by Pran Kishore
After having his tea, Malla Khaliq came out to the isle. Ghulam Ahmed came near him and said, ‘So, Abba, I am leaving now. I will be home in three or four days. Zoon will stay here. Let me make the necessary arrangements there and then I will be back.’
Malla Khaliq placed his hand on his shoulder and said, ‘You may go. God will look after you. I know it is a good time to do some business there. You need not worry about us. We will manage. And there is hardly any work to attend to here now. The houseboats are vacant. Go now, my dear. Make haste or you might miss the bus.’
‘I will come back within a couple of days. By then it will almost be time for Parveen to return from her in-laws’.’
Then, having looked all around, he said to his father, ‘Abba, I have not seen Razaq since morning.’
‘He hadn’t visited his home for a long time. I sent him on leave,’ Malla Khaliq calmly replied and immediately turned towards houseboat Gulshan so that his face wouldn’t give him away.
Malla Khaliq was losing his temper over every trivial issue. He was anxious because the houseboats were empty. And then, he missed Parveen a lot. But Razaq’s disappearing like a thief was what vexed him most. Two days had passed since Parveen’s marriage. Everyone in the family had gotten busy with their usual work. He alone remained moving about restlessly.
Today he had resolved to come out of his misery. Sitting against the windowsill of the pantry, he glanced towards the flower bed in front of Gulfam, that Razaq had tended to and nurtured. The bed was replete with autumnal flowers. Razaq had got the tubers of dahlia flowers from the chief gardener at the Emporium Garden two years ago. Each dahlia was about one foot in diameter. A few plants were about to give way under the weight of the large flowers. He stood up, took out a ball of jute thread and went out on the isle.
Just then, Bilal came running and started tugging at Malla Khaliq’s phiran. Then he ran and stood aside to see if his grandfather was going to pick him up in his arms. But Malla Khaliq was still lost in thought and did not look at the boy. Bilal ran and held his hand that was busy tying the largest dahlia plant to its supporting stick. Malla Khaliq angrily called out to Zeb as he shooed the child away. ‘Zeb ! Zeb! Please take this imp away.’
Zeb came running and dragged the child away, but the child was being obstinate. Malla Khaliq got all the more agitated,
‘Why don’t you take him away? See what a mess he has made here in this flower bed. He is always running after me like a chimpanzee …’
Hearing this clamour, Aziz Dyad came out and shouted at her husband. ‘That spoiled darling of yours has run away and you get angry with this innocent child, who is your life and soul! I wonder why you have been behaving like a ferocious dog since that damned Razaq disappeared.’
Malla Khaliq felt mortified. He went to Zeb.
‘My daughter, forgive me. I have been telling all of you that I have sent Razaq on vacation. That is a lie for I don’t know where he is, why he left, or when he is to return.’
Zeb, wiping Bilal’s tears, said to her father-in-law, ‘Abba, he will not come back here.’
‘What do you mean?’ Malla Khaliq turned pale.
Zeb replied, ‘Razaq is not going to come back to this place. It’s good he left unharmed.’
‘This means that my fear was not unfounded. I know it is Qadir who made him run away. He despised him for Razaq was a hurdle in his nefarious activities.’
‘Please don’t blame poor Qadir for this. He doesn’t even have an inkling that Razaq has run away.’
‘Then? What happened to him? You are hiding something from me. Tell me honestly, why did Razaq run away?’
Zeb took Bilal in her arms and ran to her room. Malla Khaliq was flummoxed. He turned to his wife who also looked amazed. She went to Zeb’s room. ‘Why didn’t you tell your Abba why Razaq ran away?’
Aziz Dyad asked her again, ‘You know something that we don’t. What is it?’
‘Razaq and Parveen were dreaming of getting married. It is good that he has run away, else he would have certainly brought the family a bad name.’
Aziz Dyad could not believe what Zeb had just said. ‘Why are you blaming my innocent daughter? Can you imagine what would happen if your Abba came to know about this?’
‘You know well that I am not one to talk about people behind their backs. How can I blame anyone, particularly Parveen, who is dearer to me than my real sister?’
‘How do you know all this?’
‘Parveen herself told me. She implored me that I plead with Abba because he holds Razaq dear.’
‘Oh, what a thunderbolt there was in the offing!’
