The village, nestled in the countryside of Kashmir, offered breathtaking natural beauty with many mustard fields around. Taking a right turn from the main highway, Bashar stopped the car. The villagers looked at them curiously as they enquired about Armaan’s family. Bashar spoke in local Kashmiri, describing Armaan’s appearance and blindness.
“Aapko unse kyun milna hai? Why do you want to meet them?” A shopkeeper asked suspiciously. Kabir and Bashar exchanged a meaningful glance, unsure of how to respond.
“I’m just a well-wisher, I want to meet them,” Kabir said. The shopkeeper scrutinised them briefly before providing directions. “Shukria Jinab,” Bashar expressed gratitude, thanking the shopkeeper. As they departed, the shopkeeper swiftly dialled a number and spoke in hushed tones, “Assalamualikum Jinab, kuch log aaye hue hain yahan par. Some people have arrived here.”
Kabir noticed the heightened military presence in the village, with armed men patrolling the streets. “Bashar, why are there so many military men around?”
“It’s a sensitive area, Bhaya. The lockdown has just been lifted, so the military is here to maintain law and order,” Bashar explained. The atmosphere felt tense and Kabir could feel his nerves unravelling. “Is it safe here?”
Bashar reassured him with a smile, “Don’t worry, we’ve witnessed worse.” However, during their conversation, Bashar detected a fleeting change in the shopkeeper’s expression. Being well-acquainted with the people of Kashmir, he recognised it as a sign that something was amiss. Bashar knew the locals were often guarded, but this seemed different. Bashar’s mind wandered, contemplating an excuse to leave. “Listen, Kabir Bhaya, I think it’s best if I take off now. You’re a tourist here and have nothing to worry about. But things can get unpredictable around here and it’s better for you to remain cautious.”
Kabir nodded, comprehending the underlying message. “I understand, Bashar. I’ll be careful and keep in touch if I need anything.”
“Good,” Bashar replied, “and if you do need assistance, just give me a call, I’ll be there to pick you up. But please try to finish your work quickly.”
Kabir smiled and nodded, “Sure, take care of yourself too.” With that, Bashar drove away. Kabir watched him depart before turning his attention to the surrounding shops. One shopkeeper caught his eye, conveying a hint of concern through his gaze. Kabir wondered what it could mean but dismissed it momentarily, determined to continue exploring the village. Standing outside Armaan’s modest home, Kabir’s heart raced with anticipation.
He couldn’t help but feel nervous about what lay ahead. Would Armaan’s family welcome him? He took a deep breath and knocked on the door. As he waited for someone to answer, Kabir couldn’t help but notice the curious stares of passersby. He felt a pang of self-consciousness, wondering what they thought of him. But he quickly pushed those thoughts aside as the door opened and a woman peered out. Her eyes widened in surprise as she saw Kabir. Quickly covering her face, she turned sideways and greeted him with a polite “Assalamualikum, ji kaun? Who is it?”
Kabir smiled warmly at her. “I’m Kabir, Kabir Raina,” he replied, his voice steady despite the nerves that still churned in his stomach. “Kabir? Kabir Sahab?” The woman’s face lit up with recognition. Kabir nodded in response. “Sahab ji, Sahab ji, atthe aao, Kabir sahab aayene. Please come here, Mr Kabir has arrived.” Armaan’s father appeared at the door, his eyes wide with shock. “Kabir?” he exclaimed, his voice thick with emotion. Without hesitation, he pulled Kabir into a warm embrace. “Please come in,” he said, his voice choked with emotion. Kabir noticed Armaan’s sharp resemblance to his father.
Kabir stepped inside, taking in the modest surroundings of the house. He felt a sense of humility wash over him, seeing the simplicity of the space, and also a deep sense of gratitude for the warm welcome he had received. As he sat down in a chair, Kabir’s eyes eagerly scanned the room, hoping to catch a glimpse of Armaan. Armaan’s mother quickly served him water and the family chatted excitedly with him. “There could not have been a better surprise for us than this, Kabir Sahab,” Armaan’s father exclaimed, his joy evident.
Kabir couldn’t help but feel a sense of relief at their warm reception. He had been nervous about how they would react to his unexpected visit, but their kindness and hospitality put him at ease. Armaan’s father beamed with joy as he welcomed Kabir into their home. “I hope I’m not disturbing you by dropping in unannounced,” Kabir replied, feeling a little guilty for showing up without warning. “No, no, nothing like that. Why didn’t you call us?” Armaan’s father asked. “I tried calling your number, but it was out of network,” Kabir explained. “Ah, yes. I forgot to text you my new number, the old network was really bad.”
Excerpted with permission from The Valley of Unfinished Songs, Umair Ahmed Khan, Rupa Publications.
