My father is a religious person. He believes that mukti yatra cuts down the impurities and cleanses the soul.  He always wanted to do this yatra through which he gets to visit lots of mosques and dargahs. His 60^th birthday was approaching. December is a cold month. So, I decided to take him on this yatra myself. It was supposed to be memorable, and ultimately it was.

I planned a 12-day trip over 3 states of the North, covering 16 of the important religious sites. Abbu’s birthday was right in the middle of the trip- on the 6^th day. We left home with a bag full of anticipation and good hope. The first 5 days went exactly as I planned, but not Abbu’s birthday.

On his birthday, we were to explore the city which had a great importance in the Hindu mythology. We thought of taking the essence of a sister religion and some extra blessings from the Hindu Gods too. There was a 16^th-century mosque that Abbu wished to visit. We reached the place early in the morning. Abbu said he would sleep sometime before going to the mosque in the afternoon. I tried sleeping too but a weird feeling kept me up. I went down for some tea. There was a small stall which served tea, coffee and snacks. There were three people other having tea there. I asked for a cup and sat on the bench.

“Munna ka tabiyat bigad gaya, nahi to hum jarur jaate.” said the slim guy wearing a kurta.

“Abhi bhi time hai, aap ja sakte hain. Program 3-4 baje se pehle khatam nahi hoga.” Said the chai-wala.

“12 baj gaye hain, ab jaane ka mann nahi.” The slim guy replied.

I was keenly listening to what they were saying. I started getting interested upon hearing the word ‘program’.

“Muaf kijiyega, kis program ki baat ho rahi hai?” I asked.

“Aap kahan gum hain, bhai- sahab? Itni badi rally nikli hai aur aapko nahi maalum? Kal ki ghoshna nahi suni aapne?” the other guy in a kurta asked back.

 “Ji, mai aaj hi aya hun. Yatra par hu Abbu ke sath. Masjid jaane ka iraada hai kuch der me.” I clarified.

There was a sudden silence amongst us. The two guys in kurta looked at each other and then looked away. They had finished their tea.

“Chal chotu, hum chalte hain.” the other one said and they both walked away whispering.

“Aaj masjid jana aapke liye theek nahi.” said the chai-wala.

“Kyu, bhai?” I was getting anxious.

“Yeh masjid vivaad me phasa hua hai.”

“Itna to hume pata hai, bhai. Par log to aaj bhi jaate hain na wahan?” I wanted answers.

“Haan, Magar aaj ki rally wahin ho rahi hai, aur aadhikarik raay iss masjid ke khilaaf jate hain. Aakhir hai to yeh sheher ek Hindu dharm sthal.” The chai-wala’s words were making no sense to me.

“Kya isse ye maalum hota hai ye yahan masjid ka hona galat hai?” i asked.

“Hamare kehne ya sochne se kya hota hai? Hai to raaj satta ka.”

“Satta? Kya yahan ki satta sabke liye baraabar nahi?” I was confused.

He jolted his head and looked away. His silence was making me uncomfortable. I wanted to see the rally. I wanted to see the mosque.

“Masjid ka raasta kis taraf hai?”

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Crowd, a disturbed crowd was all I could see in front of my eyes. I kept on walking. I could hear them chanting. Those chants were piercing through my body like little needles. I could sense instability. I could sense insanity. I went closer. I could now hear the bhaashan that the politician was giving.

“Iss bhoomi ko hame samtal banana hoga, baithne layak banana hoga. Taki yahan samoohik kirtan ho sake, bhajan ho sake. Yagya ka aayojan hoga....”

‘What is this man trying to say?’ I thought in my head. The mob kept cheering and chanting.

“Jai Shri Ram! Jai Shri Ram!”

When I went further and got the first sight of the mosque from a distance, I stood there perplexed. It was right in front of my eyes- the wrecking. The domes were being hit, the walls were attacked. It was hard for me to digest what I saw. The main dome fell... then another... Just then I saw something flying towards me and hit me.... I realized I was sitting on the ground, full of dust, when I came back to senses. The mosque was not standing anymore. My neck hurt, but it did not matter to me.  

People had started returning to their homes. I returned too. On the way back to the hotel, I could not stop thinking about what had happened. They said it was essential, as it was an important Hindu site. The political leaders were smiling. The people were dancing in victory, chanting slogans and celebrating their win. Did they actually win? Who won? How can anyone justify the existence of a Hindu site? How does demolition of a religious building define their sanity? The security forces ran away. Further, there was no effort put to stop them. Why? My head was full of questions.

