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Stories
A Hope
by
Arya Bhushan
It
was the Christmas of 1950. Suresh had been asked to come to Amritsar.
His father had called him to settle certain affairs, connected with the
claims for family land and property left in Pakistan when the country
was partitioned in 1947. There was a heavy rush in the trains those
days, and to get good accommodation, one had to reach the railway
station early. Suresh was lucky and managed to get a full berth to
himself. Thank God! He would now be able to get a good night's rest. He
spread his sleeping bag on the berth and then took a stroll on the
platform to find out if someone known to him was traveling and with whom
he could chat for a while. Finding no one, he returned to his
compartment to retire, and was soon in deep slumber.
Suddenly he woke up and noticed that it was broad daylight. The train
had stopped at a small station and a porter was trying to wake him up
saying, “Wake up sir, wake up, it is Atari.”
“Oh, Atari! I had to go to Amritsar,” he said.
“Amritsar! The train passed that station early in the morning. It
reached Atari also a considerable while ago.”
Suresh got up at once. With eyes wide open he saw that it was true. All
the passengers had gotten off, and he was the only one left in the
compartment. He looked out of the window and noticed a low platform with
a big conspicuous name board 'ATARI'.
“All right,” he told the porter, “take me to the train that is going to
Amritsar at this time.”
“Well sir, there is no train to Amritsar at this time. This very train
will leave for Amritsar in the evening.”
“O.K. Let's go to the waiting room, then.”
“Oh sir, there is no waiting room. either, here. It is just a small
station. Only on account of the formation of Pakistan, the station got
its importance. Otherwise who would have come to stop here?”
“Of course, that is true.” Suresh wondered, how he kept sleeping, and
thus unnecessarily wasted his day. Any way, what should he do now? There
seemed to be no other alternative except to stop here. But to idle away
his time like this would be meaningless. Why should he not make use of
the time, by going to Lahore in Pakistan and meeting some of his
friends? It is long that he had met them. There was a time when he would
become restless in a few days, if he did not see his friend bhaijan
(dear brother) Hanafi or bhai (brother) Ali. And now with the formation
of Pakistan, they had not met for a long time. Years had passed and they
had not even heard from each other; meeting them was quite a different
affair.
Oh how pitiable it was, when friends who were like brothers could not
even see each other, only because they had been forced to live in
separate countries, India and Pakistan. “Oh God!” he thought, “May be
some day our sons might form a 'Son-istan' or our wives a “Wife-istan'.
We will, then have to go on with our lives without seeing them. Oh no!
my friends, whether in India or in Pakistan, I cannot bear not to meet
you.” He wondered whether a divine power was taking him towards his
friends. Or else, why should he have kept sleeping at Amritsar and
reached Atari? “Oh, today, I must meet you and eat the delicacies
prepared by 'Bhabhi jan' (friend's wife) and the chicken cooked by
Maqbool (cook).” Recollecting those good old days, Suresh made up his
mind to visit Lahore.
He got off the train, and with the help of the porter, took his luggage
to the Bus Depot. There was a bus ready to leave for Lahore. He asked
the driver if he could get the front seat. Oh for sure, but he would
have to pay four rupees for it and an additional eight annas as
non-Muslim tax.” (Eight annas is equivalent to half a Rupee.)
“What is this non-Muslim tax?” Suresh inquired.
“Well! In Pakistan the lives of non-Muslims remain in danger, and for
their safety, the government has to employ a lot of army and police. The
non-Muslims must, therefore, pay for their safety. That is the
non-Muslim tax.”
Suresh felt a little scared on hearing this and questioned the
advisability of his trip. Should he continue this madness? Why should he
get into all this confusion? Yet the desire to meet his friends was so
great that it overcame his caution. He said to himself, “All right, let
me pay these eight annas also. I do hope that after paying this sum, I
will be safe.”
He got into the front seat and the bus started on its journey soon
after. Having traveled some distance, he noticed a barbed-wire fence,
and a gate. He also saw the Pakistani and Indian soldiers stationed on
either side of it. This was the man made, un-natural boundary between
the two countries. Or was it a crack in the hearts of two brothers? On
the other side of the fence was Pakistan. He entered the territory after
a thorough check up at the customs office. The bus resumed its journey.
