Gul Gulshan Gulfam Read online

  Noor Mohammad did not deem it proper to give any reply to his mother, and Malla Khaliq, too, ended the argument there.

  Malla Khaliq had brought home Razaq from the streets. One day, he had gone to Narayan Joo’s travel agency on Kothi Bagh street to find out when he was to return from Bombay. There he caught sight of Razaq who was imploring Narayan Joo’s manager for a job. Mohammad Sidique, the manager, was a God-fearing man who was always ready to help the needy. But he was helpless as tourism that season had been badly hit by the turmoil in Punjab. There was hardly any work to do – how could he provide this poor fellow with a job?

  ‘Please make him understand,’ Mohammad Sidique said to Malla Khaliq who was sitting there, so that he could be saved from the obstinate boy’s pleading. ‘I don’t even have a little space to shelter anyone here, how can I offer him a job!’

  But Razaq started crying piteously and this melted Malla Khaliq’s heart. He cast a deep look at Razaq. He saw honesty in the boy’s wet eyes. Without asking him anything, he said to Razaq, ‘My dear son, wait in the adjacent room. Let us see what destiny has allotted to you.’

  Razaq offered his salaam to Mohammad Sidique and went to the waiting room. Mohammad Sidique turned to Malla Khaliq. ‘He seems to be a gentle boy. But I’m helpless. If the Pandit Sahib were here, he could have engaged him in some of his orchards.’

  ‘You still have not told me when he is to return.’

  ‘After a week or so. You should have received his letter.’

  ‘Yes. But he hasn’t mentioned any dates.’

  ‘Has he mentioned anything about the situation in Punjab?’

  ‘Yes, he says that the turmoil has abated to a large extent and he expects a good season of tourists this year.’

  ‘Oh, would our benevolent saint, Peer Dastgir, heed our call.’

  Saying ‘Amin!’ Malla Khaliq took his leave. As he walked towards the door, Mohammad Sidique told him, ‘Appoint the boy only after carefully assessing him.’

  Malla Khaliq’s experience spanned over seventy years. He had assessed Razaq with just one look at him. He brought the boy to his houseboats.

  It had been two weeks since and Razaq had been serving at their house. Malla Khaliq’s wife was yet to approve of this boy and Ghulam Ahmed disapproved of every decision his father took. As far as his third son, Ghulam Qadir, was concerned, he considered every person other than himself, particularly the servants, nothing but offal.

  The three daughters-in-law were happy that there was someone in the house to help them with washing the utensils. Parveen was happy to have found someone to carry out her orders. She even took pity on the boy when any member of the family addressed him with a volley of abuses.

  Squatting under the shade of the willow tree that grew in the lawn of the little isle just outside the pantry, Malla Khaliq was enjoying his hookah. Noor Mohammad and Ghulam Ahmed were also there, basking in the warm spring sunshine. Their nap was disturbed by Zoon’s shrill voice. ‘Why are you idling there, Razaq? Don’t you see a heap of utensils lying there to be washed?’ Hearing this, Razaq ran to the pantry.

  Malla Khaliq was outraged, and told Ghulam Ahmed, ‘When will you teach this haughty woman some manners?’ Ghulam Ahmed turned his head away as he had nothing to say in response. Zoon was the daughter of a wealthy man. Ahmed was always under the burden of his debts. He scowled at Razaq who had put all the unwashed utensils in a basket made of steel mesh, and was walking towards the water tap outside the kitchen.

  When Malla Khaliq had smoked all the tobacco in the chilam of his hookah and the chilam itself had turned hot with cinders, Noor Mohammad walked up to him.

  He sat next to Malla Khaliq and took out a letter he had received from the bank. Opening the letter, he asked his father, ‘What should our reply to this letter be? We failed to repay the instalment yet again, and if it continues this way, they may confiscate our new houseboat.’

  Ahmed grabbed this opportunity to rebuke his father. ‘I think that time is already in the offing. Why can’t we discern the exigency of the time? Had we invested the same money in some other business, we would have doubled it by now. We were so quick to change the matting of this new houseboat, Gulshan, as though there were tourists queuing up to stay in it. There was nothing wrong with the old carpets. How can we rely on this tourism business? We should have abjured this old occupation, and settled somewhere on land to start a new career. We should have been wise enough to ape others.’

  ‘They have been unfaithful to the waters of this lake. They do not know that the sweat of their forefathers is mingled this water,’ Malla Khaliq retorted in his rage.

