THE SOUND OF slippers could be heard coming up the stairs. There was a collective increase in heartbeats around the room as their eyes fell on the tall, slender frame in the doorway. They had been trying to conjure various images of her, but the impression made by her first appearance far exceeded anything they had envisioned. There was something quite magnetic about her personality—the radiance in her attractive face, the serene yet confident expression in her eyes, the gracious demeanour that had all eyes glued to her. They now wanted to hear the charming stranger speak to them, to hear what she had to say.
Krishna lowered her eyes and bowed her head respectfully as she greeted the men with folded hands. They gently nodded their head in acknowledgement.
Her simple, elegant attire enhanced her allure in the eyes of the audience. She was wearing a white voile saree embellished by the subtle presence of lime green stems that were printed across the fabric. Her slim neck was complemented by delicate arms and a long and heavy braid that came all the way to her hips. A soft smile hovered around her lips even as her large, expressive eyes lit up her face and conveyed a message of empathy and friendship to everyone around her. The impact was visible in the warmth of the response around the room.
Satnam also greeted his compatriots with the customary ‘Sat Sri Akal ’ and they took up the two vacant chairs that had been left for them. The ceiling fan was spinning busily above them, but a couple of the participants murmured something about the room being too hot. One got up from his seat to increase the fan’s speed.
The room was quiet for a minute or so. The meeting today was perhaps the most sensitive and vital that the group had held during its short history, but the attention of the members had drifted from the main item on the agenda. That would come, but only after their curiosity about the new member had been satisfied.
Looking at their expressions and reading the mood in the room, Secretary Sudarshan Singh stood up and began, ‘It gives me great pleasure to introduce a new personality to my compatriots. Miss Krishna Kumari, who is like a sister for our comrade Satnam Singh, is in our midst today,’ he announced solemnly, throwing a smattering of English into his comments. ‘I am sure you will be happy to learn that she isn’t merely interested in our group; she is keen to participate actively. And I am confident that Miss Krishna will soon enough be known as a heroine of our group.
‘I should also add something that I’ve heard from Satnam Singh. Miss Krishna happens to be a refugee and it pains me to tell you that almost every member of her family was butchered by Muslim savages. As expected, she is deeply tormented by the need to avenge the death of her family. And it is probably this desire for vengeance that has drawn her towards our group.
‘My compatriots, I know that I speak for all of you as I assure Miss Krishna that none of us will have a moment’s peace until we have avenged the murder of each and every member of her family. May I now request all our members to approve the motion to induct Miss Krishna into our group.’
Sudarshan sat down even as the others around the table nodded to convey their assent. The rules of the group expressly forbade any member from shouting slogans or even from applauding to convey their views on a particular subject.
It was now Krishna’s turn to thank the secretary and other members. Her confidence belied the fact that this was the first time in her life that she was formally addressing an audience. The way she stood up from her chair as soon as Sudarshan had finished speaking also showed that Satnam had been thorough in briefing her about his group’s etiquette and protocols.
There was a fleeting hint of nerves as she started to speak. The first few words were hurried and there was a momentary stutter. But the tension was short-lived, as was her unease about speaking on an occasion like this. Any residual sign of nervousness quickly evaporated as her address gathered momentum, giving the distinct impression that some powerful force had entered her soul and was speaking through her.
‘My respected brothers! I want to start by dispelling any notion that I have some prior experience in addressing societies such as this distinguished group. Nor have I sought membership of the group for cosmetic or ceremonial reasons. I want to thank my brother Sudarshan ji, but I am afraid that I won’t be able to live up to his lofty expectations. I am nothing more than a faint-hearted girl and I have none of the attributes that one can be proud of. And yet, there is one thing that might make me proud. I’ll be honoured to become a worthy younger sister to elder brothers like you. Will you give me that honour?’
The group nodded in unison to express their approval. Krishna’s opening words might not have had the dexterity of the professional orator but there was a passion in her delivery that seemed to carry each word deep into the souls of her audience.
‘Yes, I am a refugee and I’ve arrived here after losing everything I had in Pothohar,’ she continued. ‘The fire for revenge is bubbling inside me like the lava inside a volcano. And I hope that my brothers will help me quench this fire for revenge.’
