Tales From Birehra
(Extracts)
Located on the southern tip of a two-mile-long dirt track was Birehra, a small, dusty village in northern India, whose population had stood at around 500, plus or minus a few souls, for over the past century. Those were the days when there were no radios in Birehra. There was only one country outside India, and that was Vilayat, or “the Foreign Land.”
There was nothing significant about Birehra that people could care for. The northern end of the track was connected to an old bitumen road, with cracks and potholes, worn out due to years of neglect. The road was mostly occupied by bullock carts loaded with bales of hay. The sleepy bullocks chewed their cud and announced their presence by the dull sound of the bells around their necks as they pulled their carts at a snail’s pace. They continued on their familiar path with no need of driving instructions. Their drivers napped on top of the hay, getting down from time to time to urinate by the roadside.
*****
Deep down, Phagna was a lonely man. He had no friends around him, just scared people who came to him only when they had sore backs. He felt that his heart was like the endless dunes, with blowing sand and blazing sun, in which deadly scorpions clung to his bruised self-esteem. He often saw himself laughing and at peace with himself, but that was only in his dreams. When he woke up, his aspirations were swept away like a dried bush rolling in the desert wind. He longed for a friend with whom he could share his heartache, but did not have courage to break the shell that he had built around himself.
As night approached, the sounds of Birehra became muffled. The farmers were back from their fields, the cattle tied to their posts, the chicken put in their coops, and birds rested quietly in the trees. The street in front of Khansab’s home and the alleys of Birehra were shrouded in darkness. The only sound that broke the pitch-dark silence was the song of a chirping cricket. Even on those dark, quiet nights, someone at the other end of the alley could still see the faint glow from the lantern hanging under Phagna’s shed. One could not see anyone in the dark, but every gust of cool night breeze coming from that direction brought a faint sound of laughter with it.
Then came the time when the mustard crop filled the entire field with yellow blossoms. A bright yellow carpet was spread as far as the eye could see. Peacocks called their mates, and their pee-hoo could be heard for miles. Cows mooed, roosters crowed, birds chirped, nightingales sang, and donkeys brayed. The village was full of sounds and sights. There was hardly a moment when one did not hear one sound or another. There was no room for loneliness. How could one be lonely when there was so much life around him?
Birehra was a timeless globe. Nights followed days and days followed nights, but time stood still. There was no past and no future. There were births and deaths, love and betrayal, fights and reconciliations, but every event occurred in the eternal present.
*****
There was no doubt about the piety and scholarship of Hasan Khan, who had even been to Mecca for Hajj several times. On one of his trips, he had received a gold watch from King Saud! What happened was that, as he was coming out of the Grand Mosque after completing his seven circles around the Kaaba, he was stopped at the gate, while a huge crowd tried to get in. As he made his way out, he suddenly found himself face to face with the king, who was entering the mosque, surrounded by security guards-who were pushing people aside to make way for the king. Hasan Khan extended his arm to the king, and the king shook it! A servant, who was carrying a bag, pulled out a gold watch from it and presented it to Hasan Khan, who accepted it graciously. The king moved on.
When Hasan Khan came back from the pilgrimage, his encounter with the king became the major story in Birehra. When people came to greet him on his safe return from the trip, he showed them the watch, and they all kissed it, After all, it had come from a holy place. They also received sandalwood rosaries that he had bought for them just outside the Grand Mosque. At the head of each rosary was a piece of sandalwood, fitted with a cylindrical piece of glass. When they peeked into it, they were amazed to see the life-size picture of the Kaaba in it. The scene was so realistic that they felt as if they were standing in front of the Kaaba. The inscription under the picture said, “Made in Japan.”
*****
The news of reconciliation spread fast, and people came out to witness Preeti’s send-off. Men, women, and children were lined up on both sides of the street. Many women stood on their rooftops and watched as Preeti’s bridal carriage started moving. Pratap and his sons walked behind the cart. They were accompanied by Khansab and Baldev, who escorted them to the edge of the village. The crowd followed them. When they stopped to say goodbye, Khansab stood for some time, and when Pratap’s party was at some distance, he shouted: “Rai Bahadur Pratap Singh!” His voice boomed throughout the village. Pratap turned his face to listen to Khansab.
“Just remember, that if anyone touches even Preeti’s hair, I will descend on your village like a hawk with 5000 Pathans, and when I am finished, not even a dog in your village will breathe!”
