AFTER DROPPING NASEEM at the grove, Boote Shah decided to walk across the farmlands to his own cotton plantation. He was in a particularly pensive frame, questioning the rationale of his recent actions and apprehensive that matters could well take an unexpected course. The night had also been equally restless as he fretted over the import of delivering Yusuf’s message to Naseem. ‘What have I done?’ he pondered. ‘How can any brother so brazenly discuss such a delicate matter with his sister? If Krishna had been around, she would have been Naseem’s age today. Would I have dared to have a similar conversation with Krishna? And what about the person whose message I am carrying with such earnestness? Does he deserve my recommendation to become the life-partner of a girl like Naseem? Just a few days back, the entire village was buzzing with tales of his misdeeds. And here I am advocating that we place our trust in a character with such an unreliable reputation? That doesn’t say much for my own wisdom, does it? Okay, agreed that I may have done the right thing as a friend. But is my sister’s life less precious than my fidelity to my friend?’ Over the course of the night, Boote Shah’s mind often drifted to elements of his conversations with Yusuf. ‘I have done no wrong,’ he would reassure himself. ‘If Naseem also loves Yusuf the same way, why shouldn’t we help them come together? After all, we have the responsibility to make sure that Naseem gets married. If we find some other suitable match for her, don’t we run the risk that the death of her first love could cloud the rest of her life?’
He spent much of the night mulling over these issues. Naseem’s first reaction on hearing about Yusuf last evening had given him the confidence that he could be proud of his initiative. But he had a change of heart as he thought more deeply about the matter. Yusuf’s mercurial nature was well-known and his nikah with that woman in Rawalpindi was evidence that his professions of love for Naseem could also prove transient. If Yusuf could turn his back on his childhood love and get infatuated with some debauched woman, where’s the guarantee that he wouldn’t do the same again? That made up his mind. He would go across to Naseem’s place and persuade her not to see him. Leaving home early for his morning constitutional, he was heading for her place when he saw that Naseem was already on her way to the grove. His mind flipped once again. If Naseem is going on her own volition to see Yusuf, she must have been pining for him. Instead of trying to discourage her from going, he decided to accompany her to the well. As he walked with her, he reasoned that he wasn’t setting aside his reservations about Yusuf. He was what he was. But no one could have any doubt about Naseem’s character. Let the two meet and she could decide on the next step.
And yet, there was a sense of disquiet as he went about his work. It had taken him around two and a half hours to finish the round of his farm and he was sure that Naseem would have returned home by now. But he found his legs unwittingly pull him back towards the grove.
The hut was empty and Boota’s heart sank as he looked inside. He bent low to pick up fragments of golden yellow glass bangles scattered across the floor. He found it hard to breathe as he looked at the pieces he was clutching in his palm. Something terrible has happened, he thought. His heart was thumping in his ears and he could feel his legs buckle. His eyes brimmed with the pain of death itself.
Taking a deep breath, he pulled himself together and started to run towards the village. The news had already spread like wildfire. ‘Yusuf has molested Naseem.’ It was on everybody’s lips.
He ran into Allahditta as he was entering the village. The young man narrated the entire sordid episode in detail, adding that Yusuf hadn’t dared to enter the village. He also mentioned that a bunch of hefty young men from the village had gone out with their sticks looking for him.
Allahditta’s account gave Boote Shah some comfort. An altercation had taken place but fortunately, Naseem was safe. He thanked Allahditta profusely for saving the honour of his foster sister, showered blessings on him and set off for his home.
Boote’s grief over the unfortunate turn of events was overshadowed by an even larger fear of his father’s reaction. How would he handle the shock when he heard about the assault on Naseem? He thought it best to head straight home even though he wanted to drop in at Naseem’s and check on her. Upon entering the haveli, he heard the voices of some of the village elders who were sitting waiting for Baba Bhana. A few others had joined them.
He got the drift and decided that it was best to tiptoe around them and wait quietly in his room. A little while later he heard the Baba, who had been tied up with a patient all morning, enter the haveli. A few more minutes elapsed before he heard a crackling voice, ‘Oye Boote! Come here right away.’
It was his father’s voice alright, but there was a harshness to it that he had never previously heard from his mellowed personality.
‘Coming, Bapuji,’ he said and froze in his tracks when he entered the room and saw the expression on his father’s face. His eyes were burning with rage and there was a tremor on his lips that was causing his beard to shudder.
The Baba’s right hand was clasped around his walking stick and as soon as Boote Shah appeared before him, the stick came crashing on his back. He staggered under the force of the blow and the Baba was getting ready to lift the staff again when some of the guests got up to grab his arms.
Finding himself restrained by several pairs of hands, the Baba roared like a lion, ‘May you rot in hell, you wretch! Look at the muck you’ve rubbed on my grey hair. What did I do to deserve this kind of ignominy at my age? Now, come clean and tell us where you took the girl at the crack of dawn.’
A few of the visitors got up to tend to Boote Shah, massaging his injured back and urging him to sit with them. He felt his head spinning, partly due to the injury and in larger measure due to a sense of acute shame. The walls of the room appeared to be spinning before his eyes.
