by Pran Kishore
Malla Khaliq was rolling his prayer mat when Aziz Dyad came in hurriedly. ‘Please take out the small boat and get the doctor. Zeb is burning with fever. Even covered with two quilts, she shivers as if she is in a tub of ice.’
‘Oh God! Mercy!’ Malla Khaliq placed the prayer mat in the almirah and wasted no time in going to fetch the small boat.
Meanwhile, Noor Mohammad had summoned Qadir to his room and was reproaching him. Qadir put forth all manner of excuses to defend himself. Noor Mohammad lost his temper, shut the door, and said, ‘Do you never feel any shame at telling all these lies? My wife and I heard every word you uttered in your room. My wife was about to barge into your room, but I did not deem it proper…’
‘But she drives me mad. She does not trust even a word of mine. What she wants is for me to abjure my business and sit brooding near her all the time.’
‘Didn’t you feel any pity for her? She sat helpless like a beggar on the stairs in torrential rain!’
‘If you really saw her sitting in the downpour, then you must also have noticed how I carried her inside in my arms.’ Qadir pleaded innocence but Noor Mohammad knew where the real problem lay. ‘If Abba comes to know the real cause of your conflict …’ Qadir was enraged and he stood up to leave. Before going out he said, ‘I fail to understand why everyone is against me. Why no one advises Zeb.’ Having said this, he entered his room where he found all the members of his family assembled around Zeb.
Sitting near her pillow, Parveen was applying a wet cloth to her forehead, and Mukhta was rubbing her soles. Bilal stood nonplussed in a corner. Aziz Dyad came with a tumbler of hot water and told Zeb, ‘Drink this hot water, my child. It will relieve you of cold. The doctor too has advised so. Your Abba must be coming back from the market with the medicine.’ She held Zeb’s head in her lap and made her sip the water. In the meantime Malla Khaliq returned. ‘Did you get the medicine?’ asked Aziz Dyad.
‘No, I sent Noor Mohammad to fetch a taxi.’
The glass of water dropped from her hand. ‘Oh my God, but why?’
Malla Khaliq consoled her. ‘There is no need to be so alarmed. Doctor’s advised that we should get her admitted to the hospital. She will get better treatment there. All the tests too shall be done there.’ He went near Zeb and said to her, ‘You need not worry.’ Turning to his wife he said, ‘Help her walk to the ghat. Meanwhile I shall unanchor the boat to ferry her across to the Boulevard, where Noor Mohammad will be waiting with a taxi.’ Saying this he left the room. Qadir extended his hands to help Zeb get up from the bed, but Zeb pushed his hands away. This angered Qadir and he said to his mother, ‘You see, I have never seen such a stubborn woman!’
Zoon, Noor Mohammad’s wife, was already in a bad temper, and she yelled at Qadir. ‘See how unabashed is he! You shameless man, how many women have you seen that you compare her with them?’
Qadir turned and walked away without saying anything. Zoon and Parveen assisted Zeb to the ghat. Malla Khaliq and Ghulam Ahmed were already there. Qadir, with his head hung low, sat on the prow of the boat.
Aziz Dyad held Zeb clasped to her breast and the boatman moved the boat towards the Boulevard. Razaq also stood near the ghat. Malla Khaliq said to him, ‘Keep a watch.’
‘Yes, sir,’ said Razaq. When the boat drifted away, Razaq returned to the isle.
Jane was also looking out through the window of her houseboat. She called out to Razaq and asked him, ‘What happened?’
‘Ill, she very ill, taking hospital …’ Razaq tried to communicate to her what had happened.
While he babbled these words, Parveen, flaring up with anger, shouted at him. ‘What are you doing there?’ She cast a furious glance at Jane. ‘Come, let us go. Damn her! If I find you whiling away your time talking to her, I won’t spare you!’
Like a mouse smoked out of its hole, Razaq fled to the wooden shed that Malla Khaliq had erected for him on the isle behind the houseboats. Parveen watched him till he was out of sight. She had somehow sensed that Jane was trying to keep Razaq near her while Qadir was not available. She feared that Jane might entice Razaq, too, as she had Qadir. Razaq was no less handsome than the great Hazrat Yousuf. Taller than Qadir, he had striking features. Parveen blushed when she suddenly realized that these days Razaq was always on her mind. But poor Razaq was oblivious to it all. He did not dare raise his eyes in her direction.
