Jalees

JALEES
(A short-story)

RAZIA MANZUR ALMIN

Translated from Urdu by MADAN GUPTA

On the way from Jammu to Srinagar, one passes a small village called Batot which with its wooden and mud houses spread over the hill, waits for travellers. If the tourist buses do not start on time from Jammu, they cannot reach Banihal before eight at night and cannot get permission to cross the tunnel. The passengers have, therefore, to spend the night either at Batot or Banihal. The drivers generally take stock of the situation before reaching Banihal and decide to stop somewhere en route. A few wayside eating-houses and some rest-rooms are always ready to welcome the passengers.

In the Diamond Lodge, Nissar Ahmad sat in his wheel-chair appraising the scene around him. His sister Jalees had spent two hours on her knees to polish the wooden floor of the hall. The smell of the polish still pervaded the atmosphere. Through the red curtains, Nissar Ahmad could see the sun setting. Its rays blazed into his eyes almost like the radiance of a beautiful woman before she gets lost in the darkness of old age. The silhouettes of the hills, peach and promagnate trees were lengthening. The sun’s rays played on the waters of the nearby waterfall and looked like sparks issuing out of newly-lit fire.

Diamond Lodge was not like the other rest-places in Batot where the passengers took a cot for the night and went away the next morning. It was away from the village on an elevation. Its freshly-painted boundary fence and building, its spotlessly clean glass windows did not attract the travellers of modest means. Even if some such tourist ventured to come up. Nissar Ahmad’s attitude turned him promptly away. He was discriminating in the selection of his guests even if the extra space bad to go unoccupied, keen as he naturally was to get the maximum number of tourists. It fanned his ego that he turned some away.

“Jalees”, Nissar Ahmad called out. His fingers played impatiently on the arms of the wheel-chair. From inside the kitchen could be heard the sound of utensils being put away.

“Jalees”, be shouted again, “haven’t you beard?”

A beautiful young girl appeared at the kitchen door wiping her hands with a towel. Her jet black hair was covered with a wrapper. The sparkle in her eyes looked prematurely dimmed.

“The travellers are breaking the doors and you don’t….” He did not complete the sentence.

Jalees looked at her brother with fear in her eyes and rushed towards the door. Nissar Ahmad sat on the chair with his elbows on its arms looking towards the door almost like an Emperor.

As the door opened, the travellers moved in. Some were even flourishing brand new bank notes. A newly-married man came forward and said, “Please charge double than your normal rate if you like, but let me and my wife spend the night here.” Nissar Ahmad appraised them for a while and then asked Jalees to give them a room. The young couple followed her with their luggage. The room was clean and spacious. The youngman looked completely satisfied. Oblivious of Jalees’ presence, he took his wife into his arms. Jalees moved away quietly. She heard the wife say, “What a lovely place! Why don’t we spend a few days here before going to Srinagar?”

When Jalees returned to the hall, her brother was as usual waiting for her. Instead of sitting upright in the wheel-chair, he had reclined a little with the result that his belly now protruded. Under the blanket his single leg moved a little. Except for a few, the other travellers had been turned away. “Show them to their rooms”, he said to Jalees, “and see that they are comfortable.”

Jalees believed more in action than in words. She moved towards the rooms along with the tourists. Among them was a middle-aged couple. The wife constantly complained of pain in her knees. The husband equally persistently ignored her. “Let me get you a hot water bottle “, said Jalees removing the bedcover. The woman instantly got into bed. Jalees took the other guests their rooms. Among them was also a foreigner who looked like professor. He thanked Jalees with a smile and went into his room. The fourth passenger’s room was right at the end. He was following Jalees carrying his heavy camera and other baggage. Suddenly Jalees became very self-conscious. This only happens when one has a feeling that one is being watched; assessed. She suddenly turned round. Her wrapper had moved away from her head. She saw that the youngman was watching her every move–particularly her long plait dangling below her waist in spite of the tiredom of lugging his heavy baggage. He even seemed to be trying to fathom the significance of her quiet sad eyes. Jalees stopped till he caught up with her. She experienced a sensation which was foreign in its impact. As the youngman drew nearer he said, “Please walk on, keep walking.” He finished the sentence with a stance which was full of meaning. Jalees got a jolt. With trembling hands she unlocked the room. The youngman entered the room, dislodged his heavy baggage, and opening the buttons of his overcoat said, “Please don’t forget to leave some drinking water. I may need it at night.” The jug of water and the glass were lying at the farther end of the room. Taking these few steps appeared to Jalees as if she was traversing miles. The gaze that followed her was making it impossible for her to take a single step. She picked up the jug and quickly came out of the room. She always got nervous when she became conscious of being stared at.

