yak skin stood next to it.
The room had wall-to wall carpet with woolen ones on
the floor and on the sofas lay the silk ones. These small
silk-carpets were from the Valley, as they were Persian
The Riparian Neighbours207
in terms of design and patterns but for the weaving and
knots which was different though equally fine. Such
exports made the Valley people famous and rich in the
Western apart from being termed as conflict zone. Then
there was a desk and small refrigerator. The room had
wooden panels in three sides and the side where it
opened to the small balcony, the wall paper surrounded
the glass doors. The rooms were not centrally heated. It
came with a small convector and a fire place to keep
the rooms warm during the biting winters. There were
very few houses to have the plumbing facility. This was
a recognized guest house, now the oldest one in the
town. Ever since foreigners were permitted, it was a
thriving place. Business was good. There were lot of
Buddhist travelers that was equally inviting factor for
many young tourists from West. Although unlike
Dharamshala in neighbouring state of Himachal Pradesh
where one could find the young westerners learning
about Buddhism and walking in yellow shirts and
maroon robes. Here it was not so. It appeared more of
Tibetan and Indian form of Buddhism and without the
outside influence. The life still appeared to be moving at
the pace as it did few hundred or thousand years back.
Only the olive green look like colonisers in the remote
The Riparian Neighbours208
and the farthest of civilization on earth. It was
interesting to see the monks with cameras and
watches. Doma took them around , all the rooms looked
similar with yak heads hanging on the wall. They had
comfortable Double beds some had single beds as well.
They also had small colour TV sets . Since there was
very little TV to watch. The Guest House ran three video
channels to choose from. Each room had a small
chinese transistor.
“Guys you wont believe this but I saw TV set
in Pakistan which had just TV tube and small in-built
transformer and noting inside. No valves,etc”, Ahmed
said while playing with the cordless remote of TV and
trying channels. Most of the channels were playing
Hollywood films and English language serials. “ we have
our own customized Dish Antenna but the Army
objected to it so we cant use it anymore, otherwise we
use to receive twenty channels here with the help of
Sattelite receivers. The foreigners like such
arrangements ”. Doma entered the room with a man
behind her holding a large serving tray containing some
dry olives and orange juice. “ Oh ya!!, I saw that in
Pakistan, they have quite a few of them in Karachi and
Islamabad, not many in Lahore. All colour transmission”
The Riparian Neighbours209
Bilqis broke her silence as she sipped juice from a
beautiful French crystal glass which had a shade of
blue. “Wow ! that should be really great” Chandra said
as she picked some dry olives,(which looked equally
fresh if not juicy) in her slender palm on a white paper
napkin. Chandra was the better-looking but not so fair
as her younger sister. The waiter was wearing the
traditional long coat made of yak wool fibre and
embroidered at the collars and at the sleeves round
wrist and shoulder and served with white gloves on. He
wasn’t wearing any traditional cap which men normally
in this part wore at all times. Obviously this was meant
to make the foreigners accustomed to the native life,
which they came to explore. Maroon was the most
common colour for dress after black. Both were sacred
colours. Then Chandra and Bilqis engaged in the
conversation which was drawn from their experiences
from recent visit to Pakistan. The whole set of seven,
divided in the three groups, Ahmed and Ghaz, chatting,
on one side of the bed sat Chandra and Bilqis and then
Doma, Dina and Saif. Ahmed was always discreet. He
avoided mention of his girl-friends to his female
acquaintances. He has learnt this from his experience.
He would gradually reveal himself to the new faces. His
The Riparian Neighbours210
charms came first. This sought of impaired the others
opinion in lop-sided manner. Most of the times he won
accolades as being gentle and nice, chivelrous was the
common adjective with his female counter-parts.
Chandra and Bilqis were now deep into
conversation, when Doma the energetic, entered the
room and spoke in the same breadth, that they have a
dormitory on the same floor which was open and the
same was ideal for the “Eyes-Spies” or hide and seek.
Well lets the play the game. Chandra and Bilqis stayed
while the rest left for the dormitory which was at the
eastern end of the floor Doma as usually walked a step
ahead and walked on her toes most of the time. She
wore the canvas shoes most of the time, with her name
written on it. She was fond of tattoo marks. So she had
one or two on her arms which she changed almost
everyday. Those were not permanent ones. Doma was
gregarious in nature but she was comfortable with
herself when all by herself. This dormitory was not
exactly a dormitory type it had wooden curtains to
separate the beds. Ghaz suggested that the lights be
switched off and the curtains be removed so that there
could be little light from outside. “We always play like
this “ Ghaz came out. She volunteered to be the first
The Riparian Neighbours211
one to be the ‘Den’ They played for some time when
the waiter came upstairs with the sentry who was on
duty at the main gate of the DMs house. He was the
another man who entertained them and kept them alive
on what was happening in remote areas of the State.
There was little to do in normal times for the sentry at
the main gate except for the ceremonial part. He made
Ahmed and others aware that his enfilef.303 rifle which
look so impressive was not capable of firing more than
five bullets in a row, in case of eventuality. At times the
rifle simply refused to fire, it was almost 50 years old.
There was number and which read the name of the
manufacturer and bore the British crown insignia. The
barrel from inside appeared rusted. Although the sentry
whose name was Maroof Butt from the Jammu and
Kashmir Police spent everyday some 2-3 hours
cleaning, polishing, oiling the old rifle, it was of little use
to the already rusted barrel. He was the head of the
three member guard team which lived in tent at the
back of the house. They maintained the round the clock
vigil at the door. At one occasion Ahmed asked Maroof
Butt “you are posted at the main gate but this is a
huge house so what if intruder comes form the other
side?” “ Oh there are three of us, the others keep vigil
The Riparian Neighbours212
on the other side even when off-duty” “But you have
just one rifle and three magazines of bullets” , “Ah you
are an intelligent boy, when it is difficult times we call
the reinforcements like you saw when you came here
first time”.