The senior doctor at the Drogjan Hospital said, ‘Haji Sahib, you must be thankful to God. She would have contracted double pneumonia if you had not got her here in time. Now there is no need to worry, she can go home after a couple of days.’
Malla Khaliq said to Noor Mohammad, ‘Narayan Joo has asked me to see him at his house, but I don’t think it proper to leave Zeb here. Could you please go there on my behalf? He will take you to the bank; he knows what to do.’
Noor Mohammad looked at his mother who was sitting on a stool near Zeb’s bed. With a nod she approved of what Malla Khaliq had said. Malla Khaliq took out a letter from his pocket. ‘Take this with you. Go, my son.’ When Noor Mohammad left, Qadir moved close to his father and said hesitantly, ‘You too may leave for home, I am here.’ Hearing this, Malla Khaliq’s forehead wrinkled up in anger. He nevertheless said, ‘No, you should leave instead, you have your customer waiting there in the boat. Razaq is not trained enough to attend to customers. By God’s grace all will be well.’ Qadir was waiting for this consent from his father and left as if in compliance to his order. He felt a sense of relief because he was worried about the bag which Jane had given him to hide. This was the bag she had received from the hippies, full of drugs.
Qadir was about to step onto the prow of Gulshan, when he heard the sound of a motorboat. He stopped and looked back. It was Karmakar, a Bombay-based broker. He came to Kashmir to buy carpets, but under this cover managed the transactions of drug smugglers. He had dealings with Jane too. Karmakar’s presence helped Qadir make Malla Khaliq and Noor Mohammad believe that Jane, too, frequented Kashmir to procure carpets for export to other countries and Karmakar was her agent.
As soon as Karmakar’s motorboat stopped near the landing of Gulshan, Qadir went down to greet him. Karmakar lifted the rolled carpet lying in the boat and, holding Qadir’s hand, entered the houseboat. After a while he came out carrying a brown bag in his hand instead of the carpet. Qadir escorted him to the ghat. After shaking hands with Qadir, he sat in the motorboat which took a sharp turn towards the rear of the lake. Qadir did not waste any time in re-entering Gulshan, where he found Jane taking money out of the bag that Karmakar had brought wrapped up in the carpet and counting it.
‘Keep it under the bed,’ she told Qadir, zipping up the bag.
While Qadir was taking the bag from Jane, Razaq appeared with a coffee tray. ‘Memsahib, coffee!’ he said timidly. He cautiously placed the tray on the table, but Qadir lashed out at Razaq like a rabid dog. ‘You ill-mannered cur! How dare you enter without seeking permission? Did you want to check what we were doing here?’
‘But, sir, it was your order that I should get her coffee at four o’clock.’
‘How impudent you are! You, a brother-in-law of dogs!’
The blood in Razaq’s veins boiled and he said in a defiant tone, ‘Sir, do not hurl such names at me!’
Catching hold of Razaq’s throat, Qadir dragged him out and threw him on to the isle. Razaq was about to say something in protest, but Qadir gripped his throat again. ‘Keep quiet, you bastard! You should know that Qadir uses his tongue just once, then it his knife that talks. Understand? You are always around prying.’ He started kicking him.
Seeing this from her boat, Jane rushed out to intervene. Parveen, who saw the scene from the pantry, also came running. But when she saw Jane holding Qadir’s hand and taking him to the houseboat, she stopped. She did not think it proper to go near Razaq even though she felt pity for him. She continued gazing at him. Razaq dusted his clothes and cast a fierce glance towards Qadir’s houseboat. He wanted to re-enter the housebo
at, drag Qadir out and let him know that he was much stronger than him. It was his respect for Malla Khaliq that held him back. Parveen walked quickly to catch up with Razaq and when he raised his eyes, she saw the tears in his eyes. Without saying a word, he entered his shed and bolted the door.
Parveen was seized by a strong desire to walk into the shack and wipe his tears, but she did not have the courage. After all, he was the servant boy. For a little while she stood outside the door and then returned to the pantry.
