This Is Not That Dawn: Jhootha Sach, page 51
‘Quaid-e-Azam lovingly embraced the man who had come to murder him, and said to the Pathan, “My brother in Islam, nothing can happen without the will of that rab-al-alameen, the Lord-God of the Creation. If Allah has told you to murder me for the sake of Islam and our Muslim brothers, you must carry out His command.” Quaid-e-Azam bared his chest. “What greater blessing can there be than that my blood may be spilled for the sake of Islam and my Muslim brothers?” He has the fear of Allah in his heart. Gandhi doesn’t even come close to him, by comparison. Everything Quaid-e-Azam says is for the good of Muslims. He understands that kafirs and momins, true believers, cannot coexist. His plan for the transfer of the two populations was absolutely right.’
Amjad said, ‘At least two thousand Hindus have left the city since this morning. Probably the same number of Muslims have arrived from the east.’
Hafizji got up from the charpoy and said, ‘I’ll go and sleep. I have to get up for the tahajjud prayer at midnight.’ He left.
Amjad gestured with his head in Tara’s direction and said to his mother and bhabhi, ‘What garbage have you been collecting in this house? Others are throwing the kafirs out of the country, but you’ve kept one in your own home.’
‘Once she joins the ummah, the community of believers, she won’t be a kafir any more. Your father, and we too, will reap that sawab. Doing something in the name of his religion is so important to your father. You know he’s converted many kafirs—I know of at least nine—to Islam. On fifteenth of this month or on the auspicious day of Eid, his wish may well be realized,’ Amjad’s mother said to pacify him.
‘Father’s worry is always that jannat won’t have enough people in it. If all the Hindus of Punjab converted to Islam and stayed on here, what good would that do for the poorer classes of Muslims?’
Tara had expressed her unwillingness to convert to Islam, but Hafizji did not give up hope. He marshalled all the spiritual resources at his disposal into another campaign of persuasion. To his ceremony of conferring the purifying breath after the first namaz of the day, he added similar ministrations after each prayer, by making Tara sit next to him as he chanted a mantra from the Quran to ward off the influence of the devil and evil spirits from her mind. He increased the number of duas he said each day to Allah the All-Holy that Tara might eventually see the light. For Tara, the feel of another’s person’s breath on her face was disgusting.
She was growing increasingly restive to get away from her place of confinement, but she did not want to fall again into wrong hands such as those of Nabbu. She hoped that by not antagonizing Hafizji she might some day be able to find a safe haven for herself. In some moments of extreme despair she even thought of quietly leaving their house, regardless of the danger. If she ever had to face a similar situation, she had decided, she’d fight to the death rather than allow herself to be abducted. She remembered how Rukkan had swung the pestle at Nabbu in self-defence. She also recalled what those women at Rukkan’s house had said about doing to a man to ward off his attack.
The last day of Ramadan fell on 17 August. Hafizji had been in a jubilant mood since morning. The next day was not only the occasion for the Eid festival, but also for thanksgiving to Allah for creating Pakistan for Muslims. When he came home from saying the evening magharib prayer at the mosque, Hafizji asked Tara to come and sit beside him. He recited a dua that Allah might shower His kindness on her, and began speaking with Amjad’s mother so that Tara too could listen.
‘Our daughter Badru is about the same age as her, maybe even a few months younger. By the grace of Allah she has two children. And what lovely kids! It befits a young woman to be a mother. I have a couple of men in mind who have good jobs. But,’ he pointed at Tara, ‘the problem is that she’s already married. In accordance with the Shariah law, a woman may not be married again as long as her lawfully wedded husband is alive. If she accepted Islam as her faith, her first marriage would be annulled automatically. How, otherwise, would a God-fearing Muslim agree to marry her?’
From what he said, it came out that he had already rescued three oppressed and persecuted Hindu women and given them a new and better lease on life by getting them married off to bright and able young Muslim men. One young woman had been well educated like Tara, and had left home after being ill-treated by her husband. Hafizji had her nikah performed with a Muslim who worked as a registry clerk under his elder son Ahmed Ali. Not only was she happy and content in her new life, but Allah had also blessed her with children.
