“Alla Hu Akbar Allahhhhhhhhhhhh” announced the mikes fitted on the pillars of the village mosque. “Its 5:30 AM” whispered Juman Miyan and left his bed, took the lotta (a steel utensil filled with water) kept under the bed and left for field. It has been the routine for Juman Miyan for last 50 years. He would wake up early and go directly towards his fields. Once he is complete with field’s inspection and has attended to nature’s call, he would reach the bridge over the river that flows by the village. The bridge is situated in the north-east corner of the village and acts like a gateway for the village. Many respected elders of the village would have reached the bridge by the time Juman arrives. Babu Kamaldev Singh would share national news that he had heard in 6:00AM bulletin on his radio. He would be chewing a long daatun (villager’s brush) in between his teeth. Others would sit surrounding him from all side. Govind Mahato would pass some comments on every news and would be continuously staring at the bank of river where many children would be playing and doing their morning chores, occasionally scolding someone who has gone deep into the river. It was a daily routine for the entire village’s elders.
“Election dates have been announced. It would be held next quarter in four phases” informed Babu Kamaldev Singh and chewed his daatun for a longer duration. It gave some time to Govind Mahato to pitch in with his comments, “kya karna?..These elections do no good to us but the politicians. Our life has always been the same” and shouted at a boy who had swam up to middle of the river.
“Naah….this time we will make sure that promises made by the politicians are fulfilled after the election” added jumman Miyaan
“ Ohhh Jumman…nothing will happen. We have repeatedly been promised roads and electricity but I think we would not be able to see good roads and electricity in our life time” said visibly sad Kamaldev Singh and other elders nodded in unison.
“Don’t lose hope Kamaldev babu. Last time MLA saab fulfilled his promise and opened a primary school in our village” said confident Jumman Miyaan.
“School with no teacher….It has two teachers who never bother to visit” added Govind Mahato.
“ acha bhailog…I am leaving. I need to go to fields” informed Kamaldev Singh and took out the daatun from his mouth and went towards the river for bath.
“Hmmm..even we would leave” echoed all the elders and meeting was off.
Jumaan Miyaan returned home after completing all his remaining morning chores along the bank of river and shouted for meal. His daughter Razia came out with water and plate full of meal. He ate and left for fields with his pair of oxen. Villagers generally have three meals a day- one before going to field, in the field and the last before going to bed. Their meals are quite heavy and their hard work justifies it.
“Hoorhhhhh………hothhhhh” Juman Miyan kept shouting and maneuvered his oxen through the labyrinth of village’s narrow passage like an expert, occasionally sharing pleasantries with others, lazily sited on the front of their house. Village was like a big family where one knew all and Juman Miyan never felt alienated even when he was following Islam in a Hindu majority village.
“ Kaaki!! I am not going to leave you this time, you will have to prepare the delicious for me this dussara” informed Juman to the mother of Babu Kamaldev Singh, who was 80 years old, on his way.
“Naah…….I will not prepare anything this time. I am too old now. I have brought daughters-in-law who are good cook. I hope they will prepare delicious food for you” said kaaki and inquired” If you are going to your fields…bring some fresh chana for me”
“ offcourse kaaki but you have more chana planatation than me. I am a small farmer compared to you son babu kamaldev singh” said Juman and laughed heartily.
“No...No…your chana are the tastiest” countered Kaaki and Juman noded and maneuvered his oxen towards his field.
Kaaki would always ask Juman to bring chana from his fields, though she had more chana plantation than him and he would always bring a bunch of fresh chana plants for Kaaki every evening. This gesture was an emotional act as Juman’s mother and Kaaki were very good friends and Kaaki looked after Juman like a mother when Juman’s mother died. It was a mother son relation, not by the birth but heart.
Juman had been living in this village since childhood. His father was posted in the local post office and though he originally belonged to Bengal, it has become his home since then. He was the only son of his father and fathered only daughter Razia before his wife died while giving birth to their second child. Memories of his wife and commitment towards his daughter Razia never allowed him to marry again. His income from his small land holding was enough for the survival of two member family. He would save some money every year for Razia’s marriage. That was the sole aim of Juman Miyan.
“Once Razia gets married, I can die peacefully” Juman had repeated this sentence many a times to fellow villagers and all would agree. In a patriarchic society like India girl child is always looked upon as a disadvantage and their marriage is one burden that bothers her father from day one.
Razia would play with other children when Juman worked in field. She would be in babu kamaldev singh’s home for the whole day, playing with babu kamaldev singh’s children. Juman would take her back while returning in the evening. Her best friend was Mehir, son of babu kamaldev singh. They would roam aimlessly around the village with other children, occasionally stealing mangoes from other’s orchid. Mehir would always keep the best mangoes for Razia and carry her on his arms when she got tired.
Days passed and Razia blossomed into a beautiful girl and Mehir joined Armed forces. They would meet occasionally whenever Mehir was on leave. Mehir would tell fascinating stories of armed forces. They were inseparable and shared all their secrets. Mehir would tell how he managed to escaped from his camp to watch movies and Razia would share her secret about her visit to Mela without Jumman’s knowledge.
