Todermal in a hurriedly convened press conference announced the arrest in the capital. Giving details, the minister claimed that the terrorist had been arrested after he was wounded in a procession led by activists of Kenun Kashmir. The terrorist had close links with the ISI and he had planned to create havoc in the capital by causing RDX explosions at a number of sites. Many incriminating documents had been seized from his possession, and these documents clearly proved beyond doubt the involvement of a neighbouring country in destabilizing India. When asked about the nature of these documents, the minister disclosed that these documents were written in some ancient script and a team of experts had been constituted to decipher them. The team had its first meeting and decided to constitute a sub-committee with the specific purpose of undertaking a visit to the Pyramids of Egypt to reach a conclusion as to the hieroglyphic relation of these documents with the writings in Mohenjo-Daro. The sub-committee had been asked to submit its report in six months time, after which the team would finalize its main report within one year.
In the meantime, Budshah was allowed to leave the hospital. He was seated in a police van and as the van left the hospital premises it was preceded by a dozen and followed by another dozen armored vehicles. The convoy sped along the Delhi roads, hooting sirens and bringing the entire traffic to a standstill. Budshah sat quietly looking beyond his immediate vicinity. He was totally cut off from the hustle and bustle around him. He had been considering a particular issue. While in the hospital, he was highly impressed by the professional competence of the medical staff. The care with which these young girls nursed his wounds, the equipment available for treating diseases, and the overall working of the health care mechanism had forced him to take notice. Somehow, he wanted such expert surgeons and physicians, dedicated nurses and other hospital staff to be available throughout the length and breadth of his kingdom. How to do that? He had been considering these issues. He wanted his country to become disease free, a healthy, joyous, happy, prosperous nation. He resolved to take every necessary step in this direction.
The column of vehicles continued to run on Delhi roads till finally it reached a red granite fort. Budhshah was asked to come out of the vehicle. The men escorted him inside the fort and after walking through, what seemed to him to be miles of corridors, he was finally made to enter a room. There was a single rope cot lying in the middle of the room.
Only a single ventilator adorned the wall, near the ceiling. An iron grill was securely fitted to this ventilator. Budshah could only see a patch of blue sky through this gap. Fresh air was scarce. He felt hot and humid. He removed his jacket and placed it on the rope cot and seated himself on a corner of the cot. Suddenly, he felt all alone. The chain of his thoughts had long ago broken. His escorts were nowhere in sight. He stood up and went to the door, placed his hand on the handle and pushed. The door did not move. He pushed harder. Nothing happened. He pushed with all his might but the door refused to budge. For the first time it dawned on him that he was finally under arrest.
Through that fortnight Kashyap remained glued to the pocket radio set that he had managed to take with him when he escaped from the valley. He eagerly awaited the news that Jaladbhava’s men had been wiped out from the face of the valley. The idea of bombardment had not appealed to him in the beginning for it was sure to destroy his mansion also. After all, how does a bomb know that the house down there belongs to Kashyap and not to Jaladbhava or, for that matter, how does the fire, which was sure to follow any large scale aerial bombardment, know which was his orchard? It was sure to be destroyed but Kashyap and most of his companions in the tents were prepared to sacrifice their properties for the sake of Bharat Mata’s honour in the hope that this would finally make them the only rightful owners of the entire valley.
As the fortnight passed, nothing of the sort expected happened. Yes, there were reports of large-scale arrests, killings and curfew, but the end was nowhere in sight. Kashyap became restive. How could he live in a tent for the rest of his life? Something had gone wrong somewhere. His immediate concern was his own and his family’s upkeep.
The relief provided by the authorities was alright but how long would it last? Kashyap finally decided to act. He had to do something profitable. In an alien land what could he do? Start a business on his own? No, that would not be wise at this stage. Then what? He continued to ponder this question and finally as a flash of lightening an idea struck him. Property agents. Yes, that was it! From the very next day he began his new venture. “Kashyap and Sons. Property Dealers. Sale and purchase of plots”.
Kashyap was soon to realize that he was an excellent broker. He would arrange a deal between the seller and the buyer and earn a neat commission in the process. No investment and no risk. Within a short span of one year Kashyap had come to be known as one of the most successful brokers in town. He had sold and resold hundreds of residential plots. His economic standing had registered a dramatic upswing. He again moved in a car and purchased a modest house in one of the fast developing colonies of Jammu.
While Kashyap was engaged in fighting his own battle for survival, his orchard at Chota London deteriorated. In the absence of proper care, the fencing gave way, cattle moved in and when the trees bore fruit the village children had a field day. His mansion at Srinagar mysteriously caught fire and Kashyap promptly filed his insurance claim.
An excerpt from Ayaz Rasool Nazki’s book SATISAR, THE VALLEY OF DEMONS published by Vitasta Publishing and the book is available on www.vitastapublishing.com
