"The Dead Jhelum River"

I was fourteen years old when my father died due to a serious illness! He loved me so much; his love gleamed in his feeble face. My father, Abdullah, the most adorable father I have ever seen, worked in a local Spice Factory in Srinagar, earned some money to run the house and was my first teacher. We had a small goat, whom I fed with green leaves of Mulberry trees, who gave us milk. He was a pious person who spent his life lucidly. He always advised me to perform Salah heartily five times a day. Child as I was, I used to read the glorious Qur’an in the morning. My young brother, whose name was Aslam, was lazy as a sloth. Father would scold him because he did not go to school regularly. To him, School seemed like a hospital to which he was asked to admit.

My mother had already died when I was a toddler. I knew her name, Taja Begum, but I couldn’t remember her face, so I died away every day to know how she looked like. I got my mother’s love from my elder sister, but she was married to Abu Zaid Zameer at the age of twenty-five. Her name was Farida and Father considered her to be the roof of our cottage.

My brother called me ‘Zari’, though my father named me ‘Zareef. I loved my brother very much but he looked enviously at my style. After failing in 12th exam, he left school vehemently. He became a bus driver of ‘Public School’, Srinagar. Unfortunately, he got mixed up with bad friends and started taking drugs. Despite my completing graduation in Arts, he stopped me to receive further education. The reason was our poverty and his poor conservative thought.

My uncle, kaka looked after me, after my father’s death. Whenever I went to my Kaka’s home I used to play in the garden. Kaka had twin daughters, Tayman and Sabira. They were funny peculiar girls, jealous of each other, and waved to adoring me. My second home was gone when Aslam quarreled with Kaka over a small piece of land. He also threw a stone at him.

Sara was my bosom friend. She visited my home to enjoy with me. She was the only girl with whom I could discuss my problems. We entertained and played some games like Hopscotch. I brought a Tailor machine so as to earn. I was satisfied with my job. Sometimes I used to teach a few students at home. I was like a wandering bird living in the nest.

I had a very strange thing happen to me when was twenty-two. My brother decided that I should marry to whom he was searching for. I was not willing to marry at an early age. Actually, I wished to do an M.A in English literature. Over the years, I had grown very fond of literature; in my veins was a literature that flows like water from the rill and it never made me old. I read some books by Sir Muhammad Iqbal, William Wordsworth, Faiz Ahmad Faiz, Shakespeare, Rosul Mir, and T.S. Eliot. I liked to become a writer.

I lost my dreams; flying by the fearsome tempest, buried into the abyss of the ocean! I was married to a man. People called him Ustad Bhai. He was thirty-two years old and I was twenty-four. I was handed to him as he was a government employee. Although he was literate, he was a goose. I thought my brother hurried to choose a life partner for me. Though, he married a girl whom he loved.

Ustad Bhai was the person that I was dissatisfied with. What a lot of trouble I was in! The first four months everything was great, but then we just seemed to drift apart. He had never brought any new clothes for me when I requested. Although I could manage, poverty was not the case; his rude behavior was poverty for me. He was dubious about certain issues of mine. He was a real crook. Initially, he proved to be good; later on, he started punishing me briskly.

He said to me,” give me your jewelry and wealth so that I will start a business.”

He lost them in gambling very badly. I requested him not to play gambling. I thought I would be done by a nod and a wink. He told me gambling was his first wife and he couldn’t leave her. He warned me not to go to my parent’s home. An ongoing home without his permission, he whipped me like a horse. In fact, his old father was not a beast as he was.

“What will happen to my daughter? Shahida just started to crawl; I am a dead bird inside the cage! But she is still alive.’’ I asked him.

He said nothing; he nodded at me, he just left us and went with his friends to play the game of gambling.

My friend, brother, and no one liked going to my lawyer’s house, because his flippant tone irked them. Only his friends were allowed to come and to enjoy gambling. Generally, they played this game in an Apple Orchard, known as ‘Sharab Bagh’ (the wine orchard). It was the place where peddlers and gamblers used to go on an excursion. It was the home of my husband. He came home at midnight. He left us desolate in the midst of horrifying nights. Indeed, those nights were the worst nights in my entire life. One of his friends had a bad intention towards me. I was reading a book, ‘the valley of Kashmir’ by Lawrence, which was brought by my father, while my daughter was sleeping in the evening. He rushed into the room as quickly as a ghost appeared. As soon as he touched my hand, I slapped him forcefully. I shrieked at him! I saw him climbing over the window. Ustad reached home at midnight after losing gambling. I told the entire story to him. He couldn’t punish his friend. Instead, he blamed me for the whole matter. He also tore my book into small pieces. What an uncouth he was! We separated after a year together. I got divorced! It was like someone put the whole Himalaya on my shoulders! I begged him to stop the decision. So quickly did it all happen that I never got good luck at his terrible face. Did he not realize that he had had a daughter?

