Zindaginama

by Krishna Sobti

  ‘They are fast asleep after their meals, long while back.’

  Laudey Khan blackened his mother’s face, darker than the night: ‘Ma, please just try and recall: the day that Abbu died, did you meet anyone at home that night?’

  ‘Puttarji, nobody came that night; nobody came, nobody went. Your father sat you in his lap and fed you roti.’ Saain Ditti’s voice grew tearful. ‘It was a June night, hotter than hot. But your father slept the whole night with you tucked by his side.’

  ‘Then what happened, Ma?’

  Before Ditti could say another word, Jamila cut in, ‘Puttara, like every other day your father rose at dawn. Yes, it’s true that that night there was some shouting of Thief! Thief! on the rooftop. Laudey Khan, you were young then, but you would have also said the same as the others, that the thief was in the dark kothri.’

  Laudey Khan looked at his mother, then at Kamal. ‘Was there a thief in the kothri?’

  ‘Na, re, your ma was asleep in the kothri.’

  Laudey Khan sat up on his haunches. ‘Ma, do try and recall if you caught a glimpse of something in the dark, or heard some noise.’

  Saain Ditti’s tongue stuck to the roof of her mouth. She shook her head. ‘No.’

  Laudey Khan spread his arms wide. Two hearts knew terror. Bashir came and stood before their eyes, pulled to his full height and build. Laudey Khan stretched and cracked his knuckles, then yawned and said to Jamila and Sikandar, ‘Changa, Chacha. Looks like I will sleep after all. Khala, let’s have your roasted khichri tomorrow.’

  ‘Sadke jaoon, a hundred times! I’ll start preparing it tonight itself. I say, sister, if you have some cloves and cardamom pods, do give me some.’ Ditti put some laung-elaichi on Jamila’s palm and she tied them into the corner of her dupatti. ‘Changa ji, so khichri and meat at our place tomorrow.’

  Sikandara and Jamila went over to their rooftop.

  Laudey Khan hesitated at the buffalo’s manger for a small moment, then went outside. Sitting alone on the cot, Kamal would shut his eyes, then open them uneasily; such upheavals in his chest as though some impending storm was about to take over.

  Ditti came and stood near him and whispered, ‘Our relatives have got the boy incited. Spend a few days away from home.’

  Kamal stopped her with a hand. ‘Enough, don’t say more. Bring me a dottahi to cover.’

  Saain Ditti went inside, took down the khes from the bamboo, shook it out, and came out with the khes on her arm, just as Laudey Khan’s machete separated Kamal’s head from his body. ‘Hai O Rabba! Puttara, such cruelty!’

  ‘It is good, Ma, it is done now. Abbu’s son was alive to settle scores. Abbu’s soul constantly hovered around me. Ma, put the cot in the room. Let me take a nap. Then there’s the police station and paperwork.’

  Leaving the thanedar asleep in the baithak, Shahji quietly descended the stairs. Gave instructions to Nawab. Then went upstairs and woke up Kashi Shah. ‘Nawab will escort Joravar to the border. You go before dawn and explain to the Khalsa that he should speak easy and keep his cool. From the thanedar’s talk it seems like this is an enquiry from the secret service department. The other matter, of Gajjan Singh and Darshan Singh, is more worrisome. Both brothers were wounded upon alighting from the ship to Canada. Sarkar is looking for them. They are keeping an eye out, convinced that sooner or later, both will reach their village. Go and warn the Sardarnis, their wives, early morning.’

  ‘Changa, ji!’

  After their morning ablutions, Shahji and Thanedar Sansar Chand sat down to breakfast. Lassi, mattha, butter and ghee-smeared thick besan rotis. When Shahji saw the thanedar enjoying his meal, he said, ‘Sansar Chandji, we two brothers were stuck in farming and lands, but see, you’ve touched great heights by pursuing higher studies! A police officer is no less than a king, after all!’

  Sansar Chand’s sharp features brightened upon mention of his standing. He laughed. ‘Right decision at the right time, you could say. Fate smiled on me.’

  Seeing the thanedar pleased, Shahji took his chance. ‘The newspapers keep publishing something or the other. The Sarkar has been extraordinarily cruel and harsh on the Canada-bound ship. Told the travellers to get off the ship, and gestured to the police – “Fire!”’

  At once Thanedar Sansar Chand became the Sarkar itself in front of his old schoolfriend. ‘It was necessary to teach those rebels a lesson. You are not aware that these Canadian rebels had conspired against the government on a massive scale with an aim to overthrow it! They even decided on the day on which they would take control of Punjab’s administration.’