The members around the table lowered their heads to signal their appreciation and respect as Krishna sat down. Her good looks, refined speech, fearless demeanour, and direct appeal had cast a magical spell. They felt that the stranger had become one of them. There was just one member who appeared perplexed as he reeled under the impact of Krishna’s speech. His face betrayed the anxiety of one whose moorings have been shaken by a powerful gust and he is unsuccessfully trying to regain his balance. Or one who suddenly has a strong foreboding that something terrible is going to happen and his thoughts have been completely scrambled by that realization. That person was Satnam.
The formalities of inducting Krishna into the group were complete and an earnest discussion had started about the upcoming mission. Sudarshan took out a large, folded sheet from his file and spread it out on the table. It was a map of the city and as his compatriots pored over it, he started to explain each aspect of their mission. He pointed at particular spots on the map to highlight the obstacles that might be faced by a particular team as it targeted a Muslim mohalla, and the way they could surmount those challenges.
The team leaders looked at the map with intense concentration as they absorbed Sudarshan’s comments. Krishna also looked over Satnam’s shoulder as she heard the plans with trepidation. Discussions over the finer points of the mission continued and her anxiety soared as she heard about the death and destruction that the operation would unleash in the Muslim mohallas.
The confabulations ended and everyone followed Sudarshan into the adjoining room as the distribution of weapons and explosives commenced. A tremor went through Krishna’s body and she felt a strange numbness take hold of her. The bold plans that she had contrived after her conversation with Satnam seemed so feeble in the face of the arsenal of guns and bombs. The confidence with which she had formulated her scheme was rapidly eroding. Who will listen to my little voice amid this din of war, she wondered. She teetered on the edge for a while before finding her feet again. Amidst the darkness spreading within her, there was one ray of light that kept her going. And that was Satnam’s presence.
Individual tasks were defined and duties assigned to each member of the team in accordance with the plan. Explosives and other material were distributed as per the requirement of each team. But one item was held back for now. It was decided that the group would meet in the house on Wednesday evening at the same time and take the guns when they left. Everyone agreed that this was a sensible precaution.
Each team leader was given the latitude to choose the members of his team. Team lists were drawn up and submitted to the secretary for approval. Most of the lists were approved by Sudarshan without any debate. Satnam included Krishna’s name in his team.
They returned to the larger room and again took up their seats around the table. Each member was asked to articulate his role and responsibility in accordance with his mission so that any doubts or anomalies could be addressed. Sudarshan had a paper in his hand as he read out the names of each team leader and member of the team and asked, ‘Is everything clear?’ And upon receiving confirmation, he asked again, ‘Any objections?’ He waited for the ‘no’ in response before moving on to the next team.
He had covered five teams through this process before he came to Satnam and his team. In response to his query on objections, Satnam said that Krishna has some reservations about the plan and would like to voice her objection.
All eyes turned towards Krishna.
Had it been one of the men who had voiced an objection, the others would probably have jumped to teach him a lesson. Krishna was spared, partly because she was a woman and also because of the positive impression that she had made on the group with her initial comments. They looked at her in stunned silence.
‘What did he say? That you have an objection?’ Sudarshan demanded.
‘I do.’ Krishna’s eyes were incandescent as she replied. ‘Me, and also my leader Satnam ji.’
‘Go ahead,’ Sudarshan said with a hint of concern.
‘Thank you. And could you also ask our compatriots to bear with me for a while because my objection is somewhat lengthy,’ Krishna asserted.
Members of the group squirmed uncomfortably in their chairs, speechless as they looked at Krishna’s face and waited with bated breath for her to continue.
There was something ethereal about the way Krishna rose from her chair and her eyes scanned the faces of her audience. She felt an incredible power surge within her, an immutable force before which the seven or eight men seated around the table were little more than models of clay. Her lips parted as her tongue came into motion and the audience strained to hang on to each word emanating from her mouth.
‘My dear brothers,’ she started. ‘My brother Sudarshan had asked us if we have any objection to the plan. And all of you responded with a clear “no”. I’m the only one who has gone against the tide. I know that you’d like me to explain the grounds for my objection and I stand before you to provide that explanation. But before I do so, would you please permit me to ask you a question?’
Everyone nodded in assent.
‘So let me ask you,’ Krishna’s eyes were blazing with a divine energy as she continued. ‘This plan that you have drawn up and the mission that you will carry out in two days … is this being done on your own volition or has the guidance come from some community leader?’ Krishna looked around the table as she waited for an answer.
