Masterclass in the Hills of Sikkim

The Man

Chest up and with a twinkle in his eyes

Smiled and said to himself

I am big and mighty

All bow down to me

My requests are a command to many

On a vacation to Sikkim

Opened the window of his grand hotel

HE stood before the Man

As a tall and mighty mountain

High, as high the eye could see

With snow-capped peaks

Mightier than any man could ever be

The Man hung his head down and moved on. 

The Man

Driving through the circuitous hilly roads

He smiled and said to himself

My vision has always been so impeccable

I plan in advance, foresee the times ahead

No wonder, they call me a visionary

He peered through the front windscreen of the car

HE came down the clouds

As an envelope of endless dense fog

Visibility came down to almost zero

The Man slowed his vehicle to a stop

Then slowly inched his way forward

Feet by feet, watching every curve and bump

The Man realised the limits of his vision

Wiped the windscreen and slowly moved on.

The Man

With a life’s bag full of success and glory

Smiled again and said with an air of arrogance

I get, what I desire

My goals once set are conquered one by one

Nothing can ever stop me from achieving my success

Today, I shall conquer the peak.

HE came down as a landslide

Blocking the path

Wiping away the road

With boulders big and small

For once the goal seemed distant and lost

The Man looked at the seat behind

His wife and daughter were safe

Life’s true goals and wealth were still with him

What more goals and glory were there for him to seek?

The Man

Sat down on the floor of the monastery

In all humility, gently chanted  

Om Mane Padme Hum

Jewel in the Lotus

Repeated the same chant many times over

The fog that hung low

Slowly lifted

HE showed himself seated on a lotus

With peace and calmness surrounding him

 The Man

Put his hands together

Prayed for his loved ones

Prayed for peace and happiness to all

For his family, friends and beyond

Spoke one last time to himself

I mistook my vision, goals and success

HE showed me the right path

In his own simple way

The Man

Slept well that night

Free from ego, arrogance and pride

It was the last night before he returned to the plains

It had been pouring incessantly the previous days

With no light peeping through the dark clouds

The Man and his people had lost all hope

But deep inside they all longed 

Of getting one small glimpse

Of the elusive Guardian Deity of the Hills

Representing the Five Treasures of Snow:

Gold, Silver, Gems, Grains and Holy Book

HE smiled and showered his grace

HE opened up the sky with splendid light

Pushing the dark clouds away

The Man and his people

Saw HIM in all his glory

Mount Kanchendzonga

Glory, Glory, Glory to the Lord.

SS

Dreams

Shaheen, the class teacher, announced… You are here in school today as you are seniors and have your major examination coming up soon. The younger ones have been given off due to the impending war like situation. Your safety is our main concern and if you get to hear the siren, immediately leave everything and rush to the basement. Our school is in the vicinity of the naval office which may be a target of the state’s enemies. While no one will bomb the school but collateral damages can happen. Moreover, our army, navy and air force are all on full alert to repel any enemy intrusion into our territory. These are difficult times and we all have to make sacrifices for our beloved country.

The students all shouted… Yes teacher… in unison. While the teacher started reading from a new chapter in Persian history, four girls in the last row looked at each other and smiled. One of them quietly opened her desk and passed on a magazine to the friend sitting next to her. The one who got the magazine, placed the magazine on the inside of the history text book and gently flipped through the pages, all the while with an impish smile on her face. Having reached the end of the magazine, she took a look at the teacher who was teaching with great nationalistic fervour about the glorious past, and attempted to pass the same to the extended arm on the adjoining desk where the other two friends were seated. Despite having done the routine many times as the trained relay runners do in athletics, the baton sometimes falls… the magazine slipped and fell on the floor with a sound that everyone heard.

What is that? The teacher exclaimed and got up immediately from her seat and saw the magazine lying on the floor between two desks. She walked to the place and picked up the magazine and returned to her desk where she flipped through the first few pages. She covered her mouth in disgust; her eyes had a look of disbelief and dismay as she was taken to a world of blasphemy printed in the finest of art paper. 

Who brought this magazine into the classroom? I want the culprit to step forward. Otherwise, I will punish the entire class.

There was a pin drop silence in the class room and all the girls put up their hands together as if admitting that all were part of this misdemeanour.

Oh… so now you girls are trying to protect your friends thinking that by collectively owning the blame, you will all be saved. No… that will not happen. I want to give the real culprit, who is a coward and hiding somewhere in the class, one last chance to admit and step forward. If she does not do it, I will report the matter to the principal and this matter will go to the holy council whose retribution is something I need not have to explain. So, if you want all your friends to face the whips and stones, you can stay quiet or else, step forward and admit. Save your friends, O you coward and begetter of pestilence of the lowest order into the holy precincts of the madrasa, may you and your family rot in hell.

