Faith & Frenzy

L Chowdhury K

Description

Faith & Frenzy is a collection of short stories that brings to the reader the intimate details of forgotten Kashmiris of all hues, caught in the quagmire of terror and murky politics. Their stories have remained untold, submerged as they remain under layers of shady rhetoric and politics of deceit. Most, but not all, stories take place in a background of escalating militancy that brought terror, insecurity and mayhem into the lives of people and dealt a deathblow to the tradition of amity, tolerance and peaceful living that had defined Kashmiri life over significant periods of history.A unique feature of many of these stories is that they are discovered and revealed through the lens of a doctor who is also a keen observer of a society in flux. The author himself is the narrator of the stories. More importantly, he is also involved as one of the key participants in most of them. His initial contact with the main characters often begins in his role as a physician. He receives them as patients and, while providing his professional services, he finds himself entwined into the intricacies, uncertainties and struggles of their lives. The stories peep deep into their lives, and probe inside their souls. Above all, these are stories of the universal human circumstance.

Sujets

• Short story

Informations

• Publié par: Vitasta Publishing Pvt. Ltd.
• Date de parution: 11 juin 2013
• Nombre de lectures: 0
• EAN13: 9781611879728
• Langue: English

Extrait

Table of Contents
Copyright
Faith & Frenzy: Short Stories from Kashmir
Also by K L Chowdhury
Dedication
Acknowledgements
The Poplar of Discord
The Guru's Last Wish
Price of a Lamb
Faith and Frenzy
Premonition
Saligram's Secret
A Place to Die
Abdul Hameed's Unease
Gulla of Prang
What Does a Pandit Look Like
The Fish of Mattan
Truce
Insomnia
The Swami's Dream
The Social Activist
Return of the Natives
All about Chichi
Glossary
Faith & Frenzy: Short Stories from Kashmir
By K L Chowdhury

Copyright 2013 by K L Chowdhury
Cover Copyright by Vitasta Publishing Pvt. Ltd.
The author is hereby established as the sole holder of the copyright.

