Miraclous escape of death

Tricksters & Fools

One Sunday after lunch, severe cold forced me to go to bed for a little of warmth. Reading composes me, so, I need not to swallow any sleeping drug to get a sound sleep.

I picked up a story book on Tricksters & Fools and slipped down into bed. The book contains stories on the subject that handed down to us from centuries. One of the stories was the Brahman that was robbed of a heifer. A few more stories and I got intermittent naps. I had hardly finished the story on The Emperor in New clothes, when I heard my own feeble snores.

Now dreams started to pour like film, one scene after the other.

I landed as an ambassador in a country named Jambustan. It was ruled in proxy by Dr. Meata Singh. The country was infested with pests and rats. The Home Minister, Charles Shobh Raj Patil was too weak to handle the pest. To please the nuisance, at times he tried to robe likewise. One day Meata Singh was approached by two tricksters, one from Vijbehara, Anantnagh and the other form Doda with a solution.

They said: “We weave a mysterious cloth. No corrupt person can see the cloth. Besides, pests and rats will vanish if you wear the robes of the mysterious fabric and promise the pests that their progeny will be taken care of after their demise”.

The fabric in the civil has the branded name ‘Feeling Touch’ and in the belt forces ‘Lootbhavna’ or ‘Loot-khasote.’ For both the pests have become the hen that lays the golden eggs. And both are wise enough to rear the pest and allow the pest to get multiplied.

Without a second thought, Dr.Meata sanctioned Rs.24, 000 crore for the project and said: “On the Independence Day I shall address the Nation from the Pink Fort in the robes made of the fabric".

A few days later impatient Meata deputed one of his ministers to see the progress of the weavers. The weavers took the minister for sight-seeing for all the days at his disposal and intoxicated him with deep drinks. On his visit to the loom, the weavers pretended to be at work. The Minister remembered his event of corruption while dealing with the files on coal mines and praised the invisible fabric. He was cautious that otherwise he would have to face corruption charges.

Praise of the fabric made Meata more impatient and he deputed all his ministers one by one to see the progress of the weavers. All the tainted ministers praised the invisible fabric to escape corruption charges.

Finally one day before the Independence Day, Meata was given a trial of the mysterious suit. Invisible stitches and invisible scissors were applied to fit the loose fittings. Meata regretted his stupidity for his acquiescence to corruption committed by his ministers and expressed his pleasure and praised the fabric.

On the Independence Day all assembled in queues on either side of the road leading to the Pink Fort to welcome Meata in the mysterious robes. All but one child praised the fabric. The innocent child who had never lied cried: “SHAME…SHAME….SHAME; ULTI-TALI; SHAME SHAME”

Meata realized his folly but it was too late.

Alienation! Hans chughay dhana dhunka; Kawa moej munaiyay!

Truth must be swallowed like a bitter pill. It is the wrong and appeasement policies of the Government of India that alienated Kashmiris. Afzal Guru was just a pawn of the army of militants organized by the gimmick of Farooq Abdullah. Strangely the pawn whose sentiments were wrongly aroused by the initiator and the harbinger of militancy was hanged while the harbinger enjoyed  a ministerial berth at the Centre and his son and his party ruled the State with the blessings of the Central Government against wishes of the ruled with political maneuvering. Is it not an inhuman act that the family was not given a chance to see the one condemned with death sentence before he was hanged? A mediocre like Sushil Kumar Shinde polluted the chair that was once occupied by Gulzari Lal Nanda and Sardar Patel. He injured and bruised the sentiments of people irrespective of their affiliation and region when he said that a speed-post letter was sent to the family of Afzal Guru on the eve of the execution of the death sentence. M J Akbar rightly said in Today’s Sunday edition:” When clever people come to power, they often make a simple mistake. They think the rest of us are fools.” Virtually such ‘clever’ play with the interests of the nation while alienating its population. The Supreme Court of India condemned Afzal Guru with death sentence as the crime was deemed rarest of the rare. The Government of India made the death sentence still harsher than the highest punishment, by prolonging the execution and caused death by inches. Being pro Indians we must not close our eyes to wrongs that the Government of India does. Kashmir is an integral part of India with its people and not without its people. What is the use of that integral part whose population is made hostile to the interests of India? Shia Community of the valley has all along been for India. The late Moulvi Iftikhar Hussain Ansari was very close to Mrs. Indra Gandhi. His followers were humiliated at Hazuri Bagh when Indra Gandhi delivered her last speech at Hazuri Bagh a few months before her assassination in 1984. I am witness to the scene when their caps were trampled and thrown in drains nearby. The same Moulvi was thrown out of the Congress unceremoniously to accommodate Farooq Abdullah. The late Maqbool Dar (Ex.State Minister for Home GOI) from Shangus Anantnagh had canvassed people of his constituency in favour of India. Majority of them joined the Congress, the only National party for them. Next time for no reason mandate was denied to him and given to his cousin. Poor fellow had no option but to go in exile along with kashmiri Pundits in 1990. 1983, a small Shia Sunni skirmish at Zadibal was blown out of proportion to fail the Tourist Industry to fail Farooq Government. Politically, Kashmir is a grocer's shop for the Congress. Sheikh Abdullah refused to enter into alliance for 1976 elections. Alliance in grocer's language is partnership. Revenge and avenge thereafter caused my exile.

