Pritpal Singh Bindra

Rukhsana remained in her chair, placid and contemplative. The Judge had already left and the Court Room was quickly emptying. Her lawyer grabbed hold of her hand, shook it lightly, and said, "Well, congratulations...."

"Congratulations?" she responded as if from oblivion, then jolted her head, "Oh... yes.... Thank you very much...."

"I've to go now. There is an important meeting in my office and I'm already late." He picked up his bag and left the room.

She got up very gently, and slowly paced towards the door.

Kazi Rasul Muhammad, the Head Priest of the Mosque, was watching her in puzzlement. He could not comprehend the cause of her gloominess. He followed her out of the building and said, "Beti, you must feel relieved now. You have won the case."

"Have I?... yes I have.... Sorry, I was not in myself. My mind was wandering far away," she replied.

"You have been granted almost full custody of your son. As per the Judge's instructions, you are solely responsible for Sameer's education. This is the main reason the Judge decided in your favour."

"Kazi Sahib, it is, in fact, the result of your untiring efforts. I am wholeheartedly obliged to you for all that hard work." She pushed the words out with strained emotion.

"Allah is Kar-saaz, God is all dexterous.... We must leave now. We are already quite late.... We can drop you home?" the Kazi asked.

"No, Kazi Sahib, I am not going home. I have to buy some clothes for Sameer. I am going to the Broadway Shopping Center," Rukhsana replied.

"All right if you so desire.... Khuda Hafiz then," and the Kazi walked towards the VW Caravanette waiting on the road in front of the main gate. As he occupied the passenger seat he observed Baij Nath saying good bye to the Pundit Jee, the Priest of the Hindu Temple, and walking towards Rukhsana.

"No fuss.... If you like you can have the keys of the car now but I would prefer if you waited till I emptied the boot. It is full of my personal belongings," Baij Nath said, offering the keys to Rukhsana. As a part of the settlement, the car had been given to Rukhsana so she could take her son to the play-school. Baij Nath was granted possession of all the furniture and electronics in lieu.

Rukhsana, still in daze, said, "Baiju...."

"Baiju?" Baij Nath was perplexed by Rukhsana calling him by his affectionate name. For the last two years, since their first skirmish, she had been addressing him as Lala Baij Nath, stressing upon the word ‘Lala’ to taunt him for his affiliation with Hindu religion.

"Baiju... I am very much tired. You drive and I'll sit with you."

Baij Nath shrugged his shoulders, stepped towards his car, and opened the passenger door for her. Unmindful of the Kazi's attention, she jumped in the car. Baij Nath started the engine. When he drove away, through the mirror, he noticed, and sensed that the Kazi was murmuring in rage.

It was just after four in the afternoon. As usual, the congested London roads were already clotted with cars. To both, the four miles from Ealing County Court to their destination in Old Southall looked like four hundred miles, four thousand miles, and they were far, far away in the distant past.

Rukhsana's father, Ismail, and Baij Nath's father, Tulia, were merely little boys of eight when they lived with their parents in the out-buildings of the Mansion. The Mansion belonged to the Government in the British Protectorate of Bhusan. Bhusan was a princely state in the Shivalik Hills in Northern India. The grandfathers of both, Rukhsana and Baij Nath, were the loyal domestics of Sir William McAcliston--the British Resident General.

Sir Williams's wife had died a few years earlier. His son, Morris, a victim of polio, could hardly walk. That was the reason why Morris was not left back home in Scotland. Sir William had brought an English Nurse and a Nanny with him from England to look after the boy. An English tutor had been arranged to attend the boy at home.

Morris was roughly same age as Ismail and Tulia. Whenever Ismail and Tulia came to the Mansion with their fathers, Morris was overjoyed. Sir William noticed cheerful ecstasy on the face of his son in the presence of Ismail and Tulia. He instructed the Nurse, the Nanny, and the Tutor to let Ismail and Tulia play with Morris as he pleased. Under the directions of their fathers Ismail and Tulia rendered unquestionable service to the boy. Having picked up a few words of English language, Ismail and Tulia became very popular with the English staff. In five years both became ‘Sahib’ too, semi-English boys. Their habits became alien to the native people of the town.

