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| Pramila Varma |
Original: Pramila Varma
Translated from Hindi by Yamini Srivastava
He had been thinking about it from several days. One day,
he mustered the courage and went up to the jail superintendent and said – “Sir,
May I request you to give me a notebook and a pen? I want to write something.”
Mr. Nayak, the jail superintendent smiled. He wondered what this Indian, rather
Hindu, who sends information to Pakistan, would want to write about. Maybe
about his experiences. He gave his approval.
The always quiet and hardworking Mohsin did
not ever, by any means, seem like a secret agent to the calm natured jailor
Nayak. But what could he have done? According to the evidence found against him
and the sentence given by the court, he was a traitor. The court had given
clear orders to keep a close eye on him, and had sent him to the jail,
sentencing him to a rigorous imprisonment of ten years. After receiving a 200
page notebook and a pen from the jail superintendent, when he bowed down to
touch his feet, he was deeply moved. But the punishment had been given to
Mohsin. He said “Atul” and he became astonished… “Atul Jagtap Sanganeria…” He kept looking at him, surprised. “Mohsin
has been finished… Now you are Atul. A good person. I’ve understood it in all
this time. Go and kill Mohsin in this notebook, and go and live Atul.” He kept
standing with his head lowered. Jailor Nayak left.
Sitting
in his barrack with his legs spread out in front, with the notebook placed on
them, he kept thinking where he should start… The entire time period of these
fifteen years started playing in front of him like the reel of a cinema.
On the first page, he wrote Mohsin Khan…
Then scratched it off… Then wrote Atul… Scratched it off again… Again wrote
Mohsin Khan. Yes, that is the name he had been living with for the past fifteen
years. Like a patch sown into a torn cloth, this name had become stuck to his personality.
Where
are you Monica…? With the name Monica, a light shined in his eyes first… Then a
spread of darkness and his eyes filled with tears. Many times when he cries a
silent cry, his same-aged companion Rizwaan, gives a slap on his back – “Brother,
why do you cry? You are so well educated. What big job would your country have
given you that would’ve kept you happy? You would’ve just toiled for years. So
many people keep wandering in search of jobs in your country. Millions of
rupees are given by the high commissioner to several people like you. Our
commander has it delivered to everyone’s house. Just keep doing their work.
Your sister will be able to have a big wedding there. Your father and mother
must be cruising around in a big car. And even you are living a better life,
isn’t it?”
“And
what a better life are you living, Rizwaan? Everyone in your family must be
enjoying… And you?” Traitor!!! He stopped before saying it. Where have you come
from…? Rizwaan kept a finger on his mouth. Meaning, be a terrorist even if you
do not wish to. Rizwaan remembers when the sudden sound of boots had turned his
calm city of Kulgaam helpless. And looted the people of their own community.
Abused them. How the sisters of ammi[1] had
hidden in the store room. He was sixteen years old then and had been captured
by these people… Whether Rizwaan or Mohsin, it is the same story. Even Rizwaan
does not know how happy his mother, father and sister are.
“I’m
unable to eat these lumps of meat… How can one eat this after causing someone
so much pain and suffering? Doesn’t their sadness enter our bodies?” When he
had said this once in the beginning, the cook had thrown a plate of shorba[2]
made with spicy chillies on his face.
For
many weeks, he would just lie down with a cool paste on his eyes. Then he
stopped saying anything at all. He would put the pieces of meat on the plate of
any inmate sitting beside him and would somehow just eat the dry rotis[3] by dipping them in the shorba.
Now he is used to eating like this.
Those were the days of college… Filled
with joy. When he had taken admission in college, along with Monica and other
classmates. In the very first year of the degree college, Monica and he felt
that this was not an ordinary friendship, but a bond that had turned into love.
At first, he did not believe it. But
Monica believed that not only was he good at studies, but also in every area of
life. He was an athlete… Passing college in first class… And played the flute.
His uncle would play the flute so he ended up learning as well.
And
then, with continuous practice, he was able to play several different tunes
with the flute. It was because of the flute, he was given the role of Krishna
in the drama ‘Kanupriya’. The role of Radha was given to a dainty looking girl
named Pooja… Monica was upset. “You suggested Pooja’s name on purpose”, she had
said. But that was not the case.
Atul was entirely Monica’s. The
college professors would say that the flute is the first tune of our country’s
culture. After her anger cooled off, Monica had started calling him Kanu. Later
on, he became popular amongst his circle of friends as Kanu. They were all in
the third year of their degree. He planned on pursuing MBA in the future.
Monica was interested in English literature. Everyone had chosen some path or
the other.
