‘I don’t want to leave this place, Ram! This is my birthplace. I just want to live here peacefully.’ I cried out, storming into the safe confines of the kitchen.
Expressing my revolt over the conversations going on outside, I slammed the heavy silver tray on the wooden table. The thunderous sound of it echoed in the large room, making us close our eyes momentarily. Eventually, the clattering noise subsided to enable us to restart.
‘Who is asking you to go? And Why?’ Ram asked, subsequently, in a perplexed tone.
‘I just heard them talk about some sort of separation.’ I stated, pointing towards the courtyard.
‘Here deliver the tea first. Come back. We will then talk over it calmly.’ Ram said politely. In an assuring manner, willing to hear my grievances the moment I returned.
I picked up the utensils one by one and placed them carefully on the tray. Two kettles, one filled with liqueur tea and the other containing hot milk. Three pairs of cup-saucer and a small bowl of sugar, filled to the brim. All articles splendidly designed and made out of glossy china clay. I gave the finishing touches by intricately arranging three white cloth napkins at the empty side. Folding them diagonally and setting a silver spoon on top of each one. Finally, placing an extra spoon at the side of the sugar bowl I completed the royal job. Etiquette learnt from my father, having seen him perform several times since I was a child.
‘What presentation!!? You have mastered it, Mian (Gentleman)! Bahut acche (Very good)!’ Ram exclaimed, attempting to cheer me up.
I glanced at him menacingly. Adjusted my pagdi (headgear) and set forth for my destination. Cautiously holding the tray close to my chest, I entered the courtyard. The voices grew louder and stronger as I approached them with nimble feet and eyes fixed on the finely cut grass below.
‘You realize, Mr. Jinnah, what you are just about to do?’ I heard Mr. Mountbatten’s stern voice. ‘The Congress would never agree to this.’
‘I am not worried about anyone else except the welfare of the Muslim people.’ Mr. Jinnah replied in a firm voice.
‘What would you do, if you were in my place? Mr. Jinnah!!’ Mr. Mountbatten asked aggressively, constricting his eyes.
‘I would have given Muslims Pakistan, by now.’ he uttered bluntly.
‘Pakistan? Has this man gone mad!! Isn’t Hindustan for all?’ I told myself placing the tray on the table, beside Mistress Edwina.
‘If India has to be divided into India and Pakistan, the same principle would apply to Bengal and Punjab.’ the Lord remarked promptly.
‘I will have my say when the time comes.’ he responded in an authoritative tone.
‘You are doing all this just for power, isn’t it?’ Mrs. Edwina Mountbatten asked raising her eyebrows.
She signaled me to leave, simultaneously, desiring to serve them with her own hands. I turned around and scampered back to stop at a distance near the courtyard entrance. I stood there like a robot, frowning humanely. With eyes fixed to the ground, unmoved most of the time, awaiting their next order. The restlessness and anger seethed inside me, hearing their divisive political conversations.
‘You realize, Mr. Jinnah, that this will cost you dear,’ the viceroy warned. ‘It will cost you the future of Pakistan, everything! You won't have a wooden table or chair in an office in your Pakistan. Or the money to buy an olive green army water bottle.’ he spoke out explicitly showing his contempt. His wife looked on at his face with dismay.
Mr. Jinnah chose to remain quiet, clearly perceiving the meaning behind the viceroy’s words. I glanced at him from the corner of my eye, in an attempt to gauge his response. But the expression on his face suggested that he was in no mood to share the pie with anyone.
‘My people, the Muslim League has chosen me. Not you!’ he stated emphatically, sipping his tea.
‘You seem to be adamant. Just think over it for once. Don’t force anything for which you may have to repent in the future.’ Mr. Mountbatten advised, escorting him slowly to the main door.
I picked up the crockery and walked back hastily towards my designated zone. Dejected and surprised over the uncertain future of the country and my life.
‘What is the matter Bilal? You look disturbed.’ Ram asked in a concerned voice.
‘I don’t believe this. I just can’t believe this!!’ I uttered.
‘What has happened? Tell me? Is everything fine in Lahore?’ he inquired in a panic-stricken voice.
‘They are dividing this country, just for the sake of power and to satisfy their self-esteem.’ I declared.
‘Who is dividing it? How is it possible?’ he asked frowning.
‘Mr.Jinnah! He wants to create a new country for himself called Pakistan!’ I announced, removing the pagdi from my head. ‘And Mr. Mountbatten will create it by dividing Punjab and Bengal.’
‘Whatever is happening is not correct. But how can we stop them?’ he questioned throwing his hands up in the air. ‘I know they have the people’s support and have charged up their ignorance politically.’ I said.
‘Don’t you hear every day? News of trains carrying slaughtered bodies of Hindu’s or Muslim’s from different parts of the country?’ he said demanding an answer from me.
