Next Page >> Annexation Part 2 - Chenab - Rupinderpal Singh Dhillon Part I - Jhelum Rupinderpal Singh Dhillon 1839 Serpents plot 1 Lahore             Himmet Ali stopped and stared. In front of him the huge fort of Lahore loftily peered down at him. The red brown walls were one hundred feet high, with the entrance sitting between tow tall circular towers. They looked like large flat planks strapped together with tow huge cords of stone. The gate’s mouth beckoned him. He looked up at Satwant for his approval.             Satwant too was awe struck. They had travelled many days, and heard many stories on the way, about the funeral. About the bazaars of the city. But nothing had actually prepared him for the sight of the Mughal City.  That morning they had travelled beside the river Ravi, across the alluvial plain, following the winding river until a mile to the south of the Ravi, Lahore pounced out sitting above the plain, like a lion spotting its prey. Some parts of the city within the fort could be seen from the river because its centre sits on a high ridge along the east and west of the fort’s northern face. Faces! There were thirteen mouths to choose from to enter the lion.             Satwant tugged at the camel’s reins, indicating to the animal and Ali to move on across the rampant encircling the city and a moat, which joined with the Ravi. They moved beside this until they were under the nine metre high walls. They traced around the circular road running beside the rampant until they were below one of the gates. The area was busy with activity. People walking backwards and forwards, some trading, some shopping whilst others rushed around the Sikh Khalsa soldiers who guarded the gates. What really astonished Satwant was the number of Muslims. There were so many women in burquas and Muslim men in caps.             Satwant stopped the camel a few feet away from them. The animal bent down and let him off. He was not sure by which gate to enter the city. He did not want to get into trouble with anyone. More importantly, he was here to join the Khalsa army, and wanted to know the quickest way to their base. “ Inshallah!” exclaimed Himmet. “ This place is larger and more wonderful then I thought!” “ I know. It is huge. I’m not sure what to do next. Guard the camel. I’ll be back.” Satwant moved towards the lifeguards standing across the rampant. “ Sat sri akal. I was wondering, I do I find the Khalsa?” He asked the largest of the three men, wrapped in red cottons and silks. “ Khalsa? Why everywhere! We are all Khalsa,” laughed the man. “ No, what I meant was the Khalsa army.” Satwant smiled “ The army? Why?” The man asked. “ I want to join them,” Satwant stuck his chest out. The man stepped back, looked up and down at Satwant and then laughed. The others joined in. Annoyed Satwant peered into the man’s eyes evenly. “ Achaa. You want to be a soldier? Whose division? Whose side? Hira or Shere Singh?” The lifeguard asked. “ I do not know who they are?” replied Satwant. “ Do not know who they are? Where are you from boy? Never mind.” He looked towards his comrades knowingly, “ He wants the mori gate on the south side doesn’t he?” “ That’s right. That will take him straight to the army.” Sniggered one of them, “ Khizri is I think the quickest way in no?” “ What the Sheranwala gate, yeah, that would be it. Do you like lions boy.” “ Stop mocking me. I am not afraid. I am Satwant, son of Nand from Padori. Trying to fool me will get you in to trouble..” “ Boy, do you know who we are? We can arrest you. Gaol you. Do you want to come in to the city or not” said the large man. “ I want to see Hari Singh Nalwa.” There was silence for a short while. “ Go to the south side Mori gate.” The larger man said flatly. “ Sat sri akal, rab rukkha” Satwant replied and put his hands together in respect. The man just waved him on. He walked back to Himmet Ali. “ Let’s make our way to the south side of the city.”             Satwant looked back at the men as his camel stood up and then trotted away. He could see the men laughing amongst themselves. He did not entirely trust them. He had a good memory for faces, and would not forget, if it turned out to be a trick. “ Himmet, be careful. I’m not certain at all that we have been told the truth.” “ We can always ask someone else inside?” Himmet replied. “ That we can. I can’t believe that I am here. At last my dream has come true. As soon as we find the army, I want you to go home and find out what is going on. I don’t think father would let me in so easily now. He may because of my wife. Still I don’t think I could face him.” “ But you can face the rest of the world and the army?” Himmet peered up with a mock blank look. Satwant did not reply. “ Sati, I only got here. I don’t want to go straight away. A few days won’t matter now?  