The
creak was followed by 2 hysterical shrieks and a thundering of footsteps on the
floor as the brother sister duo ran towards the door.
“Grandpa
who did you vote for? Tell us fast, please. We want to count votes and declare
the winner of elections, fast..!”
“Hahah
kids, let me sit down at least. Shumona get me a glass of water, and Vijay get
my spectacles. Then I’ll tell you both a story. A true story about a boy of
your age.
As
the two kids ran off in opposite directions, the old man sighed and wiped his
face with his sleeves. Closing his eyes, he smiled and waited for the two mini
storms to return.
Settling
onto his bed, he made the kids lay down beside him, and keeping one hand on
each, he began his tale.
“Children,
this is a true story. Today, you all can do what you want, and that is the
freedom the nation, the world has given you. This story is about a boy, and how
he had to make choices, he had to take the tough decisions, and not only him,
but also the people around him, the country, and the world. His childhood was
filled with sacrifices, and yet, he became old. From your age, he grew to mine.
“Do
you know about how Pakistan was formed?”
“Yes,
teacher had told something. We got freedom from Britishers, and then Pakistan
got made.”
“That
is not completely true, but yes. This story is based in that time, when food
was scarce, and there were no buildings or electricity and even all this didn’t
exist.”
“We’ll
understand that later grandpa, you just begin the story.”
“So,
one day…”
The
three sat together pondering over the news that had just come in over radio.
There was going to be a new country, for Muslims, for their religion.
“This
is good in a way, and bad in another. What shall we do now,” asked Salman off
his family.
“Do
we have a choice? They are making a special nation for us, so can we deny
them,” asked Fiza.
“Yes
we can. They haven’t forced anyone to leave, have they?”
“But
it is a nation for us isn’t it? Then why shouldn’t we go?”
“The
trip will use all our savings Fiza.”
“Trip?
Where are we going abba? Let’s go right now. Please,” spoke Javed for the first
time in the conversation.
“Javed
sit down. Don’t talk in between. Haven’t I taught you that before,” said Fiza
stealing a stern look at their son, a boy of 5, who just looked away with a
tearful look on his face.
As
Salman began speaking, there was a knock on the door, and their neighbor,
Champaklal Shah walked in.
“Salman
miya, when do you plan on leaving? You should go as soon as possible. I just
received word from my sister in Amritsar that the crowd near the soon to be
border is increasing. We are one of the last to know of the separation. It was
announced there more than a week ago. There are also reports of some violence.
Do not risk your lives, please.”
“Champaklal
bhai what are you saying? Is it a necessity for us to leave? Why can’t we stay
on here?”
“No
Salman, we can’t stay here. What is our future in this nation? We have our own
homeland now. So we shall go and stay there. I am going with Javed; you can
choose to come with me or to stay here.”
“Bhabhiji,
you are right. Salman miya, this place isn’t going to be safe. I could hide you
and your family till it all cools down, but what after that?”
“Then
we shall all leave at first light tomorrow,” Salman said grimly with a nod.
“I
shall tell Raksha to make you a filling lunch for your travels, and we shall
come and drop you to the station as well.”
“Thank
you Champakbhai.”
The
next morning, the train clanged into the station, as the waiting crowd swelled
as one. People clambered onto the train, and those who couldn’t, grabbed onto
the doors and windows and even got on the top.
“Go
home Champaklal bhai. If you come any further, you won’t be able to return.
We’ll manage from here. Javed hold my hand tight. Let’s go Fiza.”
“Happy
journey Salman miya. I will miss you here.”
As
the three searched for a place to hold onto, the train began moving, well ahead
of schedule. The remaining crowd on the station rose and began running
haplessly for a single hand hold in order to get to their destination.
The
Pathans somehow got onto the train, hanging precariously on the lowest step of
one of the compartments.
As
the train picked up speed, Salman said, “Good that we managed to get a place.”
“We
should have come earlier. Then we would have gotten a place to sit too. What of
our land?”
“Champak
bhai will take care of it till we can return to sell it. If not, it shall be
inherited by Javed, who can come and sell it or even live on it later in life.”
“He
will not live on that land, he shall…”
The
rest of her words were drowned in a scream as Javed’s hand slipped from the
handle of the door, and he fell, a veil of darkness overpowering him, as he
screamed for his abba and ammi.
The
curtain of darkness slowly lifted to reveal the two people staring down
intently at him. Rubbing his eyes, he tried to get to his feet, which felt as
though they were made of lead. As his vision cleared, he saw the faces of his
neighbors, Champak bhai and his wife.
“Javed,
just sleep for some more time. The fall from the train has hurt you and you
need time to heal,” said Raksha.
“Where
are ammi and abba,” Javed asked her.
She
just bent her head and turned towards her husband who said, “They tried coming
after you, but there was an angry crowd at the station…there was a riot
too…they couldn’t make it.”
“But
how…kaka,” the boy whimpered, tears welling up in his eyes.
