“Sir, the RAW men may want their pound of flesh.”
“Saw his body into two and give half to them.”
“Right boss—one more thing, one of his friends has joined him.”
“Friend? Now, who is this?”
“He calls him Budshah.”
“Oh him, kill him too, but wait, you kill Yousuf Shah, let RAW kill Budshah, but kill them both, over and out.”
Yousuf Shah and Budshah were terrified. Both men were in the jaws of death. Yousuf Shah’s own bodyguards were plotting to kill him.
“Oh treachery! Oh, conspirators! Oh God! What a day!” Yousuf Shah lamented.
“It is not day, it is midnight. Let us make good our escape while the woods are dark,” Budshah said.
Yousuf Shah was already moving from there. They walked cautiously trying to move very quietly. They could not risk detection. As they gained some distance, they threw all caution to the winds and ran.They ran wildly without caring for the difficult terrain. They ran on and on. They wanted to go as far as they could before dawn.
The guards came to know of their escape in the morning. The Commander immediately contacted Nullah Khan and informed him of Yousuf Shah’s treachery. Nullah Khan was furious. He directed the guards to fan out into the woods and search for the missing men. Nullah Khan contacted Delhi and arranged for a massive manhunt.
The army columns situated in the area were put on the job and the army commanders drafted ‘friendlies” into the countryside. They had to locate the two men, arrest them and kill them in an encounter.
Yousuf Shah and Budshah continued to run from one forest to another till they came into the open meadows. Traversing the meadows they entered small sleepy villages, and finally reached the outskirts of a town. It was evening time. The sun was fast disappearing beyond the mountains. Both men felt exhausted. Unable to move, they took shelter under a chinar tree. Looking around they noticed a pond with a multitude of fish swimming in the placid waters. An old dilapidated temple stood nearby. Yousuf Shah and Budshah stretched their bodies on the soft turf. They never knew when they were engulfed by swarms of butterflies, their tiny delicate wings lulling their senses into a deep sleep.
Kalhan Pandit’s captors had their dinner and within a few moments they had fallen asleep. He examined each of his guards. Having satisfied himself he moved out of the small house that had held him captive for a few months. As Kalhan came out into the yard outside, he stopped for a while. He remembered his friend, the young lad who had helped him organize his escape. Unfortunately, he too had to be put to sleep. Kalhan headed for the spot where this young man lay. He went near him, sat on the floor, put his hand over the young man’s head and kissed his shining forehead. He was overwhelmed by emotions. He wished this man well. He tore himself away from the sleeping youth and moved out. He had no time to waste. He had to escape in time. Coming out into the open, he began his march. He knew the direction he had to follow in order to reach his place. He had decided to visit the tiny room from where he had been kidnapped. He would collect the genealogical tables, the only treasure he possessed, and move out of the valley. His son shad been right. He alone had misjudged the situation. He would board a bus for the plains. Kalhan Pandit accelerated his pace on familiar ground. He had visited this area a number of times. He knew every villager of any importance. But he decided against knocking at any door. Times had changed. A friend was no longer a friend. Kalhan took a deep sigh.
Suddenly he felt as if he was traveling in an alien land. The trees under which he passed appeared different. The mountains in the distance seemed strange. The ground under his feet appeared to oppose him. He felt surrounded by numerous faceless forms. He could sense their presence. He could see them dance around him. He could imagine them carrying drawn swords. Kalhan wiped the sweat from his brow. He reassured himself. These trees, well, they were the same.
There is my favourite tree, the chinar, and there stands the Pir Panchal range of mountains. I have grown up under its benevolent gaze from my childhood. An oppressive silence engulfed him. He continued to walk. He could hear a lonely dog barking in the distance. He began humming a mantra. This would calm his nerves, he thought. By and by, Kalhan Pandit managed the long distance, and at dawn, he stepped into the sprawling temple complex. He had to hurry, get his papers, and move out. As he traveled the wide expanse of turf under the trees, he saw his favourite chinar at a distance. He could not resist the temptation to have a closer last look at the tree planted by his ancestors. He changed course and headed towards the majestic chinar. He came near and held his breath as he saw two men lying prostrate on the green turf beneath the tree. Kalhan remained there, motionless. He did not know what to do. Who were these young men? Both looked regal in appearance. They were no ordinary mortals. Kalhan could not ignore their presence. He had to investigate. Who knew if these men had come from some far of land in search of him to get back to their ancestors. Kalhan could not deny them the right to know. He moved nearer. He was no longer scared or confused. He touched the shoulder of one of the men and called out softly, “Hello, please get up, I am back.”