Struggling hard to contain his rising anger, Sudarshan snapped, ‘Our community leaders haven’t merely provided guidance, this mission has received all manner of material and financial support from them. I am dismayed that Krishna ji is viewing our constructive plan with some kind of suspicion. She should have addressed such doubts before she became a member of our group. No society or association allows its members to challenge its foundational principles and still remain a member.’
Sudarshan had perhaps expected that Krishna would pipe down after being intimidated by his outburst. That didn’t happen. He also expected other members to speak up in his support, which also didn’t happen. It is true that most of them were unhappy with Krishna’s intervention. But they wanted to hear her out and were willing to hold back on their reaction till she had said her piece.
‘Allow me to clarify on that point, respected brother,’ Krishna spoke with the same poise. ‘You say that I’ve viewed your plans and actions with suspicion. The fact is that I view those actions—yes, the same ones that you call constructive—with downright revulsion. I recognize that by the time I finish speaking, most of you will probably be disgusted with me. That won’t stop me from pouring my heart out with complete candour. You may end up hating me; you may even see me as an enemy and want to kill me or hack me to pieces. But before you do that, let me say all that I’ve come to say. Once you’ve heard me, you can decide on the appropriate punishment.’
Her words immediately created a stir amongst her audience. Some had raised their eyebrows in disapproval, others were clenching their teeth in anger. For a while, it seemed that the girl’s impudence might make her bold declaration about being ready to be hacked to pieces a reality. But there was a mystic hypnotism in Krishna’s eyes that held her audience spellbound. They wanted to say something, wanted to move from their chairs, wanted to strike her, but remained frozen in their places.
The ire of the audience was writ large on their faces but Krishna continued unperturbed. ‘Let me say plainly that your community and religious leaders, the ones giving you such guidance in your mission, don’t deserve to be called leaders. They are cowardly and spineless and what they are doing runs counter to the tenets of their own religion.’
A fresh wave of anger and wariness rippled through the room. Some members could be seen whispering something into their compatriots’ ears. Sudarshan was almost apoplectic with rage. This chit of a girl had the temerity to come into their meeting and lecture them? He wanted to finish her off, crush her like an ant by snapping his fingers. And he was even more angry with Satnam, whose recommendation had brought this girl into the group. He’d had his differences with Satnam for a while, but after the dissolution of the Unity Council he had taken the initiative to persuade Satnam to join his group because he felt that Satnam’s connections and good reputation might come in handy. Regret over his decision also triggered a fresh bout of fury that his eyes were directing towards Satnam and Krishna.
Gritting his teeth, he looked at Krishna and started, ‘Our leaders are no fools, and they certainly aren’t oblivious of the tenets of our faith. I want to know who has given Miss Krishna the right to come and decry us and our leaders in this fashion? Doesn’t she know that we are fully aware of our duties and responsibilities?’
‘Hear, Hear!’ several voices rose in unison to endorse his view. It was clear that they were deeply upset with Krishna’s remarks. Unfazed, she went on in the same defiant tone, ‘Okay, let’s accept that you are all very wise and farsighted, and so are your leaders. But my brother Sudarshan ji, I won’t accept your comment that I have no right to criticize your group. I would submit in all humility that I do have an absolute right to do so.’
‘And may I ask,’ came a voice from a corner of the table, ‘how and from where did you get that right?’
‘Certainly,’ Krishna responded. ‘You can ask me that and I’ll be happy to tell you all about it. But you’ll have to listen patiently.’ She glanced around the room and noted that several faces were glued to her words and wanted her to explain where she acquired that right. ‘Before I respond to my brother’s question about the antecedents of my right to criticize, I want to narrate a small anecdote to you. Are you prepared to hear me out?’
‘Yes, we’ll listen. Go ahead,’ a couple of voices piped up.
Krishna started in a serene voice, ‘There was a small village in Pothohar where two families lived with great amity. One family was Hindu and the other was Muslim. The families were so close that they would share a chapati from the same plate and drink water from the same glass. There was a girl in that Muslim family, around my age, called Naseem. She had an older brother named Aziz.