“Oh, my lord has mercy! What will happen to my daughter who is in my idle hands?” said I. He didn’t like her as he wanted to have a son.

I returned home safely. I was shocked to know my friend committed suicide due to the sudden death of her husband in a street accident. Sara vaulted into the River Jhelum. Jumping into the river became a new trend in Kashmir. I felt that my life was hopeless, terrible, and anxious. I was worried about my daughter’s future.

A couple of months ago my husband ran off with another woman who was more beautiful than me. There were a couple of matters which I wanted to bring up for discussion. But I would like to prefer to leave that aside and come back to life. I couldn’t do anything against him, as no one was with me except a little baby. Naseema was my sister -in-law and she had bull eyes. I became a burden to my brother, I knew that money was going to dry up. She did not want me to live to continue there, so she started plotting against me. To them, I was an ‘old wooden trunk’ that was useless. I was expected that their behavior would be different. The only reason that I left home immediately was that I felt ashamed.

I had to depart for somewhere else. I still loved them, but I felt they had let me down. I was unrelenting in my search for a home. I was crying so loud like the melting of the Himalayan glacier from my shoulders! I couldn’t admit my daughter to any primary school. Some people tried helping me only for their benefit while others helped me sincerely, but I was not only a girl, there were more Zareefs like me in Kashmir. I still hankered in search of a home. Finally, I went to my sister’s home; she lived at Srinagar near the Jhelum River. Her mother-in-law used to treat her heartlessly. Her name was Saja Begum and was fifty years old. My sister compromised her harsh treatment because her husband loved her too much. She raised wrinkles on her forehead at me like the cracks in the cornfield. She was always trying to put me down.

My sister and I used to be good friends, but we fell out when I refused to marry again. What a callous month was that I spent there! We left the place right off the bat. I walked off the place early in the cold morning breeze. I covered the blanket over my daughter in the murky. I wished if the cold would kill us. Because everything looked weird, I had no idea where to go. My heart was sinking with the overflow of grief! My mind was trumped by the devil.

Finally, I decided I should commit suicide along with my daughter. We had to jump into Jhelum. While walking on foot towards the Jhelum, I met ‘an old man on the way. Under a tree was lying one of the biggest ‘Peer Baba Shah’ I had ever seen. He wore tattered clothes, had a rosary in his hand and his spirituality could be seen easily. He looked at me and asked my destination. I couldn’t reply to him. Baba Shah was guided by intuition and traced my dreary face. He said to me:

“Oh, my daughter, look back on your child. If you come here with the intention of suicide, don’t do. You must not commit suicide as it will never kill you. If you kill yourself, you will be killed many times till domes day. If you try to kill, then you are the killer; the killer of yourself as well as your Innocent daughter. So don’t commit suicide for the cause of miseries, and miseries will one day become the cause of happiness! Let’s hope! Have forbearance. You will be rewarded. Trust on your lord who created everyone.”

When I reached the river Jhelum, the words of Baba Shah passed me as the Vortex; they were whispering my ears and I held my tongue. I was on the bridge and was bewildered! I looked at the river and screamed:

” Oh, Jhelum! Oh, Dead River! The River of corpses! The water grave! The wild one! The one who is the thirst of blood! I am giving life to you: The life of a timid girl like a pebble in your arms, the life of innocent children like a zephyr from your mouth, and the life of life like the death of the sun! But promise me. Float our bodies away from here. Know people are so greedy! So arrogant! Look at my Miseries through your blue-windy eyes. Look at my tears that fall out into your yard and that will drown you!’’

The Jhelum looked like the dead river. I thought for a moment what if Baba Shah would be right. Why should I offer my life to the river? Why not the lord? He created me and the river.

“Now I understand suicide is more painful! It fools me even. It is not the river that is death, it is we people who become so greedy. The River provides us water for use, it flows and it holds everything like flowers, things, and thorns. We pollute it by jumping into it. That is why it becomes so violent and stretches its arms (floods) ’’ I said.