Amjad’s mother said, stroking Tara’s shoulder affectionately, ‘This poor young thing has none of those uncivilized kafir traits. In features and build she looks and behaves so much like our Badru. She’s been eating with us whatever we eat. She has even kept thirteen Ramadan fasts with us. Allah had sent her to be here, she’s almost like one of us now. And she’s not a child; we should think of her own likes and dislikes. Show her some men from behind the purdah, and she’ll select one herself.’
Hafizji said, ‘Yes, why not? You’re right. That can be arranged. But before that, it’s necessary for her to accept the Faith and become a part of the ummah.’
Tara was sitting with downcast eyes. She said slowly, fingering the edge of her toenail, ‘Tayaji, I have no such intention now, nor did I ever have. Whatever was destined for me, happened, and whatever Allah or Ishwar wanted, that too happened. There’s nothing left for me to want. But if there’s any other way I can please this Allah or Ishwar, I’m willing to take it.’
‘Tut! Tut! Tut! You speak like that because you’re under stress,’ Hafizji stopped her from going on. ‘Beti, it’s all because of mental stress. It’s wrong to go against the laws of nature. The law of God stipulates that a woman must marry. Allah has given woman the face of an angel, but the devil is always misleading her. That’s why the Shariah stipulates that she should always remain in the custody of a male, of her father in childhood, of her husband when she becomes a woman, and of her sons when she is old …’
Tara sat seething inwardly. When it comes to women, Islam is no less repressive than Hindu society, she was thinking.
Hafizji went on, ‘For the protection of women, the Shariah says that if she is young and not pregnant, she must get married within four months and thirteen days of becoming a widow, or she may fall under the influence of Iblis, the devil. A marriage can take place in Islam only with the consent of a woman to the man of her choice. Whatever we do, will be befitting your education and personality, and with your consent.’
Her eyes still downcast, Tara said in a firm tone, ‘No, tayaji. I have no such intention.’
Hafizji spoke as he got up, ‘Beti, it’s better not to make a decision on such matters when you’re distressed. If you have faith in Allah and his Prophet, your heart and mind will be cleansed. Then your ideas will correct themselves.’
Amjad’s mother added, ‘Beti, such decisions aren’t made in a hurry. Whatever we want to do, we only want to do for your good.’
When Khursheed heard that Tara was unwilling to accept Islam, she was infuriated. She remained quiet in deference to her father-in-law, but spoke up as soon as he was out of the room, ‘These Hindu women get into the habit of roaming about in the bazaars and streets, just like an abandoned cow or a buffalo, without their heads and faces being covered. How can they observe purdah like us decent, respectable women? We are ashamed to take even a step out of the house without wearing a burka! May Allah’s anger fall upon such shameless women! A woman has to have some sense of shame and decorum.’
Tara listened to her insulting remarks, but kept quiet. ‘What can I say?’ she thought, ‘to anyone who can gloat over anything that is backward, coarse and repressive? How can I convince anyone so fanatic about her living conditions?’
Morning dawned on the holy day of Eid. Since they did not have to get up at daybreak to eat sahari before beginning their fast, the family of Hafizji woke up later than usual, after hearing the call for the fajr prayer. Hafizji had brought home an enormous national flag of Pakistan. The first thing he did in the morning was to go up to the roof and hoist it up a flagpole. Most houses of the neighbourhood had flags on their roofs. He called everyone, including Tara. Tara had seen green flags before, but never in such large numbers. And this new flag seemed a bit different from the usual flag of the Muslim League. And it also seemed to her that this flag had turned her Lahore and Punjab into another, unknown city and country. The faces of Hafizji’s family were beaming with happiness, but Tara’s heart was weighed down with worry and uncertainty. These flags were a reminder that she was away from her own people, a prisoner in a foreign land.
