Kripal Singh's Precious Possession
The cerculean sky had already changed its hue, it was sometimes purple and sometimes orangish and now almost drenched with blood, ever since man had turned barbaric and behaved worse than animals. There was a strange look on everyone's face. Each face was full of horror and doubt, for it was the dawn of 14 th August, 1947.
The grand Haveli of Kripal Singh in Rawalpindi , was not spared from this barbaric act too. It was well affected , traces of broken , scared, shattered were now visible on the exterior surface too.It was just the previous night, when those masked men ,simply butchered a dozen of Kripal Singh's Hindu and Sikh neighbours.
The air, the leaves of the trees, and the flowers of Rawalpindi smelled of nothing else but blood. None of his two children, his wife or his parents had managed to sleep for nights. They hid in the underground passage beneath the grand Haveli's basement, since the time they saw the familiar faces they knew for years turn into real monsters overnight.
Like many Sikh families residing in Rawalpindi for generations, Kripal Singh, had been running a flourishing business too. He had a cotton mill in Rawalpindi. His bulk load of spun cotton were of the finest quality. These were supplied to different parts of India including Amritsar. He had earned a great name for himself during all these years. His buisness had been flourishing now over two decades. His distributor and suppliers were impressed by his quality, loyalty, dedication and also to add the cherry on the cake, was his courteous behaviour.
Each of his clients bought the materials in bulk order from him over the past two decades. Amongst all of his regular clients was the most regular and lion hearted, Zunaib Sheikh, who was a resident of Amritsar . He had been living in Amritsar for over a decade.
At a time when known people had turned violent ,there was oneam , who was absolutely an exception. It was Zunaib Sheikh. He was amongst the first few people who decided to inform Kripal Singh to be prepared of the adversity. He had written a letter to Kripal Singh, just a fortnight back.
Kripal Singh read it for almost the tenth time during the last one week, after the severity of the riots kept on increasing. The paper had almost crumpled in many places. It read-
Dear Kripal Singh ji
Times are really, not going to remain the same. All of us are getting geared up for the unpredictable future, as you must have started witnessing the horrifying change in the attitude of people around you, so are we witnessing the horrible experiences in Amritsar. I want you to send me a bulk order. Do send it to my address at the earliest. This time, I would not be able to pay you right away, but will pay you in full, once I have received the entire order. Hope you stay safely and securely with your family in Rawalpindi.
Yours Sincerely
Zunaib Sheikh
Kripal Singh, still held the letter in his hand on the dawn of 14 th August and then hurriedly looked at his family members. "Lets run away from here, those terrorists have already damaged the Haveli and there is nothing left for us to look back. They have burnt the mill too. I have no savings, if someone can save us , it is Zunaib Sheikh. Lets go to Amritsar," Kripal Singh told his family members.
They had hardly got any time to pack up their belongings. They left with only one bundle of clothes and some money. They left their home, their dwelling of years to step into an unknown future. An unknown future waited for them. But they were helpless. They knew that they had to surrender to accept whatever, destiny had in store for them.
"Papaji , can we not stop for a while somewhere? We have been walking since the break of dawn. We are all exhausted. We have not eaten a morsel since morning. Beeji is feeling extremely thirsty too."
Kripal Singh's eldest son Sattinder, tried to convince him to stop for a while. But Kripal Singh replied with a strong tone.
"Puttar, this is not the time to stop . We must continue walking until we reach a safe place. The entire path is full of hurdles. The mob can attack us from any place anywhere. Have you not seen how they are picking up the girls and women and attacking them. My only hope is to reach Amritsar at any cost before the sunset. Once we reach there, we will be safe and will be able to survive through this barbaric holocaust."
Kripal Singh's words gave a spark of hope to all his family members. They continued to walk further. Soon they heard the scream of a young girl. Kripal Singh took out his sword and headed straight towards the direction of the scream. Behind the bushes, a young Sikh couple. The wife was at the advanced stages of pregnancy. She could barely walk and screamed to save her and her unborn child.