Abbu was awake and really worried when he did not find me in the room. He had already gathered the information about the demolition but my absence was a bigger concern for him then. When I reached, Abbu was watching the news on the TV with widened eyes. He ran to me and held me by my shoulders.

“Khairiyat hai?” he was shaking.

“Han Abbu, mai khairiyat hu, magar ye desh bahut beemar hai.” I replied.

He had tears in his eyes. I was broken. There was nothing that we could do.

“Chal, laut chalen.”  he said, still shaking.

.......................................................

It is February. About two months passed... and riots, commotion and deaths are all that we saw. Every other day we woke up with the death toll rising, new cities being engrossed and more hatred in the air. The fire had struck. Temples, mosques and other random buildings were targeted. We too were invited for a meeting to remove people of the other religion out of our locality. Ordinary people had turned into activists. People were dying. But, what could we do?  

Whenever there is a state of disagreement, why is agitation and anger the first and the last option? Why do people think that destroying a monument of killing the people would solve or pacify an issue? Why does a positive ground, the religion, become the reason for the unending negativity? Why ‘co-existence’ is no more a word with a meaning? But, what could we do?  

I suddenly felt like a culprit. I never thought anything beyond my family’s happiness. Who thinks about the country’s happiness? Who thinks about its integrity? Lots of our countrymen died, about 2000 of them. Are our countrymen, our extended family? If no, then why do we share the same land? If yes, then why are we still silent? 

I decided, I would not sit silent anymore. I will do my part. I will propagate my questions, and I will derive the solutions. I will. 

I tightened the grip over my pheran when a cold gush of wind swayed through me. It was just like another cold winter morning. I was sitting on the curved edge of the lake, thinking about my father. And, I was trying not to.

I slid my leg down towards the water inch by inch. The water surface felt like glass, tight and shiny. Just when I put my whole foot on the icy floor, it cracked open and I lost balance. I frantically grabbed the branch of the tree hanging just beside me. My feet were in water and I couldn't move for a generous amount of time. I was not thinking straight. The sudden thought of drowning in this disturbingly cold water made me jump out of the lake at once.

I was back, sitting. This time, I couldn't feel my feet inside the shoes. I managed to stand after a very long time. Later, I started marching back home with my heavy bag.

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"Did you get the fish?" mother asked.

"No." I replied, pretending to look uninterested.

"What!! I told you!! We are expecting guests if you remember!!" she started shouting.

"Maaaa, calm down. The fish is in the bag." I smiled, warming my legs with the woollen scarf.

"Ohhh, Hahaha! My sweet Lado!" She vanished into the kitchen with the bag in no time.

My cousins were visiting us from Srinagar for the first time. Mother wanted to give them the best hospitality.

"What can I help you with?" I stood up wearing two socks together and went towards the kitchen.

"Chop these." She slid a plate full of veggies towards me. "Have you set the music player up?"

"Ma! What will we do of the music player? Play musical chair?" I was getting irritated.

"Zoon! You are 23 and you still argue like a kid. Be nice to them. Anjana likes you very much. She always asks me to tell you to talk to her.... and Aditya, he is a sweet boy too. Always listens to his elders....” and she was doing it again. Her anxiety was making her chatter. This happened every time when she had a lot of work to do.

We cooked and did the dishes. The temperature started lowering around 2.30 pm. Mother was getting worried because they were to reach before it was 2 pm.

"Maybe we should...." the door knock interrupted her."Finally they are here!"

She ran to open the door.

"Come come!! Soon! It is very cold outside! Get yourself covered. How are you both? How come you are late? Was the road not good? Did th...."

"Ma! Let them answer one-by-one!" I broke her speech.

Anjana and Aditya were covered with woollens. They seemed lost upon the bombardment of my mother's questionnaire.

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It was already late. We did not take time to gulp down the yummy dinner. Soon we were gathered to drink the mandatory kaada, covered in quilts. Ma was somewhere in the bedroom.

“Thank you, aunty! It is warming up the whole body!” said Aditya, loud enough to let Ma hear.

“Yes, it is. And we know aunty is a great cook. The fish was delicious.” Anjana said with the widest smile.

‘They are sweet’ I thought in my mind. “She likes to cook, and this fish is one of the special items.” I was trying to look sweet too.

“It is called the Hokh Gard, isn’t it?” a curious Anjana asked.

“Yes, Anju.” I said. Ma came with scarves for all of us.

“Wasn’t this fish curry Ratan uncle’s favourite too?” Anjana asked.

