by Pran Kishore
Aziz Dyad held Haji Ramzan’s wife in a tight hug.
Mukhta came out with a kangri and isband. Close behind her walked Zeb, escorting Parveen. Razaq came out of the houseboat with a tray. When he saw Parveen advancing towards the houseboat, he moved aside to make way. Parveen was walking listlessly towards the houseboat with her head bowed in resignation. She did not, therefore, notice Razaq there. But when she placed her first step on the stairs, she heard Malla Khaliq calling Razaq.
Parveen stopped in her tracks. She felt as if she were a sacrificial lamb being led to the slaughterhouse. She could not control herself and looked behind towards her father and Razaq. Zeb caught hold of her hand and firmly led her on.
In the drawing room, the two chief ladies were busy talking. Ramzan Haji’s wife was not only a well-off woman, but also a large-hearted, warm lady. She was four times the bulk of Aziz Dyad, and had a pretty round face. She also bore a happy temperament and giggled at everything. The two other ladies with her were her stepdaughters. Both the daughters were already married. Parvez was the only son of Haji Ramzan who would carry on the family business.
When Parveen stepped into the drawing room, both the daughters stood up and made her sit between them. Ramzan Haji’s wife kissed her forehead. Aziz Dyad put a handful of the isband into the embers in the kangri. Qadir spread the dining sheet, and then Razaq came in with a tray of dry fruits and placed it very slowly before Haji Ramzan’s wife. For a fleeting moment, his eyes met Parveen’s. He started and left the room, with Ghulam Qadir following him. Ramzan Haji’s elder daughter took some almonds and pieces of mishri and fed Parveen. Her eyes were brimming with tears. The other daughter noticed it. She removed the smoking kangri and said to Aziz Dyad, ‘The smoke from the isband is watering Parveen’s eyes.’ Mukhta called ‘Razaq, Razaq!’ Hearing the call, Razaq re-entered. ‘Keep this kangri outside.’ With his head hung, he bent forward to lift the kangri. He yearned to exchange one more glance with Parveen, but he couldn’t do it. He took the kangri and left.
Noor Mohammad escorted Rani Ranthambore to the drawing room. He said to Zeb, ‘Let her sit beside Parveen. You should explain every custom to her.’ Aziz Dyad whispered to Haji Ramzan’s wife and the two daughters who this rich lady was.
Parveen shrank to leave enough room for the rani to sit comfortably. And then Haji Ramzan’s daughters started adorning her with gold ornaments. Parveen was still shedding tears. The rani took out a handkerchief from her bag and wiped her tears. Then she looked into Parveen’s face and her eyes moistened. Aziz Dyad could not stop her tears either. Ramzan Haji’s wife raised her spirits, saying, ‘I wish every mother of every daughter this happy occasion. Why do you shed tears? I will house her in my heart.’ Aziz Dyad wiped her tears with her headcloth and smiled. With her eyes cast down, Parveen sat like a cold wall of stone.
When the women finished adorning Parveen with gold ornaments, Ramzan Haji’s wife kissed her forehead and filled her lap with coins of gold. Her daughters also presented the bride-to-be with some gold coins.
The rani turned to Parveen. She touched her chin and looked intently at her face. Then she said, ‘My friend looks like a fairy descended from the sky.’ Looking around at everyone, the rani continued, ‘Perhaps you are amazed that I called her my friend. You may ask her if she accepts to be my friend or not. You adorned her today the same way she adorned me once with a Kashmiri phiran and silver ornaments. From that very day, we decided to be friends, isn’t it so, Parveen?’ Parveen replied with a nod. The rani then looked towards Haji Ramzan’s wife and said, ‘Your son is really lucky to get such a princess as his bride.’
Haji Ramzan’s wife smiled and said, ‘And our Parvez Lala also is no less handsome than a prince.’
Zeb explained to the rani what had been said in the vernacular. ‘So obviously all your grandsons and granddaughters, too, will be pretty.’ Everyone laughed and Haji Ramzan’s wife uttered ‘insha-allah’.