‘The boy and girl lost their father when they were very young and the Hindu family took the siblings and their mother under their wing. The elder of the Hindu family brought up the siblings as his own children, educated them and even took the responsibility of getting them married.
‘Lately, the communal violence reached our peaceful village in Pothohar, and Naseem’s adopted family had to get ready to leave their ancestral land. That was a real problem for Naseem and Aziz. How could they abandon the elders who had been their guardian angels and who had given them more love than their own parents. The siblings and their ailing mother finally decided that they would face death rather than desert their guardians at such a difficult time. There was much debate over their decision. The Muslim elders of their village tried their best to dissuade the siblings. The Hindu family must leave because this place is no longer safe for them but what’s your problem, the elders argued. They don’t have any option but to escape but you should not abandon your home. But neither the boy nor his sister paid any heed to this reasoning. They decided to leave with their adopted family knowing fully well the dangers they would face during their journey. It wasn’t easy because their mother died within hours of their departure. Their Muslim compatriots again appealed to them to return and complete her last rites. Despite this pressure from all quarters, they decided not to return because time was of the essence and any delay would only invite greater danger for the Hindu family.
‘Unfortunately, the presence of Aziz and Naseem failed to save the family. The group was attacked by a large horde of Muslim marauders and everyone except that old man was either killed or abducted. Naseem’s brother Aziz also died while trying to save them. Several other young Muslims who had come with Aziz to escort the Hindu families to safety also perished in the massacre. Of all the Hindu families in the group, only the old man survived; and from the Muslim protectors escorting them, only Naseem was left.
‘Think of that unfortunate old man whose failing eyesight had already made the trek a challenge. Naseem was now the only support he had; she was his eyes and his walking stick. Only the Lord knows how he walked with his hand on Naseem’s shoulder as they trekked through dangerous hills and forests and somehow managed to reach a refugee camp at Chakwal. They ended up spending several days at the camp.
‘But the time was well spent because the Baba used it to impart all manner of ethical, spiritual and practical knowledge to the girl. Just imagine that within the span of a week or two, he was getting Naseem to imbibe the entire treasure trove of knowledge and experience that he had gathered over seventy years. He would often tell Naseem, “I had such aspirations for you, my child. That I would get you married off in style, give you a handsome dowry, I’ll do this or that … But Fate has snatched everything from me. I have nothing left to give you save my blessings and some bits and pieces of my life’s experience…”’
Krishna paused for a while to look at her audience. Most of them seemed to have calmed down and were listening to her intently. Sudarshan’s eyes, though, were still smouldering with barely concealed rage.
‘Life in the camp was rough and it was dangerous. The Hindus and Sikhs assembled there were still vulnerable to an attack by a large horde. Nor did they see any secure or reliable way of leaving the camp to reach safety. Those days, the Baba was unusually perturbed by the situation in which they found themselves. Having lost his family and all his material possessions, he wasn’t really worried for himself. But he was constantly haunted by the fear that Naseem, who had started to wear Hindu attire, might be found out and taken away from him by Muslims. It didn’t take long before his fears started to come true. He picked up some whispers that someone had informed the Muslims that an elderly Hindu was hiding a young Muslim girl. The old man was at his wits’ end because he knew that his life depended on the girl. And yet, he braced himself for the worst and told Naseem, “My child! I feel the time has come for you to join your Muslim compatriots and leave me to my own destiny. I know that I won’t survive long without you but then, I’ve lived my life and I may not have many days left in any case. So why on earth should I needlessly drag you around with me. I suggest that tomorrow I take you to some decent Muslim family and hand you over to them. I happen to know several Muslims in Chakwal.”
‘The Baba’s words failed to make any impact on Naseem’s resolve. She would happily sacrifice any comfort or luxury to be in the Baba’s presence. She clung to the old man and howled in anguish, “Bapu ji! There is no power on earth that can take me away from you. Death alone will drag me away from the warmth of this embrace.”
‘That night, the two of them quietly sneaked away from the camp and after all manner of trials and tribulations, they managed to reach the refugee camp in Rawalpindi. It didn’t take long before they boarded a special train and arrived in Amritsar with a large number of other refugees.’
Krishna sat down as she finished speaking. Sudarshan glared at her as he growled, ‘So, what’s the point of this story?’