‘Go stand there amid the shoes,’ the Baba bellowed again. Like a puppet following its master’s commands, Boote Shah went to the corner where the visitors had left their shoes and slippers before entering the room.
‘Did you take Seema to the well?’ the Baba barked as he gnawed at his lips in anger.
‘Come on, Babaji,’ Chaudhry Fazal Karim placed his hand on the Baba’s shoulder, rubbing it gently as he spoke. ‘Don’t be so harsh on the boy.’
‘Harsh?’ the Baba rolled his head from one side to the other as he crackled. ‘Chaudhry, you are telling me not to be harsh after the way he’s muddied my reputation? All these years, he’s never given anyone the slightest opportunity to complain. I used to count my blessings. I would even tell people that they should wish for a son as decent as mine. A soul so gentle that you wouldn’t notice his presence. And now? He thinks he’s one of the local thugs! How I wish this boy had never been born! If I had any inkling that you would turn out like this, I would have given you poison while you were still an infant. Get out of this house right now, you wretch. Or bring me a handful of cyanide and I’ll do the rest.’
Boote Shah felt as if a paralysis had gripped his vocal cords. He wanted to speak but the words refused to emerge from his lips. He finally croaked, his voice sounding like one of those flutes that has a crack running through it, ‘I made a mistake, Bapuji. But there was nothing wrong with my intentions.’
‘Nothing wrong with your intentions?’ the Baba sneered. ‘Oh sure! What could be wrong with your intentions? After all, you only took the girl on a pilgrimage to see a well-known holy man! Can’t I see what you are up to? First you commit a sin and then you try to cover it up.’ His temper had flared up again and a hint of froth could be seen trickling down the corner of his lip.
‘Speak up! Why did you take the girl to that fellow?’ he raised his voice in irritation when Boote Shah didn’t respond. Boote Shah remained mum. The Baba moved to grab his stick from the Chaudhry’s hand and roared, ‘Who’s stolen your voice? Answer me now!’
‘Bapuji!’ Boote Shah tried to moisten his lips with his tongue as he stood in the corner amidst the many pairs of shoes. ‘I will tell you everything. And if you still find me guilty after listening to the entire story, I will blacken my face before these elders, get on a donkey and leave this village in disgrace.’
‘No, young man! Please don’t say such things,’ the Chaudhry admonished him before walking across and pulling Boote Shah’s arm, urging him to take a seat beside him. ‘No, Chaachaji. I won’t move from here unless Bapuji asks me to.’
‘Sit down,’ the old man’s lips quivered as he thundered. Boote Shah left the corner and sat on the floor near the Chaudhry’s knee.
He had barely sat down that the Baba’s hand again moved towards his stick. The Chaudhry moved quickly to grasp his arm. ‘Enough, Babaji. Leave that cane alone. I have stayed quiet out of respect but…’ he spoke firmly.
‘Don’t worry. I won’t do anything to him.’ The Baba’s trembling hands clasped the cane and left his seat. Without saying a word to his guests, he headed for the rear door that led into the house. They waited in silence, none daring to question where he was heading.
A few minutes later, the sound of the walking stick could be heard again. The Baba was carrying a round brass pitcher which had a somewhat dirty and fraying cord wrapped around its neck. The mouth of the pitcher was sealed with wax and a tin foil.
Holding the cord in his hand, he went across to Boote Shah and placed the pitcher on his head. ‘Booteya! What have I placed on your head? Do you understand its importance?’ he demanded.
‘It’s holy water from the Ganga, Bapuji.’
‘Then swear by the holy waters of the Ganga that you will speak the absolute truth.’
‘I swear by the holy water and I also swear by your feet that I will tell everything truthfully,’ Boote Shah bent to touch his father’s feet as he spoke.
The Baba removed the pitcher from his head and slung it from a hook on the wall behind him before returning to his seat.
Boote Shah started to outline the case in his defence. ‘Everyone in this village knows that Yusuf is my closest friend. Although he is a few years younger than me, we have been friends from the very beginning and the bonds of this friendship have only become stronger over the years.
‘You also know that I look at Naseem as my own sister and have a special affection for her, especially since Krishna’s death. I have often thought that the Lord snatched Krishna from us and sent us Naseem in exchange.
‘You would remember the house in which Sugara Chaachi and Naseem used to live before they moved here. I mean their old house. Yusuf was their neighbour at the time, and while he is a good three years older than Naseem, the two grew up playing together. We always knew that they were fond of each other, but it was only recently that I learned that they are in love.
‘I won’t hide anything from this august gathering. I still care very deeply about Yusuf but I can’t say the same about his habits. While he was in the village, he was always involved in some nuisance or the other. When his maama took him to Rawalpindi, I heaved a sigh of relief even though I often missed his company.
‘After he had left for the city, his mother hinted to me on at least a couple of occasions that it would be wonderful if we could arrange his marriage with Naseem. I liked her suggestion but I also worried that marrying her to this ruffian would lead to a life of misery for poor Naseem.
