Re Nesting
In middle of all this catastrophe, I was inertly excited to go to Chandigarh. As for most Kashmiris in those days and youth, travelling out of the valley to big cities was like getting a ticket to Las Vegas. Most people in Kashmir in that era wouldn’t travel so much beyond Jammu, except for few elites and business class people. I had no idea about the challenges of living in a big city without owning a house and with a modest amount of salary not enough to sustain you, as the big chunk of it would go in paying a hefty rent
Chandigarh in those days was a quiet city, thoughtfully designed with a great farsightedness. The only jostle then visible was around the area extending between sector- 12 to sector-21. I was suggested to take accommodation in or around Sector 15, as it was near to my working area. Secondly, Sector-15 was also supposed to be relatively cheaper in matters of rent as it was flooded with students coming from outside Chandigarh for studies at Punjab University situated in Sector- 14 just opposite to it and also suitable for those who were employed in PGIMER hailing from other places to work in the sector -12 nearby . So the owners would accordingly re orientate their houses to suit tenant needs and facilitate it for rent outs. My senior colleague, who hailed from Haryana, also had taken a rented room in the same sector. A very interesting guy , who not only helped me but also introduced me to a new kind of Life , different than what I had been living ,thereby evoking entirely new perspectives . We will get more opportunity to discuss about him later.
I was drawing a meagre salary of just about two thousand bucks which also included other perks. The trending rent then for one single set of room was in the range of 700 INR to 1000 INR. I had no conveyance of mine. So it became more important for me to settle at a place which was cost effective, near to the prime places like bus stand and PGI where I was supposed to go for my routine work. After searching extensively for few days with the help of few friends, I finally managed to get one room set for 600 bucks with a very small attached storeroom converted to a kitchen. I was helped by few local KPs who had already settled and most of them were those who had recently, like us, migrated from the valley. I booked the accommodation and went back to Jammu to bring my Mom and Sis. It was an exciting kind of a makeshift arrangement, as it evoked a ray of hope to a new beginning, a fresh start bringing some fervor into life preceded by a chaotic period which had washed away everything. But more importantly, we had survived, and it seemed that we were given a fresh lease of life and a hope that was destined for us to re- nest and re-built.
Back in Jammu, the sufferings continued to persist and taking different turns for KPs. Migrants were pouring in. Few managed to settle, but majority still hapless and vagrant. Mom was feeling choked living at my sister’s hired accommodation. It is never easy for any Indian parent to carry on living together under one roof with in-laws for more than few days, no matter how worse the situations may compel you to do so. She was craving for a breathing space.
It came as an ephemeral bliss to her on hearing that we were moving out. We eventually shifted to Chandigarh with virtually nothing to start with except for carrying a gas stove and a few utensils. We bought two simple folding beds and few bedding sheets on arrival and handful of ration to start off.
It was less than a month, we started to feel the pinch of being tenants and realized that it was not going to work anymore. The peak summers had already set in. It was too difficult to carry on with a kind of set up and with our limited means and earnings. Mom’s family pension was in halt due to migration process. It was also proving atrocious for her to cook every day in that nostril size storeroom. Half of my salary would go away in paying rent and other incidental expenses we had never thought of which also included spending on personal expenditure on travel in hot weather as part of my job. We had limited choice and arid hope to upgrade our living. We were witnessing some harsh realities of life, a kind of one we were not accustomed to. We compared our Landlords in Chandigarh and the tenancy norms to that of times when we ourselves were Landlords back in the valley. It remined me of our behaviors towards our tenants at home and the relationship metrics. That the relations grew up so genial that we virtually at one point of time had stopped taking rent from them, but not to undermine their share of reciprocation in their own way. Vagaries of life, they call it , are such that they teach you newer lessons at every step. The scenario being similar to one often seen in some Hindi movie storyline, where a villager, to earn his bread, arrives in a big city and faces all kinds of harsh realities of an urban life initially but later getting seasoned with passing years. Nothing inhuman actually, because all of us behave somewhat alike in any given circumstances and we all have a past and roots which get drenched in mud while we manage to slog for survival and then turning into hard stains during the course of our Life’s journey. But the underlying fact also remains that even if one has adopted to the norms of an upgraded urban lifestyle, there is a past, a hidden heart which gets dogged with continuous grinding , making it behave like a hard crest over a soft underlying core.
Swarn Singh, my senior colleague in the Company was a pure Jat sardar belonging to a well-off farmer family from a village near Ambala. He was posted in Chandigarh. He had a room in the same sector. But he usually used to go back to his village at least 4 days a week excluding Sundays. In those days, trade unions used to be ruling the roost in most companies. Swarn Singh was a union leader and was totally fearless and in loggerheads with his immediate Boss and management. The Company was virtually under unionistic clutches and run by the union leaders in spirit. Guys from Kolkata and UP were at the helm of affairs running the All-India council. So, they would closely be working with the leadership to lay down norms for employees to keep the interests intact for both the parties. The union-management tussle is always like that of a fight of snake and mongoose. In this Company, the union had all the say and the last word. Decisions were primarily council driven. Before my joining, Swarn Singh had turned out to be a dissident and formed his own local union detaching himself from the main All India body. This in a way would have suited the management, but it actually didn’t when it mattered the most, He was fearless and would not agree to anything but his own. But he had a heart to support those who needed.
