Aman ki Asha -II

Its 2.30pm. I had to leave for Sharjah at 3.30pm, I was in my hotel room when somebody comes to call me saying the car in waiting and I am late.
There’s still time how can I be late??? Without wasting a moment I jump out of the chair pick up my goggles, fastened my waist pouch and leave the room.

A white SUV, land Cruiser is waiting and the driver had a frown on his spectacled face because I was late. I say sorry and settle myself in the front seat next to the driver. I usually prefer to sit next to the driver since I get the best view of the surroundings. The driver was fast, very fast but here it is safe because one is assured that no cow or dog or man will cross the road out of the blue. 90-100 kms an hour is normal. Also the roads are made that way and the traffic is disciplined and I was enjoying the speedy drive!

One could feel the blazing heat outside. Nobody could dare to drive without an AC. One side is the desert and the other side a busy highway
The waft of the AC in our car was too cold and a slight shiver ran through me. The driver sensed it and adjusted the temperature. This gesture made me feel comfortable. Yesterday’s experience with the Pakistani was fresh in my mind and I was a bit skeptical.

This time the driver started the conversation.
D : Kaha ke ho madam?? (Where are you from???)
Me : India.
D : India mein kaha?? (Where in India??)
Me : Pune. Mumbai ke paas (Close to Bombay.)
D : Pune janta hoon. (ya know Pune)
Pause.
His Hindi was rich. Different. The one you hear when Gulzar speaks sprinkled with Urdu words.
Me : Aap kaha ke ho??? (Where are you from??)
D : Kashmir.
Me : Kashmir!!!!
D : (coolly)…yes Kashmir.
Me : You from my country.
He only nodded.

I composed my self and was feeling simply relaxed by now.
Crossed a small eatery, which advertised camel biryani, camel burger, camel kebabs etc. Is it true?? Camel – can somebody eat it???
Out of curiosity I asked the driver
Me : Kohi camel khate hai?? (Does anybody ever eat a camel??)
D : ya. They eat here.
Me : aap bhi?? (Even you??)
D : nahi mein nahi khata. (no I don’t eat)
Me : What do you eat here??
D : regular Indian food.

Wondered what could a man coming from Kashmir - the most beautiful part of the world- eat in this desert??

I was transported years back when I taught a Kashmiri student, he was two an a half years old then, his favorite dish was Gucchi Mattar which he got once a while in his tiffin. I used to laugh at the very name. Later came to know that it’s a dish made from Lotus stem or root and also very expensive

Me : Aap Gucchi Mattar miss nahi karte?? (Don’t you miss gucchi Mattar)?
Driver surprised….
D : You know gucchi Mattar ???When I go to Kashmir I have.

I was nearing my destination and asked him his name.
Me : aap ka naam?? (What’s your name??)
D : Parvez.
Me : Oh!! Nice name!!

I had reached the destination and left this car. I had to be here for 4-5 hours.
The hours flew by. It was 8.30pm. The crowds were rushing back to which ever transport they could get.

The desert looked beautiful and the cold winds played its role. Its not easy to walk in the desert. Our feet go deep in the sand and it becomes difficult to wade through it. The moon looked so beautiful. The expanse of the desert and the stretch of the sky raced for miles and miles together. Wondered do they really meet at the horizon????

It was late and puzzled as how I would reach my hotel in Dubai from these deserts in Sharjah.
When suddenly I heard someone calling, “Madam, Madam our car is parked here we go together, it’s my responsibility till I drop you back to your hotel”

Parvez!!!

God sent I thought and got in the SUV once again.

The conversation strikes again from where we had left.

Me : Which place in Kashmir are you from??
Parvez : Doda
Oh I tell myself…Doda very much a part of our troubled valley!!!!

Me : What do you like here??
Parvez : It gives me bread and butter.
Me : How many years you are here??
Parvez : 12 years
Me : Long time. Do you go home to Kashmir??
Parvez : yes!! 2 months in a year.
Me : How beautiful is Kashmir??? (though a stupid question)
Parvez : Lots. Very beautiful. Still a Paradise on earth if all the violence is cut out.
Me : Who all stay here??
Parvez : Everybody!! Wife, kids, parents, brothers, sisters all.
Me : All here?? Who stays in Kashmir then??
Parvez : Nobody. We got house a big house, somebody takes care. Like a caretaker you see.
Me : hmm…..

