Rabeyan called again, ‘Leave it in the sun and come here. It will dissolve by itself.’
Lali snicked the tip of his quill with a knife, put it in the inkpot and came and sat by Rabeyan. Laughing, he opened his reader, shut his eyes and recited, ‘Barkat is lying in his crib and sucking his thumb. Barkat’s mother is sitting nearby, making curry. Barkat’s father is smoking a hukkah. Barkat’s mother rejoices watching her son. She thinks, Barkat will grow up. He will work hard. He will earn. He will eat and be happy. Feed us, and give us joy.’
Mabibi came and stood nearby. ‘Sadke on my Lali Shah! Let us also hear who all you will feed!’
‘Rabi behan, shall I tell the names? I will feed Chachi. I will feed Ma. I will feed Mabibi, and Rabeyan behan.’
Sitting at the spinning wheel, Chachi stopped her spinning for a moment and holding the thread, asked, ‘I say, but what will you feed us with? What food? Name it.’
Lali grinned with mischief. ‘Chicken, Chachi, I will feed you all chicken!’
Rabeyan got up and pulled Lali’s ears and glared at him. ‘Is this how you speak to your elders? Come and say sorry to Chachi and Mabibi!’
Skipping about, Lali touched their feet in turn. Then taking his reader in hand, quickly did pairipauna to Rabeyan too. Rabeyan pulled his ear again. ‘How many times have I told you, you don’t touch the feet of lesser people. You remember this from today, or I will complain to Chachaji!’
Lali sat down cross-legged and opened his alphabet book. ‘Rabi behan, you are older than me. So what if I did pairipauna to you?’
Chachi scolded, ‘Stop it. He goes on arguing. If you have been told once that you are not to touch Rabeyan’s feet, then why …’
Lali grew irritated. ‘Then how do I greet Rabi behan, tell me? “Ramsatt”? Tell me, shall I say “Ramsatt” to her? Hug her in Eid?’ Lali went and hugged Rabeyan.
Chachi lost patience. ‘Leave her be, I will tell you. You should say salaam to Rabeyan!’
‘Salaam, Rabeyan behan, salaam!’
Rabeyan thwacked him lovingly on the head. ‘You have left nursery class way behind, so why are you still reading the alphabet today?’
‘Just seeing if I remember it correctly, Rabi behan; that I haven’t forgotten!’
Shahni called out, ‘You have not stopped your chatter yet!’
Lali immediately took up the Sakina.
‘Where Shah Najaf, where Madina
Come evening I head home to Sakina
My Lord is Paighambar, of the caste of God,
I aspire to His home, Sakina –’
Suddenly Lali pricked his ears and said, ‘Rabeyan behan, listen! It’s the buffalo calling! Do you hear?’
‘I hear it. Now learn your tables.’
‘Rabeyan behan, this buffalo is not like the brown one. Once before also she had called just like this. Nawab Chacha had gone and left her out, but she didn’t become pregnant. This buffalo is barren.’
Shahni got up and thwacked him one. ‘Must you prattle on about everything? Rabeyan, teach him his lessons, and if he makes a mistake, box his ears!’
‘I will recite it, Ma, I will. I know the eight times table. But Nawab Chacha had told Bagga Chacha, “Let us see one more time. If she doesn’t become pregnant this time, we will send her back –”’
Shahni hardened her voice and threatened, ‘Shall I come in?’
‘If you want to beat me, I will come to you, Ma.’
Rabeyan smiled, but pretended to frown. ‘Come on, repeat the table!’
Lali launched into the table:
‘Eight thugs and eight goldsmiths
Eight goldsmiths and eight ironsmiths
Eight fours are thirty-two
A Jaya Khatri mad at you
Crack the Khatri make a Khoja
Khojas are dirty as sticky resin
Khojas are honey-coated poison.’
Kashi Shah came up the stairs. He frowned and said, ‘Lali son, what’s this I hear?’
Lali touched his Chacha Sahib’s feet with alacrity and changed his tune:
‘Allah created the best from His glow
We all are beings of nature
The world is born out of one light
Who is high, and who low?’
‘Very good! Putraji, I should never hear that table of eight again. Do you know why it is forbidden?’
‘Ji! Chachaji, it has bad words for the Khojas. But all the boys at the madarsa recite it.’
‘They too shall be forbidden. You shall never repeat it! Understand?’
‘Ji!’ Lali tied a little knot in his shirt.