Suresh saw that there was no difference on either side. The same fertile
lands; the same types of fields, flowers, and leaves; the same bright
sun, the same blue sky, the same types of trees, plants and shrubbery,
and the same mother earth. The types of villages and settlements were
similar, some brick houses, some mud houses; rivers, rivulets and
hillocks. Women were taking meals to the men-folk, and the men were
working hard to produce food for others. There were cows grazing, and
buffaloes roaming. Beautiful faces, ugly faces; healthy people, sick
people; old men, young men, and children. Everything was virtually the
same. If there was any difference, it was in the uniforms of the
soldiers, who wore green dresses with the moon and the star as their
insignia.
These soldiers glared at him as if questioning, how could this 'non-Paki
kafir' enter the 'land of the pure' (Pakistan). Suresh felt extremely
sleepy but the attitude of the soldiers was so threatening that it gave
him the message, “If you sleep, we will see to it that you die.” With
great difficulty, he was able to keep himself awake. He, however, felt a
little assured that he had paid eight annas for his safety. Some of the
tax money must have gone to these soldiers too, and surely they will not
be ungrateful.
After what appeared to be a long time, the bus reached Lahore. Here also
there appeared to be some trouble. As passengers started coming out of
the bus, there was checking of their passports and permits. Suresh had
no passport or permit. He had no idea of coming to Lahore; nor was he
aware that a permit was necessary to enter what was his own country, and
the place of his birth. He had no idea about these new requirements. He
had never come to Lahore after the formation of Pakistan. He thought of
it at the last moment to see his dear friends. Now what should he do?
“Where is your permit?” asked the person checking.
“I don't have any permit.” was Suresh's reply.
“Why did you come without a permit?”
“To meet my friends. Prior to this I never needed any permit to come
here.”
“Oh that was another matter. After formation of Pakistan, no foreigner
can enter Pakistan without a permit”.
“How does one get a permit? Does one have to become pure to enter 'the
land of the pure' (Pakistan)? Is everyone who lives in Pakistan truly
pure? And how does one become truly pure?”
“Oh shut up! You seem to be an enemy.”
“Enemy ? What enemy?”
“Oh, India. Every Indian is an enemy of Pakistan.”
“But India does not consider Pakistan to be its enemy. India considers
it to be it's friend.”
“Hey, if you talk like that you will have to face grave consequences.”
“Why is it wrong to speak what one feels to be the truth.”
This enraged the person and he shouted, “Enemy! Here is an enemy spy.”
At once a soldier came running and as soon as he whistled, quite a
contingent of soldiers gathered. The officer of the group shouted
saying, “Where is the enemy”
The permit checker pointed towards Suresh and said, “Here is the Kafir.
Here. He says India and Pakistan are friends, and is spreading doubt and
trouble.”
“Oh is that so? Then catch him and shoot him.”
Then he ordered one of his soldiers to make Suresh stand against the
wall and another to aim and shoot. Immediately the order was obeyed. The
soldier aimed and put his finger to the trigger. Suresh was thinking of
the calamity he had brought upon himself just for nothing. It would have
been better if he had stopped at Atari for the whole day. “Is that the
punishment one gets for his desire to meet friends? Is that justice?” He
said to himself, “Oh God, why should it be so?”
“Fire!” the officer ordered and the soldier immediately opened fire ---
“Bang!” But Suresh continued standing without being hit. Of course there
was the noise. Everyone heard the bang. Did the soldier miss his aim?
The officer immediately ordered another soldier to fire. Once again the
firing was repeated but Suresh was still standing alive. How is it? What
is it? Did the second soldier miss his mark too? The officer was now
really enraged and ordered the whole troop to aim and fire. At once they
all pointed their guns at Suresh and again there was a big roar in the
air --- “Bang!”, “Bang!”, “Bang!”. It was a miracle that Suresh remained
unscathed. It had never happened before. So many people shot at the same
time at an unarmed person, and he was still alive! Suresh was amazed and
started thinking. Everything that happened was so strange, so amazing!
He overslept and reached Atari instead of Amritsar. Then so many people
firing at him simultaneously and missing him. Could it be a divine
providence? Again he thought of that mysterious power which makes our
destiny. Is there some hidden motive behind all this? He thought of his
deep desire that India and Pakistan should again join together and
become one country. When Pakistan was formed, how his heart was broken
and how often he had prayed that they should become one again. Was it
the result of his prayers that God had selected him as a messenger of
Peace. Was it on that account that he became immune to the bullets. Or
else how could he, with so many people firing at him, be saved?