(We now leave the desert and touch the city. The roads are glitzy the place spews riches, loads and loads of it. It doesn’t lack anything for the ones who can afford it. The moon following us. The moon has its own elegance. The road is adorned with a necklace of streetlights but cannot shadow the moon. All cars speeding. I want a picture but slowing the car could be an impossible task, I reach for my camera…Parvez slows down the car before I saying anything and I get the picture I want but am not happy with it . Anyway!!!

The rhythm in our conversation is not disturbed…

Parvez : I got everybody here a few years back. Life was getting bad there. Never knew from where a bomb could blast. I came here and one by one shifted everybody to Dubai.
Me : Are the neighbors there (Pakistanis) really bad.
Parvez : Wont say all, but the ripped valley is the proof, ya they are.
Me : hmm……
Parvez : but my neighbor here is a Pakistani. His family helps my family when we need help. We both know from what circumstances we have come here. He has his story to tell and I have mine. But at the end of the day it’s a bare minimum decent living that we look forward to. At least we come home without a bloodstain here. This country gives me that. Our women are safe here, our children go to school here, and at least they don’t have images, which we still carry when we went to school in Kashmir.

Me : Do you like India??
Parvez : I am an Indian and I am extremely proud of it.
Me : And you kids??
Parvez : We have trained them to like India though we stay here. They are taught we are Indians first and are here only for work.
Me : will you come back to India??
Parvez : NO
Me : Why???
Parvez : I’ll be shortly going for the same job to London. Our family will migrate from here. Don’t misunderstand madam.
We love our country a lot, but the current circumstances don’t allow us to. We have lot of memories and the soil beckons us. The aroma of the soil lingers withs us all the time.
When we travel to Kashmir we fly Indian Airlines only – reason??? The moment the airhostess gets water we drink as if our throats were parched and yes - they are - we have missed the water of our motherland. It tastes different; it has the sweetest taste, which we long for. This country gives us everything but……..
Me : but……
Parvez : Surely something is missing. Madam you touched the chord, which pains the most.

Parvez’s wounds were still not healed and how would they???

I could see the hotel from a distance now….

Still many things were to be said, to be heard…………..
There was silence for a while but I could hear all his unsaid words..

Time to part…my heart was heavy.
We shook hands and bid good-bye, never to see this handsome man with emotional scars again.

His parting left something with me….

In my room.

My mind clutters with thoughts

Blast in Pune before I left…?

Shahrukh Khans statement about how good our neighbors are and their presence in IPL….?

2 Sikhs beheaded in Peshawar for refusing to convert to Islam…?

Yesterday’s encounter with a Pakistani driver – his struggle for a living…?

Today Parvez – and his story – a story for survival…?

All this just happening within our country and just across our border

Who is the safest???
?
?
?

Angle changed and the kaleidoscope gave a different picture....

Today's newspapers flashed - Government spends 5 crores on Kasab’s security.


Aman ki Asha – Can somebody please explain????

Aman ki Asha - I

Gulf

Couple of years back Bahrain
And now UAE. UAE consists of 7 states namely Abu Dhabi, Sharjah, Ajman, Umm al-Quwain, Rasal-Khaimah and Fujairah.

None of the above places was ever listed in my travel plan. Never had the slightest inclination to visit these places.

Glitz and glamour of this place starts the moment you land at the Dubai airport. Massive indoors waterfalls, long elevators, long conveyor belts; branded shops everything around was eye candy.

UAE consists only 19% of the original natives and the balance 81% consists of Indians, Pakistanis, Bangladeshis, Sri Lankan, Pilipino etc. all of them here for their share of bread and butter.

Apart from this economics got an experience to share. One evening was returning from Gold Souk – Deira to my hotel at Damascus Street, which is a good 20-25 minutes drive. I was waiting for a taxi on the pathway; you see all Asian faces and more of Keralites.

The place looks very familiar like any other city in India, especially Mumbai; but you not feel comfortable especially when alone. One is reminded constantly that it’s a place away from home.

