‘Are your mind and heart in the right place?’
Kammo rolled her eyes. Mabibi pretended to frown. ‘Fall in line, ri, what’s all this silly jesting and teasing!’
Finally, Rabeyan lifted her eyes and quietly said, ‘They are dazzled by the Dogra men’s attire and appearance.’
‘Why, my swan-maiden, how are you so wise? You are of their age too, bebo.’
Rabeyan was about to respond when Shahni called out, ‘Mabibi, give two clean mattresses to Bagga, and take out the two new patterned kheses lying on the shelf.’
Chachi was delighted at the prospect of hosting the guests. ‘I say, bachchi, none to compare with your royal brothers! All my hard work is rewarded. It’s not every day that such guests arrive.’
‘Chachi, they had come down to Siyalkot for some investigation. So aunt asked them to offer felicitations for Lali. It is only on such occasions that one gets to meet, isn’t it?’
‘Khair mehar, may all of Lali’s auspicious occasions get celebrated as due in time.’
‘May your words come true, Chachi! Celebrations are brought on by good karmas.’
Chachi promptly launched into the sweet notes of a Ghodi to welcome the brothers. Chhoti Shahni also came and joined her in song.
Shahni was overwhelmed. ‘Sadke on Lali’s grandmother and aunt! What sweet is sweeter than you! Here, sweeten your mouths, Lali Shah’s uncles have brought it from Jammu.’
Chhoti Shahni teased, ‘Such handsome, impressive turbans they sport, and for sweets, just sugared dry corn!’
Shahni raised her brows. ‘At least taste some first, then talk. It’s pure roasted milk khoya!’
Chhoti Shahni took some in her mouth and laughed. ‘Mounds upon mounds of dry fruits in the realm, and you took my teasing seriously! Have a sense of humour sometimes, jithani!’
Shahni blushed. ‘Enough, ri, who has ever won with you in words?’
Come night, the majlis gathered in the lamplight. Kriparam had his chillum filled and offered it around to the guests. ‘Badshaho, taste some. It’s the fragrant tobacco of Kabul.’
Mindful of their elders, both brothers folded their hands respectfully and said, ‘No, thank you.’
The Shahs were full of silent appreciation. Good sons and bad can be recognized from afar. Customs and traditions of our desi darbars are full of grace and good manners.
Muhammadin took the lead in conversation. ‘Badshaho, how is our Dogra Shah of Jammu-Kashmir?’
Mitth Chand’s turban fluttered ever so slightly. ‘Maharaj is high in spirits, and is an able ruler.’
Karm Ilahiji nodded. ‘And what endeavours of the desi darbar?’
Roop Chand raised his brow. ‘The doors of the heavenly darbar are high, and the public bows low in respect.’
When Meeranbaksh coughed pointedly, Chaudhary Fateh Ali started laughing. ‘Shah Sahib, you know Meeranbaksh’s ancestors had come down from Kashmir during the Khalsa upheavals? His heart is still there. Who will explain to him that the humble house of his grandparents was not some Fateh Minar that it will still be standing in Akhnoor. Even if there is some roof or thatch left, who knows how many riders and horses have pissed on it since.’
The cots shook with laughter.
Guruditt Singh scratched his beard, unwound his turban, tied it again, and tucked in the end. Mauladadji commented, ‘Dear Khalsaji, pray, what black magic is this? First you fingered your beard, then you tied your safa. Hope you are not going to draw out Ranjit Singh’s sword next?’
Kriparam warmed to the topic. ‘Badshaho, kirpans and swords are the Khalsas’ natural domain. Now if you were to count cannons instead, that would be something.’
Shahji took his turn. ‘The cannon of Zamzama is reknowned. It is said that whoever owns Zamzama owns Punjab.’
Jahandadji nodded. ‘Badshaho, what is a cannon but a challenge issued by shahenshahs?’
Munshi Ilmdin started. ‘Shah Abdali’s cannon had sunk in the river Chenab near Khwaja Syed. Sardar Hari Singh Bhangi had it retrieved with his clever thinking. And so it became famous as the Bhangis’ cannon!’
Shahji turned the key of his treasure chest. ‘Every royal army and troops had cannons. They were given such impressive names that lightweights wouldn’t even try to test their might.’
Mauladadji started enjoying himself. ‘Tell us a few names so we can also enjoy the taste of Mughal might.’
‘Mughals were experts at maintaining an impressive façade and a repressive mien. Cannons were named almost like princes of royal dynasties: Sherdahan, Ghazikhwan, Garhbhanjan, Fateh Lashkar!’