I want to see the Golden Mosque, the Shalimar gardens and Anarkali market.” “ Achaa, You are right. It’s too late. I’ve made my choice. Let’s see the city of Lahore.” Satwant smiled.             The two men and the camel stopped outside Mori gate. There seemed to be less people here, but there were some people going in and out. The lifeguards stopped them, asked a few questions, and then with suspiciously bemused looks on their faces, let them pass. As they moved through Satwant noticed a rancid smell, and a flow of refuse swimming down the centre of the street through the drains of the city. On entering the city, he noted men and women at work, sweeping the floor, packing junk into carts and carrying bales of hay. Anger shot across his face. “ Himmet, climb up onto the camel.” He ordered. “ Sati, it’s okay..” begun the wide eyed boy. “ No. We have been made fun of. That waste will sully your feet. C’mon.”             Himmet climbed up and sat behind Satwant holding on tightly. He looked around at the people, as the roads became narrow and smiled. It seemed like a nice place to him. After a while the roads became very narrow and they had to get off their camel and walk with it through slimmer roads that suddenly became busier. Hundreds of people walked about at differing paces. “ What was all that about then?” he enquired. “ Mori, Get it? It’s the Chumars gate, Himmet. The Untouchables!” He felt some shame for differentiating, knowing what his father would say. But he could not help himself.             They then found themselves in a courtyard. It was the Lahori Mundi market, spread out in several large and small streets ahead of them. This was where the original population if the city resided, thus giving it its present name. Satwant decided that he wanted to find out quickly where he can find a proper soldier. Looking around for a warrior, he could not but help notice the beauty of the bustling city. Everywhere he looked, all he could see was people selling their wares. They seem to occupy every cranny and nook. Shoes and cloth traders, ubiquitous as those selling homegrown fruits and vegetables. The traders were allowing their customers to taste the food that they were selling, proudly proving the quality of it all. Negotiations over the price of sugar cane, or a silk scarf or onyx chess set could be heard. Not much different in principle from the market back home, thought Satwant. Bartering seemed universal, although a lot more colourful. Back home. He could not allow that to come into his mind now.             A cart selling corn on a stick distracted Satwant, blocking the narrow passageway ahead. The heat from the burning coals, as they cooked and warmed the cobs, rose and rushed around Satwant’s head. Satwant watched the corn popping on the husk as it was stuck on the coals. He felt hungry. They hardly had any money left, and little freshwater. He indicated to the trader to move aside, refusing to buy the corn despite himself. Further up the roads narrowed again before opening up besides some fountains into wider passageways.             Anarkali bazaar was before them. Satwant had heard Himmet ask a passing fakir, who told him what they were seeing. Himmet had become very excited, and kept on saying “ Inshaallah” again and again. Satwant had to calm him down. Ahead of them several lanes moved out in a sparkling maze of colour, threading through barely passable alleys. The stools and shops have plenty of leather ware, glass bangles, and embroidered garments. There were stools selling beaten gold and silver jewellery, silken scarves, turbans and Kashmir rugs, which probably took at least a year to make. Satwant had to admit, that the city’s markets were in a different league from the ones on Swarn Singh’s land.             Satwant saw an Akali Sikh like the one who had come on that decisive day to Padori. He left Himmet and the camel at a leather store. He would ask this man where to find Hari Singh Nalwa or the Khalsa army headquarters. As Satwant walked across the lane, a Palanquin, carried by two large men came around the corner. The side of the palanquin had panels carved intricately with small holes through which Satwant could barely make out a woman’s outline. It stopped in front of the shop selling Kashmir shawls. The men lowered down the palanquin, and opened the door.             