Aditya glanced up immediately. Ma was staring at Anju, but soon she turned away. And I pretended not to hear her.

“I will go and make the bed for all of us.” I said and walked away.

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Ratan Neka is my father. He was in the transport business, so he had to travel a lot. It was last year’s winter evening, Ma’s friend from the town came to inform her that my father had been attending and visiting another woman. The cold weather and stirring news was sucking all the senses out of her, but she opted to regain strength. She chose to ignore her, believing it was just a rumour.

The next morning, my father was home. Ma did not bother him with any query or even a single doubtful question. It was a cold evening and we finished dinner early. They both covered themselves for a long walk to the lake. It was a mandatory thing that Ma had enforced. I bid them goodbye and settled under the quilts with a nice book. They did this walk after every dinner, whenever we all were together. But this time, only Ma returned back home.

Some say my mother pushed my father into the freezing lake after knowing that he was an infidel. Some say she took her revenge. It was a chilly winter night of doom for us. Eventually, everyone disowned us. Just like Ma did the other day, I chose to ignore what everybody said or did. I never had the courage to ask her what happened that night. Since then, I have feared winters, the season that I once loved. Since then, the thought of drowning in the icy lake make me sick in my spine, as if I have felt it myself. Since then, whenever I pass the lake or sit around it, I try not to think about him, but I fail.

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“Let me light the Kangri again. Can you place the lamp near the outdoor tap?” I asked Ma while she was standing against the wall, lost in her thoughts.

“Ye-yeah.” she abruptly went towards the store room.

After lighting the pots, I went outdoor to check on Ma. I saw her struggling to light the lamp while she was wiping tears off her face. I stood there for a moment, feeling bad for her. There was nothing that I could do.

I ran and hugged her from the back. She couldn’t hold it back anymore.

“I did n-not do it. I did n-not kill your fa-father.” she said, breathing heavily.

I hugged her tighter.

“It was an ac-accident. Th-the soil was slippery...he sl-slipped... he went out of sight in no ti-time.... I stood there staring!! Coward I am....” she broke into huge cries.

“Let it go, Ma. Let it go.” 

I did not know how to handle such situations. I kept hugging her tightly. We both cried. This cry was held back since last winter. It was much needed- letting go.

Anjana and Aditya were listening. They came and hugged us from behind. Nobody was saying a word. We had a moment of unity. This moment of silence cleared everything.

Like every other year, I was short of ideas. I always wanted to make the most productive resolutions for the New Year. I am great at business ideas, I am good at inventing new recipes in the kitchen, but I don’t know what happens when it comes to resolutions.

I asked my friends about theirs. One of them said he would stop eating tobacco, one had promised to launch his start-up this year and the others do not believe in resolutions at all. I don’t eat tobacco or cigarette, I am the CEO of my company and I am a hardcore believer of resolutions. No hope here. I felt like drowning. A few days back, my wife said that we should make most of the first day of the year because the whole year follows it. I promised her that we would spend it the most memorable way, the most ‘perfect’ way.

I had to do something about the resolution thing!

‘Help me out. I am looking for resolution ideas!’ I updated my social media status.

My aunt asked me to shift to my hometown, my friends had other rubbish ideas, but I wished to murder the ones who told me to become ‘nicer’ or ‘kinder’ or to ‘love more’. Come on! I am nice enough and I am kind enough to the world. Is that even a valid resolution?

I realized there was no luck in asking anyone anything. Maybe I had to spend this year too without an aim. Little did I know that this first day of the year had different plans for me.

 I woke up to my ringing phone. It was 8 in the morning.

“Good morning, beta.” It was my mother.

“Mummy! Why did you wake me up early in the morning? Don’t you know it’s my holiday today? I would have slept till late. You just ruined my day!!” I was yelling, almost.

“Are beta, I am so sorry. I just wanted to wish you a happy new year.”

“Whatever. I will call you after breakfast.” I hung up not caring about her reply.

It soiled my mood. Neera was probably in the kitchen. She came running to the bedroom upon hearing me shout.

“What happened, Durjan? Who was it?” she asked.

“Mummy.” I was upset.

“It’s okay. Sleep some more.”

“No, I am done.” I stood up and went into the bathroom.

A little later, Neera and I were on the breakfast table.

“It was a moment of the past. I think you should bring her back home.” she said in a serious tone.

“What do you mean? I am doing it wrong? She is safe in an old age home, not in a jail!” I was yelling again.

“She does not deserve a jail. You know what happened that night.”