The wrong doings of the Government of India are the sauce for the separatists and anti Indians.
Bríjû dàss chhú vanàn låsív tû båsív.
B K Dass A wanderer in exile at 74 Deprived of his Cremation Ground by the Farooq Abdullah Government with acquiesce by the Rajiv Government at the Centre.
From Mumbai 9869923093 bkdass69@gmail.com; 9858205514

Raj Begum, Kashmiri Music, Dil chhooran

Infected & Infested

Pleas click: http://youtu.be/w5Vsn899LYg

September 30, 2014, I was booked for Abu Road Station to spend one week at the hill station Mount Abu, Rajasthan. Departure time for the train was 0744 hrs. Rafiq and Ajay dropped me at the Railway Station Jammu that is 8 minute drive from my place at Kunjwani. Rafiq was on the wheel.

The Railway coolie carried my luggage and placed it under my seat No: 9 in B1 coach. The train responded to the green signal and took leave of platform No: 2 at the scheduled departure time.

All the passengers took to their respective positions. The insects, mostly cockroaches from different stations and different states, travelled along with us without any ticket. These cockroaches followed the principle of unity in diversity. Despite being without ticket, they did not play hide and seek with the ticket checker. Both seemed to be in close harmony. They even took liberty to brazenly inspect the ticket checker from toe to top. They seemed to be special guests of the Railway Ministry.

Foul smell was an additional nuisance. I pitied the passenger that trusted hygiene of the cafeteria that served food  to them.

Empty hand wash bottle was awkwardly in a hanging position exhibiting emptiness of the railways.

The horrible scenario compelled me to approach one of the railway employees   for some remedial measures. He raised his hands to express his helplessness.  He said that cleanliness is being done by contractual contractors. The previous contract after its expiry has not been renewed so far. Let the complaint be made on the complaint book. He directed me to the Ticket Checker and asked him to get my complaint noted in the complaint book.

I pointed to the menace of insects to the TC.

The TC said: “I am abreast of the situation. The area of operation of these cockroaches is  my entire body. They run about my body and care little for my uniform.”

I said: “There is no soap to wash hands in the washroom or at the wash basin”.

I pitied him, when he offered to share his personal soap with me.

Soon he came to me with the complaint book. He simultaneously requested me to pardon him as the complaint would be his liability.

Click the link and watch my conversation with the Ticket checker.

Chased………

1967 I was posted by the Planning Department at Jammu. My office was in the premises of DC Jammu at Wazarat Road. The nature of job was Bench Mark Survey. Head of the department was Dr.Joginder Singh, Director Agriculture Jammu & Kashmir and my immediate officer was D P Khajuria who later on retired as Director Agriculture Jammu.

 The general mode of conveyance was the City Bus. The route for the City bus was from Panjtirthi via Shalimar road-Rajinder Bazar-Residency Road Gumut-Jewel Chowk- narrow Tawi Bridge wide enough to pass one-way traffic by turn to Satwari…..Its return was the same route via Rughnath Bazar to Shalimar-Kachi Chawni to Panjtirthi.

Tuesday the 4^th April 1967, I left my office earlier for some personal job at Government Polytechnic at Bikram Chowk. I boarded the overloaded City Bus at Shaheedie Chowk for the Government Polytechnic. The bus had hardly taken turn towards the Gumet road, when I felt some handsome and moderately well built but nicely dressed in white cream colour coat and matching pantaloon making advances towards my genital organ. First I took it as the curse of the overcrowded bus but soon I realized that it was a deliberate action. I became nervous and blushed. The bus stopped across the bridge to drop the passengers of the Stop. My stop was a little ahead. Out of wit I hurriedly alighted from the bus and boarded another one that came from the opposite direction. This bus too was overloaded. I managed to get foothold from the front door and squeezed in when students from MAM College were hanging on its frame and body all around. I heaved a sigh of relief.

The relief was short lived. The man on the chase managed his entry through the backdoor of the bus and was making efforts to reach me. The bus stopped at Jewel Chowk to drop some and pick up others for onward stops. I paid for Kachi Chawni but alighted at Jewel Chowk to escape molestation. The man too alighted and followed me.

My friend, classmate, hostel mate at the University and colleague in the planning department retired Joint Director Planning Ghulam Mohammad Bhat was posted at the Directorate of Animal Husbandry. His office was very close to Jewel Cinema. I rushed to him. He was surprised to see me panting. I revealed the abnormal day to him and asked him to escort me to safer zone. Ghulam Mohammad Bhat is tall and master of pleasing looks and authoritative personality. He accompanied me to see the man who had dared to tease me. The man by that time on wait pretended to see the posters and photographs of the film on exhibition at Jewel Cinema. He realized his futile efforts and left me free. Ghulam Mohammad educated me that he was a Gay and I was chased by a Gay. Thank god and G M Bhat who managed to save me from the catastrophe and saved my bachelorhood until my marriage in 1969.

My belief became stronger that ‘jinu rakhay sanie mar sukay na koie’