A couple of years later twenty-two tiny princely states of the Simla Hills were included in Sir William's jurisdiction. He had to go out to their capitals very often and was seldom home to share the dinner table with Morris. Morris could not eat alone and asked Ismail and Tulia to join him in the dining room at meal times. Originally the quantity of the food laid was just sufficient for one person. Morris ordered the chef to triple the quantity, and not to allow any person to come to the dining area under any circumstances except Ismail and Tulia.

The three enjoyed the food: beef, pork, mutton, fish, and chicken--irrespective of their religious affiliation. Other domestics, out of sheer jealousy, started gossiping. Ismail, a Muslim, was eating pork and Tulia, a Hindu, never said no to beef. The hearsay reached Sir William. On realizing that the company of Ismail and Tulia was keeping Morris remarkably happy, Sir William reprimanded the cooking department. The British Raj was at its peak, consequently no body dared to gossip any more.

The final date for the independence of India was drawing nearer. Sir William was already on leave prior-to-retirement. The parents of Ismail and Tulia had long since gone back to their village homes. Ismail had taken over all the out door work, the gardens and shopping. Tulia was in charge of indoor duties, maintenance of the kitchen and upkeep of the interiors. Tulia was barely sixteen when he got married; his parents needed a helping hand in the village to manage the little farm and tend the animals. When Ismail went on two weeks' holiday, his parents arranged his nikah with his twelve years old cousin.

The thought of leaving India and depriving himself of the company of both Ismail and Tulia haunted Morris; how would he pass his days confined to their secluded ancestral castle in Acliston in Scotland; who would come to him to make him laugh; and who would help him to walk beyond the four walls of the house? He was very much concerned and asked his father if he could persuade both Ismail and Tulia to come to Acliston as well. When Ismail and Tulia learned about the proposal, they were extremely pleased. Their parents agreed too, but on one condition--they must take their wives with them; the parents did not want any one of them to come back with a second wife as had happened in a number of cases, especially in the upper echelons of society.

In Scotland, the servant quarters occupied by the families of Ismail and Tulia were quite magnificent. Here, too, they took over the separate outdoor and indoor duties, but the snag was that they had to work very hard, and long hours--they did not have the army of junior servants to boss around as in India.

Their wives contributed labour in certain areas, but they would never eat in the Castle kitchen. Ismail's wife vomited at the sight of the pork. Tulia's wife, a strict vegetarian, could not enter the kitchen when meat was cooked there. Both the ladies ate at home. Apart from tea and home made sugar-candies, the women never shared any food.

Tulia was blessed with a son, Baij Nath. Two years later Ismail had a baby daughter, Rukhsana. Morris felt great pleasure when the children were brought to him. He did not want the children to end up in domestic services; both started growing under his protection and the influence of their fathers.

They were sent to residential public schools, all expenses paid by Morris. Both were quite brilliant and had no problem in getting into universities.Two years after Baij Nath completed his M.Sc. in Aircraft Engineering, Rukhsana earned her Master's in Sociology. In spite of the chagrin of their mothers, their marriage was celebrated lavishly, Morris meeting all the costs.

When Baij Nath was appointed Senior Engineer in the British Aircraft Corporation complex near Heathrow Airport in West London, Rukhsana was accepted as a Supervisor in the Social Services Department, Southall. Southall was predominantly inhabited by Indians and Pakistanis. As she spoke both Punjabi and Urdu, her job was to deal with the domestic problems of the people, mostly illiterate women. Under the influence of her mother she was reasonably comfortable in both the languages. With monetary help from Morris, they built a brand new house just off Southall's High Street, not far from Heathrow.

When Rukhsana's mother visited Southall, she was overjoyed to see a mosque around the corner. She asked Rukhsana to take her there. Her religious veneration awakened and she became very close to Noor Bibi, the wife of the Kazi, the Head Priest. She spent more time with Noor Bibi than sight-seeing in London. Before she went back to Acliston, she urged Rukhsana to see Noor Bibi to get some Dini Taleem, Islamic Education, which she would need to impart to her child. Rukhsana was pregnant and expected her first child in four months.