A woman stepped out, wearing a beige silk salwar-kameez, embroidered with gold string. She wore gold anklets from which swung black and white pearls. Her hands were gloved in gold jewellery with long nails on thin elongated hands, plated in red rose nail varnish. Her gold silk dupatta covered he head and most of her face. All that could be seen were bright green eyes, slightly protruding and very round. On the centre of her forehead was gold button inset with a large pearl. Her eyes met Satwant’s for a moment, lingering like a curious cat’s. Then she moved towards the shop. Satwant was mesmerised, until one of the men, a mammoth Muslim wearing a metal helmet, with a crescent jutting out of the top, gave him a cold look. His attention returned to the Sikh Nihang. The Sikh warrior had started walking down one of the lanes. Satwant hurried up to him. “ Forgive me sir. Where can I find the Khalsa army office?” Satwant asked the man. “ Why?” The Sikh quickly scanned the fledgling before him. “ I want to join the army sir.” Satwant stood in the noblest and warrior like pose he could muster. “ Achaa, you want to make your way to the Masti gate, near the Diwan-E-Am. There outside the gardens you will find the Khalsa army office young man.” Before the man was able to tell him more, Satwant heard a yelp. He turned around to see the lady from the palanquin lying on the ground, the shop keeper shouting “ Thief” at the top of his lungs and one of the two Muslim men, large crescent like sword drawn running down a narrow lane after someone in a purple coat, whilst the other helped his mistress up. As if by instinct, Satwant dashed away from the Akali, past a bewildered looking Himmet Ali, down the lane, chasing the two men.             Satwant had no idea where he was, or where he was going. He could hear others running behind him shouting out thief. Ignoring them, he carried on down the lane at great speed, forcing some to step into alcoves or shops, as he tried to keep the large Muslim in sight. Then he came to a standstill as he found himself at an interjection. There was an alley snaking to the left, a small pathway to the right, and two crowded lanes ahead. The others had caught up with him and some of them changed their minds, whilst others debated which route to take. Satwant looked about him, and saw down the left alley a silver Crescent bobbing up and down. Not waiting for the others he sprinted down the alley. At the end he found himself in a cul-de-sac, with weavers and craftsmen looking at him from their shops in wonder. He frantically looked around and heard some baskets fall, hens scream and jump about. To his right he saw the Crescent helmeted man trying to climb up one of Lahore’s red sandstone walls. On the top of the wall the purple coated figure raced over and jumped into the next street. In the figure’s hand Satwant had spied a gold chain with a cluster of pearls dangling from it like teardrops.             Satwant sprung past the Crescent helmeted man, toppling him, and climbed up onto cart, grabbed a curtain dangling from a room above, and oscillated above the throng of shoppers onto the wall, nearly sliding off himself. Tightening his grip he managed to climb to the top and then jumped down, falling in a cart filled with manure. He stood up quickly, shook himself and jumped down, and rushed passed the cart’s owner who swore ate him. He could still see the purple coat. The figure now ducked into an alley on the right hand side. Satwant slowed himself down, wiping some of the muck off his tunic. He did not have to push through the crowd. The smell made the people part like the red sea. He looked down the alley. It angled down at thirty degrees, so he could see the purple figure walking slowly towards a gate to a park. Satwant sped up; conscience of the looks people gave him. The thief had slowed down. He was probably not aware of Satwant.             The purple person stopped at the edge of the park and swiftly swept into a small courtyard. There they passed the chain onto an old women dressed in rags. Before the transaction was completed Satwant had caught up. “ Stop, Thief!” Satwant place his feet shoulder width apart, back slightly hunched. He was both afraid and excited. “ Oooh hoo! You said you had lost them!” The lady said, slipping the chain into her dress and moving back. Satwant cry had attracted some attention from the nearest section of the park. “ I did. Go. Now.” The purple figure was of a young man with a cruel gaunt face. He waved at the lady to vanish as he fished out a knife from his sleeve. “ Boy, if I was you I would go