‘The point is that Naseem…’ she continued, ‘Naseem—the girl who grew up in a garden of religious amity, who abandoned her ancestral land and lost her family because she believed in the principle of amity, who willingly gave up all she had and is called a refugee today—hasn’t that girl paid the price and earned the right to stand in your midst today and question you?’
She looked once again at the faces of her audience. There was a stunned silence in the room and much of the anger and suspicion that she had observed at the start of her address had evaporated. Satnam appeared dumbfounded as he stared blankly at Krishna.
‘So is it Naseem we are seeing in our midst?’ Sudarshan fired.
‘Indeed!’ she replied. ‘But I’ll request my brothers that for now, they should continue to call me Krishna. I’ve shared something intensely personal and confidential with you today and I would ask all of you to keep it buried deep within your hearts for my sake.’
Everyone other than the secretary nodded to acknowledge her request. Sudarshan, however, was still seething with anger as he asked, ‘And can I ask for evidence to prove that you are actually Naseem?’
‘Of course! Take a look,’ Krishna said as she extended her right arm and turned it towards Sudarshan. The name ‘Naseem’ was tattooed in Urdu just above her wrist. All the young men stood up from their chairs and leaned across the table to take a closer look, their eyes riveted on the letters of the tattoo.
Krishna sat down and again glanced around the table to gauge the mood of the audience. She observed that most of them appeared deeply moved by her address and subsequent revelation. Several seemed to be in awe and their eyes appeared to convey a new-found respect for the guest. One person, though, appeared impervious to the developments, cold and impassive as he looked sceptically at her. And that was Sudarshan. Krishna wasn’t unduly perturbed by his posture. She could sense that a majority of the participants were leaning towards her.
A silence had descended over the room. The swift metamorphosis of Krishna into Naseem had left the group at a loss for words.
It was broken by Sudarshan as he started acidly, ‘I see the real picture now! You are clearly worried about the death and destruction that awaits your Muslim compatriots and that’s why you are trying to sabotage our plans for Wednesday.’
‘You are absolutely right,’ Krishna replied without flinching. ‘I am as worried about the life and safety of my religious compatriots as I am about myself. But my definition of religious compatriots isn’t as narrow as the one brother Sudarshan has in mind. Muslims are my religious compatriots because I was born in a Muslim home; Hindus are my religious compatriots because I grew up listening to lullabies in their lap; Sikhs are my religious compatriots because my late brother Aziz has returned in the form of a brother like Satnam and my departed mother Sughara has come back to me as Kesar Kaur. So, I have no hesitation in acknowledging that members of all three faiths are my compatriots and I don’t see an iota of difference between any of them.’
For once, Sudarshan was left speechless. One of the participants took advantage of his silence to interject, ‘I have to say that the noble thoughts of our sister have left a deep impression on me. She is clearly a highly evolved soul and I feel blessed that I can address such a lofty personality as my sister. But I would also like our sister to tell us what she wants from us.’
‘My brother,’ Krishna replied eagerly, ‘I would have come to this subject even if you hadn’t raised it. I hope you will give my words careful consideration. Once you’ve heard me out, it is entirely up to you to agree or disagree.’
Seeing his colleagues tilt towards Krishna was making Sudarshan livid with rage. He wanted to deliver a resounding slap on the face of the young man who was so enamoured with the girl. But he restrained himself when he observed that several other colleagues also appeared to have fallen under the girl’s spell.
‘The carnage that took place in Pothohar,’ Krishna resumed. ‘I’ve seen it with my own eyes. I’ve also witnessed the mayhem that has taken place in this city over the last few weeks. I’m not sure if I’ll be able to present my thoughts cogently because I have neither the training nor the ability to do so. All that I can say in simple words is that the mutual destruction taking place before our eyes can neither be blamed on the Hindus, nor the Sikhs, and nor on the Muslims. The real responsibility lies at the doorstep of those leaders of ours who have failed to grasp the gravity and implications of the prevailing situation.