Everyone had a bath and wore new clothes especially made for the festival. Hafizji had asked that Tara too should be given a new set of clothes, but Khursheed ignored his suggestion. She voiced her objections to her mother-in-law, ‘Only Muslims are supposed to wear new clothes for Eid. If she doesn’t want to accept Islam, we have nothing to give her. As it is, the prices are so high that I could hardly manage a new set for everyone else.’
The whole family was in high spirits. Khursheed’s youngest daughter looked like a butterfly in her colourful clothes. Preparations were being made to cook zarda, sawainyan and make tea flavoured with almonds and spices. Hafizji was still hoping to win Tara over. At his insistence, Khursheed took out for Tara, not without much grumbling, a set of her freshly laundered shalwar, kameez and dupatta.
When Hafizji saw Tara in clean clothes, he at once raised his hands in prayer reciting a dua that she might get salvation, and said to her affectionately, ‘Beti, today is a blessed occasion. It’s the holy Eid. This is the first day in the existence of a country of God. If you agree to profess your faith today by reciting kailmah pak, and join the ummah, your heavenly reward will be doubled.’
Tara replied very politely, her head bent in respect, ‘Tayaji, I respect you more than my own father. I have no wish to mislead you. I’m telling you the truth, that I just can’t bring myself round to changing my religion. I wouldn’t have hesitated otherwise. You’ve seen that I have few other objections; I eat with you all. But, still if you insist I will agree, even though I will do so against what my heart and my mind tells me.’
Amjad’s mother said, ‘If you recite kalmah pak, the cloud of doubt hanging over your mind and heart will vanish by itself. You’ll see the light, and you’ll be at peace.’
Tara replied, ‘If it’s an order from you, I will. I’m ready to give it a try, if you ask me to. But please don’t blame me if I don’t change my mind.’
Amjad did not like Tara’s answer. His brow wrinkled in annoyance at the irreverence being shown to kalmah. He could not stop himself from objecting, ‘Reciting kalmah pak is not a matter of trial and error, or something to make fun of. Why should she recite it unless she believes in it?’
He got up and, to show his disapproval, went downstairs. Everyone was quiet. After a few moments, Hafizji also got up and followed Amjad downstairs. Khursheed now spoke up, ‘Let this wretch go to the devil! God save us all, why disgrace the kalmah by having it uttered by some non-believer! What can anyone do if she’s determined to go to hell!’
Tara got up, covered her face with her dupatta, and went out of the room.
Everyone except Hafizji was angry with Tara. No one spoke to her. She sat by herself without saying anything. Khursheed stopped asking her to come and join the family at mealtime. She would ask, rather reluctantly, one of her daughters to take a plateful of food to Tara.
As she sat alone and in silence, Tara became alert to any conversation going on in the house. She heard Amjad say as he ate his dinner, ‘Let’s get her off our backs. Why keep this problem at home when she doesn’t want to accept the Faith? All the Hindus remaining in Lahore have been shut up into camps. I can have her sent there, if you say so. Then can fend for herself and be Hindustan’s problem.’
Khursheed supported her brother-in-law, ‘Wheat is selling for one and half seer a rupee. We should feed the family first. Who has enough to spare to feed a kafir?’
Hafizji tried to calm them, ‘Be patient, everyone. To bring wayward unbelievers back to the path of Allah is a religious obligation and a meritorious action as well. Wait for ten or fifteen days. Remember, you are all Muslims. You should try to bring her round by your kindness and civility.’
Tara saw a ray of hope. ‘Amjad is blunt by nature,’ she thought. ‘He is not mealy-mouthed like his parents, but blurts out whatever comes into his head. He doesn’t like me, but he appears to be my only hope of getting out of here.’
Remembering what Amjad had said the previous night, Tara went to his mother in the morning and requested her help in finding the camp for Hindus.
The begum appeared to be shocked, ‘Hai beti, what are you saying! What does a purdah-observing woman like me know about camps-shamps? Hardly any Hindus are left in the city. We all wanted you to accept the Faith, so that you could be happy in this world and also in the next. What can we do if you don’t listen to us? You yourself ask the men about the camp.’