away.” “ You stole from that lady! Give it back or I’ll call the lifeguards!” Satwant nervously looked towards the lady who was now making her way around Satwant, staying at the edge of the court, towards the park. He decided to move towards her, but before he got near the purple man jumped at him, jabbing with the blade. Satwant moved back. “ You smell like a cess pit boy!” the man laughed and slashed left then right. Satwant had no weapon, and the lady had moved into the crowd, some of who now stood and watched the fray. He put his right foot forward, bent his head down, and placed his right hands fingers on the ground, palm facing outwards. His elbow was slightly bent. As the purple thief threw the knife from his right hand to his left, Satwant pushed himself forward with his left foot, so he rolled onto his hand, forearm, elbow then shoulder, like a wheel spinning fast. The end result was he circled beneath the man and then straight into him. The man fell forward, as the velocity of the move brought Satwant back onto his feet. He turned around to see the purple adversary reach the fallen knife. As the hand grasped the bone handle, a foot crushed down onto it. The man screamed. Satwant smiled at the new arrival. Not everyone in the crowd had decided to just passively watch. The knife was wrenched out of the hand, before the foot was moved. The new arrival stepped back, slipping the weapon away and smiled at Satwant. From his right hand swung the gold chain. Satwant looked slightly quizzed. “ We all heard you cry thief. It’s okay she has been arrested. Who does this belong to? You my smelly friend?” “ No, a fine lady, from who this dog stole it” Satwant waved at the purple man who held his wounded hand. “ What about him?” “ What about him? Why don’t you finish him off? It will be a fair fight.” The stranger laughed. Only he was not a complete stranger. It was the very same young man who had helped him up when he first saw Nalwa. The hand holding the pearl necklace was encased in rubies, jade and amber. From beneath the sleeve protruded the same gold Kara and pearls. Before Satwant could reply, the purple man rushed forward and wrestled him to the ground. As a knee jerk reaction the farm boy threw his right shoulder up, twisting towards the right with his hip, and flung the other off. Before he could gather his strength the thief kicked him hard in the ribs. Slightly winded, Satwant rolled away and stood up, only to be rushed again by his foe, who sat on top of him and punched him in the face. Not knowing what to do, Satwant pushed his fingers in the man’s face, smothering his eyes, nose and mouth. The thief bit Satwant hard. “ Ouch!” Satwant’s other hand tightened into a fist and he punched the man hard in the jaw, and with both his feet pushed him on his chest and kicked him away, like an ass kicking, into the crowd. Before the man could attack him or run away, the watching crowd had secured the thief. Once again Satwant saw the same hand come down to help him up. It was like déjà vu again.             Satwant wiped himself down, but could not get rid of the smears or smell. The crowd now dissipated. The Sikh warrior who had aided him had the purple man by the arm. “ I’ll be back. Stay here. There are some lifeguards over there. Here, hold onto this. If you’re lucky you might get a reward. I recognised you when I saw you fall into the manure. Real funny. So I followed you.” He handed over the necklace, then tore a piece of the purple coat and gave it to Satwant so he could clean himself.             Satwant had wiped most of the muck off by the time the young man had come back from police. Satwant observed the man at the same time. As before, he wore a neat tight turban. It had an arrow like point above the bridge of his nose, where a pink plume flowed above the lemon turban. The tail of the turban flowed behind as before. He wore a skin tight Salwar Kameez, stretching across Adonis like sinewy muscle. On his shoulders hung a yellow silk cloak. He was adorned in princely jewellery, wearing the same gold earrings as before. Satwant remembered that the last time he had saw him was astride a grand white stallion. He had come here looking for the Khalsa, and the Khalsa had found him! The Taruna Dal warrior reproached him. “ What is your name my brave friend?” he asked. “ Satwant Singh. What is yours?” he flung the purple cloth on the floor. “ I am Arjun. You’re a long way from your village my friend? Don’ tell me you chased him from there?” Arjun laughed. “ No, from Anarkali market. I have travelled to Lahore to join the Khalsa. Now