So he said to himself, “I will meet Bhaijan and others later. First let
me follow the divine command.” And then he addressed the officer, “Oh
ignorant officer! You wanted to kill me but the divine plan was
otherwise. God has sent me to show light to you all, who have lost their
way and are going in the wrong direction. Instead of following the path
of God, why should so many people have taken to violence and become
savages, cutting each other's throats. Do you think only the Muslims are
the sons of God. Aren't the Hindus, whom you consider your enemies, not
created by the same 'Allah'? If they are, how can Allah, our heavenly
father feel happy or satisfied when some of his children are cutting
each other’s throats? Why are you after the blood of others and thus
getting away farther and farther from our Allah? Hasn't such savagery
affected people on both sides? Has not there been a blood bath
everywhere? Were innocent women raped or innocent children massacred
only by members of one community. People feel angry that the other side
also is acting similarly. But can two wrongs make one right. No! Never!
If it can be set right, it is only through mutual love and
consideration. Some people, for their personal gain and power, created
all this trouble and hatred. Innocent people got misled and suffer the
most. Those few people are enjoying their power. And what did poor
public get? Only lot of bloodshed, mutual distrust and hostility
resulted. Those, whom you considered your neighbors, friends, and
brothers and who were always with you in your joys and sorrows became
your staunch enemies, and for them you developed hatred, distrust, and
fear. To remove that hatred, distrust and fear, and to sow the seed of
love and friendship, Allah has sent me to you. So wake up oh children of
God and unite again. By joining me in this good mission you will please
God. Let us all raise our voice together for that unity.”
The officer was already under the spell of Suresh on account of the
miracle he had witnessed, in Suresh being alive and unhurt despite so
many firing at him. So he saw no reason to doubt Suresh's statement, and
joined him in shouting the slogan, “Hail to the unity of India and
Pakistan.” The people and the army contingent together shouted, “Hail to
the unity of India and Pakistan.”
Everyone joined and formed a procession. They marched ahead with the
mission to unite India and Pakistan, to reunite and revive old
friendships. As the procession marched ahead, the momentum and the
enthusiasm of the crowd also increased. Old sentiments were getting
revived. Each and everyone wanted to end the years of bitterness so they
could all progress in peace. They were all proceeding to unite the
divided people and remove the walls created between them. Amongst this
great enthusiasm, there was a very loud cry, “Hail to the unity of India
and Pakistan.” This loud shouting shook up Suresh, who got up with a
jerk and heard, “This is Amritsar. Please wake up.”
So all this was a dream. “But how beautiful this dream was? How I wish
this could become true? And why not? The morning dreams often do get
fulfilled.” Suresh pondered.
And he is still pondering, and he is still hoping for his dream to come
true!
September 17,
2006
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Stories

The Week of September 17, 2006
Fighting Terror: Musharraf's Offer Too Little, Too
Late! by Rajinder Puri
Clash of 'Words' not 'Civilizations' by Col.
Rahul K. Bhonsle
The Last "J" that Broke Bush's Back by Gaurang
Bhatt, MD
Non-Aligned Movement Summit in Havana, Sept 06
by Dr. Subhash Kapila
Social Rocketry by J. Ajithkumar
Are China's Rulers Illegal? by William R.
Stimson
Empires and Dust: Travels in Modern India II by
Ashish Nangia
Dating the Dunes at Sam a Photo
Essay by Sutapa Chaudhuri
The World is One Family by TA Ramesh
Arguments for including Bhoti Language
in the 8th Schedule of the
Indian Constitution by Stanzin Dawa
Understanding Mahabharata: A Woman's Fury, Soft
Skills and a Hero by Satya Chaitanya
And, the Clock Stopped ! by VK Joshi
Ustad Bismillah Khan: The Shehnai Maestro by
Yamini Ayyagari
Search Engines: Technology Behind Searching
by Ruchi Gupta
In Feline Company by Bijoyeta Das
Friendship Never Ends by Wazhma Frogh
The Night of Ten – La Noche del 10 by Dibyendu
Ghoshal
The Coast of Mendocino by Walter Durk
A Hope by Arya Bhushan
Ganga's Daughters by Julia Dutta
Investing in Women by Stephanie Hiller
Insurgency: The Long Way Down by Nava Thakuria
The Dark Side of Media Hype by Anuja Agrawal
On the Fast Track to Growth? by Usha Kakkar
Struggling to Make It: A Mother's Dilemma by
Rajesh Talwar
Arun Kumar Das: A Beam of Hope by Amarendra
Kishore
Pune: Down Memory Lane by Vikram Karve
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