‘I would have taken the secret with me to my grave—’
‘So we have been wearing a dirty shoe on our head in place of a cap! And your Abba was too gullible to realize this.’
Zeb fell at Aziz Dyad’s feet and begged her not to tell Malla Khaliq. But Aziz Dyad said to her, ‘Why should I not let him know? Let him know the malintent of that pampered mongrel.’
‘But, Amma, one behaves recklessly when young. Besides, I must tell you that Razaq wasn’t evil in any way. He would sacrifice his life for this family, especially for Abba.’
‘He pretended to be good.’
‘No, Amma, I tested him in all possible ways. Do you remember how he kept the secret of Jane and Qadir to himself? He had seen everything, but he never uttered a word. He ran away after seeing to it that all the work for the wedding was done perfectly. He did not even take six months’ salary.’
‘That is true. Had our own daughter not displayed weakness, how could he, a stranger, dare cast his eye on her?’
Aziz Dyad could not keep herself from telling her husband. Malla Khaliq stood staring at her, dumbstruck.
‘Why don’t you say something?’
Malla Khaliq heaved a deep sigh. ‘That is why Razaq looked so downcast for the last so many days.’
‘No. A thunderbolt had struck him. If he had crossed the line, people would have stoned us to death. It was Zeb who kept them under the veil and held Parveen back. I too had sensed that she was disturbed. Then I thought that the idea of leaving us was upsetting her.’
Malla Khaliq took out a pack of cigarettes from his pocket and turned to his wife. ‘If you had sensed it, why didn’t you tell me? Oh, if only Parveen had told me!’
Aziz Dyad’s eyes shone bright as if burning like hot embers. ‘What would you have done then? Would you have gotten your daughter married to that worthless urchin?’
‘He was not a worthless waif. He belonged to a good family. And he had had schooling up to tenth class. If he had continued his studies, he would surely have been worthy of our family one day.’
Aziz Dyad could hardly believe what she was hearing. ‘Oh my Dastagir! What foul ideas fill his brain! If you talk like that in the presence of our family, they will consider you insane.’ She was furious. She stood up, brought a matchbox and flung it towards Malla Khaliq. ‘Now smoke a cigarette, it may help you think properly. God knows what spell that waif cast on you!’
Malla Khaliq threw the cigarette aside and went out of the room saying, ‘Do not subject poor Zeb to any inquisition, I warn you.’
Taking long and quick strides, Malla Khaliq reached Razaq’s shed; the door was ajar. He went in and started rummaging through everything there. He emptied Razaq’s trunk, but found nothing there.
Zeb was happy that Qadir had been returning home earlier than usual of late and had been helping Malla Khaliq with errands. Malla Khaliq also began to feel that Qadir had perhaps begun to repent. But what he did not know was that on some pretext or the other, Qadir used to phone all his friends from the inner bedroom in Gulshan, especially Gul Beg.
Even tonight Qadir was home early. Zeb, having put Bilal to sleep, nestled close to him. Qadir seemed to respond passionately to her advances. Finally she placed her head on his chest and fell asleep. Qadir looked intently at her face, then carefully placed her head on the pillow and wriggled out. He took o
ut a cigarette and smoked near the window. Staring into the darkness all around, he remembered what Gul Beg had told him on the phone. He resolved to go to Delhi on the excuse of attending a friend’s wedding at Pulwama.
The next morning he sought Malla Khaliq’s permission. Then he went to Zeb and gave her some money for day-to-day expenses. He said to her, ‘You need not worry. I don’t know exactly how many days Jan Mohammad’s wedding ceremony will take. I may stay there for a week or so.’
Six days went by, yet there was no sign of Qadir’s return. The tourist season had once again disappointed, because of the landslides and the turmoil in Punjab. Malla Khaliq was depressed. He had spent all his savings on Parveen’s marriage. Nisar Ahmed, to help him out, used to send him money through his father. Malla Khaliq felt small and pained by this. In all this, he didn’t realize that Ghulam Qadir had not returned from Pulwama.
When Malla Khaliq came to know that there was no information about Qadir’s whereabouts, he was very angry with Zeb. ‘Your heart has really turned into stone. Why were you silent for so many days?’
‘Abba, he had told me that if he was late by a couple of days, I should not get worried. So I kept mum.’
‘This very silence of yours has made him reckless.’
