Could he really trust her? He debated the question in his mind and after a while replied, “If the CIA was unable to find it, no one can. Let it remain where it is.”
“Birbal, it is one thing to conceal something while you are stationary. It is something else when you move. Look, so far the treasure could have been concealed anywhere in this suite. Now it has to be either on your person or in your suitcase. That makes it very easy. Hope you see my point,” Rachel explained patiently.
“I do see your point. But I assure you that even now the treasure is beyond anybody’s reach. Why don’t you try again?”
Rachel took it as an open challenge. Furious at him she took two steps towards him, then stopped and yelled, “Don’t move. Remain where you are.”
“Okay,” he responded with a mocking smile.
He stood there and Rachel went through his pockets, felt every part of his dress, his body, then ordered him to step out of his shoes; she could not find the treasure on his person. “It has to be in the suitcase.” She ordered Birbal to remain where he was and moved to the suitcase. Birbal flung the keys into her waiting hands. She opened the case and searched. She searched every nook and corner of the case. She went through every item in it. She did not find the treasure. Now she was totally disgusted. She sat there watching Birbal. “Unbelievable, incredible. Oh God!” She jumped to her feet. Have I been taken for a ride? The man probably has no treasure at all. But then my information could not be wrong, she thought to herself. She thought hard and was furious; she had to do something. She yelled at him, “You son of a bitch. You have no treasure with you. You have been simply deceiving me all this time and do you know the consequences?” Birbal simply smiled at her shrugging his shoulders. This put Rachel on fire.
She put her hand into the pocket of her jacket. It was a reflex action but her revolver was gone. Birbal continued to stare at her. Very casually he moved over to the bed, lifted the corner of the mattress and brought out the revolver. As he turned, Rachel saw him standing in front of her with his hand drawn out and carrying her gun. She was totally crestfallen now. But Birbal came to her rescue. He flung the gun into her direction and said, “I don’t think it is required where you can use your brains—come now it is getting late.”
“No,” Rachel, holding the gun in both hands, thundered, “You are not moving out from here unless you tell me where the treasure is.” She advanced menacingly towards Birbal. But he stood his ground, never losing his calm. He quietly replied, “Cut it Rachel. Your revolver is empty. Again it is brains. But I shall tell you where the treasure lies.”
She was totally flabbergasted now. Her hands fell down and she stood there utterly outwitted by this clever man. In total resignation she lifted her eyes to him and said, “I trust you completely. Now if you please, do tell me where it lies.”
Birbal was flattered and quite excited. He began to dance around the astonished lady and sang as best as he could—Choli Kay peechay Kya Hai? Choli Kay Peechay… She said nothing, just watched him sing and dance around her. She understood no word of what he was singing. Then after a while he stopped and Rachel asked, “What was that?”
“Oh my God,you don’t understand Hindi!”
“No, not a word,” she replied.
“In that case I shall have to tell you that the 370 coins are glued to the inside of your Choli, that is your bra. I fixed them as you enjoyed your bath at night.”
Rachel inadvertently put her hand inside her bra.
“Oh my God! You are right, but where are the cards?”
“Safely glued to the inside of your pants, my dear lollypop,” said Birbal to the dazed CIA agent.
The old mental hospital renamed “Hospital for Psychiatric Diseases” by a missionary who spent many years managing the patients there was on fire. The fire started in the rear of the sprawling complex and spread very fast. It was a holiday and most of the hospital staff were away. The few men on duty tried everything but could not prevent the fire from spreading and in a short while leaping flames engulfed the entire complex. People living nearby rushed to the spot. The fire brigade took its own time in reaching the place. Volunteers risked their lives and extricated the patients. Most of the inmates were just watching the flames disinterestedly. In all, 79 patients were rescued and moved to the nearby poultry farm. Late in the day the hospital superintendent and his staff arrived. They took stock of the situation. The entire building had been razed to the ground. The fire had been extinguished but a thick cloud of smoke continued to rise leisurely and spread in the sky above.