Rukhsana's job involved her visiting people's houses and whenever she was passing near the mosque, she called on Noor Bibi, and spent some hours with her. The Kazi taught her a few verses from the Holy Quran. The one that effected her most was Sura II 221, ‘Do not marry unbelieving women (idolaters), until they believe.... Nor marry (your girls) to unbelievers until they believe. A man slave who believes is better than unbeliever, even though he allure you’

Was Her husband inferior to a slave, she wondered and became concerned. Subtly, she resolved, she would influence him to learn how wonderful Islam was. From what she had learned so far, she judged, it was the best religion in the world.

To begin with, after reading Sura II 173 that enunciated, ‘He hath only forbidden you dead meat, and blood, and the flesh of swine...’ she stopped cooking pork. To keep from arousing Baij Nath's suspicion, she never bought beef as well. Red meats were bad for health, she told him. She confined her cooking to chicken and turkey. She was satisfied that her previous consumption of swine was pardoned under the same verse, ‘But if one is forced by necessity, without wilful disobedience... then is he guiltless.’

Baij Nath's religious knowledge was limited to a few stories his mother had recited to him from Ramayana and Mahabharta, the great Hindu epics. Rukhsana's constant coaxing regarding Islamic ethics roused his Hindu mind. He had passed the traffic light at the crossing of Lady Margrette Road and Southall Broadway hundreds of times but had not noticed the Saffron flag outside the Hindu Temple, just near the corner.

It was rush hour. He was moving very slowly. He noticed the flag fluttering, and impulsively turned his car into the Temple. Pundit Jee, the Priest, was delighted with Baij Nath's eagerness to learn Hindu philosophy and ethics--especially in comparison to Islam.

The Priest gave him a handful of reading material and then showed him the English translation of Satyarth Prakash by Swami Dayanad Sarswati, "This is a rare book in my collection. It was published in 1908, the later editions are devoid of certain material. Swami Daya Nand has been quite explicit in pointing out the follies in most religions. He has dealt with Islamic absurdities at length in Chapter fourteen. You must show this to your wife."

One morning, before the breakfast, as usual, Rukhsana recited the first verse of the Quran in Arabic.

Baij Nath added in English, "In the name of God, Most Gracious, Most Merciful."

In great surprise Rukhsana looked into his eyes. Momentarily she became happy. Maybe her subtle persuasion had worked, she thought.

He continued, "You say that the Quran is the word of God. But the above verse shows that its author is somebody else; for had it been made by God, he would have not used the expression: In the name of God.... And Merciful?... And secondly, if he forgives and shows mercy, why has he... permitted flesh-eating.... Are not those animals... made by God? ...the Mussulman butcher pronounces the phrase, ‘In the name of God’--Bismillah, in splitting the throat of cow and other animals. If that is its meaning... the Mussulman commences the doing of evil in the name of God."

He opened his brief case and took out a stack of papers. He had photocopied all of Chapter fourteen of Satyarth Prakash, "Islam is the most intolerant religion in the world. The Quran instigates fighting and killing, ‘Fight for the religion of God against those who fight against you. And kill them wherever ye find them....’

Here, read these and you would know what Islam is really about.... If you like I can leave this book with you. It will tell you what the real prophecies were. The Vedas are the only true revelation; neither has there been any before, nor after."

For Rukhsana, the offensive was quite out of the blue. She took the papers to the mosque to discuss them with the Kazi.

The next morning, she addressed her husband as breakfast was finished, "Thank you very much Lala Baij Nath Jee, you have enlightened my mind. I was totally in dark. I want to tell you a few things about your Vedas too.”

“So your Vedic religion is tolerant. You know what is said in Sama-Veda Part II, ‘Bewildering the senses of our foemen, seize thou their bodies and depart.... Attack them, set their hearts on fire and burn them: so let our foes abide in utter darkness....’ Atharva-Veda XIX says, ‘Cleave through... my foe', my adversaries' heart; Rise thou and batter down their heads.”

“And you know what Gootama-dharma Samrti V says, ‘Do not hold discourses with non-Vedic dharmis.’ You complained about the treatment of animals without realizing how your religion treats human beings of low-caste, ‘If a Sudra (low-caste) happens to hear Vedas then it is king's duty to drop molten lead and wax into his ears; if a Sudra were to recite the Vedic Mantras the king should cut off his tongue... Gotama Samrti:12.’”