In the houseboat, Qadir was still enraged. He was busy removing the planks from the basement store of the houseboat. Jane coyly tidied his dishevelled hair to calm him down. ‘Relax, Qadir, enough now.’ Then she told him that it was necessary to maintain calmness and a steady mind in the business they pursued. The key to success lay in keeping a smile pasted on one’s lips while talking to others. That was the way to remain free from suspicion.
Qadir hid the bag in the drawers of the space under the floor, stood up and held Jane in an embrace. Jane was quite adept in seducing men, and each of them believed that he alone was the fortunate person to win her love. While she held Qadir, she imagined that it was Razaq she was holding. Her desire for Razaq had gained in intensity since the time she had seen him swimming naked in the Dal while she sat at the deck of the houseboat. She felt he was no less charming than Zeus, particularly when he rose from the water after swimming and started getting dressed. Then she released herself from Qadir’s embrace, saying that somebody was coming. Qadir let her go and went out of the room.
Parveen was sitting on the steps of the ghat having finished her work in the pantry. She was, in fact, waiting for her father to return so she could narrate the whole incident to him. Seeing her there, Qadir went near her and said, ‘What are you doing here?’
‘Waiting for Abba,’ she said.
‘He need not be shown his way home, does he?’
Parveen cast an angry look at him. He quivered with the fear that she might have seen him hugging Jane. So he changed the topic. ‘I mean to say that if Abba …’
But Parveen did not let him complete his sentence and dashed to the pantry again. Now he was convinced that she had seen everything and was eager to report to Abba. He turned back and sat down on the steps of the houseboat.
Seeing Qadir move away, Parveen came out of the barge and sneaked to Razaq’s shed. She raised her hand to knock at the door but failed in her courage. She propped herself against a wall of wooden planks. She surveyed the wall from top to bottom and detected a rent, a little above her height. She stood on tiptoe and peeped inside. Razaq was filling his bag with books and a bag of clothes was already packed. Parveen felt her legs tremble and her heart sink. She stood transfixed for a moment. She might have stayed there like that had Malla Khaliq’s call not alerted her.
‘Parveen, where are you?’
Shielding herself by the willow tree, she walked quietly and went and stood before her father near the barge. He bore a plastic bag in his hands. Seeing Parveen coming from behind him, he asked her, ‘Where are you coming from?’
‘It was Gil, Malla Subhan’s daughter. She had come to ask after Zeb’s health.’ In order to divert his attention, she asked, ‘What are you carrying in that bag?’
‘Oh, I had ordered a uniform for Razaq. We are expecting a big officer and his family from Bombay – it wouldn’t look nice if Razaq appeared in tattered clothes to serve them. Open it and see if it will suit him.’
Parveen took the bag from her father and entered the barge again. Malla Khaliq was sharp enough to guess that something untoward had happened; otherwise she would have opened the bag then and there. He followed her into the barge. The moment he stepped into the pantry, she asked him, ‘Tea is already boiling, shall I pour out a cup for you?’
‘First tell me what the matter is. You are wont to frisk all my pockets when I return home. Why didn’t you open the bag today? It might contain something for my daughter, too.’ Saying this Malla Khaliq sat down and stretched his hand towards Parveen and said, ‘First get that bag here. Then we shall have tea.’
Parveen had no other excuse to keep from telling him. Handing the bag to him, she said, ‘Abba, I think you will have to go back to the tailor and make alterations to the size.’
‘What do you mean?’ Malla Khaliq asked. Parveen revealed all that had happened there earlier. The bag fell from Malla Khaliq’s hand. ‘Qadir was about to kill the poor chap then and there, but it was Jane who came out running and almost dragged him back into the houseboat,’ she said.
‘Where is Razaq now?’
‘He must be in his room. I don’t think he will stay here after such humiliation.’
Malla Khaliq stood up, took the uniform out of the bag and went to Razaq’s room. He also thought of teaching Qadir a lesson, but he did not deem it proper to insult him in Jane’s presence. He knocked at the door of the shack. Razaq opened the door and, seeing Malla Khaliq in front of him, he said, ‘Sir, in fact, I was waiting for you.’
‘Why? Are you all right?’ Malla Khaliq asked him, feigning ignorance.
‘I request you to kindly let me go. It is enough now, I have already had enough food at this place. If I have unwittingly committed any mistake, I request you to forgive me,’ he said and proceeded to lift his bag of books and the pouch of clothes.