‘Yusuf’s mother passed away and Yusuf was tied up with his maama in the city. That was the end of the matter, I thought. But Yusuf started sending me long letters from Rawalpindi in which half the narrative was about Naseem. He went to the extent of writing to me that he would take his own life if Naseem refused to marry him. I didn’t pay much heed to his entreaties initially. But after reading quite a few of his letters, I started to feel his pain. I also reasoned that he now had a job of sorts and if I were to take the proposal to Bapuji and Sugara Chaachi, I might get their consent. I decided to informally broach the subject with them. Sugara Chaachi was very clear in her mind that it was up to Bapuji to take a view on this matter. I then took it up with Bapuji. He was distinctly lukewarm about the idea and said, “The boy is a bit of a vagabond. I don’t want to do anything that might wreck the girl’s life.” And that was it. I never had the nerve to raise this subject again with Bapuji. But I also wasn’t unmindful of the turmoil through which my friend was passing. This was manifest in every letter of his, often declaring that he was counting on me to sort this out and warning that I might see him dead if I didn’t.
‘I would reply to his letters with the advice: “Yusuf, first make yourself worthy of Naseem. If you do, I will do my best to help you. God willing, you will get what you cherish.” I also advised him that instead of working at his maama’s workshop, where he’d spend the day beating iron with his hammer, he ought to look for some kind of government job. If he managed to get in at a young age, he could reach a position of some consequence. He followed my advice and managed to get a job with the police. But God alone knows what came into his mind that he fell into that woman’s trap…’
Boote Shah paused for a second as he mulled over his choice of words. He was in the presence of elders and didn’t want to use any uncivil vocabulary. Of course, the audience already knew about this particular matter, but he continued his narrative in a more circumspect fashion. ‘Yusuf’s action came as a real shock to me and I soon found myself developing a strong aversion towards him. And yet, when he came to the village this time, he just poured his heart out. He kept crying about his miserable life. He was so emotional that I was also moved to tears. I should also confess that I might have played a role in his misadventure in the city. You see, I made the mistake of writing to him that Bapuji will never agree to his marriage with Naseem and it would be best for him to give up this dream of his. That might have been the reason he fell into the web of that woman. He told me the whole story when I saw him the day before yesterday.
‘I’d thought that he would go on and on about Naseem but that wasn’t the case. He did mention her, but in such a way that it really touched my heart. He said, “Brother Boote, I am convinced that I can keep trying my best till Judgement Day, but I won’t be able to make myself worthy of Naseem. I have given up my dream of having Naseem as my life-partner. But I also know that I won’t live very long after losing Naseem. So, I’ve come today to bid farewell to you and to take your help in delivering one last message to Naseem. I have tormented her on so many occasions and I really want to seek her forgiveness…”’
Boote Shah’s voice choked with grief and he found it hard to continue. Pausing for a while, he cleared his throat and swept his hand over a fold of his turban before resuming, ‘To be honest, I didn’t see any trace of duplicity in Yusuf’s words. I was convinced that this fool might actually take some extreme step, and that I had to do what I could to save him.
‘Now let me come to the matter of taking Naseem to the grove. I don’t deny that I accompanied her to the grove, but I believed I was doing this to help both of them. I wanted to give them the chance to come face to face and decide what they wanted to do. If Naseem were to give her consent, I thought I would once again take up the proposal with Bapuji and try to persuade him. How could I have known that he would turn out to be such a lowlife? So here I stand before you. If you feel that I have sinned, please feel free to unleash your shoes on my head…’
Boote Shah lowered his head before the audience and continued, ‘I agree that it was inappropriate for me to have acted in this manner. The very fact that I am discussing such personal details about my unmarried sister is wrong. But I have sworn by the holy waters of the Ganga, and also by Bapuji’s feet that I would tell the whole truth. Otherwise, I would rather have torn my tongue out than spoken about such matters.’
A murmur of approving sounds went around the room as several voices heartily endorsed Boote Shah’s remarks about Naseem’s innocence.
Boote Shah continued, ‘I was absolutely convinced that no matter how depraved Yusuf might be, he could never bring dishonour to his friend’s sister. But that devil acted absolutely contrary to my expectations. I was wrong about him, but I was right about something else. When I was escorting Naseem to the grove, my heart told me that irrespective of any misbehaviour by Yusuf, I had the fullest confidence in the virtuousness of my sister. I was sure that even Satan himself couldn’t weaken Naseem’s resolve. I am happy that on this count, at least, I was absolutely correct.’
As he completed his defence statement, several members got up to pat him on his back. The Baba seemed embarrassed that he had acted in such inordinate haste, but the embarrassment was compensated by a sense of vindication that his son had done no wrong.
‘We always knew that Boote Shah could do no such thing,’ the Chaudhry exclaimed. ‘He’s grown up before our eyes. We know him much too well for such a trait to be hidden.’
Trying to atone for his own outburst, the Baba said, ‘You are absolutely right, Chaudhry. That’s the very thought that made me blind with anger. Otherwise, how could I think such a thing about my own son!’
The panchayat ended its meeting.
Boote Shah heaved a sigh of relief.