This was the most challenging part. Kripal Singh and his wife Kammo tried to comfort the couple. The man, Sukhwinder stood infront of them with folded hands and said .
"Please save my wife. We have been walking since the past two days. My old parents died walking on this harsh conditions this morning itself. It was heart-breaking. I could not even perform the last rites of my dead parents. I am extremely shattered after this incident. My wife Pammi is too weak. I don't know if she can survive through this ordeal."
"Have faith on Wahe Guru, my son. He will surely help us during these difficult times. Remember that , tough times don't last long, but it's the tough people. Look at us we don't know anyone else except for a client who takes bulk order, I don't know anyone in Amritsar. But we are determined to reach there at any cost puttar. So we have to continue with this tedious journey at any cost with the only wealth that we have with us. It is a spark of hope that better days is awaiting for us at the end of this sunset. Lets just walk for a few more miles, I am sure we will soon reach the abode of Wahe Guru. He will help us at any point of difficulty. Do not lose hope. For miracles do happen."
As Kripal Singh said this, his wife was busy rubbing Pammi's hands in order to relieve her, after making her lie down under a thicket. The sun was blazing and it became difficult for everyone to continue walking after a while, but they continued the journey. Along with hope a strange fear choked them. Pammi, felt that perhaps a snake had twisted around her throat. It was trying to choke her up completely. She released a sharp shriek before turning unconscious. At this point it was difficult for her to walk. Sukhwinder and Sattinder carried her for almost the rest of the journey.
It was not before noon on that red letter day that they had been able to reach till Gurudwara Panja Saheb in Hasan Abdal. The entire Gurudwara was filled with hundreds of refugees, who had taken refuge. The entire holy ambience had a horrific look. Orphaned children sat helplessly all around them , while widowed women wept helplessly. They took shelter in the Gurudwara for a while. Pammi was still unconscious,before they poured some water on her face from the huge drum. But unfortunately, she was too weak. Thus Kripal Singh continued his journey again, with a harbinger lamp well lit in his soul .
His wife and children too, walked on, with the never ending, tiresome journey, for they were knew that they had to reach their destination before the twilight hours. Kripal Singh was confident that his friend would give him a shelter, so what if he was not of his religion, Zuneib Sheikh did possess a heart of gold. He was indeed going to prove himself as a harbinger of hope. This is what gave Kripal Singh and his family, abundant hope.
By the time the golden sun set across the horizon on that fateful day, Kripal Singh and his family ,along with those thousands of immigrants entered India , through the Wagah border at Amritsar. Setting foot on this country ,made Kripal Singh feel much lighter.The weariness of the tedious journey had taken its toll on each member of his family. They only hoped Zunaib Sheikh would help them.
It was around six in the evening , when Kripal Singh walked ahead leaving the members of his family , to rest under a huge banyan tree. He headed straight to the address mentioned by Zunaib Sheikh.He had to search for almost an hour before he reached the correct address. The golden Sun spread its rays on the purple horizon ,before setting in the west. Yet as he knocked on the door asked for Zunaib, some unknown people appeared and declared,that the address where, Kripal Singh used to send his materials in bulk, was the same but Zunaib Sheikh had left that dwelling.
The fact that Zunaib was not staying in that address any longer was shocking for Kripal Singh. He could not accept the fact that his harbinger of hope had to abandon the house. The house appeared to have been damaged to a great extent too.
By this time, Kripal Singh was feeling desperate, restless and frustrated with everything . He sat down in front of a godown of rice and dal merchant just beside Zunaib's address. Suddenly, Kripal Singh, the man with the most optimistic spirit felt absolutely lost. Before he knew, he was sitting down on his knee and began weeping. He realised that he had no where to go now. He had lost everything, but he did not want to lose his hope. This was his most precious possession. All of a sudden, his last resort of hope and trust seemed to turn bleak.