She filled up all the hot water bottles. It wasn’t cold enough yet for heating appliances. The atmosphere was still free of its wintery haze, the wild apricots were still with their rosy cheeks. The waters of the springs had still not got imprisoned in the dungeons of snow. That is why in fact the tourist traffic continued. But these inhabitants of warmer climates were not accustomed even to this mild winter.

“The one in room number four must be a film-maker,” she thought as she filled the bottles. She had not been able to forget him even for a minute since she became conscious of his stare. She had often thought of his last sentence “Don’t stop; just keep on moving.” And suddenly her steps had refused to move as if she didn’t know which step to move forward first.

Jalees gave the hot water bottles to the guests. Her brother again shouted for her. Her reverie broke: Only three things seemed to be real in this atmosphere: she, that wheel-chair and emerging from it that voice. The rest was all transitory like the visiting tourists. She quickly deposited the bottles and the jug in the respective rooms and came out in the corridor. From each room she took the order for dinner. When she had gone to room number four she has hesitated a little before entering. The guest was putting his jacket on the hanger. As she was returning after depositing the jug she had heard him say, “One had heard such a lot about the beauty of Kashmir but one didn’t expect that one would be confronted with it so soon.” She had kept quiet. He had continued, “There is a lot of difference between the ages of you two but you don’t appear to be his daughter.” He was referring to Nissar Ahmad. “He is my brother,” she replied quietly. He nodded and said, “I am a photographer and have come to capture the beauty of Kashmir on celluloid. I shall be here for three days. If you have no objection I would like to take a few photographs of you. There was a sound near the door. Both looked towards it. Nissar Ahmad’s ferocious face was glaring at them through the parted curtains. The wheel-chair in a moment entered the room. Nissar Ahmad shouted “Get out of my house this very minute, you bastard,” his voice sounded like the roar of a tiger wakened from his slumbers. “Why,” asked the man without losing his composure. “I have paid three days rent in advance. “That was for living here,” replied the injured tiger, “not for making advances to my sister.” And he flung the notes at him. “But let me explain,” said the man. Nissar Ahmad did not let him finish the sentence and repeated, “Get out.” For a moment the youngman kept looking at him as if trying to check his temper. Then he picked up his suit-case and his jacket and walked out. Near the door he looked at Nissar Ahmad and said, “When I admired your sister’s beauty I had seen her from the eyes of a photographer. Now that I look at from the eyes of a man, I even feel pity for her. But for the fact that you are a cripple, I would have this minute thrown you of the window.” Saying this he walked out giving Jalees a last lingering sympathetic look.

Nissar Ahmad kept on bubbling with anger long after the man had gone–dragging his wheel-chair around. Jalees was left alone in the empty room. Her hand still rested on the jug of cold water, out of which she hadn’t been able to pore out even a few drops into the empty glass. The desolation within her was a mere mirror of the desolation of the room.

This was not the first time that Jalees’ brother had insulted and turned out a guest out of Diamond Lodge. Many times, earlier, this had happened. Whenever he felt that someone was paying unusual attention to Jalees, he would quarrel with him and turn him out. This also invariably always resulted in Jalees becoming the target of his anger. This had initially robbed the smile from Jalees’ lips: the passage of time had dragged her into a world bereft of all hope, a world which held forth nothing but sadness, dismay. Sometimes she used to think: “He was never like this before. He used to love me a lot. After the death of our parents we were the only two left. When she was a child, he had lost his leg trying to save her in a snow storm in Banihal. How has that very brother become a tyrant?”