Suddenly, all the eyes in the class room moved to the rear as four girls stood up. They were the inseparable quartet of Rabia, Arzoo, Roshan and Fatima who spoke up….

It was us, teacher, who got the Vogue magazine to school. The others are all innocent so please spare them the punishment. We admit that having possession of this magazine and bringing the same to the school was completely wrong on our part. We are sorry for the incident and would request you to pardon us this one time. This shall not be repeated and we are ready to do penance that may be required under the law. 

Penance... you think this blasphemy merits your merely doing public service. No way. This is too severe a sin and if I were to let you get away lightly, the matter will surely reach the higher ups and I will have to suffer the consequences. They will not even spare my family. I am sorry girls but I have to report you to the school principal and the education board who alone can deliver their judgement. It is way beyond me to take law into my own hands.

The teacher led the girls to the principal’s room from where the other children and staff could distinctly overhear the shouting of the lady whose temper and adherence to religious laws were known to all. She did not spare any opportunity to demonstrate to the students and her higher ups her strictness, something which had paid her rich dividends. She had already been recommended for promotion to the education board and would soon be moving into her new role. This was another opportunity to show her mettle.

Take these infidels and lock them up in the cattle shed for now. I will be sending the letter to the education board and authority for religious matters asking them to step in and take a decision on the level of punishment these four girls ought to get. Shaheen, you call up the parents of these girls and say that they will not be returning home till the judgement is passed and they have served their punishment.

The girls were all in tears and no amount of apology worked with the principal. Shaheen teacher walked the four girls to the cattle shed that was a little distance away from the main school building and locked them from outside. There were a few animals kept in the shed and no one ever cleaned up the place. The stench there was unbearable and the girls felt that they would meet with their creator even before the religious police could punish them. They quietly sat in one corner hoping that someone would open the gates to at least allow some fresh air inside.

Rabia shouted at her friends… I got the book to school. Why did you all take the blame? Only one would have faced the stones and the whips, why should you three suffer?

Arzoo quickly cut Rabia… Who paid you to buy the magazine in the black market? We paid which means we are as guilty as you. We swim or sink together, today and tomorrow. So, no more talk on this subject.

Fatima smiled approvingly and said... It is so hot and suffocating inside here. Let us take off our hijabs and we will feel somewhat better. If they are anyway planning to hang us, they might as well add this crime to our devil’s scorecard.

All laughed and took off their hijabs and once again sat facing each other. Roshan spoke in a calm voice… Now that our death is certain, and not too far, let us speak of our dreams. Like, what will we do if we survive this day?

For me, it is an easy decision, said Rabia. The country now appears more like this shed. It is dirty, enclosed and suffocating. I will go off to Paris where my aunt lives and will become a fashion model. Someday, you girls will see me on the cover of Vogue and tell your boyfriends and husbands… that’s my friend! I have been practising my moves as well. Do you want to see?

Yes, others agreed. Rabia acted as if she were wearing high heels and a beautiful evening gown. She walked up and down the small and smelling enclosure with the other three cheering her all the way…. Rabia, you’re the best and you will set the Seine aflame once you land there.

I want to be a teacher, not like the mean Shaheen or the dreaded Princi, a good one, said Roshan. A teacher who the students love and respect. I will go to college and do my Masters in literature and history. While I would love to go to Oxford or Cambridge in the UK but that may not be possible. I will make the best of the opportunity this country has to offer.

Fatima announced… I will go to college here and work with the other student leaders to bring about change in the way the country is being managed. My focus would be to lead women to seek their freedom and respect. If it means, facing immense odds and making sacrifices, I will be willing to do it. I will not be cowed down by anyone till the dream is achieved. I will make sure the country we leave behind for our children is a better one.

Noble thoughts Fatima and I wish you all the best in making this dream come true, said Arzoo. I dream of going to India and working in the movies. I have been seeing their films and am in love with the way they make their movies with songs, dance and so much of romance. It’s a world of dreams. They are much better than the Hollywood ones which are dark, gory and boring. I also have the talent to make it to Bollywood… I can act, sing and also dance.

Oh, you dance as well. Show us some moves.

Here you go… Arzoo put her one hand on her chin as if acting coy and with her other hand started moving it in jerky manner as if it were raining and began singing…

Bijlee girane, main toh aayi
Kehte hain mujhko, hawa hawai
Hawa hawai, Hawa hawai

Super Arzoo… you have passed the screen test and we are offering you a movie with Ranveer Singh…. Shouted the three girls who just could not stop laughing at Arzoo’s act.