There was no response. He touched the other man and repeated his words. The second man opened his eyes, looked at Kalhan, took a look around and sat up. The first man also opened his eyes and sat up. Now Kalhan was in full control. “You both get up.You have been lying here, you could catch a cold. One of the men replied, “Thank you for your concern, we are fine.”
“All right, all right, now tell me your name, both of you, then I will look into my tables and give you the entire information.”
“Well, I am Yousuf, Yousuf Shah.”
“And yourself?” Kalhan asked the other man. “Sultan Zain-ul-Abidin Budshah.”
“Oh my God! What have I been doing, stupid me, I couldn’t place you!” Kalhan Pandit prostrated himself in front of the two. Both men looked at each other. Budshah put his hand on Kalhan Pandit’s head and said, “Rise, Pandit ji. It doesn’t look nice. You are an old man. We respect you. We hold you in high esteem, please rise.”
Kalhan Pandit got to his feet. As he straightened up, a volley of bullets hit the chinar tree and twigs fell down in front of them. The rattling sound of AK-47 rifles spewing fire came from the entrance to the temple complex. Kalhan Pandit said urgently, “Sir, please come with me. You are in danger. There is only one place where no one can reach you. Please hurry to the storeroom behind the temple building. There, amongst my rolls and rolls of genealogical tables we shall remain and no one shall ever find us there. Come Sirs, come…and follow me.”
Saying this, Kalhan led the two young men along the bank of the fish pond and behind the dilapidated temple building into his dungeon and hid them behind rolls of genealogical tables as guns boomed and grenades exploded outside.
Doordarshan had purchased the global rights for telecasting live the grand Kashmir auction. The organizers of the auction were ‘Kashyap and Sons Pvt Ltd’ He had finally got around to accepting the DD offer. There was stiff competition with all the international networks in the fray. Ajab Malik appeared on the small screen. He was to conduct the entire show. He began by introducing Kashmir to his viewers. In chaste Persian he recited:
“If there is a paradise on earth, it is this, it is this, it is this.”
He gave its geographical location as the camera focused on a world map and then an aerial view of the picturesque valley came into focus. He narrated various historical facts—the snow covered lofty mountains, shimmering lakes, singing brooks, waterfalls, and deep and dense woods engaged the viewer’s attention.
The camera then moved to the airport. A Pan Am flight was taxiing and as it came to a halt, the Wazir-e-Azam accompanied by his cabinet colleagues and high officials waited in attendance. Miss Robin Hood emerged from the plane and descended the steps quickly. She was profusely garlanded by the Wazir-e-Azam as a multitude of men and women held at bay by baton wielding soldiers shouted, “Miss Robin Hood…Zindabad.” The Wazir-e-Azam introduced the visiting dignitary to his cabinet colleagues and officials. The chief of All Parties No People Conference (APNPC), chief of religious and social organizations—all profusely welcomed the lady. Next the camera shifted to the waiting press persons. In reply to a question Miss Hood said, “We maintain that auction will pave the way for more dialogue between Kashmiris and Kashmiris. We still hold the right to declare the territory as a disputed piece of land.”
The camera again shifted to an incoming plane. Maharaja Keran Rajput emerged from it and the great number of men and women present shouted slogans, “Sri Sarkar Zindabad.” The Wazir-e-Azam welcomed the Maharaja and introduced him to his colleagues. In reply to a question the Maharaja said, “Our ancestors possessed the land, we have duly executed the sale deed. Our rights cannot be denied. We are the rightful owners. Usurpers must go.”
The camera again shifted to an incoming plane. Mulla Nateg Shirazi in a black flowing robe and a round turban emerged from the plane and taking majestic strides descended down the stairs and was embraced by the Wazir-e-Azam who introduced him to the nobles who had been waiting. The men and women raised slogans.
“Inqilabi Islam Zindabad.” Mulla Nateg Shirazi in reply to a question mentioned that there existed great similarities between his country and Kashmir so much so that “Shiraz is located in downtown Srinagar.”
The camera again focused on an incoming plane. As it taxied on the tarmac, comrade Rinchan alighted from it and was received and profusely garlanded by the Wazir-e-Azam and his colleagues. The multitude of men and women raised slogans Kishmiri Chini Bhai Bhai.
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