‘I say this with a great deal of sadness—much of the violence that we witnessed in our lands in Pothohar was initiated by the Muslims. It is a fact that the incendiary speeches delivered by Muslim League leaders turned ordinary folk into monsters. But I also won’t hesitate to disagree with the solution that is being proposed. It seems akin to washing bloodstains with fresh blood. Yes, the Muslims were the first to stain their hands with the blood of their own brothers. This was evidence of their stupidity and cowardice. And the Hindus and Sikhs chose to retaliate with even greater force. But will that resolve the matter, or will it prolong the cycle of violence? Let’s take the example of the six Muslim neighbourhoods that you intend to demolish. Don’t you understand that the Muslims will react by adding a zero to that six and target sixty of your neighbourhoods? And what happens after that? You will add another zero from your side and attack six hundred of theirs? Which then grows into thousands and hundreds of thousands. And do you know who will lose the most from this mindless escalation? The girl standing before you. Because the ones being destroyed on this side are her religious compatriots. And the ones being killed on the other side are also her religious compatriots.’
‘And what you mean by that?’ one of the participants queried.
‘I mean that my creed is amity between the faiths. It doesn’t matter if those killed are Hindus, Sikhs or Muslims; each death is a body blow to my creed of amity. So, can I hope that my brothers will listen to the fervent plea of their beleaguered sister and come forth to save her belief? Won’t you bring this offering to your sister’s lap?’ She took a corner of her saree and spread it out like the jholi used by a mendicant to collect alms.
Tears were streaming down Krishna’s face. Her voice was faltering as she spoke.
No one spoke. Everyone had lowered their head and were reflecting on her words. Sudarshan alone sat glowering at Krishna and also at his colleagues as he silently cursed them for their weakness and craven posturing in front of a woman. What kind of men are these, he fumed silently. How can they be swept off their feet so easily by the beauty and words of a simple woman that they are ready to kneel before her?
Krishna continued after a pause. ‘My dear brothers! Think carefully about this! Think about who you were and what you have become. Wherever you look today, you see signs of death and destruction. The spires of temples, the domes of gurudwaras, the minarets of mosques—all are being razed to the ground. Sacred memorials and tombs are being vandalized. The holy pages of the Vedas, the Guru Granth Sahib and the Quran are being used as wastepaper. People are desecrating the ruins of places of worship by converting them into toilets and urinals. And those that have survived are being converted into bomb factories and arsenals that can add to the carnage. Are these the new symbols of your religious adherence, the faith that you repose in your God? Alas! How I wish you would take a step back to look at the bigger picture. Again, I am not disregarding the slaughter of so many of my brothers in Pothohar and the Frontier Province, nor the dishonour to which so many of my young sisters have been subjected. But are you going to hold innocent children responsible for their actions? Children who are entirely oblivious of your religious fervour and communal hatred. I would have been pleased if you had fought like men, organizing yourself into a force that attacks the Muslim mobs and makes them pay for the havoc they wrought. But where’s the manliness in the kind of attack that you are planning on Wednesday, an attack that would be carried out in the dead of the night against unarmed and peaceful people, an attack where you would hurl bombs that would target, maim and kill women and the infants they are still nursing with their breasts, the old, the infirm, and the children who haven’t even felt the earth of these lanes and bylanes under their tender feet. Is that your sense of responsibility? Does your religion allow you to attack the young and the old, women and the infirm? Can you tell me if any religion allows this?’
Seeing no one respond, Krishna went on, ‘Let me be candid. I accuse you all of being cowards, plain and simple. It’s a far cry from the brave warriors that you think you are. A real warrior would never carry out the kind of acts you have committed or the one you are so eager to commit. The young man of Punjab has never been guilty of cowardice, but today I am compelled to give you all an epithet that you have earned.’ By way of explanation of the epithet, Krishna started to recite one of the two poems that Satnam had scribbled on his letter pad, the ones that Krishna had learned so that she could recite them from memory.
Lowering her head in a gesture of respect to the participants, she started to recite in a melodious voice:
‘This poem is called “The Murderous Punjab”
‘You brute! Such violence on innocent folks you wrought,
Such calamities on lands rich and happy you brought.
Why did you?
‘Pampered sons of mothers,
Pulled away and put to sword
Loving brothers of sisters dear,
Pushed into flames by your horde
Young brides left grieving, their vermillion lost.
Why did you?
‘In the blood of your own
You dipped your hands, you beast
Drove kirpan and dagger,
Into innocent chest to feast
Go drown in shame you fiendish brute
What brought you to this world of ours
Why did you?
‘Watching innocent kids writhe in pain,
Why didn’t your eyes just burn away?