Razaq came in again with a tasht and naer. He helped all of them wash their hands one by one, but when he was near Parveen, Zeb got worried. She quickly took the ewer and the flask from Razaq’s hands and said to him, ‘You go help Qadir Sahib with the plates.’ Razaq felt as though he had escaped from the gallows.
Malla Khaliq was strolling nervously on the isle. Noor Mohammad perceived his restlessness and went near him. ‘Why are you so worried? We are not failing in any way in entertaining the guests.’
‘I am not worried about that. You know we have brought up Parveen with so much of love and care, and see now she is going to be separated from us. This is the ache that I bear as a stone in my bosom.’
Noor Mohammad heaved a deep sigh. ‘How can we help that? This is God’s rule, and we all have been following it since time immemorial.’
Malla Khaliq sat in a chair and looked towards the sky muttered.
A full moon shone behind the summits of the Zabarwan mountains and gleamed through the clouds. Razaq had finished washing all the utensils and was keeping them in the basket when he caught sight of Malla Khaliq. Razaq quickly followed him. Hearing the rustle of dry leaves, Malla Khaliq stopped and turned to him.
‘Razaq! I didn’t see you there. Is all well?’
Razaq did not say a word. He had resolved to reveal the malaise of his heart to Malla Khaliq, but he felt bereft of all expression when he came face-to-face with him. Malla Khaliq repeated his question, ‘Tell me, my dear son. Why are you so morose?’
Razaq still could not get the words out.
‘What is it? Has anybody been rude to you?’
Razaq stammered, ‘No … nothing.’
Malla Khaliq said, ‘Go in, my son, and eat something. You have been so busy the whole day, and obviously must be quite tired. Then get some sleep.’
Razaq cast a glum look at him and then left for his shed. Having entered the shed, he opened the window, sat on the wooden box, and gazed at the Zabarwan mountain. The moon looked helpless in the snare of the quivering branches of the willows. He heaved a deep sigh and stood up. He squatted on the rush mat, opened the notebook that lay there with the pen in it as a mark, and began writing a letter to Malla Khaliq.
‘My gracious master, you asked me what ailed me. In fact, I was eager to give voice to my hidden sickness, but in spite of all my attempts, I dithered as words failed me. Thus I am writing this letter to you. To be honest with you, Parveen Lala and I have been very close to each other and have been dreaming of creating a world of our own. She is not happy with the relation that you—’ His pen stopped there abruptly. His heart shuddered. He felt as if some stranger had emerged from his soul and hurled him from a daunting height while reprimanding him saying, ‘Why are you so crazy? Why do you aspire to capture the shining stars in the sky with your airy ropes? You are a pauper, surviving on the leftovers of Haji Sahib’s house! If this letter reaches Malla Khaliq or his sons, they will chop you into pieces. Not only you, but also Parveen.’ Razaq let out an involuntary yell, ‘Oh my God! What should I do? If I do not express myself, Parveen will be but a living corpse.’ His inner voice emerged again. ‘Time will heal her. Did you not notice how Haji Ramzan’s wife and daughters showered Parveen with love? Do you fail to understand what a prestigious, honourable family she is being wedded into? And what have you to offer her? You cannot even provide her with clothes to wear. She is about to have all her desires fulfilled and here you are, trying to dishonour her family and make her the scapegoat! Is this what you do to someone you love?’ With an uncontrollable shudder, he ripped the leaf off the notebook, and tore it into pieces. Then he stretched himself on the bed.
The moon seemed to be drifting in and out of the criss-cross of willow branches. He continued gazing at it. The whole world was shrouded in darkness. Time seemed to be standing still. He heard a boatman singing an amorous song in the distance.
Mooh maetch wata myani zan maeshiravakh
Yaad pemai thari thawakh kyah.
Shahar treavith potvan te pravakh,
Yaad pemai thari thawakh kyah
(Oh my pleasure-seeking love,
You might forget the paths to me
Howsoever you try
You cannot help but remember me.
You might be in a city
Or dwelling in some hinterland but
You cannot help but remember me)
At the same hour, in her room, Parveen felt a restlessness seize her. She was seized by a mad desire to run to Razaq, rip away all her clothes and surrender her body to him before any other man could touch her. Every word of the boatman’s song pierced her like an arrow.