When Amjad returned home later, Tara gathered her courage and went to him. She addressed him respectfully as ‘bhaiji’, and told him that she wanted to be sent to a camp for Hindus.
Amajd answered without looking at her, ‘Don’t ask me about that.’
Tara did not know how else to deal with the agony of her imprisonment. None of these people were willing to take her to a Hindu camp. And if she went to look for one by herself, there was the fear of criminals like Nabbu.
‘Is it not a sin to force me to accept Islam against my own judgement and wishes?’ Tara asked herself. ‘Somraj and Nabbu tortured, polluted and defiled my body. These people are bent upon destroying my soul. I was helpless on those occasions, but I didn’t give in and did my best to resist and fight back. These people want me to accept their torture willingly, of my own wish, by breaking my spirit.’
What’s the harm, she thought, if she just uttered the words of the kalmah, but did not believe in them? What would that do to her? She’d tell them that she was doing it under the condition that she wouldn’t marry anyone. That might be one way to get out.
But she checked her thoughts. ‘No, that wouldn’t be right. In trying to deceive them, I myself might get caught. If I said yes to Islam, these people would begin to tighten their hold over me.’
Her head spun with confusion and indecision. Maybe she should just starve herself to death. She remembered her brother telling her what happened to people who went on hunger strikes in prison. But would these people care if she went on a hunger strike? Hafizji had already told her what he thought of someone threatening to go on a fast. What reason would these people have for feeling morally responsible if something happened to her? The British government was afraid of Gandhi’s fasts because there would have been a public outcry if something happened to him. Fasting by someone matters only if his life has some value. ‘Suppose I fasted and got so weak that I couldn’t move, and these people pushed me out into the gali? I wouldn’t even have the strength to get up and walk away. And if I fell into the hands of some criminal in that condition, how would I defend myself? Instead of freedom, all I would have is a shameful death. I’d lie unclaimed, with flies buzzing over my dead body.’
The family of Hafizji had another reason to celebrate the creation of Pakistan. Due to the shortage of police personnel after the Hindu officers left Lahore, Amjad was promoted to the grade of inspector, and was given the job of consolidating his department’s resources. He continued to live at home.
On the evening of 22 August, Amjad said to his father when they were alone, ‘There was a government order that if there were any Hindus left in Lahore, their whereabouts should be reported to the police, and to the Indian government’s Liaison Officer in the city. The business of this girl has become more complicated. It wouldn’t have mattered if she had converted to Islam, but as long as she’s a Hindu, it would be a crime not to report her.’
Hafizji did not want to cause any problems for his newly promoted officer son. He said, ‘It’s her bad luck. How can we do anything against our own government’s law? Do what you think proper.’
Next morning, before he left for his office, Amjad spoke to Tara without looking at her, ‘It’s proper that you go to the camp for Hindus. That’s what you asked for. I’ll send a vehicle and a couple of constables later in the day. They’ll take you to a camp.’
What more could Tara ask for?
Chapter 16
AUGUST FOURTEENTH. PEOPLE HAD BEGUN TO DECORATE THEIR SHOPS AND houses since sunrise in Nainital. Men and women were walking around carrying flags with horizontal bands of ochre at the top, green at the bottom and white in between, and the emblem of a spoked wheel in the centre of the white band. Everyone wanted to have the national flag of an independent India flying from their shops and over their houses before midnight. Some had already raised it.
At many places in the bazaars, groups of people agog with excitement stood listening to the radio to know the news of the day. The bazaars were festooned in the colours of the flag and with garlands of flowers. Festive buntings and streamers also hung from thin poles driven into the ground at intervals along the roadways. Arches of bamboo were decorated with lush green leaves and swathes of the tricolour. The air was heavy with the smells of boiling ghee and hot syrup, of freshly fried jalebies. The scent of burning incense wafted through the air. The Boat House Club and the Capitol Theatre of Nainital, over which the Union Jack had floated at the time when Congress first formed the ministry in 1937, and even when the Congress protest movement was at its height, were now being draped with tricolour festoons.