She was nearly twenty-eight now: her lips yearned for the warmth of a kiss, her long trailing dark tresses longed for a boulder to rest. When some young tourist paid attention to her, her heart missed a beat; as if the strings of the santoor had been touched. She had not been able to suppress the desire to lead a normal life. There were moments when her heart revolted against the oppression. She would think of leaving Nissar Ahmad for ever and to go and live in some place far far away. But these thoughts got brushed away, wiped out, instantly at the prospect, of leaving a cripple brother behind, a brother who had crippled himself in saving her. Maybe, she thought, these tourists who pay attention to her are only after a little fun; maybe they really are rascals and her brother rightly does not want her to fall in their trap. But if there was a decent man in this world, how would he be recognisable? As these thoughts came and went, her life ambled along waiting for the man who will kindle a lasting flame in her heart...will give her an ache which will be painful and yet full of pleasure...pangs of love.

After a long time when Nissar Ahmad came to the room, he found her lying on the bed, one hand under her cheek, her legs curled up, like an innocent child. Nissar Ahmad looked at her for a while; he wanted to give her a loving pat: take off her slippers. But he had not done this for years. His affection which had become stale with disuse, put him to shame. He hastily pulled a blanket, covered her and came out of the room. But he spent the night sitting in his wheel-chair below the window. He had spent quite a few nights like this. Whenever he felt a stone-heavy burden on his soul, he spent restless nights like this, till the early hours of the morning lulled him into restless slumber.

The first snow of the season came and what a snowfall! Diamond Lodge was nearly submerged. There was not a soul to be seen around. A death-like calm pervaded. Once in a while if a tourist turned up; he left after spending barely a night.

One night as heavy snow flakes poured down without a break, there was a knock at the door of Diamond Lodge. Not a soul had passed that way for days. Jalees looked at her brother. He thought for a while. This year even during the season not many tourists had come. Probably Nissar Ahmad’s bad temper had come to be known. He was still thinking how the long winter months will be managed. The knock came again. “Open the door,” said Nissar Ahmad. As Jalees opened it, she saw an army officer completely hidden in his heavy overcoat, but tall and erect. He gave himself a shake to get the snow off his coat and entered closing the door behind him. The heat of the room turned the few flakes that fell on the floor instantly into water.

Nissar Ahmad had a good look at him as if by way of appraisal.

“Sorry to bother you,” said the officer, “I am very tired and need some rest badly.” “Welcome”, replied Nissar Ahmad with sudden gusto, “I am glad you consider our abode a place for comfort.” The traveller took off his overcoat. The crown shining on his shoulders showed that he was a major. Nissar Ahmad was impressed–tall and healthy defence personnel always impressed him. He wished he had both his legs. “Please sit down near the fire. Where are you coming from?” Nissar Ahmad opened the conversation. “From Udhampur,” replied the officer. “The job I had gone for finished earlier and I decided to return to Srinagar.” Nissar Ahmad said after a while, “Your room is ready, if you wish to retire and rest.” Listening to this courteous style, one would have hardly recognised the ill-tempered Nissar Ahmad. “Can I have something to eat,” asked the officer, “I am very hungry.” “Certainly,” replied Nissar Ahmed. “Jalees will bring it to your room.” Jalees looked at her brother. “That is not necessary”, replied the officer, “You need not take all that trouble. Let me go and change. I shall come to the kitchen and eat.” Jalees was surprised. The guests at the lodge she was used to, wanted the maximum for their money by way of service. Many even looked for fun. What sort of a man was this?

When he left for his room, Jalees prepared the bed for Nissar Ahmad and helped him to get into it. Covering him with his quilt, she went to the kitchen. There were so few guests that it was not necessary to cook everyday. Some rice cooked the previous day was still lying. She mixed some vegetables with it, heated it and waited for the guest.