  Shahji shook his head. ‘But they didn’t, did they?’

  ‘No, they didn’t, but it wasn’t for want of trying. As their visas expired in Canada, they boarded ships to Calcutta.’

  ‘What else could they do! Can a fistful of men shake the government, Sansar Chandji?’

  ‘But the Sarkar felt itself to be in danger internally.’

  ‘It is no small thing to have the capacity and capability to harm such a powerful government.’

  ‘The thing is that the Sarkar is not afraid of a hundred or a thousand or a lakh men. What it fears is the seed of revolt!’

  Shahji laughed. ‘The seed, badshaho, will grow by and by.’

  Sansar Chand enjoyed routing his old friend Shahji who was always ahead of him in the madarsa. ‘If the weeds and brambles are undesirable, they will certainly be uprooted and thrown. Whether it is the Ghadar Party in this part of the country, or the inquilabi Bengalis in that part, the Sarkar will not rest until it destroys the seeds of both!’

  After food, the thanedar wore his kullah and turban and presided like a judge at his own court. The whole village gathered. The first call was for Ganda Singh.

  ‘Sardar Sahib, your son has been dismissed from the army with a blemish on his record. What is he up to these days?’

  ‘Janab, for a Jatt it is either the army, or his lands. If he leaves his lands, he goes to the army, and if leaves the army, he goes to his lands!’

  ‘Call Joravar from home.’

  Ganda Singh settled mulishly upon the cot and shook his head. ‘Na, Thanedar Sahib, doesn’t look like your wish will be fulfilled. The thing is, Joravar has gone to his grandparents’, to the canals.’

  Sansar Chand’s nose and kullah grew straight and angry. ‘Joravar’s comrades have been arrested, so it is useless to hide him.’

  ‘Thanedarji, my home and the whole village is open to you. Search for yourself! Joravar, by God’s grace, is a young and strapping lad, not some doll or a toddler who can be hidden in a lap or in a pot or stove!’

  Karm Ilahiji interrupted, ‘Ganda Singh, you have still not quit your habit of sarcasm. Thanedarji, don’t mind Khalsaji’s humour. His nature is such. After all, it is a family of faujis. If in uniform, fight for the government; if on the fields, then make people laugh a little after a hard day’s work.’

  The thanedar frowned. ‘Will he return by evening?’

  ‘Na ji. He should have reached Khoda by now.’

  The thanedar’s nostrils flared. ‘Why, does he plan to take a salt contract there?’

  ‘Na ji. Badshaho, he is one ungrateful harami, he’d never pay back the debt of salt. He would never do anything which would earn him two rupees to give his father!’

  Shahji said to mollify the thanedar’s rising temper: ‘He will return, Thanedarji. He will certainly be back by your next visit.’

  Thanedarji cast a long, keen look at Ganda Singh, then shook his head and said, ‘Call Joravar back. A government inquiry is not a game of dolls.’

  ‘What do I say, Thanedarji, ask me about the fauji jawan’s mind, his mentality. He is both independent and proud.’

  Chaudhary Fateh Ali showed tact by saying, ‘Janab-e-Aala, the majority of our village youth are in the army. They have joined with great enthusiasm. What is all this inquiry of our kaka Joravar? All we know is that he is on leave of absence. Furlough.’

  Thanedar considere
d it necessary to flatten the whole village in one go. ‘Chaudharyji, keep an eye on your boys. That a boy of your pind should be a comrade of those who looted the Moga treasury, this is not good for your village.’

  Shahji turned the conversation around. ‘Thanedar Sahib, something is very wrong somewhere. You know best, but you can’t compare the rebels who looted the Moga treasury with this fauji family of three generations! Moga Firozpur and our village are poles apart!’

  Thanedar fixed Ganda Singh with a stare. ‘One who rips off his stripes and throws them at his captain, we have his measure and his remedy too. And the crime at Moga …’

  Ganda Singh picked up his turban. ‘Thanedarji, when the Moga treasury was looted, Joravar was with his platoon. No doubt, you can verify as much from his platoon.’

  Thanedar Sansar Chand’s eyes grew flinty. A frown sat on his brow. Those looking on knew that a storm was about to break out. And indeed it would.