The boatman was now very close to the houseboat. He continued singing. With every stroke of the oar, he called out to the separated lovers:
Yti bani tati kanh divtah samikhi,
Ta khoni lalanaavi sonzlove maenz,
Atha saet vache tani mutchrivi,
Yaad pemai thari thawakh kyah
(This too is likely that you meet some God
Who shall lull you through bright rainbows.
And when he starts unbuttoning you and
Suddenly you are reminded of my touch
Then what shall you do …)
Every particle of Parveen’s body simmered. She stood up, opened the window and looked around. Razaq’s shed was distinctly visible in the moonlight. The window of the shed was open. She imagined if Razaq was sitting at the sill, staring towards her window in the dark. She could not hold herself back any more. She opened the door and sneaked behind the house. The boatman’s song had faded away. Razaq saw her coming towards him. He was perplexed, and opened the door to come out. But Parveen pushed him in, went in and slammed the door behind her. She wrapped him in a tight hug. Razaq’s eyes were drowned in darkness. He could not decide what to do. Parveen was glued to his body, and he quivered like a helpless pigeon. Then Razaq’s love also surged forth. It was a sweet feeling, a virgin sap that pervaded every bit of their bodies making them oblivious to the world outside. Razaq finally took her in his arms and held her close to his chest. Parveen raised her eyes to his face and then closed her eyes in prayer: ‘Oh, that I could breathe my last in this blissful moment. Oh that I could attain freedom while remaining captive in your arms!’
Razaq woke with a start. He freed himself from Parveen’s clasp and turned his back to her. He started cursing himself, ‘What have I done! Oh, I should not have lost my senses!’
Parveen held his shoulders and made him turn towards her. She said to him, ‘Look into my eyes.’
Razaq gave her a shove and said angrily, ‘You please leave before doom befalls us. For God’s sake, leave.’
Parveen nestled closer to him and said, ‘Razaq, there is still time. You take me away from here to some other place. If you don’t, you will repent it forever.’ Razaq held her wrist and dragged her towards the door. Trying to free herself from his grip, Parveen said, ‘Let me go.’
Razaq let go of her and, folding both his hands, implored, ‘For God’s sake, do not be crazy. Our love is as hallowed as the morning dew on the leaves of lotuses. This love shall stay in my heart. Do not desecrate it.’
Parveen was about to speak when they heard the sound of something falling down in the swamps. It was perhaps an owl that had swooped into some nest. Parveen got scared. She cast an angry look at Razaq and ran out. Before getting out of sight, she jeered Razaq for his cowardice. ‘You are a spineless fellow, a coward!’
Razaq stood still, like a mound of clay. After a while, he moved towards the window and peeped out. Parveen had reached her room. Razaq remained gazing till she climbed over the sill and went into her room.
Malla Khaliq returned from Makhdoom Sahib’s shrine earlier than usual. It was decided that soon after the engagement of Parveen, Noor Mohammad and his wife would go make arrangements at Nisar Ahmed’s new house. He did not therefore have his second cup of tea, as he usually did. Aziz Dyad knew what saddened her husband, and she asked him, ‘Why do you get up? You did not even empty your cup.’ Malla Khaliq replied in a vexed tone, ‘I do not feel the need to have more, why should I force myself?’ Then he went out of the room. Aziz Dyad looked towards Zeb who was sorting kale leaves. She heaved a long sigh and said, ‘Your Abba is not well, I guess. Our guardian saint should come to our rescue or I am afraid he is going to give up.’
‘He is possessive of his dear Parveen, and thinks that she is here now only as a guest for a few days,’ said Zeb, trying to console her.
But only Aziz Dyad knew what anxiety was gnawing away at his heart. ‘My dear daughter,’ she said, ‘your Abba knows better than anybody else that a daughter is finally to be wedded off. What ails him now is that Noor Mohammad, his best support, is to leave home along with his son.’
Zeb tried to lift Aziz Dyad’s spirits. ‘But Noor Bhaijaan is not going to stay there forever. His son will get married and then he will return.’
