Idhar Udhar Ki Baat

  “ साहब ने ठेकेदार से पंद्रह करोड़ रुपये लिए हैं ,” ड्राइवर ने लापरवाही से कहा। गाड़ी बारामूला से उरी की ढलान पर चल पड़ी थी। रास्ते में आर्मी का चेक पोस्ट आया। 1991 में कश्मीर में यह आम बात थी। ड्राइवर उतरा और जवान को बताया कि यह प्रोजेक्ट की गाड़ी है। एक सिपाही राइफल टाँगे खिड़की के पास आया। अंदर देखा। सवार आदमी ने आईडी कार्ड निकालने की कोशिश की , पर सिपाही ने कोई दिलचस्पी नहीं दिखाई। बस हल्की - सी नज़र और सिर हिला कर आगे बढ़ गया। ड्राइवर रजिस्टर में गाड़ी का नंबर लिख रहा था। अंदर बैठा फौजी सोच में डूबा था। यह ड्राइवर क्यों उल्टी सीधी बातें करता है ? अभी बताया कि उसके पिता ने इतना सारा पैसा लिया है। कुछ महीने पहले भी उसने बारामूला बाज़ार में एक अजनबी से मिलवाया था और बोल दिया “ साहब का लड़का। ” और वह अजनबी निकला आतंकवादी , जिसने अपने फेरन के नीचे AK 47 छुपाई हुई थी। शुक्र है उसने यह नहीं कहा कि लड़का फौजी अफसर है। क्या यह कोई साज़िश ...

“Saab has taken 15   Crore rupees from the vendor,” the driver said casually, as the car began its descent from Baramulla towards Uri. They stopped at a routine Army checkpoint — common in the Kashmir of 1991. The driver stepped out to inform the jawan that it was a project vehicle. A soldier, slinging his rifle, came up to the window and glanced inside. The occupant instinctively reached for his Army ID, then paused. The soldier didn't look particularly interested. No curiosity. Just a cursory glance and a nod. While the driver jotted down vehicle details in the register, the occupant sat still, mind churning. Why had the driver told him about his father taking a large, unauthorized sum from a vendor? It wasn’t the first time the man had crossed the line with his words. Just few months ago in the Baramulla bazaar, he’d introduced him — to a stranger — as “Saab ka ladka.” Worse, the stranger turned out to be a   terrorist with an AK 47 rifle hiding under his phiren. Than...

  Paise Vaarna (rotating money over heads and giving to poor) — ever seen it? It’s that old ritual where someone takes a currency note, waves it dramatically over the head of a newborn or a newlywed couple, and then hands it over to servants or the needy. Pure intent: blessings. Simple and Sacred. But then comes Punjabi show-shaa (Punjabi flamboyance). What do we do? Not just rotate. We shower notes, rain money, make a scene. All just to say “asi bade great hunne haan” (we are very rich, very grand, very great). Now, me? Never done it. Even if people snickered behind my back and muttered kanjoos (miser). Why? Because the idea of currency lying crushed under people’s shoes feels like an insult. An insult to money. An insult to the country whose face that money bears. A month ago I was a worried man. A wedding of a close kin. People will expect you to be flamboyant. How to handle this note-showering business? I couldn’t be flinging Canadian dollars—too expensive. Especially wh...