He suggested me to shift to his room on sharing basis to save some money and let my family go back to Jammu. By that time one of my married sister’s had managed to built a house of her own there. Mom also needed to be there to follow her pension case and get it released fast. This suggestion of Swarn made sense as need of the hour that time was to manage with limited income. He helped me to buy a second-hand scooter, a Bajaj Priya, and made me comfortable and support in the company so I could concentrate on my job well.
Months later, the feelings of separation from my family crept in . I was wanting our family to be together and progress. I was not enjoying work also as there was a continuous tussle going on in the Company. The growth opportunities seemed bleak. There was job security though under the gambit of the union but there was lack of accountability and no hope of growth . Even the managers would take its shelter to escape their responsibility. I started to feel the pinch both ways but more on the finance front. I seriously started hunting for job in other companies to get a jump in my emoluments. I applied in few MNCs which were supposed to be great pay masters in that era. I finally was lucky and got a job in Pfizer, after a series of rigorous interview rounds. It was like a dream come true. Pfizer India in that era had started recruiting people after a gap 20 years as part of their growth plans in India in view of the new reformed policies paving way for economic growth which then the Finance minister Dr. Manmohan Singh had brought in. My pay went up 4-fold soon after joining apart from other perks. I got my first posting in Ludhiana. In less than a month only, I shifted my family to Ludhiana. We got 2 BHK set on rent to live. Meanwhile Mom’s family pension also got through for re-disbursement by authorities. But we still were deficient of lot many things. We had to start from a scratch. We were lacking in household infrastructure and basic amenities required in a place which climatically was quite different than our homeland. But one thing which clearly emerged was that we had already set up a new nest only to strengthen, secure and beautify it.
An interesting recall, the day prior to the day I had to join at Ludhiana, I packed my baggage which comprised of one attaché and a backpack. I tied the attaché with a rope to the pillion seat of my Priya scooter. Tucked my bag in the front between my legs and bade good bye to Chandigarh. I set for Ludhiana early in the morning after taking few tips and road directions from my friends not realizing that Punjab also happened to be under the grip of militancy during that era. I reached near Morinda ( 20–25 kms away from Chandigarh) . I lost the track of the road. It was early morning and peak winters. I couldn’t find many people on road to seek help for road directions . I kept on driving at snail’s pace on the same road to find someone I could ask for the route which would have led me to Ludhiana. I eventually found to Jats on the roadside who looked to be farmers. I stopped and asked for Ludhiane da rasta (Road to Ludhiana) .They first looked at me with astonishment and gave a cryptic expression . Oh tussi to galat aaye ho . Ye te Ropar nu janda (You are on wrong road brother. This one goes to Ropar). Ropar or Roopnagar used to one of those feared names in news regarding militant related episodes and killings. The other Jat retorted and pointed to some direction, tusi na hun iss road te nikal jao (You may take this road now) . Before he could finish to explain the route further, the first Jat interrupted him. O na pai… udhur nu nahi. Uthhay kal he 2 bandhe maarte bhabiye ne. (No brother ,don’t let him go that way. there have been killings by some terrorists yesterday only on that road). Tussi wapis jao issi road tey aur 2 kms peechay dhayein no muddon ( Go back on this road and turn right after 2kms or so ). I managed to reach Ludhiana in the afternoon ,straight to Punjab Agricultural University campus, the only green area one would find then in Ludhiana , where my colleague turned friend of previous company was living with his mother a real Punjabi putter ( lively person) Rana . I can never forget the love and care I got from them during this transition phase.
I found Ludhiana city scruffy and thronging with people haphazard traffic and irritating noise. The city gave a lousy look to me more from a perspective that I had been living previously in cities like Srinagar, Jammu and Chandigarh much cleaner and greener in respect. For several years, I used to call it Louisiana. I really didn’t like the city aesthetics but for my compulsion to live for my livelihood. But with passing days, I found people despite being totally business oriented were vibrant, simple, cultured and out of the way kind accommodative as most Indian old cities. In due course, I found that Sahir’s town had a heart, cultural and societal in nature unlike Chandigarh, where it meant business more majority ,while lacking in warmth of humanism.
With this I conclude my story of pre & post era of displacement from our motherland, Kashmir.
A tree may grow up sky high, but it can never detach itself from its roots. The ghosts of separation from our roots shall keep coming and haunting us until peace is set to placate them.
If you have missed the first 3 parts of my Exodus story. Please click on the links below here are the links :-
To get more insights and heart rending stories about KP exodus of 1990 and its after effects, please click on to see the videos below:-
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