Holding him by the arm, Malla Khaliq said to him, ‘But is it proper that a father should let his son leave like this? Keep this bag down. What has happened to you? Look, my son, Parveen has already narrated the whole incident to me. This Ghulam Qadir … he is, in fact, very worried about his wife’s health. That is why he loses his temper so easily. Otherwise he is not so harsh.’
Razaq said in reply, ‘No, sir, please forgive me for saying so, but it’s not just him; others in the family are not polite to me either.’
Malla Khaliq sat down beside him and, keeping his hand affectionately on his shoulder, said, ‘Am I not polite to you? Noor Mohammad is always all praises for you. And my wife is fonder of you than her own children.’
‘Yes, sir, I know that. But the person I am attached to is not like that. He is constantly rude to me, calls me names while ordering me to sit or stand … how can I pass my days here?’
Hearing this Malla Khaliq stood up and said, ‘Let me see who insults you any more. You watch how this small world of ours shall prosper from tomorrow and, with that, you shall too. Everyone will be engrossed in his or her work and no one will have time to waste in such idle things. A big party is expected soon from Bombay, and I have decided that you alone shall be in charge of catering to them, that too in my houseboat Gul. We will have someone else assist Ghulam Qadir. Are you happy now?’
Parveen was keeping a constant vigil over the wooden shed. When she sensed that it was taking her father longer than expected, she stealthily walked behind the willow trees and reached the shed. She stood against the same wooden plank and peeped in. She saw Razaq with his head drooped, visibly cooled down.
While listening to Malla Khaliq, Razaq thought it would not be easy for him to find another good job. Also in his heart of hearts he had felt that even if no one else in the family bothered about him, Parveen would still care for him. Had it not been so, why would she report Qadir to her father?
Razaq raised his eyes to Malla Khaliq and said, ‘Sir, whenever I see you, I am reminded of my own father. I remember how dearly he loved me while my mother lived. But when he remarried after my mother’s death, he was under the spell of his new wife. He started believing all the lies she told him and would keep thrashing me. I got fed up one day and fled from my home and school.’ He gasped for breath. Tears rolled down his cheeks and he fell at Malla Khaliq’s feet. ‘Please forgive me. I caused you so much worry.’
Malla Khaliq pulled him up and held him in his arms. ‘My dear son, I am here with you. I will make sure that everyone treats you well. If you are interested in studies, I will get you books. But please persevere.’
Saying this Malla Khali
q picked up the attendant’s uniform. ‘Take it and see if it is your size. Don’t be shy, put it on. I know you really wanted to wear this uniform. There is a belt, too, in the bag, a red belt with golden embroidery. See if the coat fits you.’
Razaq forgot everything on seeing the uniform. He had once seen Malla Subhan’s son wearing a similar uniform when he appeared on the deck of the houseboat, Queen Margaret, far out near the shore, feeding the aged Mem who stayed there even during winters. The snow-white uniform and the red belt with golden embroidery had dazzled in the spring sun. Having seen this, he had asked Malla Khaliq when he would be fit for wearing a uniform such as that one. Now, holding this uniform in his hands, he felt as if he owned all the wealth in the world.
Parveen quietly watched all this and felt relieved that Razaq would not leave. She went capering to the barge as if her entire being was filled with a strange ecstasy. Malla Khaliq made Razaq wear the outfit of a houseboat butler and then, casting a joyful glance at him from head to toe, he said, ‘Malla Subhan’s son is no match for you, I am sure. Now you should try the pants also. Remember to wear this uniform when the tourists arrive the day after tomorrow. In Malla Khaliq’s houseboats, the butlers have never served the guests without wearing a uniform. I shall get you another set soon and I should never find your uniform dirty. Do you understand?’
‘Yes, sir.’
‘Now relax.’ Saying this, Malla Khaliq left and was soon in the pantry again. Parveen was waiting there for him with a steaming samovar of tea. Entering the pantry he told her, ‘He was really about to leave!’
Parveen asked, ‘And now?’
‘What now? Your Abba was by no means ready to let this gentle, wise and honest boy go away.’ Taking the cup of tea from her, he said in a tone of great accomplishment, ‘Now there is only one more task to be done and that is to find another assistant for Qadir.’