Kripal Singh felt absolutely shattered but he did not want to surrender . He was a firm believer of a change in destiny. He still remembered a day in his childhood, when some robbers had entered their haveli. He had fought with them bravely. Finally, after two hours of continuous fight, he was able to make those robbers give up. They could not take a single piece of jewelry with them. This incident had given him enough confidence, a sense of hope which helped him to be prepared never to give up. He sat down with a new sense of hope recalling this incident.
Meanwhile, his family kept waiting for Kripal Singh. They saw the entire city burning in flames. They didn't even have a drop of water for hours and felt dehydrated. All of them were now turning anxious, for within a couple of hours a tough night would embrace them in an unknown City. Already, they had left their roots. They had crossed the border trusting the words of one man and his thick bond of friendship which he shared with someone from an unknown City. Everything was appearing fictional. Moreover,the fact that Kripal Singh was not returning worried them now to their core.
Kripal Singh,got up to ask about Zunaib Sheikh, with the last ray of hope that was left in him.
"I want to try it for the last one time. For hope is what the world is built on. It can only keep us moving.
Kripal Singh was lost in these thoughts, when someone spoke to him.
"Darji, who are you ? Where have you come from? Why are you weeping like this?"
Kripal Singh look around and the stranger who spoke to him politely. The middle-aged man, came near Kripal Singh. He introduced himself as Lala Keval Rai.
"I am the dal and rice merchant. You seem to be new here. Have you come from Pakistan?"
Keval Rai's warm approach, made Kripal Singh a little comfortable.
Kripal Singh now spoke between his sobs
"I am Kripal Singh , I was the owner of a cotton mill in Rawalpindi, but now I am absolutely penniless. I have just reached with my family here . I only knew of my suplier Zunaib Sheikh here and I trusted him the most. He had advised me to send a huge order of printed cotton fabric . He had promised me to pay the whole amount on receiving the order. Now upon arriving here, I have not been able to trace him . He seems to be lost. Could you please help me find him. My family is waiting under the old banayan tree . It is vital for me to meet him. For ,its only he who can give us a safe shelter here. "
As Lala Keval Rai , heard the words of Kripal Singh, he asked him
"Darji, can you please show me something as your proof of identity or even a document which shows that you have sent the goods to Zunaib Sheikh?"
Kripal Singh promptly took out the documents and was about to show it to Lala , when he said ,
"Yes , these are my documents , but why are you asking me for these details?Do you know Zunaib Sheikh. He is a very good friend of mine. See this is the letter he sent me."
Kripal Singh tried to prove his point showing the crumpled letter to Lala Keval Rai.
"Zunaib Sheikh ,used to live here but ever since the situations started becoming worse, he packed up his stuff. He had finally left for Pakistan last morning , but before he left , he came to me and left this money with me. He said , please,give this to Kripal Singh, when he arrives here. He has trusted me and I can't break his colours of hope."
Lala, Keval Rai's words lit up Kripal Singh's core. They sparkled up with a new vigour, a spark of victory. "So he did trust me!" Kripal Singh spoke with a sigh of relief.
"So I was not wrong putting my precious hope on my beloved friend, Zunaib Sheikh. Wahe Guru Ji is indeed great. He does guide everyone , who has faith in him , specially one who believes in hope."
As soon as he received the envelope, Kripal Singh headed near the Banyan tree to share the reason of his new found happiness and reason to begin a fresh chapter of their life during the hours close to India's Independence.
Lala was happy seeing , Kripal Singh have a great trust over his friendship . He was so moved by the amount of trust Kripal Singh had in his hope that he could not tell him that Kripal Singh's order had never reached Zunaib's address. It was burnt near the border. Zunaib Sheikh knew it well that his friend would arrive, so he had kept the cheques with Lala Keval Rai to be handed to Kripal Singh on his arrival.
Kripal Singh hoped that his friend Zunaib Sheikh was safe in Pakistan with his family.
***
Glossary: Papaji -The way father is addressed in Punjabi Puttar - The way a child (a son) is addressed in Punjabi Waheguru - In the name of lord in Punjabi. Cover Dredit: Life Magazine Penmancy gets a small share of every purchase you make through these links, and every little helps us continue bringing you the reads you love!