Karm Ilahiji’s blood sang just listening to the names. ‘Waah-waah! Shabash! Babur’s grandsons and great-grandsons handed down some great ruling traditions. Those were the days when Hindostan had able rulers!’
Kriparam twitched as if some fly had alighted on his nose. ‘Chaudhary Sahib, these are all gimmicks of time. The Mughal reign was glorious while its dynasty was young. When it came into decline, it crumbled to dust before the British firangis.’
When Shahji saw blood hotting up on both sides, he adroitly changed the topic. ‘It has been said and written that Badshah Jahangir went to Kashmir at least eight times. He also breathed his last in Bhimber.’
‘Shah Sahib, in those days, how long did it take to reach Srinagar from Delhi?’
‘Approximately one or one and half months from Delhi to Lahore, add one more from Lahore to Srinagar. The route was the same, via Gujrat Daulatanagar.’
Chhote Shah said, ‘Bhraji, Kabul to Lahore by horse took only ten or eleven days, then why one and a half months from Delhi to Lahore?’
Karm Ilahiji spoke, ‘Lala Vadde said when he had gone to Kashmir, tongas ran between Gujrat and Srinagar. Take it that it was a fifteen-day journey. Full fifteen days just from Gujrat to Srinagar.’
Najiba said, ‘So badshaho, did Jahangir go to Kashmir just to appreciate nature, or was there some war to win?’
‘He went for the spring gardens of Kashmir and its heavenly views. If princes and princesses don’t visit Kashmir valley, will Jatt farmers like us go to sniff the fields of saffron?’
‘Jahangir visited Kashmir eight times and Shahjahan went only four times.’
Munshi Ilmdin said, ‘The king of Bhimber accepted Islam during the times of Shahjahan, and Shahjahan bestowed the title of Raja-e-Daulatmand – King of the Rich – upon him.’
Shahji played his trump card. ‘It was the time of Jahangir. Rajput chief Dharmchand was a very famous expert in Unani medicine. When Jahangir fell sick, he was summoned to Delhi. The badshah had such an awful ailment that even his most skilled vaids and hakeems had admitted defeat. Delhi Darbar announced that whoever could cure Badshah Salamat would get the royal princess in marriage. When Dharmchand got the order, he reached Delhi. By God’s will, he cured the badshah with khameer and kushta medicines. That was it, from Dharmchand he became Shadi Khan to wed the princess.’
Jahandad Khan’s military nature was deeply impressed. ‘First, the status of royal hakeem itself is second to none. On top of that, the badshah’s son-in-law! Waah! High influence at the royal court, and then served by a princess! So our man became the very lord of heavenly munificence!’
‘Jahandadji, therein lies the rub. The Rajput boy grew homesick in Delhi. No mountains, no snow, no cool breezes. To the point that he left Delhi and returned to his homeland overnight. The princess was furious. Complained to the shahenshah. He immediately ordered his army to attack. Shadi Khan fought bravely, but was killed in the battle.’
Roop Chand nodded. ‘There’s a memorial to Shadi Khan in Naushehra sub-division.’
Guruditt Singh said, ‘People say that Dogras and Chibbs share a common origin; are two branches of the same tree – one of Shadi Khan, the other of Dharmchand.’
Maiyya Singh woke up with a start. ‘I say, I think there was one more link by marriage. The daughter of the King of Rajauri was married to Aurangzeb.’
Shahji tried to include Mitt
h Chand and Roop Chand in the conversation. ‘Our guests here are conversant with all this. They are representatives of Jammu kingdom, after all. Yes, Jahandadji, Aurangzeb could reach Kashmir only once, along with his royal army and Begum Roshan Ara in tow. The royal caravan was about to cross the Pir Panjal mountain range when, God knows why, there was a terrible stampede among the elephants. The begum was saved somehow, but many elephants carrying her female entourage fell off the cliff.’
Guruditt Singh shook with laughter. ‘Terrible mishap, Shahji! You only tell, then why would Aurangzeb go to Kashmir again? Losing women goods is not a trivial matter, is it!’
Ganda Singh grinned cheekily. ‘These are all imperial troubles. An army lashkar will not budge unless his brimming honey pots accompany him.’
Maiyya Singh thumped his back. ‘O Ganda Singh, you are matchless! Turning women into honey pots! But what you said has weight. They are indeed like brimming pots … they get emptied by and by!’
Kashi Shah changed the topic. ‘It is heard that after reclaiming his crown, the king of Jammu has come to a good understanding with the British.’