The doctors checked their patients, counted their heads. After a number of checks and cross checks they concluded that two patients were missing. A young doctor was quick to note that Lally and Gani were not present. The hospital staff was of the unanimous opinion that both of them had remained inside the burning hospital and had most likely been ravaged by the flames. What no one knew was that as the fire had begun spreading Gani had managed to enter the room where Lally had been sitting unconcerned with her head hidden between her knees. He had lifted her to her feet, dressed her in a pheran and moved her out through a back door. No one had seen them as they sped away from the burning complex. They straightaway moved towards the hillock, passing under almond trees. Gani continued to hold her hand as they walked. By and by they reached Fani’s hermitage. Gani recognized the place even in its dilapidated condition. It was in ruins. Gone were the days when it would be teeming with students of Fani. Gani and Lally sat there in the courtyard of the once grand mosque. After a brief while, Gani stood up and leaving Lally there to rest for a while moved in. He wanted to see the place properly. Who knew Fani may be there, seated on his favourite couch looking straight above the Lake at his favourite spot—the lonely observatory on the mountains. Gani went into the mosque. No one had come to pray. Gani looked at the Imam’s place where Fani would lead the prayers. From the mosque Gani moved to the adjoining ruins. Here were the cubicles for Fani’s pupils. They were of course empty. In one of the cubicles a bitch had whelped. Her little pups were moving here and there, waiting for their mother to return. Did Fani know of this? Gani wondered and moved away. Lastly he reached the lion’s den—Fani’s own quarters where Gani had generally been a witness and sometimes a participant in the heated discussions. Here Fani would be at his argumentative and eloquent best.
Removing his shoes outside, as was the practice, Gani went in. The room was empty. Gani walked cautiously towards the exalted place where his master used to sit. He was apprehensive. He expected Fani to materialize from the void and in his unique style admonish him for being late for his discourse. But nothing of the sort happened of course. He sat down and closed his eyes. For a long while he sat there, motionless, lost in the recesses of his own being. He thought of nothing and then it came. He felt a hand descend on his shoulder. He opened his eyes. He turned his head. The hand moved away from his shoulder. Gani began to stand up. “Keep sitting,” Fani commanded.
“Master where are you?” Gani spoke in anguish. Fani’s familiar laugher filled the room. “It is pitch dark. Master give me light,” Gani prayed. “You…yourself, you are the light, the cause and the effect of light. Why do you demand light, Gani?” Fani lectured.
“Master I am lost in time.” Gani began but Fani cut him short.
“Time is one single entity. How do you divide it to know you are lost? If you are lost, you are lost from a place, then you are present at a place, and from whence did you fall prey to such vile thoughts?”
“Master I do not know,” Gani submitted.
“Yes that is it. You know that you do not know. That is the ultimate of knowledge. Perfect and complete knowledge. Rest of it is all trash.”
“Master tell me, this upheaval, turbulent Dal, what is it?” Gani asked.
“You are talking of the rocking boat, the strong wind and the dark sky? The boatman, gone to sleep, discarding his ores? Don’t worry. The cloud will pass. He will arise and steady the boat,” Fani said, and his words, magically, seemed to fill the room with light. Gani got to his feet. He looked around him. No one was there. He shouted at the top of his voice; “Master, Master.” But there was no reply. He came out of Fani’s enclosure and headed for the mosque. He had begun to worry about his companion. He entered the courtyard. Lally was gone.
Like a wounded tigress madam paced the floor of her drawing room. She had been on her feet the entire night. Budshah lay slumped on a sofa. It had been a terrible night for him too. Suddenly a loud voice rose from the nearby mosque and shattered the still atmosphere of the last remnants of the night. “Allah-o-Akbar, Allah-o-Akbar”. As a reflex, madam stopped pacing the floor. She lifted her hands and covered her hair with the dupatta that lay across her shoulders. Budshah opened his eyes but did not move. The Azaan was delivered. The morning had arrived and with it came the rumblings of an approaching automobile. It seemed to become louder and louder till finally a screeching sound announced the arrival of a wagon. Madam ran to the window. Budshah got up from his seat and followed. A wagon was stationed outside. The chauffeur came down, and moving around the automobile came to the opposite side and opened the door. Many voices emanated from inside the vehicle. The driver held the door open. One by one the girls alighted. Madam was overjoyed. She turned to Budshah, “The girls are back. Praise be to Allah.” Budshah could clearly see a tear roll out from her eyes. She turned her head to look again. Budshah also concentrated on the scene outside. The girls came out and then a tall bearded man alighted from the vehicle. The driver bowed in reverence.
An excerpt from Ayaz Rasool Nazki’s book SATISAR, THE VALLEY OF DEMONS published by Vitasta Publishing and the book is available on www.vitastapublishing.com