Sometimes,
they would both sit down beside the seasonal river that flowed behind the
college. Where several dreams would swim in their open eyes… Guarding those
dreams in her eyes, Monica would slowly rest her head on his shoulder and close
her eyes so none of those dreams could fall down from them.
Atul had shared that his younger
sister Rekha wished to appear for the state service exam. “She would need
coaching for that. But maa[4] believes
that after Rekha finishes her graduation, she should be married off. But
Monica, I will let her study. She’ll do whatever she wishes to do. I’ll also
have to arrange the money that’ll be needed for her wedding.”
He
shared again – “As you know, my father is a bookkeeper for a court lawyer. His salary
isn’t very much.” Monica gently pressed on his hand. This was an agreement and
an assurance that Atul, you can do this… And I am with you.
They
had an ancestral home that had a big courtyard and two rooms. Father’s salary
is able to take care of the food, etc. but other expenses are difficult. After completion of his MBA, he will have a good job and take care of
it all. Just see… We will have a big flat… Where Monica and I will make all our
dreams come true. Golden dreams started to float in his eyes. Even Monica
started to glisten in the radiance of those dreams.
Along
with pursuing the studies for MBA, he started working at a press for a few
hours in the evenings, so that he could provide for the expenses for his
studies. One of his classmates, Vivek’s father was a builder. One time, he had
even gone to see a building that was being made. He said to his friend Vivek –
“I will buy a flat in this building. I just need to get the MBA degree, and
then I will also be able to get a loan. Vivek’s father said he could live in
one of the flats that were ready, in the building that was still under
construction. Because he was experiencing difficulty with finding
accommodation. He even said he could buy this flat. He knew that the flats were
not going to get sold soon. Since Atul was looking for a place to live, he
could have lived there. He thought it would also be good for the security of
the building. The builders even wished for someone else to live there as a
security measure. So he could have stayed there until then. Even though the
building was in the outskirts. But the city keeps growing. There are many
transportation options for traveling to the college and back. He wanted good security for his
building and his older watchman also had a crippled leg now and could not be
relied upon. All material was lying around the building. Atul liked the offer
and he came over to start living there.
Monica
had come to this flat twice. She was happy to see such a nice and big flat. He
was telling Monica excitedly – “See, Monica, this will be our room… And this
will be mother and father’s… This big hall will be our drawing room. You like
indoor plants, isn’t it? You can put them here and your aquarium will be here!
There will be enough air and sunlight coming in through the balcony so the
plants will stay healthy. This room with so many cupboards will be Rekha’s. She
loves cupboards a lot. Her computer will be kept here so she can study”, saying
so, he went close to Monica who was making tea on the stove, and embraced her
from behind. Monica was present in every joy of his.
That
day, he had just returned from college and had just sat down, drinking tea and
reading the newspaper on the mat that was laid out on the floor, when suddenly
the door, which was not locked from the inside, was burst open by around
six-seven people. All of them had their faces covered with a cloth. One of them
was holding a revolver.
What
is this…? He was surprised. What is even there to loot in this empty house?
“Who are you people?”, he asked. “And what do you want from me?” He was even
feeling scared. They sat down around him. Two-three of these men remained
standing with their backs against the wall. One of them said – “See! You’d have
to do whatever we’ll say. We will give you lots of money. You won’t be able to earn with these studies…
this job… How much our leader will give you. One of them took out pictures of
his mother, father and Rekha from his pocket and showed him.
“We will come tomorrow morning. Don’t go
anywhere. We will have our eyes on you. We will keep our machines in this house
of yours. You are an intelligent and well-educated boy. You are quite valuable
to us. You will have to send important information from here to the border.
Then they will be sent over to our country via an agent.”
“What
do you people want? Why will I do all this?” he said as he almost cried.
“You’ll
come to know all that”, saying so, they threw a ten thousand rupees bundle and
took off. After they left, he kept thinking… What to do? Should he call the
police? But their pockets had the pictures of the three of them.
Monica’s
place had a phone. Should he tell Monica? No! No… Right now, they’ve three
pictures. They should not add a fourth. When he walked over to the window in
fear, he saw that two people with their faces covered were sitting on the
bridge and he became even more fearful. These people are definitely from a
militant organization. And they will use me to send information at the border.
He did not sleep all night and just kept pacing in the room, feeling afraid.
Those people arrived early in the morning. Slowly, the wooden containers were
being brought upstairs and then they were opened. The machines came out. There
was a teleprompter which means they had found out that he worked for the
newspaper at night. When the watchman downstairs asked them, they said – “This
is factory work which has to be completed by that boy.” He declined clearly,
saying that he cannot do all this. He does not even know how to do it.