In the midst of all the happiness, the dreaded siren blew three times… the enemy was attacking but they had no place to rush and hide. They were stuck in the dilapidated shed which seemed to shake with the sound of the explosions that the girls could hear. The girls held each other’s hands and sat down in a huddle. The sounds of the explosions grew louder and closer to where they were and then they heard the biggest explosion and the roof came crashing down. Everything went blank and dark thereafter.

In some time, the ambulances rushed to the school. All the rescue workers tried entering the main school premises which had been completely flattened. Drills were used and the rescuers tried finding some evidence of remaining life, but there was none. All the teachers and students who had gone to the basement had been crushed beneath the big structure above and the destructive power of the missile had sucked out life from the area.  All seemed lost when a dog started barking where the shed lay broken down. A few rescuers now went towards the shed and started removing the rubble. In no time they saw some girls lying there with some semblance of life left in them and realised that a miracle had happened. Other people were called over and quickly the place was cleared and the girls were put in ambulances and sent to a nearby hospital. After a couple of days, four mothers were waiting by the bed side of their respective girls who were bandaged all over. The hospital bulletin showed that one of them needed an amputation of one leg, the second was on life support system, the third had lost an arm and the fourth, her sight.

“War does not determine who is right, only who is left,” and what is left in the boulevard of broken dreams. 

Dil hai chota sa, chhoti si aasha
Masti bhare mann ki, bholi si aasha
Chaand taaron ko, chhoone ki aasha
Aasmanon mein, udhne ki aasha…

SS

PS. This is a work of fiction. Names, characters and events are the products of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

Game On

I am not going anywhere.

Biren, why don’t you understand, things are really bad. We need to go to Uncle Angamba’s village where our people are in majority. Father is calling us again and again.

Sonam, this is where I was born and have lived all my life. This is where I have all my friends since childhood. This is where I played football for the first time and this is where I truly belong.

You are right but the current situation is not conducive. Brothers are turning against each other. There is loot, arson, killings… people are getting slaughtered. Once things normalise, we can come back, but today we must leave.

Your brother Sonam is right. Biren, there is no time to waste. Just take a few essentials and come. Others from the village are also leaving and moving together will provide for protection. Do not carry any sharp objects. We will go in peace and will not get aggressive at anyone…a soft but stern voice from another end of the room.

It was Laishram, Biren’s father, and the son did not have the heart to argue with him. He picked up a few things from the cupboard and packed them in this kit bag containing his football shoe and jersey. For him, there was nothing more precious than his football kit. He then went out where he found about twenty of the neighbours were waiting, all looking sad and had fear in their eyes. For all had heard the gory stories of mayhem that was happening on the hills and in the valleys of Manipur.

In the cover of darkness, the fearful twenty moved slowly but steadily. They had to go about fifteen odd kilometres. Like in war times of old, it seemed the rioters were also following a standard play time for their war games. They would be playing blood sport from sunrise to sunset. In the late evenings and night, they usually allowed people to cross over to buy essentials and move from one place to another. This was also the time when the police and armed forces took to patrolling.

The group would have done about five odd kilometres when the eerie silence of the night was broken by a huge war cry and a bunch of people with swords and machetes ran out towards the escaping people who turned around to flee to safety. Just when they turned, another wave of shouting people with arms raised rushed towards them from the other side. This looked like a perfect ambush. The refugees now froze and waited for the onrushing killers from both the sides. Some raised their hands pleading to the killers to spare them and others started praying to their god to save them. Gods must have been sleeping at night and killers had their own reasons to complete the task. Who knows, they too, may have lost some of their loved ones to people from the other side similarly? One man with a sword rushed at Biren who fell down on his knees as the sharp edge cut through his left arm and blood oozed out. Biren knew that the next strike would be his last. Just then his killer looked at his victim and shouted… Are you Biren Singh?

Yes, he said.

The killer called his other folks… Arrey, Biren, the football player is here!

The frenzied mob who had picked on the other escapees as their targets, stopped in their acts and all moved towards him. Biren did not understand the reason for this strange behaviour. He could not remember having hurt so many people in life who would want to retaliate en masse.

One of the killers with a machete in hand from which blood was dripping shouted… Prove it that you are Biren!

A profusely bleeding Biren pointed towards his bag which fallen near the place where he stood. The other man picked up the bag, unzipped it and turned it upside down. Out came a few clothes, a set of football shoes, a folder and a tin box that opened up as it hit the ground. A few medals fell out of the box which the man had picked up. Another person picked up the folder and opened the same to find newspaper clippings and photographs that all had Biren’s face prominently displayed with the trophies and medals.