“Yes, I know. She was to take care of Appu. She had one job!!” the innocent face of Appu, my little daughter, came in front of my eyes. She got lost. Nobody knows where.

“But it was not mummy’s fault. She is an old lady, she had a habit of sleeping at 9. We were late. It was 12 when we returned.” Neera justified. We had never discussed this matter before.

 “So, what? Bringing her back home will bring our Appu back?”

“Is keeping her away making it any better?” she was firm, a picture of her that I don’t usually see.

“Yes it is. I cannot stand her. Not after all this.”

“Wasn’t she there from the day when you first stood on your feet till the day you actually stood on your feet? I know it was not easy for us. It was not easy for her too. Now, she is alone there.”

“There are other old people around. And, why are you supporting her? Have she started calling you, moulding you?” I was not sounding sensible and I knew.

“Not moulded, but she had shaped me. She taught me your favourite dishes. She taught me to take care of a baby. She wanted to make Appu stronger than you.”

“Rubbish. I don’t want to talk about it. Finish off your works soon, we will leave for lunch at 1.” I walked away. I knew what I was doing. I kept myself busy in office homework.

It was time. We drove to the Rajasthani restaurant for lunch. It is my favourite spot to go on holidays. I was thinking about the lovely food we were going to have. My mood had started getting better. I tried to forget the morning brawl and kept up the smile.

We entered the restaurant. Most of the tables were occupied because it was the new year day. I ran my eyes through the hall to find a good seat when I saw an old woman sitting alone on the corner most table. She looked pretty much like my mother, but a lot older. That’s when I remembered that I told mummy that I would call her after breakfast. I quickly killed the thought as I found an empty table near the centre.

But... “This way, Sir.” The manager guided us to that very corner table.

When we got closer, I realised that the old lady was no one else but mummy. She had aged so much in a short time- I thought in my head. Her face was full of wrinkles, a lot more than I last met her. The smile added to the curves of her skin. Yes, she was smiling but I was not. I glared at Neera.

“You did this?” I asked standing near the table. She was silent.

“Sit beta, you both look really good.” Mummy said. I gave way for Neera to sit in front of mummy, then I sat beside Neera. I was not looking at mummy. But my eyes were craving to look at her, her grown wrinkles and her white hair.

 “How are you, mummyji?” Neera asked.

“I am good, beta. We don’t have things to do there. So, I made this halwa for you both today.” She passed a box towards me. I took it and kept it on the table.

“I am yet to make a halwa as good as yours, mummyji.” Neera was trying to impress her or something. It was out of my understanding.

“But, your kheer is my favourite. Uh... was my favourite. S-sorry.” Mummy lowered her head when I glanced at her. “Durju, I feel so happy to see you both after so long. Have you started colouring your hair?”

“Yes. Now, please order the food Neera, I am hungry.” It was getting more awkward for me.

 We finished eating. I was silent the whole time. Only Neera and mummy exchanged a few thoughts. Instances of the past came running in front of me. Things that she said often, how she saved me from the tuitions, how I slept in her arms every night – came in my mind in flashes. I pacified with time. I would not say that I became comfortable, but her presence was okay for me now.

The waiter kept the bill on the table and left.

“Durju, isn’t this the shirt that your ex-boss gifted you? But you know what will look even better with this grey shirt? This blue cardigan that I knit for you.” She had bought another gift for me. Why?

I was staring at her.

“I worked extra long yesterday to complete it. I had to. I started learning to knit in March. It was my resolution for this year. And you know that breaking resolutions is not my thing.”

I was still staring at her. How could she? After all the negativity, after all the anger that I showed her, how could she work the year long for me? Every moment of Appu’s absence made me hate her more and more. My belief in destiny made me soothe my sorrow soon but the ego made me keep the grudge on my mother. I knew all this time, that it was not solely her fault. But I hated her.  

But she, she made me her resolution. Not thinking about how wrong it was on my part to give up on her and leave her on her own. Papa left her suddenly too, without an explanation. She did not complain. I left her too, she did not complain. I suddenly felt very guilty. My eyes were wet. I could see her eyes twinkling a little more too. I was her resolution. And maybe it was my time to return the gesture.

“You are coming home with us today.” I said. Neera grabbed my hand and we smiled.

This year, I unknowingly created two resolutions for myself. One- I would never let my past control my present. Two- My mother is my root, my nourishment. I will never leave her side, I will be her nourishment from now on.

Maybe it was destiny, maybe it was karma. But, the first day of this year went just how my wife and I wanted it to be- PERFECT.