That had been a tough day in field. The left boundary that separated jumman’s fields from others gave away and the all the standing water for rice plantation from neighbour’s field entered jumman’s field which he had not even been ploughed completely. He tied the pair of oxen in the mango tree planted at the corner of the field and started blocking the cracks in the banking. It took quite a long time and by the time he reached village it was dark. Jumman directly went to home but Raiza don’t reply even after repeated shouting. He tied oxen to naad( a big conical shaped earthen material made object in which cattle eat) and put some hay with water in it. Razia didn’t come back by then.
“She must be at babu Kamaldev singh’s home. Mehir has come back and she is always with him. They are still children” thought Jumman.
He washed himself and ate some morning roties that were kept near the chullaha. “Ohhh..this girl has not even prepared food today. Its limit now. I will scold her ….every time gossiping with one or the other…how long will it go” thundered Jumman and left for babu kamaldev singh’s home with bunch of chanas that he had brought for kaki.
There was something different today. It was dark and none of the homes had put laltern (light) on the terrace. It was all very silent and he found none on the road. All dark….no shouthing…..even the dogs were missing from road…..”I hope everything is alright. Has someone passed away that the village seemed to be engulfed in sorrow” thought Jumman and his hearth skipped a bit with this thought. Tense and fearful …he started taking big steps and was worried about Razia. “Where is she? Can’t she be at home...Why does she keep on roaming all over the village…..but what can she do? How can one leave all day in a lonely home?” kept thinking Jumman...he was full of worry and reached kamaldev singh’s home.
It was full dark and its doors were closed. This was the first time he found kamaldev singh’s house so deserted. “Kamaldev babu…….kamaldev babu” shouted Jumman but got no reply. “Razia….Razia”..again no reply. Jumman got worried and started patting on the door.
“Jumman…Jumman…don’t make sound and come here. Have anyone seen you coming here?” asked kaaki slowly from the side window’s small crack.
“No..No kaaki but where have all gone? I found no one on road...It’s all deserted. What has happened? Why are you inside? Where is razia?” inquired worried Jumman and wipped off sweats from his forehead and offered the bunch of chana that he has brought for her.
“wh…Jum….Jumman” said kaki and started crying inconsolably. Jumman was standing puzzled and blank.
“What happened kaki…don’t worry….let me know everything “assured Jumman.
“It’s all over Jumman. Sab khatam ho gaya……all have become devils” said kaki and signaled Jumman to stand behind the pillar so that none could see him.
“Elections were announced yesterday and today’s afternoon news bulletin announced that Jairam Pandit, leader of opposition party was killed while campaigning. This lead to rumor that it was done on the behest of other religion’s fanatics. This news spread like a wildfire and local police office was burnt and local tailor, bakery and madarsaas run by people of other religious faith were burnt and owners murdered. This lead to brawls all over between two community and Govind Mahato who was returning from his fields unaware of the development, was murdered” informed kaki and again started crying.
“Thanks kaki….You saved Razia. Please keep her with you. I will take her back when the things are back to normal” said relieved Jumman.
Kaki could not stop crying and said,” I’m sorry Jumman. Mujhe maaf kar de mere bête……….Razia came running to me in the afternoon and I kept her inside the house. Mehir and Kamaldev returned after an hour and were volatile and had death on their head. They just had been informed about Govin mahato’s killing and at once they saw Razia, he attacked her. I could not do anything Jumman. Mehir kicked out Razia once he had his revenge. Razia, shocked and betrayed, jumped into the well.”
Jumman felt vacuumed and blank. He had no remorse, no hatred and had no fear. He stepped back and walked away.
“Jumman…don’t go my child…they are searching for you. They have gone towards your field. …jumman..jumman” cried kaki.
Jumman was walking but didn’t know where to go. He was not weeping….the tears had dried down. Razia in no more…..Mehir ..Mehir did that to Razia who was like his younger sister. They were best friends. Allahh….is this you world? Images of past, of Razia playing with mehir, Kamaldev singh cajoling Razia…..were passing though his conscience. Jumman kept on walking aimlessly...praying to meet one mob which could free him of all his pain and trouble. He reached home and freed his pair of oxen. They gave Jumman a surprised look and continued eating from the naad. Jumman walked ahead and had no sense of his where about. He reached bridge and could hear the jingles of water flowing beneath.
The reflection of stars in river seemed as the stars are flowing on earth. One of those stars resembled Razia and tears started flowing. He cried inconsolably. He cried for Razia, for all who lost their life to satisfy the greed of politicians, he cried for himself, he cried for Mehir, for kaki, for Babu Kamaldev Singh and for humanity.
Two days later, an unidentified body was found on the bank of river in the nearby village. Police asked babu kamaldev singh to come for identification. Babu kamaldev singh identified the body and said, “It’s of Jumman Miyan, a co-resident of my village.”
Simultaneously, “Alla Hu Akbar Allahhhhhhhhhhhh” announced the mikes fitted on the pillars of the village mosque.