A hush fell over the spectators, and it seemed as if they had stopped breathing! A Pathan had challenged a Rajput, and they waited silently for the consequence. The air stood still. Not a leaf moved in a tree nor a bird chirped. The world came to a halt as people waited in suspense! Pratap walked back slowly until he stood in front of Khansab. He looked straight into Khansab’s eyes and smiled. “I have already apologized,” he said in almost a whisper. “What do you want me to do, put my turban on your feet?” he took off his turban, and as he bent forward, Khansab put his hands under Pratap’s arms and pulled him up.
“No, I just wanted to remind you,” Khansab replied as he took Pratap’s turban and put it back on his head.
“I assure you that Preeti will sleep on nothing but a bed of roses in my home.”
As Pratap walked back to the carriage, people gave a sigh of relief and praised Khansab’s wisdom. Someone shouted: “Khansab ki!” and the crowd responded with “Jai ho!” It was a prayer for Khansab to be always victorious. The air was filled with the sound of Jai ho; it could be heard in the entire village. Khansab ki, Jai ho! Khansab ki, Jai ho!
The story of Khansab’s valour and his confrontation with an army of 500 lathi fighters single-handedly, was going to be told generation after generation, with a bit more spice and a bit more exaggeration each time, until it would become part of the folklore of Birehra!
*****
Noor Khan, who suffered from chronic insomnia, was the first one to hear the announcement. He ran out of his house in panic and went from house to house, knocking on doors and warning his relatives that the rioters were coming. Men came out, half-asleep, and when they found out what the problem was, they were wide-awake. Fear gripped their senses as they ran amok in the alley, knocking on doors. Every gust of wind from the fields brought the message-Charhai ho rahi hai-and their panic grew.
“Who could have thought that we would have a situation like this in Birehra?” asked Zakaria Khan.
“We don’t have time to think,” replied Noor Khan. “Let us prepare to defend ourselves.”“What do you suggest? I don’t have a gun,”
“Let us not waste time. Let us gather whatever we have: sticks, knives, guns, whatever.”
“It is important to stay calm,” suggested Hasan Khan. “Go back and get your families. Let us all gather in the mahal. It is secure.”
Hasan Khan was referring to his residence, which was built like a fortress with walls over thirty feet high. Everyone agreed with his suggestion. Khansab sped to his home and woke Chhoti Begum and Nanijan up.
“Is everything all right?” asked Chhoti Begum.
“We are under attack. The rioters are coming.”
“Oh God! The rioters are coming?” She got up with a start and ran to pick up Azad. Khansab asked her to get her jewellery box, since that was her most valuable possession. He picked up Azad and put him on his shoulder. They came out in the empty street. The night was so silent that not even a cricket chirped. As they ran through the darkness, Azad woke up and could not understand the situation. He was overcome by intense fear when he found that someone was running, carrying him on his shoulder. He started crying bitterly. Khansab pulled him away from his shoulder and put his hand on Azad’s mouth to muffle his crying. Who knew where the attackers were hiding in that darkness? He did not want to alert them. Azad squirmed against Khansab and became hysterical.
*****
Nanijan’s prayers were always answered since she had a special relationship with God. Sometimes, Azad thought that God had His ears tuned to her all the time to make sure that He did not miss any of her wishes! Why not? he thought. Nanijan is such a nice person. She treats everyone with love and helps everybody. No wonder God cares so much for her! She always spoke to Azad in whispers, while teaching him a new prayer or telling him a bedtime story. He lay with his eyes closed and his head on her shoulder as she combed his hair gently with her fingers. He wanted to keep listening to her but could not keep his eyes open. Her words seemed to be coming from far away.
*****
Nanijan will not let that day ever, ever come, he thought. When God orders the angel Israfel to blow his horn, Nanijan will start praying, and God will have to take His orders back. He was satisfied for a moment, and closed his eyes, hoping that he would fall asleep, but a new fear crept in. What will happen if Nanijan dies before that day? I hope it does not happen. I hope she lives forever. He felt like choking with grief as he flung his arm around her neck and moved closer to her.
“Look Nanijan, the angels shot another arrow at Satan!” Azad whispered when he saw a shooting star. She mumbled something, and he knew that she had fallen asleep.
“One twinkling star ... two twinkling stars ... three twinkling stars ...”
He usually succumbed to deep sleep before reaching the twelfth twinkling star.