‘God only knows when all this is going to happen, if at all it does. Ghulam Qadir must have finished his morning bath; go serve him tea in his room.’
Zeb took the small samovar and went to her room. When she was going out, Aziz Dyad said to her, ‘Wake up Parveen also. Tell her to get up and help you in removing the things strewn yesterday.’
The previous night had been a long painful night for Parveen. She remained sitting still near the windowsill. She shuddered when Zeb opened the door. Zeb sensed something amiss and asked, ‘Are you all right?’
Parveen heaved a deep sigh and said, ‘What is there to say now? Everything has ended – everything.’
‘Nothing has ended. You should thank God that no one in the family knows your secret. Think what muck would have besmeared Abba’s cap if your secret were to be out. Such vain infatuations are nothing but dreams that like the will-o’-the-wisp which comes in your way to waylay you. Now accept what destiny offers you. Think of Abba’s honour, if nothing else.’
Parveen’s eyes spilled over with a gush of pained tears. Zeb too wiped her tears. ‘Amma is waiting for you with tea. Then you must help me with some chores.’
Noor Mohammad sat in a corner of his room and gazed at Mukhta. She looked at her husband and said, ‘Nothing can come out of this brooding. Now at least help me in folding your clothes so I can put them into the trunk.’
Noor Mohammad was angry with himself. He said, ‘Am I to leave this house with all my clothes? I have already put one set of night clothes in the bag, and the rest of the clothes I will put on. Tomorrow I will come back and change. Now hurry up and do not plague me further.’
Hearing this, Mukhta banged the lid of the trunk shut. ‘You behave as if we are being taken away to be put in a cell. If Nisar Sahib finds you in this huff, he will surely run back to Jaipur. Do you want that?’
Noor Mohammad felt helpless. He stood up, opened the almirah and started taking out his clothes.
Malla Khaliq finished the morning survey of Gul. From there he phoned Narayan Joo, but his manager informed him that he had left with tickets for Raja Rathinder Singh. He therefore went out and sat down on the ghat to wait for him. Aziz Dyad found him there. ‘Why are you sitting all alone over here? Don’t you want to eat something?’
‘Didn’t I tell you that I am not hungry?’ Malla Khaliq replied, without even turning to look at her.
‘All right. If you do not want to eat anything, don’t, but tell me what this hide-and-seek is all about.’
‘I am not playing hide-and-seek. I am waiting for Narayan Joo to come. You know Rathinder Singh is to leave tomorrow.’
‘You could give him a ring; what will you gain by sitting here so sullenly?’
‘That much intelligence I also have. He has left his house to bring the tickets here. That is why I am sitting here waiting for him. Do you understand?’
‘Why do you get so irritated for nothing? Noor Mohammad was sincere in telling you that he wished to stay here. Why didn’t you agree with him?’
‘For God’s sake, forgive me now. Go in. Narayan Joo is about to reach. I will have to
listen to his lecture too.’
Not wanting to argue further, Aziz Dyad turned round and walked towards the pantry.
Narayan Joo’s shikaarah was anchored, and he alighted on the bank in one jump. He said to his friend with an affable smile, ‘Did you see my agility, Haji Sahib?’ Malla Khaliq did not reply. Narayan Joo moved closer to him and said, ‘Why is our Haji Sahib brooding?’
‘How can I tell you? You know Nisar Ahmed is going to leave this house today and live on land.’
Laying his hand on Malla Khaliq’s shoulder, Narayan Joo said with warm affection, ‘Oh, this is the cause! You yourself were so keen to see Nisar Ahmed complete his education. Now when he has, he is not going to sit on your knees. Haji Sahib, why don’t you understand the pace of the times? You see—’
Without letting him continue, Malla Khaliq shoved Narayan Joo’s hand away from his shoulder and climbed up the steps to the isle. ‘It is easy to lecture,’ he said. ‘But only the suffering person knows his pangs.’
‘I do not mean to lecture you, I want to tell you the truth. Do you think that I do not feel your pain? But this idle pining will not benefit you. And Nisar Ahmed is not going to any foreign country. Moreover, Noor Mohammad will keep visiting you every morning. How does it matter whether he sleeps here or there?’