As it happens many a times when the most
insignificant incident or people influence some very
important decisions, in a perhaps more inspiring
manner than ever. Ahmed who aspired to joint the
Army which he admired for discipline and excellent
opportunities, changed his preference forever soon
after the completion of this visit. It was Maroof Butt
wise words which changed Ahmed’s perception based
on his recent experiences the role Army played and its
real utility. It was two days after Ahmed and his family
returned from the visit to the Nubra Valley and the
Ladakh Scouts functions that culminated with the Air
Chief Marshall being the Guest of honour on the raising
day celebrations. Ahmed along with his brother Saif
took Dina and Chandra to the nearby Army kennel
which was at a stone’s throw away distance. On that
day Maroof Butt was having night duty so he wore
civilian dress and accompanied them .Ahmed was
discussing the kind of display the Army men conducted
The Riparian Neighbours213
and the colourful firing also. The two full rainbows in the
sky worked as wonderful backdrop. Maroof Butt was
listening carefully. He had a character, whereby he
would love to advise children on their taste and
preferences and how to improve on manners. As he
listened to Ahmed intently admiring and his decision to
join Army, he kept quite. Maroof Butt watched Ahmed
very closely on his enthusiasm to learn more and more
about Army and its regime or establishment as would
be appropriate to describe a democratic nation’s Armed
forces. In an country subjected to whims and wishes of
Armed forces such a description would embellish the
same.
On their way back to Dina& Chandra’s
house , Ahmed and Maroof Butt were discussing the
Army and Police, when Maroof Butt took the opportunity
to influence Ahmed’s future aspiration. “Army and
Police is not development, people as intelligent like you
should strive to become Engineers, Doctors, scientists,
teachers and even politicians…” Politicians…
hahahaha…!!!! You must be crazy….Maroof”, “ No why
not…???, if only we could get more good and educated
people in politics, could we improve our lot.” Ahmed
looked over his left shoulder at Chandra who was
The Riparian Neighbours214
walking just behind them and perhaps listening to their
discussion. He pulled her along. “Chand(he admiringly
referred to her)…He says that educated people and
intelligent people should be politicians….in this
country…” Chandra trying to regain her balance, “…
Maroof is correct and I agree….!!!” Chandra spoke with
conviction. Ahmed looked askance and shrugged his
shoulders and threw his hands in air as if in
disagreement. “No No Ahmed, you think over it and one
day when you grow up and learn more about this
world , you will find that I was saying the right thing”
….Maroof Butt, their sentry paused for a moment and
looked behind to check if the others were following
them. Saif, Dina were collecting some wild flowers from
the creeps overflowing the neighbouring walls. He then
turned in front, into an open vast bitumen road which
curved at Doma’s house almost as if disappearing into
thick bushes one side and the houses on the other. The
road faked the horizon.
The Riparian Neighbours215
Chapter IX
It was 8o’clock in the morning when the Khans’ packed in the
Jonga which was their official vehicle with driver Anchuk and Ahmed
seated in front while rest of the family sat in the back. This Jonga
was refurbished had two parallel red color cushioned seats behind.
It had the curtains and came with heater, a stereo and a wireless
set. In another Jonga behind were three subordinates of Saghir
Khan. These men were also invitee to the raising day celebrations
for their excellent work this summer in making the roads functional
across khardungla and beyond Nubra valley up to Saichen. The
highest road in the world at more than 18484 ft above sea level. It
had a rarified air. On top was a small temple with small flags tied to
small strings criss-crossing each other.
Last night Dina and Chandra told them about the burnt
mountains and debris still lying in those barren mountains. Ahmed
and his brother and sister embarked upon a journey in landscape
which they never imagined. The trip would make them that the
vastness of the barren mountain landscape can be equally
inspiring as the vastness of Ocean.
It was the same Air port road, but this time went past the
same. Ona slightly tightly curve they saw an Airforce Avro
approaching the air strip right in the middle of the two rocks. This
was the new route which was devised after the numerous air
accidents involving many Air force jets and other planes. The local
The Riparian Neighbours216
believed that since the Aeroplanes disturbed the sanctity of the
Black goddess while flying over the temple, the accidents occur.
The Air Traffic science never believed the local version, but a new
strip was built in keeping with the local sentiments. The only tricky
part were these two small rocks, which could not have been blasted
away. Any major blast would have changed the course of the River
Indus which ran in its upper course here like a wide but shallow
river. On its banks the Khans and Singh’s went for picnic many
times. On each occasion they caught some small fish and were the
only people at the banks for miles and miles of blue crystal clear
water of the river. It was this river which gave the word India.
The river being unique flowing from China creating valley and
gorge in Upper Himalayas and then flowing into the plains of
Punjab across the current Indian borders with Pakistan. The river
seems to be vibrant slightly noisy like small kids, behaved like
adolescent when it leaves Indian side of line of control into tribal
Kashmir. Long gone were the days when this river would keep the
invaders at bay and challenged. The high water-marks were now
the artificial borders, long drawn by McMohan on a blue print, but
now red patches mark the course of river, the soured riparian
rights, the estranged riparian neighbours. The vibrant youth of the
river-flow was no longer a soothing moment , where the tired
refugee or the soldier could drink the water without being hit by
enemy-fire.
The Riparian Neighbours217