Mamta Kalia

offer it to a man! He had thought.
That was food for which she had stored
the Gahad daal in the top hill itself and
then she had brought it down with so
much of care. She herself had cooked
it and that had a taste beyond words,
the smell itself was telling the story.
It had no relationship with m.d.h. or
everest masala. The smell itself was of
Himalayan heights and for such food
a woman can’t stop a man she likes
and tell him to wait to have taste of
it. This is nothing but tragic. But he
had to leave. He had turned back fast.
He was listening to the voice of azan
from the nearby mosque. That was not
the mosque of one thousand lights which
was just behind the Alfred Hospital.
Gujjars had started moving towards
mosque with the azan. Some one had
told him that the children of these Gujjars
study in the Madarsa which is inside
the mosque. After years one among them
becomes the preacher and one Qazee.
Then both of them sit on the cot and
take control of hukka. They were living
like this since the time of mughals. They
were peaceful citizens and had migrated
to the hills during war times. For them
Chakrata or Biharigarh was their nation.
It was neither Hindustan nor Pakistan
for them. Not even name of any other
nation. Uttarakhand which was a new
state, they never bothered for this.
Badrinath and Kedarnath were not far
away although they were on the other
side. Even pilgrims who toured the hills
from outside used to pass through them
as if they were passing though stones
or dead wood. Dehradun was not far
away from them distance wise but it
had no relation in their lives. They were
innocent people who studied in Madarsa
only. There was no role of “percentage”
in their studies. It was one hundred
percent. They were not aware of DOON
SCHOOL. They were not knowing anything
about subsidies. They were happy with
gahad ki daal, pakodas and bajre ki roti.
At the time of azan they visited the
masjid and counted the days religiously
when snow will melt and they will go
back to hill-top to live a peaceful life
in their green-land of Bugials.
But, for Pankaj snow was melting at
Alfred Hospital. He had to return. He
had returned from the door-steps of
death. The camel was waiting for him.
Sozen and Thomas must be feeling
restless. Camel with wings was not an
expert at flying in the hills. He had
to reach back in time with Thomas on
his way back to Middle-East. He was
in anger. He was feeling scared. Pankaj
too. He had said “Bye Bye” to the woman
who had a wish to feed him. He was
not an expert to fly on the wings of
the camel. He was not even aware of
the exact parking place or provision for
camel outside the Alfred Hospital.
But the camel was smart enough.
He had dropped him just outside the
Intensive Care Unit and had moved to
his parking place within minutes.
Sozen and Thomas were waiting for
April-June 2010 :: 103