  ‘Abba, water is after all water, always there to change its ways. It has no solid basis. I think we must consider better options.’

  While Ghulam Ahmed continued, Malla Khaliq’s hookah-puffing became faster and faster. When he lost control, he kept his hookah aside and stood up. His face looked like a bowl of burning cinders and he roared, ‘Are you telling me that the legacy of Khizr and Noah is an idle pursuit? Do you mean to say that we too should indulge in accruing illicit wealth like others who have settled on land? I am not so foolish that I don’t understand who is behind this Satan’s brain of yours.’

  Hearing her husband’s angry voice, Aziz Dyad came out of the room. Zoon, Mukhta, and Zeb watched from behind the door. Parveen, who was placing the washed utensils in the basket, stood up and ran to her mother. Noor Mohammad doused the fire of this perpetual dispute between father and son.

  ‘Now end this shouting, Abba. See how terrified Amma stands there.’

  But the spark had started a wildfire and it would not be extinguished easily.

  ‘How dare he brag like that! I am well aware of the people who are misguiding him.’

  ‘No one on this earth can mislead Ghulam Ahmed. Yet if you think I have no right to utter a word in this house, then hang me.’

  Aziz Dyad rushed to her husband. ‘What has happened to you all? What kind of rivalry is this? I cannot understand what estates are to be divided among you. I have been watching both of you seeking excuses to quarrel with each other.’

  ‘Ask this darling son of yours. He tells me to auction the heritage of our forefathers and, like his father-in-law, seek lodging in a stranger’s house.’

  Zoon, who had been silently listening to all this, now came out and argued with her father-in-law. ‘Abba! His father-in-law owns as many as four bungalows; who says he lodges himself in others’ houses?’

  This made Ahmed angry with his wife. ‘Shut up! Who has taught you to meddle in the affairs of men?’ Zoon was about to retort, but Ahmed cut her off saying, ‘Go in! I am warning you. Don’t you hear me?’

  Parveen dashed to her brothers, pointing towards a speeding boat. ‘Will you please stop it now? Look, Qadir is escorting someone here in that boat there.’

  They stared at the boat approaching the landing ghat. Aziz Dyad turned to Malla Khaliq and said, ‘See how this vagabond son of yours is bringing us the very first tourist of the season, and that too a firangi memsahib.’ She looked at Ahmed next as her statement was also directed at him. Parveen hurried to the anchor end of the houseboat Gulshan which was assigned to Qadir by his father. Qadir’s wife, Zeb, too rushed to Parveen to watch the approaching boat. But when she saw Qadir jumping out to the anchor end of the boat and stretching his hand out to help the mem, her heart sank. An autumnal pallor overtook her face. She caught Parveen’s hand, held it tightly, and whispered to her, ‘This is the same wretched and shameless Jane who came last year. Isn’t it her?’

  Parveen, too, recognized the lady. ‘Couldn’t my brother find anyone else other than this she-monkey?’

  Jane stood on the porch of Gulshan. Looking all around, she stretched herself, making her ample bosom more pronounced.

  Qadir, who was retrieving Jane’s suitcase, moistened his lips and remained transfixed, watching Jane’s enticing stretch. She took a deep breath inhaling the air of the Dal Lake. ‘Oh, how soothing
!’

  In the meantime, Malla Khaliq reached Gulshan. While Jane was about to enter the houseboat, she saw him and waved to him in greeting. ‘Hi Haji Sahib! See I’m back! Everything okay?’

  Malla Khaliq did not like Jane’s demeanour, but could not do anything; she was a guest after all. He responded to her greetings half-heartedly, ‘Yes, by God’s grace.’

  Qadir came out of the houseboat and said to Jane, ‘All set!’ Jane went into the houseboat and Qadir followed her.

  Malla Khaliq started ambling back towards the isle when Qadir came running to him and took out a bundle of ten thousand rupees from his pocket and put it in his father’s coat pocket. Malla Khaliq looked at him in amazement. ‘What is this?’

  ‘Ten thousand rupees exactly. This is the advance tariff from this mem. She is staying here for three full months. She will pay twenty thousand more tomorrow.’

  Malla Khaliq had been averse to hosting Jane even last year. But he could not help it, for all tourists cannot be to one’s liking. The repeated reminders from the bank about the loan did not make it easier either. He thought that God had ultimately come to know about his financial compulsions and sent this Mem. He asked Qadir, ‘Had she informed you about her arrival that you went to the airport to receive her?’