‘Barkhurdar, what is that for?’
‘To remind me not to forget what you said.’
‘Hmm.’ Kashi Shah smiled to himself but maintained his stern mien. ‘Where are your brothers, Gurudas and Kesholal?’
Lali was flustered. ‘Chachaji, they both … they went away … they have gone to the beris.’
‘What? Why, what’s there to pluck on the beris these days?’
Lali kept his hand on his mouth and thought for a few moments, then went out and brought a thin cotton stick and put it before Kashi Shah. ‘Chacha Sahib, I was lying. You should hit me on the hands.’
Chacha Sahib inquired, ‘How do I know that you have lied only once since morning?’
When Lali lifted his eyes, Chacha Sahib was pleased at heart. ‘Chachaji, no cheating with you, truly, I lied only once!’
‘Fine, for today you are forgiven. Now, where are your brothers, think hard and tell.’
‘Chacha Sahib, they are playing behind the madarsa.’
‘What are they playing – gulli-danda, gotis or kowris …?’
‘Ji, both of them are playing kowris with the boys of the Northern Quarter.’
‘Hmm.’ Kashi Shah changed the topic. ‘Rabeyan beti, what else has Lali learnt from you? Did you read him something from those books?’
‘Ji, he has learnt the three hidayats.’
Lali eagerly asked, ‘Rabeyan behan, shall I recite?’
‘Yes.’
Kashi Shah sat down patiently on the cot, and Lali stood before him with his arms straight by his side, looked once at Rabeyan, and began:
‘People are the roots and the king, the tree. When old Naushervan saw that his end had come, he said to his son Hurmuz, “Son, protect the fakirs and dervishes with a sincere heart. Worry not about your own comforts. No wise man will appreciate it if the shepherd sleeps while the wolf swallows his sheep. Be vigilant and take good care of the dervishes and the needy. For a badshah is with crown only because of his subjects. The subjects are the roots and the badshah is like a tree, and a tree is strong only because of its roots. My son, as far as possible, do not hurt the people, for if you do so, you will dig your own roots. Son, if you are in need of wise counsel to show you the right way, the path of fakirs and ascetics is always open for you. He who fears suffering for himself, why should he be pleased to see others suffer, and if by his nature he is not so inclined then his realm will never know even a hint of peace and contentment. If you are constrained by laws and rules, try to be happy, and if you are solitary, pure and true, then follow your own path. Do not expect prosperity in a country where the ruler and the ruled are angry with each other. Only he who keeps his people happy and satisfied can dream of a prosperous country. Oppression brings a bad name and ill will. It is not right to destroy one’s people by means of oppression. For it is people who give refuge to their king.”’
Lali bowed his head slightly before Chacha Sahib, and flaring his nostrils, smiled triumphantly at Rabeyan.
‘Well done, barkhurdar! Shabash, Rabi!’
Lali was in high spirits. ‘Chacha Sahib, I have also learnt two hidayats of Amir Humza.’
‘Beta, think carefully and tell me, since you joined the madarsa, how many times have you been beaten in punishment?’
Lali counted on his fingers. ‘Chacha Sahib, I have been thrashed five times. Once I was sucking spiced jaggery
, once I was singing Sakina, once I was teasing fat Gullu, and once Maulviji was taking a nap and brother Gurudas went out to shit and sat me in his place. When Maulviji asked, instead of “Fatiha-khair” I said “Fatiha-khwani!” Instead of “prayer towards the well-being of a living soul”, I said “prayer towards the peace of the departed soul”. That day I got a solid thrashing. Chacha Sahib, Rabi behan secretly smeared ghee and cloves on my back that day. I never told anyone!’
‘Rabeyan beti, is your pupil telling the truth?’
Rabeyan nodded. ‘Ji, Shah Sahib.’
‘Chacha Sahib, shall I recite one more? The title is: A Man Who Builds His Foundation on Force and Oppression is Destroyed by the Same.’
Just then, there were footsteps on the stairs and Shahji entered. Lali went forward and touched his feet. ‘Pitaji, pairipauna!’
A frown appeared on Shahji’s brow. ‘Who is destroyed …? What were you saying?’
‘Ji, I was going to tell a story to Chacha Sahib.’
Rabeyan gestured with her eyes, and Lali promptly pulled forward a stool and said, ‘Please be seated, pitaji.’
But Shahji kept glaring at the boy in silence.