This man is definitely Biren, the captain of the state’s football team.  Take him to safety immediately…. No one will attack him now.

A couple of men caught Biren’s injured arm and tied a cloth tightly to stop any further bleeding. They then pushed him gently towards a house nearby but Biren resisted their initiative. He shouted… I will not go alone. What am I without my family?

Which of these people are part of your family?

All of these people are part of my extended family… Biren spoke and looked around him. Now only ten of the twenty were standing… all badly injured but alive. He saw that his younger brother Sonam was still around but could not see his father, mother or Anuobi, his loving sister. A man who appeared to be the leader of the killer pack shouted with full authority…Ok. No more of these people are to be killed. Take all those alive to safety and give them medical aid. Make sure someone keeps constant guard. Captain Biren has to be protected at all costs. He is our hero and state's treasure and no harm can ever come on to him.

All the injured and alive folks were taken to a school premise where they were given first aid, water and biscuits. The survivors sat around Biren and looked at him as their saviour. Not a word was spoken. The people stayed there for three days and nights when the news trickled in that peace had been restored in the city. They had also physically recovered to some degree but were mentally completely devastated. Each of the families had lost someone or another… a brother, a sister, a mother, a father or a child. They had not even got the opportunity to give them a burial. All had been cleared from the places where they had fallen by the local authorities, just the way they do to daily waste.

Biren and his people started a long walk back to their homes. When they reached there, they were in for a shock. Their homes had been reduced to ashes. They just stood there for a while and then walked closer to their homes to see if they could pick anything that could be salvaged. Sadly, nothing remained. The other people in the vicinity remained in the safety of their homes and did not care to offer shelter, food or water to the people who had long been their extended families. Today, they were complete strangers. The despondent people, with nowhere to go, decided to once again undertake the journey to their uncle’s village where they still had relatives living.

Biren and Sonam stayed back at their uncle’s house. He was treated at a hospital for the arm that had been injured in the ghastly attack on the saddest night of his life. After recovery, he started working in his uncle’s furniture workshop. Sonam returned to college where he represented the university team and the second division team. Biren never touched the ball again and he never even went to see Sonam play.

After almost six years, the brothers were delighted to hear a piece of good news. They got a letter from the government which said that all those who had lost their houses in the riots could go back to the same addresses. The houses had been rebuilt and they would be handed over to the rightful owners or their legal heirs. The brothers took some of the available papers and along with their uncle went to the designated office.  After a couple of rounds of meeting, they were able to get the ownership papers and keys. The brothers shifted to their house, named it Anuobi and put up a big picture of their parents at the entrance.

While he never forgot the tragedy, time acted as the best medicine over the cuts and bruises of the mind. The old neighbours gradually the brothers with warmth, invited them to their homes and at local festivities. The acrimony of that one phase in life had given way to peace and joy in the area and the brothers were happy in their new lives. The divisions of race, religion, caste and creed had slowly dissolved and the scars too had healed with time, protected under thick, dried scabs. Over time only a few marks remained.

One day, the man who had identified him on the fateful day came and met Biren.  

Brother, we would like you to coach our football team for a tournament happening in a month from now. It is a very prestigious tournament and teams from all over the state are expected to participate. We have some good and talented players but, somehow, they are unable to settle down as a coordinated and a winning team. We need a good coach- cum- manager and there is no one better than you to do the job. And we also want Sonam to play in the team.

Thank you for the offer but I have completely given up on football since the last six years. I will ask Sonam to play but please excuse me.

Biren da, we have boys from all races and communities in the team. Many of them are from this neighbourhood. If they play and win, it will help the boys find slots in bigger teams and their lives will change. The name of the colony will be in news and it will bring cheer to all of us here.

Biren looked up at the man whose people had taken away his parents and sister but then remembered him for having given him a second lease of life. He closed his eyes and remembered his father, the man who instilled into him his love for football. He would take him to see local matches and encourage him to keep playing. What would he have done today…he thought and soon he got his answer. He smiled back at the waiting man and nodded his head. For him football was his true love and religion and he had just been offered one more chance to get back to life… only football could be the way to have a life of happiness and peace.

Next day, Biren went to the market to buy a new set of football shoes and jersey. In the evening, he walked to the playground and shouted aloud…

Boys…run four rounds of the field in good speed and then we will do free hand exercises. 

Game on!

SS

NB. Inspired by a story I saw om Amazon Prime