I was trying to stop any taxi coming my way. A skinny looking person on the pathway would speak something to the taxi driver in Arabic and the taxi would go before I could board it. This was repeated 3-4 times. Fifth taxi halted and before he could say anything I gave a hard look and boarded the taxi.
As soon as I boarded this taxi I started getting some wrong vibes and feeling very restless. Though the taxi was a Toyota Camry and a spacious one I gathered myself in one corner timidly.
The interiors, the dashboard all looked so alien. The Arabic music gave go pleasure to my ears. The taxi driver was a middle-aged guy with a paunch and his body language read shabby. He started speaking Hindi in heavy Arabic accent.
First talking only to him in a loud voice then trying to belittle Indians by murmuring beneath his breath.

The discomfort was sensed instantaneously.

I let a few moments pass, and then started a conversation with him.

Me : Kaha ke ho??? (Where are you from??)

TD : Peshawar.

(God he is a Pakistani…what next)

Me : Oh Peshawar!!!!

TD : Ha ha Peshawar (yes yes Peshawar)

Me : Bahut acchi jagah hai Peshawar. (Peshawar is a nice place)

TD : Aap jante ho?? (U know the place??)

Me : Ha ha janti hoon ( yes yes, I know)

With this he started all the praises for his hometown, and I prayed that I reach the hotel safely, still feeling terribly uncomfortable

Me: Peshawari Khana bahut accha banta hai ( Peshawari delicacies are so great)

TD : Ha ha..bahut accha (ya ya very tasty)

Me : Aur Peshawari masalo ka swad tho lajawab ( and the spices of Peshawar at so unique)

TD : Aap jante ho??? (You know??) (A bit soft now)

Me : Ha ha jante hai (ya ya I know it)

Pause (??)

Me : Aap Peshawar mein Pashto bath karte ho na?? (You speak Pashto in Peshawar na??)

TD : (a bit surprised) ha Pashto bath karte hai, aap kaise jante ho???(Ya we speak Pashto, how do you know??)

Pause (??)

Me : Waha ek nadi bhi bhethi hai (a river also flows in Peshawar)
(This was a googly from my side)

TD : (now a more surprised) ha bheti hai, aap Peshawar aayee ho kai??? (ya a river flows there – have you been to Peshawar??)

Me : Ha ek baar mauka mila tha (ya once I had an opportunity)

The taxi driver by now was very very warm in his speech and was talking with a lot of respect. He was going non-stop about his homeland. I had to cut the distance I had no choice but to hear him. He still had the sharpness in his voice but this time a little milder.

TD : aap kise janti thi waha (whom did you know there??)

Without wasting a second I replied

Me : Benazir Bhutto!!!!

TD : kya??? (what??)

Me : (laughing) baas unhiko janti thi ab tho woh nahi rahi (Just knew her, now she is no more).

Then the taxi driver started showering loads of praises about her and the politics in Pakistan.
Started saying how he makes a living here and can give a decent life to his family, which he cant do in his country.

By now he had kept aside his Pakistani tag and was talking as one human being to another, which was more appreciated.
But I still sensed those wrong vibes

TD : Aaap Hindustani ho ke haamari muluq ki bare mein kitna jaanti ho, waha aaki bhi gayee ho…Aapko dekhne ka hamara nazariya badal gaya. (You are an Hindustani, you know so much about my land, You have visited my land, my view about you is changing)

His views were changing.
And mine were not. What was in his mind when I boarded his taxi I wondered? The city was in full glitter, high-end car moved around with ease, could see some villas outside, but still felt so insecure.

By now I could see my hotel and I was feeling slightly better.

As the taxi parked in the lobby and it was time to leave the taxi, the driver joined both his hands and asked for forgiveness saying, “ To be truthful I had ill feelings about you when you boarded the taxi I had not liked it, and above all you an Indian, please forgive me, but after talking to you my views have changed. We never are interested about India, but how much you know about our country, which even I don’t know, I feel ashamed. Mujhe maaf kar do. (Please forgive me)

Me : Don’t treat the next Indian who comes in your taxi like the way you did now. Pakistan has been a part of India, so when I knew you were from Pakistan, you were very much a part of our land, and I could be the safest in your taxi, as I know I am traveling with my brother. (Though filmy it was strong)

The taxi driver felt the blow and apologized frantically. I left the place gracefully thanking God, only to tell myself how scared I was.
After I retired to my room I reminisced the entire episode…

Neither had I been to Peshawar nor did I know Benazir Bhutto and nor was I familiar with their spices they used in their cooking.