  Shahji quietly gestured with a hand, and without another word, the cots were vacated. Shahji called for lassi. The thanedar was silent for a while, then said, ‘Sarkar regards with suspicion the village that has two or three rebel homes. The brothers Gajjan and Darshan Singh have been wounded by bullets – how long can they dodge the police? Shah Sahib, can we make their wives say something?’

  Shahji gestured with a hand. ‘Janab, this is a fauji village. Right now, one child from every home is at the warfront. Your talking to the sardarnis won’t leave a good impression.’

  ‘Shah Sahib, you are the government’s well-wisher. Keep an eye on these rebels and offenders. According to my information, Joravar Singh is very much present in the village.’

  A strange smile played on Shahji’s lips. He shook his head and said, ‘I submit that a village is not like a city. Even if a leaf stirs, everyone knows of it. The Sarkar may well look away from seven murders, but it stations a police chauki at the slightest rumour of rebels!’

  The thanedar got ready to leave. Nawab untied his horse and brought him forward. When Shahji shook his hand for the sake of friendship, the thanedar said, ‘Keep an eye on the families of Ganda Singh, and Gajjan Singh and Darshan Singh. Sarkar expects at least this much from you, Shah Sahib.’

  When Chhote Shah returned to the haveli after escorting Thanedar Sansar Chand till the road to Naushehra, the gathering was back in full strength.

  Chaudhary Fateh Ali was worried. ‘Whatever you say, Shah Sahib, this is not a good beginning. It has happened sometimes that a thanedar arrives to investigate a dacoity or murder. But matters of revolutionaries and inquilabis have never before been probed in our village.’

  Mauladadji agreed, ‘Seen this way, it is not good that someone from this village is being called out for such matters.’

  Jahandadji said, ‘It is indeed a fact that Joravar has left the army. Even in suspicion it …’

  ‘Not because I am the boy’s father, but, badshaho, just think about it – when was the Moga treasury looted, and when has the thanedar begun his sniffings and inquiries – only now.’

  Meeranbaksh said, ‘Shah Sahib, I vaguely remember you had read out this news from the paper.’

  ‘Most certainly, this pertains to Pind Mishrival. Five or six rebels had got together and tried to loot the Moga treasury.’

  Munshi Ilmdin sparkled, ‘The rebels hired three tongas from Moga and started towards Pind Mishrival, where Basharat Ali, Jwala Singh Zaildar and some others were waiting for the police captain. He was expected there on his rounds that day. When Basharat Ali asked the tongas to stop, Jagat Singh, sitting in front of the first tonga, shot him dead. At the sound of gunfire, Zaildar and the others made a run for it. Jagat Singh shot Zaildar too. It was a group of six brave men – Jagat Singh, Bakshish Singh, Lal Singh, Dhyan Singh, Jaivarey Singh, and Kashiram Joshi. When the village people heard the shooting, they thought it was dacoits, and surrounded the village. I have heard that Jagat Singh was caught, the rest are still absconding.’

  Mauladadji exchanged a long look with Shahji and shook his head. ‘Shah Sahib, the police has left Moga and Ferozpur and turned this way, there must be a reason.’

  Ganda Singh started laughing. ‘Munshiji, you remember the issue by heart. The question now is, where have the criminals gone?’

  The gathering lost colour.

  Munshi Ilmdin flared up. ‘Khalsaji, I am neither thanedar, nor sipahi. I told you what I read in the newspapers.’

  Taya Tufail Singh was dozing. He now woke up as the newspaper incarnate. ‘Badshaho, while returning from Bengal last time, when I stopped at Lahore, wherever I went, just one issue was being discussed – Ghadar, rebellion. The rebels had pasted these posters on the walls:

  ‘What is your name? – Ghadar!

  ‘What is your mission? – Ghadar!

  ‘What is your profession? – Ghadar!

  ‘What is your conscience? – Ghadar!’

  Muhammadin said, ‘Badshaho, then there will be violence. Right now the Sarkar is busy at war. Our forces are fighting with great valour and courage. This slogan of the revolutionaries seems most untimely.’

  ‘This slogan of Ghadar first rose in Canada itself.’

  ‘Badshaho, this begs thought. When the government is sitting in Delhi, and you start your fight and rebellion from Canada, how far can it go?’

  Guruditt Singh said, ‘The fact is, badshaho, that our Hindostani public is heard and valued less in other countries.’

  Deen Muhammad shook his head. ‘That is because our country is under British rule. Let it be, but our men will never tolerate this. Hope they don’t do something rash.’