He came after sometime. She could not take her eyes off him–a broad forehead, curly hair, deep serious eyes, tall and erect. He seemed to fill up completely the kitchen entrance. In spite of herself, Jalees stared at him as he sat eating. Suddenly he lifted his eyes and smiled. This was not a cunning smile which hid in it an invitation for an amorous affair. Jalees did not feel any sense of guilt as she felt when she looked at other guests; she did not even experience a feeling of fear of her brother’s wrath which always lurked in her mind. She only felt as if in deep fog a road had suddenly been sighted.

The next day when the officer sat and talked to her brother, she went to clean the room. Suddenly under the table she saw something shining. It was a small metal crown. She picked it up and putting it on the palm of her hand she stared at it silently. She was conscious that this shining crown was as much beyond her reach as the stars that shine in the sky. “The Major will go away either today or tomorrow”, she said to herself. She put the crown on the table and then on a sudden impulse lifted it up again and walked out of the room.

The whole day she kept herself away from the Major. In fact an opportunity also did not arise that they should meet. Two days passed. The whole time her brother kept the guest busy asking him details of an army officer’s life. One day she heard him say, “I was also very keen to join the army but...” “But a War is not fought only on the front”, the Major had replied “Life itself is a battle–which must be fought constantly and bravely,” Nissar Ahmad said, “But this leg of mine...At times I feel that it has made me inhuman; turned me into a selfish monster.” His voice had an unmistakable touch of sorrow as if he was trying to stifle a sob in his throat. “What has happened to him today,” Jalees thought, “or are there some persons before whom one opens one’s heart without the slightest hesitation.” She picked up the buckets and went to the waterfall below the house to fill them. There was knee-deep snow all-round. As she went, she thought, “When will the lotus come out breaking this hard crest of snow–the harbinger of spring?” She bent down to fill the bucket. Something fell from her pocket and deposited itself at the bottom of the waterfall. It was the stolen crown. She hurriedly picked it up before the running water had a chance to role it down. And she stared at it oblivious of the passage of time. A hand from behind, suddenly, held her hand holding the crown in its grip. The Major said, “For three whole days I have wondered where my crown could have gone.” She was startled beyond belief. Continued the Major, “Your hands are ice-cold” and held both of them. Jalees looked at him and kept on looking. The Major spoke, her hands still in his grip, “Do you know why I could not leave the next day?” Jalees knew or at any rate could guess. She looked towards the window of Diamond Lodge which was just above the waterfall There was fear in her eyes. She offered the crown to the Major. He closed her fist and said, “Listen, I have still some leave. When I go I would have settled some matters with your brother. But before that I also want your views. Am I right in presuming that my feelings for you are reciprocated?” Jalees was unable to speak. Silently she prayed that every fibre of her being should speak out aloud just for a moment, a split second. But this was not to happen In any case, words are a very poor medium for expression ofdeep emotions. The Major said, “Let’s settle this way. If when I open the drawer of my table tomorrow, I do not find the crown, I shall consider myself the most fortunate man in the world. If when I on the other hand, the crown is there, I shall presume that you have rejected me. I shall leave instantly and shall never cross your path again.” Jalees could still say nothing. She however gripped the crown securely in her fist.

The next day when the Major decided to open the drawer he was self-confident and all smiles. But in a moment he was in for a rude shock. The crown lay there bright and shining. He did not touch it as if it was a burning coal which will singe his fingers. He merely stood silent and numbed. Then he packed his things almost in a stupor. As he went into the hall, Nissar Ahmad handed him the bill. He paid it in silence and went out of Diamond Lodge Jalees was not there. She was looking frantically for the crown which she had lain under her pillow. Not finding it there, she ran towards the officer’s room. Nissar Ahmad watched her, his chin resting on his hand. Almost like a mad woman, she came running towards him, spread out her hand which had held the crown and stared at him. Nissar Ahmad could not face that stare for long…

After that, life in Diamond Lodge was not the same. Every day turned into night giving birth to another day. The lotus appeared every year breaking the cruel crust of snow but for Jalees spring had gone for good never to return. Every season brought tourists but the chilling cold in Jalees’ heart stayed an ice berg. She continued to serve her brother. Nissar Ahmad also never told her that he had seen her and the Major at the waterfall. But he did not have to tell her. For Jalees his silence was more vocal than words.