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This is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to the living or dead is entirely coincidental.
Faith & Frenzy
Short Stories from Kashmir
K L Chowdhury
Also by K L Chowdhury
Of Gods, Men and Militants
A Thousand-Petalled Garland and Other Poems
Enchanting World of Infants
Homeland after Eighteen Years: A 48-Hour Travelogue in Kashmir
These stories are mostly about the ordinary people of Kashmir-their relationships and bonds, their toils and tussles, their follies and foibles, their hopes and fears. To them I dedicate this work.
Acknowledgements
I am grateful to my wife, Leela, and my siblings, Surinder and Robin, for their encouragement and advice
1
The Poplar of Discord
The poplar is ubiquitous in Kashmir. It grows with utmost ease almost anywhere in the valley-flat lands, plateaus and foothills. It lines boulevards, roads and avenues, and keeps company with the willow along riverbanks and around water bodies. It borders fields, backyards and gardens and, unlike the expansive walnut, it takes little space, just enough to stand upon, from where it grows straight up, tall and proud, almost speaking to the stars.
I had never heard of a dispute over a poplar till it happened right across in our neighbor’s household. Unlike a walnut tree, the poplar is not something to which you grow terribly attached. A walnut tree has a big footprint and takes central place in any yard, grows slowly over decades after a lot of nurturing, and yields a coveted crop each year. It becomes a part of the family, another fond member. There is no such sentiment attached to the poplar which grows at the periphery, almost on its own, with little attention and effort. When properties are divided among heirs walnut trees are known to get in the way of division of land on which they stand. My father, an advocate, often regaled us with stories of litigation-even blood feuds-over walnut trees, and how his clients strained every nerve and spent every farthing to establish their claim on a coveted walnut tree. The dispute over a poplar was the first of its kind in his experience.
Devinder Nath Dhar, a retired widower, had moved from Srinagar downtown into our neighborhood a few years before we did. Our northeastern side was demarcated from his lot partly by an outhouse that he owned and partly by a common wall. His main house stood in the middle of the yard. He had three sons, all married with children. The older son, Pran Nath, lived with him. The second, Girdhari Lal, had settled in Bombay, and the youngest, Maharaj Krishan, had moved overseas and made England his home.
This was an inconspicuous household. Pran Nath Dhar had a wife who kept mostly to herself, and two children-a chubby boy and a pretty girl-who rarely mixed with the neighborhood kids. Our house overlooked their garden and we hardly ever saw the family lounging out or socializing. At best, the couple sat together in the evenings at the bay window that faced our house directly, rarely looking across. Their children seldom played in the garden and the only time I saw them was when they came out of the house to go to school or go shopping.
Devinder Nath, the patriarch, was a little more sociable. He would visit us sometimes, wish us from across the window when we crossed each other’s visual fields, and exchange pleasantries if we met on the street. He was worldly wise and carried out the duties expected of a middle class householder, educated his sons who had now settled down in sound careers, married them into respectable families, bought the uptown property at the right time, renovated it and rented out the outhouse. He also planted poplars all along the periphery of his house. But he never made a will. When he died, the non-resident sons, Girdhari Lal and Maharaj Krishan, flew to Srinagar to attend the funeral. It was the first time we saw the three siblings together. They presented a picture of bonhomie and respectful indulgence, and gave their father a decent funeral, observing all the religious rites in the best tradition. At the end of the customary two-week mourning period, the visitors returned home while Pran Nath and his family resumed their lives in the house and withdrew into their customary solitude, seemingly content with their lot.
Surprisingly, Girdhari Lal’s visits to Srinagar became more frequent after his father’s demise. We knew about his arrival from the voices that emanated from the otherwise melancholy house, arguments that sometimes broke into sudden squeals. We had no intention to meddle in their affairs until the day he came to seek my father’s advice as a neighbor and a lawyer. It was the usual story of a property dispute threatening to degenerate into a feud between the brothers.
Girdhari Lal put forth his case: “Sir, you quite well know, this property was purchased by our revered father and stands in his name. I have been in Bombay for years now and have hardly ever lived in this house. It is Pran Nath who has been enjoying the use of this house all along. He lives in the big house and pockets the rent that accrues from the outhouse. While father was alive, I did not concern myself with the arrangements that might have existed between him and my brother. Now that he is no more, I have come here to press the claim for my share of the property. But he evades any serious discussion on the subject. He maintains that I am free to return and settle in the house, and that he owes me nothing of the rent since he looks after the property.”
“Did you ask for a division of the property?” father asked.
“Yes, that is what I desire, a proper division or a sale. But he has been prevaricating; says it is too soon after the demise of father to discuss these things, and that he is not ready to sell the property, certainly not until both his children come of age.”
“What did you say to that?”
“It may amount to waiting a decade or more, depending upon what he means by that statement.” Girdhari Lal sighed in frustration and bared his suspicious mind, “I do not trust him. I feel he wants to cheat me of my share. Since I live far away, he might even dispose off the property without my knowledge.”
“If he is not inclined to sell the property, he should have no objection to a division. Since he asks you to come and live here, let him give you your share. Then you will be at liberty to do with it what you like-live there or sell it off. What about your brother Maharaj Krishan? Have you sounded him out on this? Just because he has migrated to a foreign land does not strip him off his property rights,” father reminded him.
“I am sorry, I have not. He has not written or phoned after his return to London. I will write to him right away,” he replied apologetically.
“You should have discussed this with him while he was here during the funeral. You can not effect a division or sale of the property without his knowledge and consent.”
“I agree. In fact, I am not worried about Maharaj Krishan; I am sure he will have no objection. It is Pran Nath who has to give up his intransigence.”
Father probed him further. “Did you tell Pran Nath that you were coming to see me?”
“Yes sir, I suggested that we seek your counsel, but he does not approve of taking, what he thinks is a family problem, outside the family. Therefore I came here on my own after having failed to convince him. I do not believe we can sort this out without help, and I cannot think of a better person than you,” he said with conviction.
“You do not live here, your brother does. He is my neighbor and it behooves me not to take sides or offer advice unless all of you want my arbitration,” father closed the argument.
On the face of it, this was a typical property dispute. But like the common cold that affects its victims differently, this property dispute had its own distinctiveness. Pran Nath was not interested in changing the status quo, and certainly not in selling off the property, so it seemed. Girdhari Lal was desperate to acquire his share. Mahraj Krsihan had not been sounded out about the proposal to divide or dispose of the property. Assuming that they agreed in principle to a division rather than a sale, it would not be easy to divide the property into three equal shares the way it was laid out. The main house stood in the middle of the land and was designed for a single family. It would have to be shared by two brothers while the third would take the outhouse. Even then, it would not be easy to settle which one of the brothers was to get which share. In any case, father did not want to intervene unless all the brothers agreed to make him the arbiter.
Girdhari Lal returned to Bombay a few days later. Before he left, he informed father that Pr