Beyond barriers of religion, region

ONE pleasant afternoon in May 2010, I reached Srinagar for an operational task. My team members also arrived there. After a briefing, we were made to depart the Main Guard Room (MGR) next morning in civilian clothes in a taxi to our operational area.

We had hardly left the MGR when Arshad, the young taxi driver, said, “Sir, I need to first go to my village on the outskirts to pick up my stuff and hand over medicines to my parents. If you don’t mind, it won’t take much time.” All of us looked at each other in disbelief, with fear of the unknown lurking inside. But trusting our gut feeling and taking a chance, we agreed.

On reaching his residence, he parked the vehicle in a street corner. We politely declined his invitation to come inside and preferred to wait in the taxi. Soon, an elderly bearded man in an oversized coat and a Kashmiri cap came out and said respectfully, “Janaab, andar aayein, kuch kahva vagairah le lein (Sir, please come inside and have refreshments).” We exchanged greetings but chose to stay put in the car. In no time, Arshad was back with his stuff, belying our unfounded fear.

We were soon meandering through the lanes en route to the highway. Sitting next to him, I talked to Arshad about the situation in Jammu and Kashmir, keeping aside my own perception and bias built over the years as an outsider. He slowly opened up, ruing the predicament faced by commoners like him. He said they had been pushed into a corner as militants, security forces and politicians were all bound by their own compulsive agendas but perhaps had no space for local sentiments and aspirations.

Soon, we reached the halfway point to our destination. Arshad stopped in front of a roadside dhaba, where we had lunch. His presence, mannerism and simplicity were reassuring. Recommencing our journey, we travelled for around two hours before he applied the brakes near a temple. Arshad told us that this was the place where the hit song ‘Jai Jai Shiv Shankar kaanta laage na kankar…’ (from Rajesh Khanna-Mumtaz starrer Aap Ki Kasam) was filmed.

Finally, we reached our destination and completed the assigned task before returning to our base. I eventually forgot about the taxi driver. As luck would have it, I spotted Arshad one afternoon at my native place in Himachal Pradesh in December 2022. He had joined his maternal uncle’s woollen business in Punjab and was visiting our village every year to buy winter wear at concessional rates. We fondly recalled our taxi ride. Since then, he has been a regular visitor to my place in the winter. I don’t mind paying him without bargaining.

Seeing him and other people of J&K, divided by religion and politics, going from one place to another to make a living, I remember another famous song, “Zindagi ka safar, hai yeh kaisa safar, koi samjha nahin, koi jaana nahin...”