One
man, who had a strong physique, pressed his neck so forcefully that he started
to see flames in front of his eyeballs. He had become helpless. Then on the
second day, another man came and took out the machines and gave him the
information. He even ordered not to decline anything because he was a part of
their list now.
He
did not come out of his flat for a whole month. His life had now taken a shift
towards terror. The noise of machines being handled could be heard coming from
that room… the one in which his dreams were going to come true with Monica. He
had to do whatever he was told. He found himself standing in the list of the
traitors of the country.
Here,
Monica was feeling scared because she had not gotten any information about Atul
for a whole month. She knocked on the door. The door opened. She came inside…
After seeing him, Monica was struck by surprise. Her Kanu was surrounded by
these people as he attached some papers that came out from hefty machines.
Seeing Monica in front and wondering what she would think, he became extremely
fearful.
“Monica,
you’re here?”
“And,
what are you doing here?”
“I…
I… Nothing really. These are my customers. I’m doing their work.”
Monica
was not so na├пve to not have understood anything. All of them had their faces
covered with a cloth.
“You
are doing these terrorists’…”
He
kept a finger on Monica’s lips and nodded his head to say “no”.
“You
go, Monica! I will meet you soon and tell you everything.”
Monica
felt leaving was the right thing to do. She was not ready to see her body in
shreds. And how was Atul going to stand against all of these people…
As
Monica walked her way out, she was told – “Aey Madam, say anything to
anyone and you along with your family will be cut apart with a saw.”
All
night, Monica faced the conundrum of whether or not she should inform the
police. But she feared if those people would kill Atul.
Even
she was unable to go to college for two days. The machines that she saw there
are most certainly being used to send information outside. But why Atul?
Because Atul was a bit different. They must have found that about him and went
to him thinking he would be the right one for getting this work done. It would
have also been helpful for them that the building was far away from the city.
Just two days later, it was in the newspaper. A boy studying for MBA and found
to be sending out secret information, is on the run. Two boys from the city are
missing. As soon as she read the news, she fell down right where she was
standing. So now my Atul will never return…
Atul’s
mother and father, along with sister Rekha were themselves standing in front of
the building consoling each other. A crowd had gathered there.
Now his name was Mohsin and he had no choice but to live in
a wooden house in a snow covered region along with many other boys.
They were all being given all the training that is known
for causing terror and panic. When one of those boys had attempted to escape,
he was tortured to death. Witnessing his death had caused a great shock and
fear amongst all of them.
Some girls and women from a remote area would come there.
Wonder what all they told the leader of this group! They were given money and
that leader would even satisfy himself with them. It is possible they had also
been forced just like them.
Sometimes the sounds of gun shots and screams of the
injured could be heard coming from the hills. It would be revealed in
conversations that there had been a conflict with the army and other such
people.
One day, he wrote a letter to Monica with his address
written in it and hid the envelope. But he was caught and what all happened to
him following that, he does not even wish to remember it.
Ten years were about to be passed, living with these
people… Running and finding a new spot again. Now he had stopped thinking about
his family. Many new boys came and were either killed during fights or killed
by these very people. Or sent elsewhere.
He was never able to understand what it was that these
people wanted. Sometimes, he would sit with a flute (that he had bought from
some roadside vendor) on a rock somewhere far. Did the tunes of the flute reach
Monica?
Rizwaan came and sat down beside him. “Oh brother, we want
Kashmir. Kashmir is ours.” What could he have responded with? He knows. When
sounds crash with high mountains, they return.
Now Rizwaan had grown into a handsome 26-27 year old man.
Even he was considered a hero in college because of his height and mannerisms.
Now he does not even remember which hero from the films he was compared to.
“Which freedom are you talking about, Rizwaan?” he asked in
a low voice. Even the air here is filled with dread. No one should be able to
hear.
“Kashmir itself wants to be freed”, Rizwaan responded.
How was a well-educated person living with such deranged
minds since ten years! He knew and understood everything bust just stayed
quiet.
He was not scared anymore. He wanted to end this life. When
you cannot find a path in front or on any sides of you, what will you do?
That day, after the Maghrib namaaz[5]
in the evening, they were talking. Maybe a bit far from the border, extremist
men who are headed in the direction of creating terrorists are coming with
weapons, drugs, explosives, etc. and they have to be taken somewhere... For
some reason, he told himself that he will take care of this task. He openly put
forth his proposal.
The following day, Rizwaan and he left for this work very
early in the morning. Rizwaan did not know what was going on in his mind.
Explosives, weapons, drugs etc. in a sealed loading vehicle. Meaning, the
vanishing of a whole group. A dangerous explosion will occur in a crowded area.