  ‘Oh no, Abba. It was Ghulama of Malla Subhan who had told me that a big party of tourists was expected. That is why I went to the airport to see if our destiny was to have something good for us. There I met Jane.’

  On observing a deep crease appear on his father’s forehead, Qadir changed the subject. ‘Abba, if you allow me, I will instruct Razaq to attend to Jane.’

  ‘As you wish.’

  Zeb had been hiding behind the willow grove observing all this. As soon as Malla Khaliq was near her, she said to him, ‘Abba, this Mem is not a good woman. I entreat you that she not be provided with lodging in our houseboat. She will pollute the boat. Please return the money to her.’

  Aziz Dyad heard this, and came out and said to Zeb, ‘What nonsense are you talking? Don’t jinx this! Should we reject and turn away the very first tourist of the season? Come in, it is already teatime. Come in.’ Zeb cast a piteous glance at Malla Khaliq and followed her mother-in-law to the pantry.

  Malla Khaliq called Razaq who had engaged himself wholeheartedly in cleaning the houseboat. He dropped his brush in the tub and came running. Malla Khaliq told him, ‘Listen! As long as this Mem is here with us, you will work in Qadir Sahib’s boat, Gulshan. But I warn you, be careful. I should not hear any complaint against you. Do you understand?’

  ‘Yes, sir.’ Saying this Razaq walked towards Gulshan. As he was about the step up to the porch of the houseboat, Qadir, who was paying the shikaarahwala, asked him angrily, ‘What the hell are you going to do there? Come here and carry the rest of the luggage inside.’

  Razaq stood stunned. Qadir shouted at him again, ‘Are you deaf? Don’t you hear what I said?’ Hearing this, Razaq went running and started carrying Jane’s belongings one by one. Qadir lashed out at Razaq again, ‘Are you paralyzed? Don’t you have the energy to take everything in one go?’

  ‘I was wondering, where exactly should I place all—’

  ‘What a blockhead of a servant our Abba has appointed! Go and keep everything in the circular room, I mean in the drawing room. Do you follow me?’

  ‘Yes, sir.’

  Malla Khaliq entered the doonga, the small kitchen-boat, and handed over the bundle of ten thousand rupees to Aziz Dyad who was busy tidying clothes in the cupboard. Taking the money from her husband, she asked him, ‘What am I supposed to do with this money?’

  ‘You just keep it. He says that this Mem will pay us twenty thousand more tomorrow. If she does so, I will go to the bank the day after tomorrow and deposit the loan instalment that is overdue.’

  ‘And what will you expend on the Mem’s food?

  ‘You need not worry about that. I have reserved some money that will last more than a week. Narayan Joo shall return in the meantime and I am sure he must have arranged some business for us.’ Saying this Malla Khaliq propped himself against a pillow, and after a little reflection, added, ‘I wonder why Zeb asked me not to house this Mem in the houseboat.’

  ‘She is a child after all. She must be worried that the Mem might seduce her husband.’

  Malla Khaliq heaved a deep sigh. ‘I do not know why I too was not pleased to see this firangi girl. She was here only a few months ago. I wonder what made her return so soon.’

  ‘Do not house baseless premonitions in your mind. Why should we bother about that? This Zeb of ours is apprehensive and suspicious by nature. If she could have her way, she would not allow Qadir to speak even to her sisters-in-law.’

  Malla Khaliq stopped there. ‘All right, hand over the hookah to me.’

  Parveen stepped inside Zeb’s room. She found her sitting woefully in a corner. Parveen sat beside her and, laying her hand on her shoulder, tried to reassure her. ‘Do not be so scared, my darling sister. If this Jane tries to spread her snare again as she did last year, I will drag her by her hair and throw her in the drain behind the mire.’

  ‘This Mem is not to be blamed for anything. The fault lies in your brother. He neglects all the important chores of the house, but never fails to follow her wherever she goes.’

  ‘But I can’t advise him on such issues. I am younger to him after all.’

  ‘I know. I don’t want you to get involved.’

  ‘If Abba was not so short on money, he would have never allowed her to step on our lawn, not to mention the houseboat.’

  ‘When one’s destiny has been decided, how can one blame others?’

  ‘Allah shall protect you. You need not worry. Come, sit here. Let us watch what this she-monkey is doing.’

  ‘No, I don’t want to see her face, but please be careful not to say anything blunt to this whore. Your brother will be angry.’