‘I know that Ram. But… what if the country gets divided? What should I do?’ I asked, hesitantly. A silent prayer to God followed for not allowing the day and my apprehensions to come true.
‘What do you do? Meaning? You have your family here. So we will stay here together like we do today.’ Ram spoke out, giving me a wary look. I sensed an unknown fear in his tone.
‘But my relatives and loved ones are in Lahore… How can I leave them? I… I have to take care of them as well!’ I stammered. A cold sweat developed on my palms making me ponder about their welfare.
‘Why don’t you ask them to come over here as soon as possible?’ Ram said figuring out an answer instantly.
‘No Ram! You just told me the news of the trains. It’s impossible now.’ I responded.
It was evident from Ram’s face that he had no solution to my problem. The realization that our strong bond of friendship and brotherhood would one day be destroyed and torn apart, had hit us hard. It was the first time when we eyed each other as a Hindu and a Muslim. I had no option but to follow suit. We remained silent, waiting helplessly for the political catastrophe to separate us.
‘Pakistan!! What is this nonsense called Pakistan?’ Mr. Nehru shouted.
I stood there at a distance from the table, staring down at the grass in the lawn.
‘You aspire to become the Prime Minister of this country. Don’t you?’ Mr. Mountbatten inquired in a mocking tone.
‘Yes! But…’
‘You must be Prime Minister of India. Giving away Pakistan is the only way... Don't start wavering now.’ he cautioned.
I spotted Mr. Nehru deep in thought. His agitated gait conveyed me that he was steadily giving in to the viceroy’s persuasion. ‘But how does he intend to form Pakistan?’ he inquired.
‘That is up to me to decide.’ the Lord declared beaming. ‘Half of Punjab and Bengal and the whole of Sind along with the North-West Frontier Province will become Pakistan.’
‘I cannot allow a man from the Muslim league to become the Prime Minister of this country. If that is what he wants let him have it.’ he said succumbing to his own pressure.
‘I will bring the date of the Partition closer and would want to leave as quickly as possible. Pakistan will have to scramble against itself, really!!’ he said demonstrating his ascendency.
‘Who will decide our borders?’ Mr. Nehru inquired in a baffled tone.
‘I have made preparations for that. A committee headed by Sir Cyril Radcliffe will be performing that job.’ he replied readily.
‘Do you have a date in mind?’ the, to be Prime Minister of India asked in a worried tone.
‘Huh? Errr… Fifteenth August next month!’ he said hurriedly.
‘How can he fix so casually? It is an important decision and he gave it so randomly and easily!!’ I wondered.
‘That early? How is it possible?’ Mr. Nehru asked, echoing my sentiments, hearing his prompt answer.
‘A civil war is staring at us in the face. What else can we do? We will speed up the process. It can be done in no time.’ Mr. Mountbatten assured.
A month was all that I had to pack up my belongings and vacate India. The feeling of leaving my friends and dear ones caused an overwhelming grief to rise in me.
‘Will I get such a respectable job there? Will the Pakistan I will be residing in be as good as my India?’ my mind was inundated with numerous such questions. I had no answer to any one of them. Only time would tell.
I came inside shortly after Mr. Nehru’s departure. Met Ram in the kitchen as usual. Our gossips and hours of jovial talks had been reduced to a mere formal greeting. On entering the room it I passed a cold look meeting his eye.
‘The date has been decided.’ I said in a depressing tone.
‘So? When are you leaving? Bilal Mian!!’ he asked with a careless attitude.
‘On fourteenth august Pakistan will be formed. Fifteenth India will get freedom.’ I informed him ignoring his taunt.
‘Fifteenth! But that’s Friday! They did not consult the astrologers?’ the Pandit (Hindu scholar) in him sprang up.
‘Why what’s the problem?’ I inquired, confused.
‘Tch… Tch… Tch… It’s a very bad day!’ he remarked.
‘Yes! I heard it too from some of the astrologers. But what’s so bad about it?’
‘Rather than accept it, the people of India should accept British rule. Under the calculations, August fifteenth is lying under the Zodiac sign for Capricorn. This sign is known for its hostility to all centrifugal, pulling-apart, forces. Therefore, it is the worst possible day to do a partition. And on that day, India would be passing through the influence of Saturn, a very unlucky and unfriendly planet.’ he stated, relaying the predictions done by the other astrologers, scrutinizing and cursing the day endlessly.
A month flew past in no time. It was time to go. The strong desire for power had separated my soul from the loved ones. I didn’t know what was in store for me in the unknown land of Pakistan. I bid goodbye to every one of my community except Ram. It was a moment not to remember, but certainly to die for. I marched towards the obscure border with my family not knowing the hazards of crossing it.
‘Oh! God! Where am I? Allow me to stay here….’ I said slowly closing my eyes, clutching the ground on either side of me. A hazy figure moved around me, finally wielding it’s sharp power on my neck… ‘Hey...’