Hajiji wisely observed, ‘Treaties and agreements open ways of passage, and hands are shaken in friendship. One gets what he needs, the other gets his way!’
Roop Chand ventured to say, ‘The lay public could never forge a treaty with the British rulers if they wanted, could they? Treaties are always among equals.’
Munshi Ilmdin couldn’t stomach this. ‘Don’t mind what I say, dear guests, but for ten–fifteen years, Jammu Darbar was struggling to get a grip on things. The old lion was reinstated fairly late in life with Lord Curzon’s support.’
At this, both Roop Chand and Mitth Chand stood up abruptly, as if to a bugle call in the cantonment. ‘Jaidev! Having tasted the maharaja’s salt, it is a sin for us to brook any words against his glory! Bhaiyaji, please excuse us, we will go upstairs and talk to Mausi.’
Hearing this, the turbans on the cots lost their starch. Karm Ilahiji quickly saved the situation: ‘Forgiveness, jagirdaro, beg your forgiveness with folded hands! We beseech you, princes, we are here only to amuse you. Who in this world can taunt Kashmir Shah!’
Mauladadji gave a helping hand. ‘Swear by Allah-Pak, he whose lands were crowned as heavenly by Khuda Himself, he is the king of men! Why would he require help from any pimp of a British laat!’
Shahji travelled to the Riyasat quite often. ‘When Laat Curzon went to attend the ascension of Jammu Darbar, he made it a point to declare that the British Sarkar had no intention of possessing Kashmir to join it with the other states. Meaning, that both governments enjoyed an equal relationship, on par. That was it! The opposition was silenced.’
Deen Muhammad added, ‘Badshaho, the salute of even one cannon carries weight. But Jammu Darbar is accorded a salute of twenty-one.’
Watching Mitth Chand and Roop Chand’s brows clear, Kakku Khan said, ‘Badshaho, what are the glories of the Riyasati army?’
‘Glory of Jaidev! The Dogra army is unparalleled and supreme. Fourteen batallions of alert and fighting-fit troops! One Cavalry Jagirdari in special service of the maharaj. We serve in that very same cavalry.’
‘Balle balle, just like the magnificent maharajas of yore.’
Kashi Shah asked, ‘Roop Chand, what is special about this cavalry?’
‘Bhaiyaji, it is called the platoon of sons and grandsons of the Riyasat’s old faithfuls. Each family-clan of high name and honour sends at least one son to this cavalry.’
Hajiji’s grandson was in the Hong Kong police force. He enquired, ‘Puttarji, and what about expenses and wages?’
Roop Chand proudly replied, ‘Horse of our own, uniform of our own, and service of our maharaj.’
‘This is not any better than other armies.’
The Jammuwalas didn’t care for his casual attitude. ‘Englistan’s royal family also posts cavalries of family loyalists. The way it is there, it is here too.’
Silenced, Dera Jatt’s stubborn hotheads pulled vigorously on their hukkahs.
‘But the situation in other dispensations is not that good, gentlemen. Tell us, how are public grievances addressed in Jammu-Kashmir?’
‘They are addressed promptly. If anyone stands up and says in open court: “Maharaj, I have a plaint,” he will certainly be heard.’
Shahji started laughing. ‘He will certainly be heard, but must proffer nazar-gifts first. Am I wrong, Mitth Chand?’
Mitth Chand smiled charmingly. ‘Bhaiyaji, hundred per cent correct! Maharaj never refuses gifts and offerings.’
Roop Chand promised himself he would attack Dera Jatt one day. ‘The elder maharaj had used the wealth of gifts to construct many temples and Shivalayas. Maharaj had only one intention in his heart: to make Jammu into another Kashi-Benaras. Build pathshalas where Sanskrit was taught.’
Munshiji couldn’t digest this. ‘Indeed, what is beyond the Rajputs’ might? Shahji, our Khan Dar of Baramulla once met me in the Gujrat market. He was going to Amritsar with a bundle of shawls. He told me that whatever Kashmiri Brahmins want to do, they have the full support of their ruler. And the rest of the public is treated worse than during the reign of Muslims!’
Chaudhary Fateh Aliji didn’t think this was justified. ‘Take it easy, Ilmdin, God knows why you keep smouldering like a hukkah’s chillum! Fact is that whichever riyasat it may be, if it is native, it cannot equal the British Raj. Why lie, lion and lamb both drink from the same bank under British law.’
