SOFT TARGET

By M S Nazki

Soft target: She was good but perhaps married to a wrong man! But what they had was a gem that was to fall in another’s hand!

‘And when all the wars are over, a butterfly will still be beautiful. To be able to laugh and to be merciful are the only things that make man better than the beast’!

-`This incident happened because it had to and it did and the place had to be somewhere in Jammu and Kashmir to be exact somewhere near Anantnag.’

-’It was in the mid nineties when the fury of Kalashnikov rifles had made a big furrow into Kashmir and the young kids thought that they would conquer the world. But they forgot one thing, ‘rifles only fire till enough bullets are in the magazine, if barrels go empty the rifles are useless’! The same happened!

-‘They also forgot one more thing and that was, you cannot kill everyone but the worst was hitting the soft targets. In this case they went for one’!

-‘The terrorists have always gone for soft targets, I mean cardboards because they cannot hit back but the hard targets and stone faced ones do hit back and that to lethally! The one eyed Nazir from Lashkar-e-Toiba the terror group was going to get a reply as he had opted to go for a soft target’!

‘People often ask me why my style is so simple. It is, in fact, deceptively simple, for no two sentences are alike. It is clarity that I am striving to attain, not simplicity. But the bad habit with me is that I go for a twist in the tale. This one has one. This story is of Nafisa, daughter of a wretch Nazir married to Naseema. The gem landed up in my hands, Nazir found the graveyard and Naseema died!’

-‘How evanescent those loves and friendships seem at this distance in time…We move on, make new attachments. We grow old. But sometimes, we hanker for old friendships, the old loves. Sometimes I wish I was young again. I always say now as Nafisa grew and I brought her up in a manner as my other five have, I mean daughters and I call them Pandavas. Two are mine but three adopted. She was the first and now in the USA a doctor living with my sister in law! Some stories do have a ridiculous beginning but great middles and endings. This is one of them!

-’This is a story of an Army officer who lives for the uniform still since his whole family had worn it and that is the ancestral lineage! Readers may think that there is an element of fiction here but trust me it’s not because these are just notes in a diary where old words written are being freshened up!

‘The trees in Aishmuqam seemed to know me. They whispered among themselves and beckoned me nearer. And looking around, I noticed the other small trees and wild plants and grasses had sprung up under the protection of the trees. They seemed so natural and so was that wonderful house where Naseema stayed but the information about the house was not good because Nazir was in the wrong company! In short the house was under surveillance and it was me who had to do it!’

Slowly, surely and steadfastly I had come to know about Nazir and I once warned him that he should drop off the black cloak lent to him for a short time because the dead end is certain and it’s only the time he has to choose. This I was telling him because I knew that death was chasing him and he thought that I was bluffing. I was not because that night time he had decided but God had decided something else! Naseema had delivered a child like a Goddess! I decided to postpone Nazir’s death wish! I knew I had disobeyed an instruction from my superior but I still thought that the man would listen! I did get a verbal reprimand the next day in the office but I just smiled it off with a one liner, ‘some other time sir’!

Happiness is as exclusive as a butterfly, and you must never pursue it. If you stay very still, it may come and settle on your hand. But only briefly. Savour those moments, for they will not come in your way very often. This is what life is and I had told the lady Naseema to tell her husband to get out of the dragnet he had fallen into because now he is a father, the reply from the lady shocked me, ‘he is a shaitaan and a zalim’! I smiled, walked off and I knew it was time to kill! But did tell the lady that if you can pursue the man with this sentence, I would be the happiest, happiness is a mysterious thing, to be found somewhere between too little and too much. The reply was emotional, nothing can persuade him but I will try but brother I know what is his end and mine too!

That was that and the night had to be a horror filled one in that house amongst the trees. Many had to die and a gem had to shine. Gun fight, terror knocked out and an innocent killed leaving a child screaming. This was found out after mopping up operations. I told Rakesh to pick her up and get her to me! It was freezing cold and I was wearing a peacock blue pullover which my mother in law had knitted. I removed it and wrapped her in it and till now the doctor loves the blue colour. Just a small matter of fact, I also do so! I have taught her only one thing in life all glory comes from daring to begin. I wish every father in Kashmir teaches the same to their daughters! The past is always with us, for it feeds the present but it is the present we live in because it is going to feed the future. Let us make the future great in Kashmir. That is a small little message which I wanted to convey and hence used this small anecdote from the diary I write. Now my brother keep scribbling and maintaining the same! The tradition just continues!