before you say anything I have already had your city boys make a fool of me, and to be honest I don’t like the lifeguards” Satwant said sternly. “ Achaa, yar. What did they say?” Arjun laughed again. “ Sent me into the city through Mori gate when I asked to se the Khalsa. Another Singh told me to look near the Diwan-E-Am.” Satwant hoped that this was true. “ Well that was an honest Sikh. But first I think we must take that back to it’s owner no? Are you alone here, or did you come with others?” “ No, I’m with a friend, Himmet Ali. He is looking after my camel right now.” Satwant looked Arjun straight in the eyes. “ Will you take me to the Khalsa?” “ Why not? Your brave. But you really need to improve your fighting techniques. The Taruna Dal army may have space for you.” He smiled. “ Judging by the distance you have come, you are definitely determined. The main Khalsa army is in Amritsar. Shere Singh’s men are here. I fight in Hari Singh Nalwa’s division.” “ That’s the one I want to join,” Satwant almost spat out excitedly. “ Then that’s the one you’ll join” Arjun put his arm around Satwant’s shoulders. *          *          *          *          *             The Muslim guard looked down with annoyance at Satwant. He had seen the boy run past him and swing onto the other street. By the time he had found the way into it, he had lost both the thief and the boy. He was glad that the Necklace had been saved, but not happy about by whom.             Satwant sensed that the guard was envious, which made it even more pleasurable. The woman had gone back into her palanquin where she had waited for news from her bodyguard. When he had come back he had reported what had happened, so she had decided to stay a short while, before leaving a message with the shopkeeper. When Satwant and Arjun had arrived in Anarkali, the women had gone. The shopkeeper had told them where to find her. Arjun seemed impressed. He did not clarify to Satwant, but instead took him and Himmet Ali to some public baths, where the two travellers washed up.             Satwant and Himmet were then given new clothes. The former a white silk puggree and white Salwar-Kameez, topped up with a sleeveless ruby overcoat. Himmet had received a brown overcoat. He then heard the muezzin call out for prayer and agreeing to meet back at Diwan-E-Am, went forth to the Golden Mosque. Arjun took Satwant in a carriage to the lady’s present residence. “ What do you mean by present residence?” Satwant was confused. “ She is a courtesan, yar. A very beautiful and well-known one. We have been told to meet her at Chand Roshan’s house. But we must be discreet. He is a well known business man.” Arjun had said. “ A courtesan?” whispered the bewildered Satwant. He could see that he had begun mixing in with the very type of company his father disapproved of already. He could not believe how blasé Arjun was about it all. “ Yes, that right. Don’t tell me you ran after the thief on her account like that? Bewitched by her beauty? Wanting to sow your oats?” Arjun threw back his head and laughed. “ I am married” Satwant feebly replied back. “ And I am a good Sikh. Arjun laughed all the way to Chand Roshan’s house.             So now they stood inside Chand Roshan’s courtyard, beneath the mango tree. The guard, Ajaz, took the necklace from them and vanished inside. Arjun elbowed Satwant as he saw the lady’s figure on the balcony, trying to hide behind the mango trees branches, Dupatta stretched out in her hand so her face was hidden. After a short period of time she vanished. When she reappeared on the balcony, Ajaz had returned outside. He thanked Satwant and gave him twenty rupees for his trouble. He then escorted them out of the back door. Satwant looked up one last time. The dupatta had fallen, revealing her countenance. In that moment Satwant caught her large green eyes, slim equine nose, high cheekbones, and caramel milk skin.             Satwant had fallen in love. “ What is her name?” He asked Arjun, once they were back inside the carriage. “ Her name is Henna, yar.” Arjun smiled, “ I thought you were married my man?” “ I am.” Satwant felt ashamed as her remembered Ranbir. What must it be like for her? Himmet could not stay here long. He had to go back. Ranbir was his wife. He should not be thinking about some kotteewali. “ She is not a kotteewali. Far too high for that.” Arjun stated. Satwant went red. He must have said his thoughts out loud. He looked away from Arjun. Doesn’t this man ever stop smiling? He then decided to change his thought pattern. “ When can I see the Khalsa’s Taruna Dal?” “Now”.