Trying to rob your sisters’ honour,
Why didn’t your hand just wither away?
Shame on our youth, for tainting elders’ name
Why did you?
‘In Mother India’s bosom
You made a wound so deep
Around your neck should hang
A placard of shame, you creep
’Cause the world won’t forget, these sins of yours.
Why did you?
‘May the bolt of retribution divine,
Come from the skies to strike you dead
To enter this impure body of yours,
To rip out that rotten soul you bred
O Murderous Punjab just pause and think,
Is this your manliness true?
Why did you?’
Krishna looked around as she finished reciting the verses and was shocked by what she saw. Everyone had lowered their eyes and quite a few of them appeared moist.
She waited a while before starting once again with the same verve and passion. ‘I hear you all shout “Revenge! Revenge!” And you’ve leaned upon this desire for revenge to plan the death of hundreds of innocent souls. Who are you targeting for this revenge? Please forgive me, my brothers, but I must say that your call for revenge is nothing more than a call for a new wave of destruction that you will bring upon yourself. If you really want revenge, come and join me. I’ll tell you how to take real revenge. Would you like to hear about my method for revenge? As I said right in the beginning, I also have a fire within me that seeks revenge and I…’
‘Krishna ji!’ Sudarshan’s roar echoed around the room. ‘Stop right now! I won’t allow you any more time to continue with this rambling and pointless speech of yours. Please sit down!’
His intimidating voice came as a jolt to Krishna and it took her a few seconds to regain her composure. Her confidence was bolstered by a cursory look around the room, which showed that the majority was still on her side. She was still mulling over the merits of countering the secretary’s directive when a voice piped up, ‘I think secretary sahib should withdraw this ruling. It is a sense of the House that Krishna ji should continue with her address.’ Around two-thirds of the house nodded in his support and left Sudarshan ruing the turn of events.
‘In that case, let’s get ourselves ready,’ Krishna resumed with renewed vigour. ‘Let’s get our weapons ready. Because I was speaking about revenge, right? So, let’s take a pledge that we won’t rest until we’ve obliterated that demon.’
‘Which one?’ came a voice from the end of the table.
‘I’ll tell you which one,’ she raised her pitch. ‘The one who is my enemy, your enemy, and the enemy of all our future generations. The one who has feasted on the blood of countless thousands and still thirsts for more. The one who has reduced our towns and cities to rubble and still isn’t satiated. That enemy of ours is the evil demon of communalism, the one that has ruined our nation’s reputation in the eyes of the world, the one that has tarnished the name of our religions. Have the youth of our dear Hindustan come under the spell of this demon to such an extent that they don’t squirm for a moment while killing innocents and violating the honour of young maidens? Have our noble Hindustanis and Punjabis been reduced to this level of degradation? If that’s the case, I’ll earnestly pray to the Lord that the people of this land should be consigned to the darkest place in Hell before daybreak…’
Krishna’s rousing address was interrupted by the siren announcing the onset of curfew. It triggered an instant commotion in the room because everyone had to reach the confines of their homes within ten minutes of the siren. ‘Wait!’ Krishna shouted at the top of her voice. Everyone stopped in their tracks as she continued, ‘I’ve pretty much said everything I wanted to say. The rest can wait for another day. In view of the time constraint, I won’t delay anyone from leaving. But on your way home, do reflect on what I’ve said today and my request to you. That’s all from my side.’
Everyone other than Sudarshan had craned their necks towards Krishna and were looking closely at her. ‘There’s no time now to lay out my plans for us. For now, let me just make a final request. I propose that Wednesday’s mission be kept in abeyance for now.’
Sudarshan rose to challenge her proposal. ‘This is completely unacceptable. No power on earth can change our mission for Wednesday.’
But none of the other members stepped forward to voice their support for Sudarshan. Indeed, most seemed to voice their opposition to his assertion.
There was a mild uproar in the room for a minute or two. But the clock was ticking and one of the young men suggested a way out of the impasse. ‘All in favour of Krishna ji’s proposal raise their hands,’ he called.
Apart from Sudarshan, everyone raised their hands in support. The decision was clear. Wednesday’s mission was suspended for now.
‘In that case, here’s my resignation,’ Sudarshan fumed as he scribbled a couple of lines on a paper and handed it to Satnam.
The participants quickly went down the steps and left the building.