Seeing a frown on Shahji’s face, Lali asked his uncle, ‘Shall I call Gurudas bhai and Kesholal from the madarsa?’
‘No. Let them come back themselves today.’
Lali was worried. ‘Chacha Sahib, they will get a big thrashing today, won’t they?’
‘They certainly will. As one sows, so shall one reap.’
Lali immediately leapt towards the balcony, but came back when his Chachaji called, ‘Where were you going?’
‘Ji, to the madarsa!’
‘No need to go.’
‘Chachaji, if I don’t stop them, they will both go down to the river to collect pebbles. I had also hidden my catapult in the sands. If I don’t go, it will fall into their hands.’
Shahni got up and whacked him one. ‘Be quiet! Goes around being one wise do-gooder, and arguing non-stop! Rabeyan, go to the smaller baithak and make him write dictation.’
Even after Rabeyan had vanished towards the baithak with Lali in tow, Shahji kept looking that way.
Kashi Shah waited for his brother to speak. Then reminded him, ‘The case of the Jal Kariali lands hasn’t reached any conclusion. The date for the next hearing has arrived.’
Shahji was silent in thought. Then he lowered his voice and said, ‘I ran into Aliya at the Jalalpur town square. Rangowal Sultan was with him.’ Shahji lifted his eyes and looked at his brother as though he wanted to say something, but couldn’t. He drew a long breath. ‘God’s play! Our Rabeyan is one in a million, and Sultan advanced in age. Ever since I saw Aliya and Sultan together, my heart has grown heavy. He will certainly come to ask for advice today. I think I –’
Kashiram waited long moments, but Shahji didn’t complete the sentence.
‘– If Aliya comes, bring him into the baithak.’
Both brothers had finished dinner when Aliya arrived.
When his daughter came to offer salaam, Aliya ran a loving hand over her head.
Aliya took up the matter as soon as he was seated. ‘Shah Sahib, Rangowal Sultan has ownership of house and lands. His first wife is dead. If my daughter goes to her own place, I too will be free of this responsibility. Fateh is happy in her home. I only worry for Rabeyan now.’
Chhote Shah spoke, ‘Aliya, Rabeyan beti is not like other girls, she has light in her heart and mind. You are her father, you are free to marry her off where you wish. But not by force. Give it some thought. Rabeyan is like our own daughter. We will do whatever we can …’
‘Shahji, I only thought that Sultan has ease of wealth, property …’
Chhote Shah stopped him short. ‘He may, but consider his age at least. Aliya, do this duty with joy and grace. Your daughter is a pearl. Don’t tear her dreams apart. It shouldn’t be that a maiden has a hundred wishes, and being married, a hundred complications. The girl may not express it in words, but she will certainly feel it.’
Aliya couldn’t find an answer. ‘Ji, Shah Sahib,’ he said, and stood up to leave. ‘I will look elsewhere then. You too keep it in mind, Shahji. See, daughter Kartaro too found a good home.’
Kashi Shah said, ‘Don’t worry, Aliya. Something good will come of this too.’
Shahni came in to give the brothers bowls of hot milk. She closed the doors of the baithak as she went out. Both brothers sat in silence. It was as if Aliya had left something unsaid. The darkness didn’t recede a blink in the flickering lamplight.
A little while later, the two brothers heard the sound of muffled sobs outside the door. Kashi Shah called out, ‘Who? Who is it?’ He got up and opened the door. ‘Rabi beta, you? What’s this, you haven’t slept yet? Do you wish to say something?’
Rabeyan nodded. ‘Ji.’
‘Come inside, Rabi. It is cold outside.’
When Rabeyan crossed the threshold, it were as though she had crossed worlds. She stood there looking first at Shahji, then at Chhote Shah, and covered her streaming eyes with her odhni. Sobbing, she shook her head and said, ‘I am not going anywhere, Shahji! I don’t want to go anywhere.’
‘We have said no to Aliya for Sultan. Have no fear, Rabi!’
Rabeyan took a step and laid her head on the edge of Shahji’s cot. ‘I will die, Shahji, I won’t live without you!’
‘Rabeyan …!’ The tremor in Shahji’s voice shook the walls. ‘Lali is the son of this house. He is like your brother, and you are our …’
Rabeyan sobbed, ‘Don’t say that, Shah Sahib, don’t ever say that. I see you as …’
Dust storms blew in Shahji’s eyes. He looked at his brother and laid a trembling hand on Rabeyan’s head. ‘Don’t hold back anything, Rabi. Speak! Rabeyan, speak … Kashiram, ask her.’