All my virtual traveling and my reading helped me that day. The food I had in Sigree (which is a specialty restaurant in Pune, caters Pakistani delicacies and mention spices with every dish they offer) helped me to talk about spices, Shantaram - the book I read - described about the author’s journey via Peshawar to Afghanistan which helped me to narrate the topography of the place though I did not know which river flows there, and of course who else than Benazir Bhutto could be a strong female I could talk to portrait my strength and that I can face this situation?????

Always saw Pakistan from India….but this time the lens was wider and the picture somewhat un (?)clear

The next day met a Kashmiri…………. But this time the kaleidoscope gave me a different scene

Aman ki Asha…does it exists????????

(To be continued)

Miles away

I write now because i will be incommunicado for a while as i cover regions and countries and lakes and rivers and mountains and boundaries and languages and cultures and seas and temperaments and customs and class and history .

Within a span of hours thousands of years of life disappears underneath.

Not the speed of the passage. The passage of time and events.

Wish this happens more and more often, for more and more miles, as i leap more and more continents.

I will shortly race the clouds and flirt with the wind only to tell them that meet you soon on my return..................but just be there.........

Memories Unperished

Sometimes a thought or an old lost song sparks memories and takes us down the nostalgic lane.

What was it running bare feet in the scorching sun??? Or a thorn pricking in the feet??? Neither the prick was painful nor the scorching heat called sunstroke. Swimming for hours without caring for about the sun tan or red eyes after we came out of the water or diving deep down to remove a 10paise coin and teaching the siblings to swim like us.

A sneak in the neighbor’s garden to swipe mangoes and guavas. Get it home and tell mom that we got it for her so that she can make pickle and get a spanking of a lifetime because we stealed…. but it hardly hurt. The taste of the wild berries we could just gulp before washing them and thanked Mother Nature for giving this in abundance.

The great sense of achievement when we learnt to cycle by ourselves after falling and tripping so many times and then cycle all over the neighborhood from morning to late evening trying all sort of acrobats leaving your feet off the pedal and zoom down the steep slope was so brave a feeling. The adrenaline rushes when we took high swings and everything around looked small and cousins looking at us in awe.

Rainwater gutters, which overflowed during the rain and carried leaves, flowers, twigs and guppy fishes. To catch these guppy fishes was such a task and when accomplished, the guppies were prized assets.
Climbing the tallest trees and sitting on one of its branches with a small piece of chikki in sticky and soiled hands, tasted yum!! Chatting with the birds and then jumping from the branch and running behind the butterflies and keeping the glow worms in the match box were all tales of innocence…all this without a bandage on self was an incomplete picture.

Height of luxury??? Well two pillows in between the arms of chair and snug in your favorite godhadi (Cover), which could be made up of grandmother’s old cotton saris, which had all the warmth of the universe. Felt like an emperor on the throne. Wow!!! Simple pleasures of life.

The list would go on and nostalgia mixed with emotion would roll incessantly. Alas!!!! These are but thoughts now…………
And what transpired all this was one of my favorite ghazal


Yeh daulat bhi lelo, Yeh shoharat bhi lelo
Bhale cheen lo mujhse meri jawaani
Magar mujhko lautaado bachpan ka saawan
Wo kaagaz ki kashti, Woh baarish ka pani

Muhalle ki sabse nishaani purani
Wo budhiyaa jise bachche kahete the nani
Wo nani ki baaton mein pariyon kaa deraa
Wo chahere ki jhuriyon mein sadiyon ka pheraa
Bhulaae nahin bhool saktaa hai koi
Wo choti si raatein Wo lambi kahaani

Kadi dhoop mein apne ghar se nikalna
Wo chidiyaa Wo bulbul Wo titalii pakadana
Wo gudiyaa ki shaadi mein ladna jhagadanaa
Wo jhoolon se girana Wo gir ke sambhalanaa
Wo piital ke chhallon ke pyaare se tohafe
Wo tooti hui chudiyon ki nishaani

Kabhi ret ke unche tiilon pe jaanaa
Gharaunde banaana banaake mitaanaa
Wo masoom chahat ki tasveer apni
Wo kwaabon khayalon ki jaagir apni
Na duniyaa kaa gham tha na rishton ke bandhan
Badi khoobsurat thi Wo Zindagaanii

Once a child was asked, ‘ Child how would you like to travel? A bike, a car, a ship or an aero plane??” The child without a blink said at my mothers hip…

How much ever we grow we always long to be small……….