  The newspaper headlines swam before Shahji’s eyes. ‘Our people are considered lowly and below par in Africa. Once a year or six months, I get a letter from my brother-in-law.’

  Karm Ilahiji asked, ‘Who, our Savanmalji?’

  ‘Yes. Five or seven men had boarded the ship to Africa from Kotla Ravvali Khan.’

  ‘The money is good, but Hindostanis are treated as badly as the Muslims. They are constantly being ticked and told off – “Don’t be seen here. Don’t go to that locality. Don’t be visible here. Don’t walk on the road at night.”’

  ‘Badshaho, so then there is much humiliation in going abroad!’

  Mauladadji grew incensed. ‘Meaning, that a man goes abroad to work hard and earn well, and receives this kind of treatment to boot? How is this collaboration based on equality then?’

  ‘It is forever in the news that the situation is not good in Africa. A Gujrati lawyer by the name of Mohandas Karamchand Gandhi has already gone to Africa. The man seems stubborn. He sat adamant, saying – let the British Sarkar indulge in all the terror and oppression, I will neither eat nor drink!’

  ‘Shah Sahib, pray what whimsy is that?’

  ‘He’s a lawyer after all; he has his own argument. The injustice is yours, but I will punish myself for it.’

  Chaudhary Fateh Ali nodded to himself for a long time. ‘Badshaho, this is some entirely new line of thinking.’

  Karm Ilahiji broke out coughing. ‘Shahji, this kind of tantrum is often witnessed at home as well. If the wife wants some trinket or jewellery, she stops her food and water, saying – get it made, or I will die hungry!’

  Najiba started laughing. ‘Badshaho, it’s a matter of who catches whose dog first. If the Sarkar’s dog is caught, then the Gujrati lawyer will certainly be heard!’

  Meeranbaksh asked, ‘Shahji, what family does this lawyer belong to? There are many Gandhi families in Gujrat Jhelum too.’

  Shahji shook his head. ‘No, Meerabakshji, this man is not from our Gujrat. There is another Gujrat of Bombay too.’

  Munshi Ilmdin nodded. ‘Ji, it is the land of Bohras and Khojas. Our lawyer sahib must be from there.’

  Ganda Singh came into his own. ‘Our people in Canada say that if the British Sarkar is the same for all its subjects, then why this bias against us in Canada? There are at least fifteen to twenty thousand of our Punjabis settled there. And then
there are their families. The number of British subjects will rise!’

  Shahji spoke, ‘From what one gets to know of the situation, it seems that resentment is also one of the reasons.’

  Karm Ilahiji left the hukkah. ‘How so, badshaho?’

  ‘Punjabi men are more hard-working than the Chinese and the Japanese. Others are a bit less so. That is what led to this ill will.’

  ‘But the Sarkar at least should do justice!’

  ‘Sarkar has brought out a new law on visas. Now you pay two hundred pounds to go, and if the wife is accompanying you, then two hundred more. This is harsh, isn’t it? That is why thousands have left Canada.’

  Kashi Shah said, ‘When the railway line was being laid out in Canada, our men had gone there in large numbers. Last year when I went to Gujranwalan to shop, I happened to meet Sardar Harbans Singh at the shop. We sat talking for a while. He said that earlier our men underwent their medical check-up in Hong Kong, the government order being that even if there’s a slight problem, don’t let them pass. Our people said, fine, make sure by all means. Examine them well. The body-machinery of our men is not bad. But if there was any leniency here, our people would get a raw deal on reaching there.’

  Nobody knew why Ganda Singh was silent until then. Finally he turned to Guruditt Singh, ‘Your brother-in-law’s family is in Lumbia. Why don’t you say something?’

  Chhote Shah corrected him, ‘Not “Lumbia”, the country is called “Columbia”.’

  ‘Fine, whatever. It so happened, Shahji, that my brother-in-law and his wife both got ready to go. By coincidence, someone got them to meet Bhai Bhag Singh and Bhai Balwant Singh. Both were granthi and pradhan of the gurudwara at Canada. They had their wives with them too. My brother-in-law and his wife joined them.’

  Fateh Aliji nodded. ‘Often happens, no, in foreign lands? It is good to have the company of your own people.’

  ‘Ji, first there were many complications in Hong Kong. When they finally reached Canada, see what the good English government does. They let Bhai Bhag Singh and Balwant Singh disembark, and arrested their wives!’

  ‘Guruditt Singh, what happened to your brother-in-law and his wife?’