“I
would have waited to tell you this. At least till you were fully fit and
healed. But since you ask I must not delay. There was a clash between Hindus
and Muslims at the station. The sounds you shall hear during the day will be
the same. People are barging into houses just to see if anyone is hiding any
Muslims.”
“Then
what about me?”
“Do
you want to live my child?”
“Yes…but…”
“Then
there is just one way…”
The
old man paused and began getting up.
“Grandpa,
what happened? Where are you going?”
“Kids,
let me have some water.”
“No!
Tell us what the way was!”
“Take
a guess. The one who does it correctly will get a chocolate from me,” the old
man said with a twinkle in his eye, pulling a chocolate bar from his pocket.
“We
don’t know,” the two kids screamed loudly, urging the old man to begin again.
“Then
I’ll have the chocolate alone. Is that fine?”
Shumona
looked at Vijay, and in unison, they began batting their eyebrows, their
expression changing from impatience to that of unbearable cuteness.
“You
seriously think I’ll do anything without you two?”
With
a smile, the two jumped onto their grandfather, who smiled and sat down again
on the bed.
“So…”
“What
way kaka? What would I have to do?”
“Don’t
call me kaka from now on.”
“Then?
I don’t get…” Javed wondered aloud as a wave of understanding swept through him.
“I
don’t have a choice, but I wish to live. I must wipe all this away; I must wipe
away my tears; I must wipe away my past; I must wipe away all that happiness; I
must wipe away my sorrow. Okay dad? And mom,” he went on, dabbing at his eyes
with his sleeve.
The
husband and wife looked at each other, and smiled weakly.
“That
can’t happen! Why didn’t he just run away Grandpa,” asked Vijay in his sweet
voice.
“You
have no brains only, idiot,” Shumona taunted her older brother.
“You
both will never stop fighting, will you,” asked their grandfather, laughing
slowly. “Wish I’d have had someone with me.”
“You
didn’t have any brothers or sisters, Grandpa?”
“No
Vijay, I was a lone child. So, what did you understand from the story?”
“What?
We had to understand something as well,” Vijay asked cheekily, looking at his
younger sister and waiting for her to speak.
“You’re
older, brother. At least try to use your brains. Oh sorry, God didn’t give you
any.”
“Shumona,
you shouldn’t say such things. Vijay is older to you, you must respect him,”
intervened their grandfather.
“Touch
my feet, kid,” Vijay said, keeping them in his sister’s lap and mocking her.
Before
she could answer, her grandfather said, “She is your sister Vijay. She doesn’t
have to be at your feet, but in your arms, with you. You have to support her
forever. And Shumona, as you said, God maybe didn’t give him brains, but he
gave him you.”
There
was a moment’s silence as the children sat, wondering what their granddaddy
meant, and then Vijay went beside his sister, and held her hand.
“Idiot
only you are Vijay. He didn’t mean it literally, mad,” Shumona retorted with a
smile, feigning mockery. “And dada, what was the moral of the story? Even I
didn’t get that part.”
“Every
story ends a good way. And if it is bad, then it surely isn’t the end,” Vijay
said as his sister’s eyes widened.
“No.
I must tell your mother to reduce your television time. And, I wanted to say to
you two that there are some times in life when you have to make tough
decisions. You do not have a chance at that time, but you must make them, for
yourself; or for others. If Javed wouldn’t have made that decision, he would
have lost his life, and so would his neighbors.
“People
didn’t have the choices at that time to decide what they want, but they just
had to do what everyone was doing. But today, I chose who I wanted to lead our
nation, to lead us. Times have changed children, and they always change. We
must just adapt to them, and must adjust our lives so as to live through them.
Always.”
“So
who did you vote for finally,” asked Vijay, his initial question coming back to
him.
“There
are some rules, and one of them is that you must never tell anyone who you vote
for. Not before, nor after.”
“Ignore
him dada, he is mad only,” Shumona interjected, coming out of the trance she
had gone into after hearing her grandfather speak.
“Now
go on. I need some rest, and you’ll have to do your homework too. And send your
father in too.”
“I’m
here dad. Go on children, your mother is waiting for you in the kitchen with
your favorite snacks.”
As
the children went out of the room, he went on, “Javed’s name was changed to
Jatin wasn’t it?”
His
father looked up, and with a smile asked, “You are still as cheeky as you were
in your childhood Rajesh.”
“I
heard the whole story dad.”
“I
know you did. I’m your father, I know every time you breathe son. And, how did
you guess that?”
“My
grandfather had told me the same story, and it was the same except that it was
about a man and his wife who got their son that way. I just linked up your
visiting the mosque on every Friday, and asked you.”
“Go
on to work son, I need to rest,” the old man said, slowly wiping his eyes and
lying down on the bed.
A great story...indeed :-)
ReplyDeleteThank you Ma'am :)
Deletegreat read :)
ReplyDeleteThank you Sir...Keep visiting..!!
DeleteVery nice. So many stories within the story. Beautiful!
ReplyDeleteThank you Sir..glad you liked it :D :)
Delete