BANDH
“Ek bhi dukaan nahin khulni chahiye (not a single shop should open)”. Shah Saheb blurted while munching the crunchy cookies from the best bakery in Srinagar. His cute grandson was playing with an imported battery operated toy on the plush Persian carpet near him….toy sent by his elder son settled in USA.
“People have to learn how to survive…. do not worry they will…. the bandh ‘calendar’ has to be followed”. He was now strolling in his spacious sitting room with exclusive furniture; French crystal showpieces and impressive khatamband ceiling.
“…And make sure that those smart alecs do not sell their goods with shutter half open”. He was now standing on the marble covered balcony overlooking a sprawling lawn with neatly manicured grass and tastefully pruned ornamental plants.
“…And yes…. no hawkers….it will defeat the purpose….” He instructed as he sat on the majestic walnut dining chair, opposite the lavish spread of culinary delight prepared by the town’s handpicked chefs.
At some distance from this uptown palatial abode of Shah Saheb, Altaf peddled his rickety bicycle hurriedly towards his small bakery, through the deserted alleys….thinking about his ailing Ammi. The doctor had advised her readmission in the hospital….but she was faking a brave front. His heart skipped a beat as he turned into the market…. All shutters were down and no soul ventured in the area..…how will he sell his stuff he thought.
Still hopeful of his regular customers coming to buy their daily needs, he kept the shutter of his bakery half open. Opposite his shop, his friend Ahmed had also opened his chemist shop with half shutter up. Slowly, as a chain reaction, a number of shopkeepers of this small market started to open their shops with half shutter open. Gradually, people started to crawl out of their houses like scared ants, towards the market to buy essentials. Altaf’s hopes rose as two young boys, his regular customers came near the shop.
Suddenly, four motorcycles emerged from nowhere, buzzing like angry hornets with determined youth riding them shouting “band karo dukan” (close the shops).
Altaf’s customers fled with his hopes in panic and so did all other potential customers. In a few minutes, the street bore the same deserted look as it did in the morning.
Altaf peddled his bicycle back towards his house, past Shah Saheb’s palace.
“Another day gone without earning…. time to sell the two remaining samavars of Ammi…..” he was thinking sitting under the leaking roof of his small house.
Shah Saheb was ecstatic on the success of the sixth day of the bandh… another day in paradise for him and his likes… and for those like Altaf, another one in hell.
Rote-bilakhte-sisakte,zindagi teri toh chal hi jayegi, Tera chulha jale – na jale, meri daal toh gal hi jayegi
