13th August, 2014 at Gund Rahman Ganderbal

12^th August, 2014 in the evening, I heard Mohammad Rafiq fixing up fishing program with his friend Abdul Majid. I expressed my desire to be with them. Mohammad Rafiq on the outset refused to oblige me. I, in that case decided to leave for Jammu on 13^th. My request was finally conceded with a rider. I had to talk about weather and the like but not on the scenario post 1990. He distances himself from strangers. His advice was worth its salt.

Next morning I was told that the area was once playground for hide and seek for dreaded militant the late Hamid Gadda. I had to be cautious. I promised to abide by the instructions.

Early morning at 7:30 Mohammad Rafiq as usual took command of the steering. I was asked to occupy the seat beside him. Right and left drive, we finally turned to the road that leads to Shivala Mandir on Neelam Cinema side. Abdul Majid was already in wait with his fishing rod and other paraphernalia in hand.

En route, icebox filled with chicken intestines to bait the fish, samosa and other eatables for we three was packed.  

Eidgah-Zunimar-Soura road the steering took to the left at Bachpora. It was a dusty narrow road through Anchar Lake (filled and turned into residential area). Pretty long drive and finally we reached our destination among dense forest of willow, poplar and chinar trees. Even at 12 noon, most of the areas were dark under the shade of the grove.

Fishing tackles were fixed. Men behind the tackle took their respective positions with high hopes and I took my seat in the visitor’s pavilion.

10 AM and tea break with zero catch was declared. Special stove on petrol in a pocket tin box is always handy at such occasions. One cup of tea with little sugar, samosa to each with Haldiram preparations refreshed the party.

Post tea-break, Mohammad Rafiq succeeded in his mission and opened the score. The scoreboard changed the figure from zero to one. Abdul Majid had yet to open his score. Majid became restless. Finally with consensus the pitch was declared not fructuous. Hectic no doubt, but the decision in unison enabled to pack with little controversy. The new site was perpendicularly across the river.

Each one of us took respective positions in the car for new destination. Almost one kilometer retreat and we crossed the bridge. Looking for the road to reach the destination was not less hectic than the job accomplished by Ibn Batuta.  Right turn and the fair-weather sandy road turned into grooves welcomed us.  Heavy tyres of tractors and trucks carrying sand have turned the road into two deep grooves on either side of a continuous mound of settled sand. Driving on such road demanded dexterity that Rafiq did have. One tyre on the mound and the other in the deep grove saved the oil chamber below from getting chiseled and damaged. Tilted at forty-five degrees the car finally came to a stop. 

The locals have adopted an innovative method to collect sand. Deep trenches are dug away from the road and the river. These trenches get filled occasionally. Rafiq parked the car in one of the trenches.

I was helped to cross the barbed wire fence to reach the bank of the river at predetermined site. Each sportsman took his position and in view of the direct sunlight I failed to get a comfortable compartment.  Reaching the sports area one meter away meant further trespass of fenced area.  My limited height became impediment for the first time. I was apprehensive. A little error would damage my pantaloon or demand an injection of anti tetanus. I preferred to go back to the road and look for an easy access to the adjacent enclosure. No less an achievement than that of Columbus.

Long wait and no catch proved the exercise in futility.

Lunch break was declared. My vegetarian lunch was subsidized with a cup of curds. Besides the sun, mosquitoes turned hostile for our encroachment in their habitat.  No catch and static scoreboard gave an excuse to the sportsmen. Scorching heat was given as an excuse. I as a spectator suspected that the leader of the fish might have declared ‘hartal’ in view of 14^th and 15^th August.

Now the last hope was to shift to the site under the bridge.  Futile exercise and I preferred to go for a nap in the car. The seat was stretched to its full recline and soon I went to the dreamy world.

5:30 we went back to the original site. Until 7:30 PM the scoreboard remained static. Majid agreed with me that the fish are on ‘hartal’ and further shifting of the site would be an exercise in futility. The solitary catch was declared as the one who did not abide by the call for ‘hartal’ given by its leader.

The catch was sentenced to death and was fried and served to three at dinner. Public opinion was framed against the fish. People around said that the fish deserved the treatment it was given. In whispers they condemned the judgment and prayed for anonymity.
Gund Rehman is a village at a distance of three kilometers from the district Headquarter Ganderbal. Ganderbal was the constituency of Sheikh Mohammad Abdullah and his progeny. Gund Rehman is connected to Ganderbal by a dusty road but deprived of any public transport. Despite having been neglected by both the government, and the administration, the village is proud to be rich in education. Two of the residents have done Phd. in bio-technology from Hyderabad, one is doing Phd. in Zoology another in Botany. The boy talking to me is doing MSc. from Patiala University Punjab. Ninety-nine percent school going students are said to be regular to their schools.