Nissar was now confident that his sister had reconciled to the situation. The wheel-chair no longer spied on her. He spent most of his time in the hall for he no longer had to remind Jalees of her duty. She kept herself relentlessly busy, looking after the lodge, its visitors and the kitchen. The difference only was that she was no longer her old self: there was tiredom in her limbs. The sadness in her eyes had become a permanent fixture.

Ten years passed, ten long years, crawling slowly one after the other like a snake crawling at leisure.

One snowy afternoon when she was returning from the bazar, someone called her from near to the waterfall. The things she was carrying fell down from her hands; she stood silent as a statue. She recognised the voice. The heart gave a jolt. Time came to a sudden stop. She turned round. Yes, indeed he stood there; the same overcoat on the shoulders. With a stick he was scratching the snow. The same head of curly hair which now had streaks of grey as if the rays of the sun had got mingled in the darkness of the night.

“I had promised you Jalees”, he said, “that I shall never cross your path again. I was going for a few days to a friend in Srinagar and could not resist the desire to see you just once more.” She was near him now. “You had turned me down,” the officer continued, “it was just as well.” After a momentary silence he continued, “Jalees, are you still without a tongue?” Jalees cried. “No no no, this is not true. I did not turn you down,” and catching the lapels of his coat she gave him a violent shake. She was tongue-tied no more. The locks on her lips stood unlocked as if by magic. The emotions which she had buried deep inside her started erupting as if the burning hot lava beneath had melted in a moment the heaps of snow that covered it. She became a waterfall which tears across rocks to make its way to its destiny. Every word, every syllable that had lain dead and buried in her bosom for years came up and when she found the words inadequate, she put herself into his arms. The officer was flabbergasted. His lips got sealed in utter amazement. He could not utter a single word. His eyes stared in disbelief into the fathomless depth of Jalees’ eyes. At last he said, “Time is a cruel mocker. The opportunity that we lost due to my misunderstanding and your weakness can now never come .” Jalees looked at him stunned and tore herself away. “You don’t love me any more. You will not take me with you. Of course, I should have known. The prime of my youth has passed. I am no longer beautiful.” And she lowered her head. “This is not true”, said the officer, “If you must know the truth, here it is.” He dropped his stick, raised one of his trouser legs and threw away the artificial leg. A shriek echoed out. Jalees fell down on her knees, covering her face with her hands. The officer gave a mirthless laugh, “You know now how cruel fate is, how unmanageably cruel, how unpredictably cruel. Cripple cannot possibly be a life-partner for you. A physically incomplete man also becomes mentally incomplete. But, thank God, I am not a selfish man.” And he started putting his artificial leg. Jalees remained on her knees, her face covered with her hands, her sobs hardly audible. The Major got up with the help of his stick. Suddenly Jalees got up as if in mortal agony. She snatched the stick and put his hand on her shoulder.

“I am yours and yours alone “, she said, “Take me wherever youwill.” “And your brother...” said the Major. As these words were uttered both looked towards the Diamond Lodge window.

The window was open. Nissar Ahmad was looking at them. His dishevelled grey hair covered his forehead. The dark circles under his eyes had tears. For a long time they looked at him and he at them. The bottomless void now between them was unbridgeable. For a moment Jalees’ hands trembled. But the very next moment her grip tightened on the Major’s hand on her shoulder and they walked away.

Nissar Ahmad stared for a long time at their slowly vanishing silhouette in the snow. His thoughts were, “If only I had let her go ten years ago!” He said aloud, “Go my sister, perhaps now he needs you more than I.”

The sun was setting fast behind the Diamond Lodge as Nissar Ahmad sat with his silence.