Munshiji was adamant. ‘Chaudharyji, let me come to the point. Kashmir Shah is not a bad ruler. But their pandits-pirzadas have an excess of freedom. Is there any one tax there? Aurangzeb’s jazia is infamous. But in Jammu there’s tax on marriage, tax on eating, tax on lights, selling of saffron, selling of Pashmina, selling of mushrooms …’ Munshi Ilmdin whipped himself into such a fury, he forgot the decorum of speaking in a gathering and raged on, ‘What is more, Muslims are not allowed to keep arms!’
Chaudhary Fateh Ali and Jahandadji picked up their hukkahs and stood up. ‘We are off, Shahji. Munshi is truly venting spleen today, it’s giving us a headache.’
Shahji shook his head and laughed. ‘Don’t take it to heart, Chaudharyji! Munshiji, these are but the twists and turns of history! Jazias were levied, so was tax on labour. But did the people of Hindostan leave their homeland and go elsewhere? And, Rabb do you good, all manner of shahs and badshahs have ruled in the Mughal dynasty too. Simple like Babur, generous like Akbar, and cruel like Aurangzeb …’
Inspired, Ganda Singh came into his own. ‘I say, Jahangir inherited a changed generation. Father was, by His grace, a true Mughal like Akbar, and his mother, a true Rajputani. The temper of blood had to change perforce – and change it did! Now tell us, Munshiji, do you have an answer to this?’
‘Lo badshaho, when the sons of our pind set out to dig, they dug out the great mountain itself. The world has reached Abadan, Africa, and Canada. And these oafs have gone and reached Lahore station! Leaving aside all other uniforms, they had to don the red uniform!’
Shahji frowned. ‘Muhammadin, whom are you talking about?’
‘Them only, our Mehar Ali and Khushiya, of the boatmen Mallahs. The two idiots cooked up a scheme together and went to Lahore. Nai Ramzan sent a letter through Deena of Choranwali that both of them are now working as coolies at the Lahore station.’
Fateh Aliji spluttered for a long time. ‘Look at them, both young and strong. If they had to leave their homes and fields, why didn’t they go enlist in the army? If they really wanted to go, the idiots should have aspired to Hong Kong or Shanghai. Here people have even reached Africa. All that effort the laggards made, and for what – Lahore station! A railway line is being laid in Canada, they could have got passports and headed that way. Could have earned well, lived well!’
Kriparam started finding excuses for the boys’ antics. ‘They have gone to Lahore upon someone’s instigation. Looks like Nai Ramzan had promised them greener pastures. I
was returning from the fields one evening when I saw the three standing and talking at the Khattewala well. I passed them by. Nai Ramzan was laughing, and what was he telling the boys – about Lahore’s gul-gulab and ketaki sharab, its country roses and country liquor! Now you can see for yourself from where all this started. Farman Ali, you must know something, he’s your son after all.’
Farman Ali was deep in thought. ‘Shahji, I cannot think straight. When a grown-up son worthy of riding a horse goes and becomes a beast of burden, a lowly station pony, his father won’t laugh, will he? He will only cry.’
Najiba empathized: ‘Chacha, when I heard, my own mouth went sour. Mehar Ali has such fine features, so well-built. If he dresses well, he would look like a nawab’s son. The boys lost their good sense, what else, otherwise there was nothing lacking here.’
Jahandadji said, ‘Well, if you think of it, there is nothing wrong in two strapping young men wanting to get out of the pind to see the wide world. What is wrong is to choose to be luggage-bearers.’
Karm Ilahiji shook his head. ‘No, these trains are also to blame. People just clamber on, reach the station any which way, and go sit in a bogie.’
‘Chaudharyji, one also has to pay to travel, or not? Though I’ve not seen it with my own eyes, I have heard that Ramzan showed the colour of money to the boys.’
‘Badshaho, the British have spread a wide network of rails. As many trains, as many stations; as many people will get on, get off. They will also carry luggage and baggage with them.’
Allah Rakkha came and sat with Farman. ‘Even I have seen Gujrat station. But one thing I didn’t understand, that travellers alight from the train, and someone else carries their luggage. When our own village folk alight, they carry whatever they have on their head and step out. City folk are different. Coolies bear their luggage on their heads, and these foppish city dwellers walk behind, empty-handed, as if quite bankrupt!’
Karm Ilahiji said, ‘Farman Ali, your boy was sharp and hot-headed since childhood. He certainly has something worthwhile in his brain. Every harvest, he’d sing the same song: that farming is good, but only on one’s own land! You had kept him in check all this while. But he left as soon as he got a chance.’
Zindaginama Page 33