Noor Mohammad, who never dared to talk loudly in his father’s presence, said to his mother, ‘You tell Abba that it is of no use to blame this poor girl.’
Malla Khaliq lost his cool. ‘She alone is not to be blamed for this. Your mother’s attempts to hide his misdeeds have also emboldened him.’
Aziz Dyad retorted, ‘Have you decided to tell everyone in Gagribal about our family affairs? We have no news of him, but nobody is bothered about searching for Qadir!’
‘You can go by yourself in search of your darling. Why don’t you go?’
Noor Mohammad tried to douse the fire. ‘Abba, I think he must be at Gul Beg’s house. Qadir was talking to him behind the tent on the day of the wedding. I will go today and bring him back.’
Apple harvesting was in full swing. Gul Beg was personally supervising the grading of apples. The labourers were plucking the fruit from the trees and getting basketfuls to unload on the heap below.
A labourer called out, ‘Rahman Kaka, watch it, the ladder is not placed firmly.’ Gul Beg saw an old labourer, carrying a basket of apples, trying to climb down the ladder. The ladder shook and Rahman tumbled down along with the basketful of apples.
Gul Beg ran to the old man, gripped his throat and slapped him hard. ‘You old haggard bull! Do you think the apples belong to your bloody father that you don’t mind the loss?’
Rahman Kaka shivered with rage and freeing himself from Gul Beg’s grip, said, ‘Do not use such abusive language. You can deduct the cost of the spoiled apples from my wages.’
Gul Beg was incensed at the labourer’s gall to shout back at him. He pounced upon Rahman Kaka and started kicking him. All the labourers stopped working, thronged around the two and tried to force them apart. The chief labourer came forward, took Gul Beg to one side and said, ‘Let him be sacrificed for your well-being. His mind is not steady.’
‘I will break his skull to batter out his brain. The bloody thief! How can he have the cheek to answer back?’
Rahman shouted louder, ‘Hey you, owner of this orchard! Have you forgotten that your father also used to till the land of a landlord? He had neither clothes to wear nor food to eat. And now here you are with a tilted cap on your head, boasting of being rich. You go and ask your father; he is still alive.’
Gul Beg caught hold of a stick and was about to thrash the labourer, when a white Ambassador entered the gate of the farm. Gul Beg threw the stick aside. Rahman Kaka came near him saying, ‘Why did you throw the stick aside? Come, kill me. Why did you stop?’
Gul Beg said to the chief of the labourers, ‘You take him away, or I will kill him right now.’
When he saw Noor Mohammad alighting from the car, he said to the labourers, ‘What are you standing here for? Go and do your work. The boxes have to be loaded in the truck today.’
Noor Mohammad, after greeting him, asked, ‘Is Ghulam Qadir here?’
‘Ghulam Qadir! Why would he be here?’
‘He has been away from home for about a week. We saw you speaking to him at our house.’
‘Look here, I respect your father Haji Sahib. Had you been someone else, I would certainly teach him how to talk to Gul Beg.’
‘That can be decided later on. You tell me where you have sent our Ghulam Qadir.’
‘I already told you that he has no business here. It’s been a long time since I saw him.’
‘Maybe others will believe your lies, but not this Noor Mohammad.’
‘Is he a toddler that I would keep him hidden? What is he worth after all?’
Rahman Kaka, who was still ablaze with rage, came nearer and said to Noor Mohammad, ‘He is a fraudster. Your Ghulam Qadir was here just a couple of days ago, enjoying along with his other henchmen.’
Gul Beg again caught hold of Rahman Kaka. ‘You bloody old bullock! How dare you continue talking out of place?’
But Rahman Kaka was not one to be shouted down. ‘He sent Ghulam Qadir somewhere in a taxi.’
Gul Beg grew rabid like a wild dog, but Noor Mohammad took him aside and said, ‘Will you tell me where you have sent him, or should I report you to the police?’
‘Why go to only the police? You may approach even the chief minister. Gul Beg is not one to get scared of anyone. You believe this bastard old man? He has lost his wits! You ask all these labourers how we were just settling scores with him.’
Noor Mohammad turned to the other workers. ‘For God’s sake, tell me if Ghulam Qadir was here or not.’
The workers remained silent.
Noor Mohammad confronted Gul Beg again. ‘If Ghulam Qadir is not back home by evening, be ready to face the consequences.’