  ‘Don’t worry, I won’t even spit on her.’

  It was already time for the afternoon prayers. Parveen quietly retreated when she saw Malla Khaliq offering his nimaz in the willow copse. She saw Razaq prostrating after him. Watching Razaq’s elegance, she stood motionless for a moment. When Malla Khaliq turned his head side to side in salaam. Parveen suddenly felt as if she had been caught committing a crime. She quickly ran away to the pantry.

  Malla Khaliq was still squatting in prayer, when a shikaarah stopped near the outer trellis of Gul. A tall man, dressed in a Jodhpuri suit, stepped out from the shikaarah. He was Narayan Joo, the proprietor of Kashmir Travel Agency. He was a few years younger to Malla Khaliq.

  Narayan Joo’s father, Madhav Kaul, earlier lived on the right bank of the river Vyeth, known to the world as the river Jhelum; the lifeline of the Kashmir valley, on whose banks lies the city of Srinagar. Madhav Kaul’s three-storey house was on the water-front and down below Malla Khaliq’s father Samad Haji’s barge was anchored in the river.

  Narayan Joo was born a couple of years after Malla Khaliq. The two grew up together, spending their days on the riverbank playing hopscotch. It was Malla Khaliq who taught Narayan Joo how to swim. Malla Khaliq’s mother, Maal Dyad, always visited Narayan Joo’s mother, Dyaka Dyad, to seek her counsel on various household matters. Seeing the friendship between the two women, Malla Samad and Madhav Kaul also developed a close bond. There was another reason for their friendship. Khaliq’s father was a God-fearing man, who could recite a large number of mystic poems of the Muslim saint poets of Kashmir, which he would recite with a purity of heart. This bridged the gap in their monetary status.

  Madhav Kaul initially worked with Cock Burn’s Travel Agency, but when the first German war began, the agency was closed. Madhav Kaul then established his own travel agency which he named Kashmir Travel Agency. God helped him and his agency prospered at the end of the war, when his business expanded.

  Thus Madhav Kaul became a big businessman, by local standards. Having disposed of his house in the old city, he shifted to Wazir B
agh in the new city. This separation was very painful for the two friends, but it did not last very long. Madhav Kaul advised Samad Haji to try his luck, too, in business. In the beginning, he was not strong enough to withstand the stress, but gradually he agreed to shift his barge from the old city to Gagribal in the Dal Lake, where the houseboats had started to do good business. Madhav Kaul used his clout in getting Samad Haji to erect a houseboat in the lake. That was how Gul came into existence.

  Madhav Kaul sent Narayan to Bisco School which taught its students swimming and boating. This helped him develop a kinship with the waters of the Dal Lake. Narayan Joo and Malla Khaliq grew up, got married and became fathers themselves. Time’s merciless wings snatched away their fathers from them and placed the burden of their families on their shoulders. They witnessed many changes in their lives. The changes in prosperity, adversities, nothing affected their friendship.

  The Second World War was a boon to those who were connected with tourism. Narayan Joo remained engaged in booking accommodation for Western tourists, mostly comprising British soldiers who preferred to spend their furloughs in Kashmir than other resorts, and Malla Khaliq was there to extend his hospitality to them. The business expanded so fast that Malla Khaliq, like many other houseboat owners, had to construct his second houseboat – Gulshan.

  Time flowed fast as a river of no return. The war ended. The surge of tourists waned. The freedom struggle of the country culminated in the independence of the country whose outcome was the Partition. The upheaval of 1947 that followed. It was the beginning of a very dark period for Kashmir. Pakistan sent hordes of savage tribesmen followed by its soldiers to capture Kashmir by force. All the routes were blocked. And with this, the whole tourism business collapsed. But even in that terrible crisis, the two childhood friends stood by each other.

  Thus the times took a new turn. The frost thawed and spring filled the gardens with fresh flowers. New avenues opened and the joint business of Narayan Joo and Malla Khaliq flourished again. On his son Vijay Kumar’s suggestion, Narayan Joo established an office of his travel agency in Bombay to attract visitors from other parts of the country, that way they would not have to depend only on foreigners. Since Narayan Joo’s spouse Leelavati passed away, he spent the six winter months away from Kashmir with his son. He not only looked after the business there but also arranged for tourist parties for Malla Khaliq’s houseboats. Thus with time, the number of tourists to this paradise on earth increased year after year. Even the forbidden land of Ladakh was opened to tourists which gave tourism a further fillip.