The interpretation given to Rukhsana by the Kazi conflicted with the purport perceived from Satyarth Prakash by Baij Nath, and it ensued the altercation. With the birth of their son, Sameer, the trouble took a worse turn. Rukhsana was bent to get Sameer circumcised, an important token of Islam.

Instigated by the Kazi and the Pundit each commenced legal proceedings. They lived in the same house, but occupied separate rooms and cooked at different times. They did not want the people in Acliston to get the wind of their quarrel till the time the matter was settled in the Court. Moreover, they were coaxed, by their legal proteges, not to abandon the premises or the infant; who ever left would be the loser in the end.

Baij Nath applied sharp brakes and stopped the car in front of their house.

"Rukhsana, we are home," Baij Nath said.

"Home?... Are we?"

"Rukhsana, what's the matter with you? Till this morning you have been fighting me like a devil... and now... I don't understand...."

"I just feel that it has to end this way."

"Then?"

"Then?" She stretched her body, raised her head to show pride and added, "Then what?... Don't misunderstand my placidity. Allah forbid, there is no question of me abandoning my stand."

Baij Nath jumped out of the car and slammed the door. When he unlocked the house, he heard the telephone ringing.

"Hello," he said.

"Where have you been?" It was Sir Morris's Secretary, "We have been trying to contact you both since this morning. From your offices we learnt that you had day off."

"What is so urgent?" Baij Nath asked.

"Sir Morris had a severe stroke. He is in intensive care. He has been asking for you two constantly, and Sameer.... Better catch a plane to Aberdeen.... A car will be waiting for you at the airport."

After informing Rukhsana, Baij Nath said, "Let us forget about me moving out of the house today. I'll do this when we get back. Morris had a serious stroke this time. Pray God he pulls through."

"All right, I'll go and collect Sameer from the play-school and you contact the airline," and Rukhsana left the house.

Sir Morris could barely open his eyes and lips. With a very faint smile he looked at Sameer and then, with great efforts, moved his vision to look at Rukhsana and Baij Nath. He closed his eyes for a few seconds and turned his eyeballs to the side where his lawyer, from the law firm of McIntosh & McIntosh, was standing. Very slowly, he again moved his eyes towards Sameer. He stared intently, then closed his eyes--forever.

Sameer inherited everything belonging to the McAliston family under the guardianship of Rukhsana, Baij Nath, and a senior partner of McIntosh & McIntosh: Sameer must stay in the Castle along with his parents till he was eighteen, at which time he would assume full responsibility for the Estate. But until the time he was twenty-five he could not sell, buy, or alter the Estate without specific consent, in writing, of Rukhsana, Baij Nath, and the lawyer.

Sir Morris's secretary expressed his inability to manage the Castle and huge Estate alone by himself. He persuaded Rukhsana and Baij Nath to leave their jobs and move back to Acliston; under the condition of the will, they were required to live in the Castle with Sameer anyway.

In the wake of confusion wrapping their minds, they did not want the eruption of new bickering. Without talking much to each other, they quietly arranged their separate quarters in the house, and flew back to Southall to wind up their lives there. They decided to put the Southall property in the hands of the estate agents for letting.

In Southall, both had nearly packed all their personal effects. Baij Nath had put all his books in a cardboard box. He sat in a very contemplative and pensive mood for a few minutes. Then suddenly he tilted the box over, piled the books on the floor, and sorted them in two lots. Rukhsana stopped her work and looked at him curiously. He pulled out a black bag and dumped all the books of one lot in it. Hanging the bag over his shoulder, he moved towards the door.

"Are you going somewhere?" Rukhsana asked.

"Yes, I am going to the Library to turn in these books."

"But they are not the property of the Library. They are your own books."

"They are all religious books. I won't need them. I am going to denote them to the Library. People of civilization can read them," and he walked out.

Rukhsana stood there for a few minutes, in deep thought. Her mind kindled. She ran out. Baij Nath had just put the bag in the boot of the car.

"Wait a minute, wait a minute," she shouted, "Bring the bag back, I have some books to add as well."

She rushed to her room and started sorting her books into two piles.

Copyright ©2002 Pritpal Singh Bindra. About the author