Rabeyan trembled and grew still. She stood up, wiped her eyes, and said in a voice true and pure, ‘Shah Sahib, I have placed you in my heart as devotees do their lord, as bhagat murid their Saain.’
‘What’s this, Rabeyan? Your heart asks the impossible! This is impossible, Rabeyan, impossible … Rabeyan, this will not happen! This will never happen!’
Oblivious of his younger brother’s words, Shahji gazed at Rabeyan and her face, framed in a simple brown odhni, glowed such that the lamp in the nook lost its radiance.
As always, the majlis settled on the cots. When Kashi Shah said the light of the lamp in the niche was insufficient, Mauladadji called out to Nawab, ‘Barkhurdar, bring the candleholder from your baithak. Khairon se, if Chhote Shah is going to read out something, let the letters shine clear before his eyes.’
Jahandadji arrived, bursting with news. ‘Badshaho, there’s been a terrible incident. The entire Gujrat town is buzzing with just one thing – Nadir Hussain, the tehsildar of Shahpur has been murdered.’
The hukkahs abruptly ceased their burbling. ‘Badshaho, what new calamity is this? Our district Shahpur has been running first and foremost in recruitments!’
‘What is running is the Sarkar’s war law. The war fund is like a fine only, isn’t it? Ten rupees fine a field and thirty-three rupees fine per murabba land.’
Mauladadji shook his head. ‘This is too much. It’s a heavy blow to the people.’
Guruditt Singh said, ‘I’ve heard the new orders say that men who do not present themselves for recruitment will be jailed under Sections 107 and 110. Also that the Sarkar will stop the water supply of any Jatt peasant who doesn’t pay the war fund.’
Karm Ilahiji spoke, ‘Actually, the Sarkar has now decided to stop using gentle persuasion. Things have come to such a pass that it is the people who are fighting the Sarkar’s war, but the Sarkar’s spit falls on the people only. Whether it is papers of land, documents of sale-purchase or registries, orders are to extract the war fund first, before all else! Shah Sahib, how long will the Sarkar’s injustices last?’
‘Badshaho, wars and battles are not petty squabbles, are they? These are royal affairs. If they c
ontinue, they can continue for years and years.’
Jahandadji said, ‘There is one more thing. The brave and the battle-eager will join the army any which way, they are not doing the Sarkar any favours. As for the rest, the losses and fines, they too are necessary for governance.’
Muhammadinji started laughing. ‘Why not, Jahandadji, you are a fauji after all! The lessons of the army are most admirable. They are all-out supporters and well-wishers of the Sarkar. The pinch is for the people to feel!’
Fateh Aliji’s mind wandered elsewhere. ‘Badshaho, now the Sarkar is after our revolutionary poet-laureate, Lal Chand “Falaq” from Punjab. Apparently, first the Sarkar offered him one lakh rupees and one hundred murabbas of land in gifts. Lal Chand refused. Losing patience, the Sarkar implicated him in the Delhi bomb incident!’
Chhote Shah spoke, ‘Chaudharyji, two or three persons from Jhelum-Karial were also in jail for this bomb-throwing incident.’
‘The very same, ji, it caused a major ruckus, it did. When Bhai Balmukund was hanged, his wife Bibi Ramrakkhi died of shock. She neither cried nor wailed, just died quietly sitting in her room. Shahji, why is the government persecuting Lal Chand “Falaq”?’
Shahji shook his head. ‘There was another reason. Qaumi poet Lal Chand “Falaq” sang a nazm at some function: Dana-dana Hind ka, Ralli-brother le gaya! “The Ralli brothers have siphoned off every last grain of Hindostan!”’
Karm Ilahiji left his hukkah in agitation. ‘Shahji, what is there worth objecting to in this? Already the Wheat Committee is after our grain. If truth be told, it is as if the country is ours, and the rulers foreign. This is the root of all problems. Otherwise, the poets have always written, and the people have listened. Mohammad Iqbal Sahib of Siyalkot also commands high fame and respect.’
Ganda Singh was inspired. ‘Shahji, you must have also heard this one:
‘Come let us go to our land
To fight for our land
One last commitment
Nation’s call to arms!’
‘Badshaho, our own men in Canada wrote this song!’
Zindaginama Page 47