Having said this, he sat in the taxi and left. Gul Beg shouted after him, ‘All the officers of your city bow before Gul Beg! How dare you come here and threaten me?’
Then he turned to Rahman Kaka and said, ‘Just you watch, if I don’t make you beg on the streets, my name is not Gul Beg!’
‘You are not my God. You just pay me my wages and then I will not come even to spit at this orchard of yours.’
Gul Beg said to his clerk, ‘Pay all we owe to this beggar and let him out of my sight!’
Noor Mohammad was bitter with the poison of anger. He went to Doctor Nisar’s bungalow, sought his counsel, and both of them left together to see Malla Khaliq. Malla Khaliq sat with his head hung down. Narayan Joo was also looking downwards and pulling stalks of grass. Noor Mohammad did not have the nerve to utter a word. He cast a piteous look at his father who had a scrap of paper on his knees. Then he looked at his son. Doctor Nisar gathered courage to tell his grandfather, ‘Qadir Uncle was not at Gul Beg’s farm.’
Narayan Joo raised his head and said, ‘How could he be there? He must be caught in the net of some big problem after having reached Delhi.’
‘What?’ Doctor Nisar was alarmed.
Malla Khaliq passed the chit of paper to Nisar Ahmed. Noor Mohammad mustered up some courage to ask his father, ‘What is this paper about?’
Narayan Joo turned to him and said, ‘Your brother has written this letter from the airport to inform you that he left for Delhi to do some business there.’
Malla Khaliq’s eyes were red. ‘Read out the note to your father,’ he said to Doctor Nisar.
Nisar Ahmed started reading out the letter. ‘Abba, I am going to Delhi in connection with the carpet export business. The broker who got me a big order from America came to see me at Pulwama where I was attending my friend’s sister’s wedding. He had already booked the ticket for me, and so I could not come home before leaving. Please forgive me for this lapse and I entreat you not to worry about me. I will return after meeting the customer. Ghulam Qadir.’
Noor Mohammad was enraged. ‘But he did no
t even go to Pulwama. He was at Gul Beg’s house all these days. I am sure Gul Beg is luring him into some illicit trade.’
‘Now all the dots will get connected,’ said Narayan Joo to Malla Khaliq. ‘Gul Beg’s agent Lasa Tak was with him when he handed over this letter to our Mohi-ud Din who had gone to the airport to receive a guest.’
Hearing this, Malla Khaliq stood up, saying, ‘I will go to DIG Prahlad Singh now and get Gul Beg apprehended.’
Narayan Joo held him back, saying, ‘Why do you get swayed so easily? You are sticking your hand in a hornet’s nest. If the police come to know about this incident, all of Srinagar will know that Malla Khaliq’s son has fled his home. What will Parveen’s in-laws say if they hear about it? It hasn’t even been a week since her wedding.’
Malla Khaliq, like a wingless bird, dropped to the ground. ‘What should we do then?’
Narayan Joo said, ‘We must, first of all, try to find out his whereabouts in Delhi, and what he is doing there.’
Nisar Ahmed did not agree. ‘But, Lala Sahib, Delhi is not our Gagribal that even if a needle is lost, it can be traced out. How will we find him there and who will do this?’
‘I know all the fruit merchants in Delhi, even Gul Beg’s merchant Gur Sain Mal. I will phone him and I am sure we will find out all about Qadir.’
Malla Khaliq lost track of time and hardly remembered how many days Qadir had been away from home.
Narayan Joo somehow managed to trace Qadir’s whereabouts. But by then Gul Beg had already booked his ticket for Bombay. The apple trader Gur Sain informed Narayan Joo that two more traders were to have left with Qadir for Bombay. He reached Malla Khaliq’s house in the early hours of the morning to break this news to him. He assured him that Vijay Kumar was in Bombay and would certainly meet Qadir. Keeping his hand on his shoulder, he said to Malla Khaliq, ‘Haji Sahib, you have taught me never to leave faith in God’s mercy.’
‘I feel numb and helpless. I feel lonely. Noor Mohammad has left to help his son Nisar set up his home and hearth. Ghulam Ahmed will also come soon and take away his wife to Pattan. Parveen has already moved out to prosper in her separate world. Only this Qadir was left behind with us. Who knows what snare he has fallen in? If something untoward were to happen to him, I don’t know what Zeb would do. What will happen to Bilal?’