Today or whenever. But it will happen for sure.
He arrived to the main street with the vehicle along with
Rizwaan. Far along the way, Rizwaan had said – “The police is following us.”
Moving forward, he purposely turned the vehicle in such a way around the cliff
that it flipped over several times before falling into a deep trench. Before it
could hit the ground, Rizwaan jumped out screaming “brother…” And even he
jumped off. The vehicle fell. It was later found that the vehicle had fallen
down more than seven hundred feet. There was an explosion and it caught flames.
Rizwaan stood up. No injuries anywhere. He was in a state of shock… But he was
happy… This was his mission even if it would have led to a painful death but
now… Only his elbow had been injured. When he regained consciousness in the
hospital, he found himself surrounded by the police. He wanted to tell his
story to the army… This was his win… He was content with whatever he shared.
He was sentenced to ten years of rigorous imprisonment. And
those ten years that he had spent with these terrorists… His case was not so
easy. He went to get a second notebook from the jailor who had changed now.
While handing him the notebook, he said that jailor Nayak had insisted… On
account of his good behaviour, he would be getting released sooner. Rizwaan was
astounded. About what he had said in the court. Both were locked up in the same
jail. After years of experiencing abuse at the hands of these people, he had
not been able to truly surrender in front of these people. But he…
After getting out of the jail, he was struggling to figure
out where he should go. It was in the headlines of the local newspaper those
days that in the farms near the Akhnoor area, a farming couple had become the
target of gunshots from across the border while working in the field. They had
a nine year old son. This boy has now become an orphan. He expressed that he
would like to meet this child and live with him. The child’s name is Atik. Over
the years, he had learned all the rituals and customs of Islam and muslims. He
started living with Atik in his house which was near the black forest.
One day, when he was roaming in the forest, his flute was
also with him. He sat down under a tree of that forest to play his flute after
years. He remembered the tune of the Kanupriya play and started playing it. How
lovely was the season in those days… So many dreams in the eyes… Monica… A very
good career, and the wish to do everything for the sister. Thinking so, a
stream of tears started to glisten in his eyes that had been empty for so long.
At the first, the flute notes were shaky but then they got
stable. It was evening time and he gazed far out deep in the forest, which was
getting darker and darker with the sun was wishing to set behind the trees. In
the golden rays of the setting sun, a figure came up and stood and then
screamed loudly… “Kanu…” He stood up in a state of panic.
When the long affair of tears finally settled, Monica
shared that she had just come there roaming. She was staying in a guest house
nearby. Then she said – “Atul, I was waiting for you to return but my feelings
were not understood by my parents. My parents thought you will never return. I
got married two-three years after you left. To this day, I’m in touch with
Rekha. We both meet. Your uncle sold your house to marry off Rekha. Uncle took
your parents with them. But Atul…” He
understood that they both had left the world, waiting for him.
“But your sister Rekha never forgave you.”
“Yes, indeed. Whatever she had heard, she wouldn’t have
ever been able to forgive.” At first, he got surprised after hearing this, he
questioned to himself ‘does Rekha could ever think that I am a traitor?.
He handed Monica both the notebooks. “Give this to Rekha.
Maybe she’ll be able to forgive me after reading this. And then you should tell
me if I could come to meet or if she can.”
He had taken Monica to the house for giving her the
notebooks. Monica saw that her brilliant MBA classmate Atul now lived a life that
was below poverty level. “What will you do now? Should I send your certificates
after getting them from Rekha? She has held on to your belongings, Atul. She
thinks that you’re not in this world!!!… But I believed you were, and will meet
me one day.”
He sighed, “What will I do with the certificates and a
degree? The black spot that I carry with my name…” And then he could not speak
further.
“First, I will read this diary and then give it to Rekha.”
Atul kept looking at the tears that had settled into
Monica’s eyes without blinking. Monica turned around and allowed the drops of
tears to flow down from her eyes…
Without turning back to look, she started to walk down with fast-paced steps. And Atul, standing in the house noticed her shiny long black hair spread over her shoulder with a similar kind of physique as she was during the college days was now moving apart from him. He felt unease in his stomach after a thought that he would not able to meet her again. He tried to stop her but Monica was vanished somewhere in the black forest. He then turned towards Atik who was standing behind him and said “Boy lets go to the forest for some wood to fuel up the fire, it is too cold now a days” he turned towards the door which is now open to the dark black forest…
[1] Ammi -
Mother
[2] Shorba -
Gravy
[3] Roti –
Traditional Indian bread
[4] Maa -
Mother
[5] Maghrib
namaaz – Evening prayer of Muslims
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