I shouldn’t kill myself, my daughter, and thus kill humanity. I submitted my will to my Allah (ﷺ). I put negativity down into River Jhelum and nearly reached the other side of the vale. My ‘despairing moan’ was washed off into the whys and the wherefores of the situation. I was sniffing and whipping my eyes with hands on the bridge when I noticed a young-looking man. He passed across the bridge and saw us. He came hurrying up the path. He brought bread from the Shop near the bridge. He found us lonely in the midst of trepidation! He forced us to stay at his home but I refused. He did not want to leave us on the bridge. We went with him. He asked me to sit and cool down at his home. I sat in the ‘emotional chair’ and was nodded off in it. I seemed to be very nervous! He treated us more than my brother. I told him the entire story about my life. His tears shed like pearls!

“What is your name?’’ he asked to me. ‘’ don’t worry dear; I am inspired by your modesty. What a lovely baby you have!’’

“Zareef is my name and I am the worst mother,” replied I.

Indeed, he was an honest man and belonged to a good family. His name was Hamid. His parents welcomed us to stay. Hamid was unmarried and completed his master's in Sociology from Kashmir University. He used to go to Madīrīs for Islamic education. He looked like a Modern man but was a good human. He helped me to wind down after hard days. He taught me true knowledge of Islam.

I started performing Salah again after a long time. Indeed, I never remembered my lord heartily after marriage. Hamid worked as a teacher in one Private High School. I was also appointed as a teacher there by his efforts. The principal considered me to be the best girl for the job. I stayed at his home for three months. In fact, those months were the days of atonement. He wanted to marry me. It took me many days to decide what I should do. He married me. He accepted my daughter as his own.

I thanked Allah (ﷺ) for everything which He made for me. I was so happy that the burden of Himalaya fell down from my shoulders. Had I not met Hamid or Peer Baba, I would have not been so happy and the situation would have been different. After five months of my marriage, I was taken to the bridge where I wanted to commit suicide. Hamid asked me if I knew the bridge. I enjoyed being taken to the bridge. I looked at the river, laughed, and said:

‘’owing to miseries that I wanted to commit suicide, they are actually nothing but ‘decoded excitements’. It means Suicide is the sheer stupidity of life.’’

I also got admission to M.A English through IGNOU. I would have been no life if I had had no patience. After I had spent three years with Hamid, my former spouse died, but I was not happy at his demise, as one man was reduced in life, so I prayed for him as a human being.

One morning, it was raining heavily. Ustad’s wife Rubeena stepped into my house when I was cooking food. She was mourning when I saw her. Her voice was wearied and frozen into coldness. His tears mixed with rain!

“At the time of his illness, my husband wrote a letter for you. Initially, he behaved impolitely. When he fell seriously ill, he got changed completely. He had been lying in a bed for more than a year. He regretted every day. He respected me a lot. He told me your story. He begged forgiveness for what he had done to you. He proved a good husband before his death.’’ She said ruefully to me.

She handed me a letter. The letter was packed with rubber bands. I opened the letter and read:

“I am writing this letter in English because I know you have the mastery of it. If I mistake, you can correct me. Your advice changes me in toto. Now, I pray to Salah daily. I have two daughters: Shahida and Mariyam. They are two arms of mine; one is with you and the other is with me. May Allah bestow you a long life! I also divorced my first wife (Gambling), because without you she is a lady sleeper. She is a childless woman as well as a bad wife.

Alas! Dear Zareef. The world is fun! We came into the world as butterflies and moths. We have a small journey where we have broken wings. We destroy each other’s wings. I have broken your wings. I am deeply ashamed! The grief consumes me and my flesh! I am sick.” I have a quote for you:

“Ocean of sorrow, tattered clothes, and a broken heart can change one’s life!”

“Oh, how great my lord is! He made me sick. He has forgiven my ocean of sins. He made your life shine. I am your sinner. I am regretting it! Only if I stand, I will fall your feet. I apologize to you. Please forgive me and my sins; If not here or at least after my death. I am looking for your reply and forgiveness.”

When I closed the letter, l put my hands up to forgive him. I prayed to my lord to grant him paradise. I wondered how he could express poetic emotions. I realized that he had learned a lot in bed. The bed taught him a great lesson of life. After taking tea with me, Rubeena thanked me. She went home optimistically as I forgave her husband.

I started preaching and giving lectures on Suicide. “I think I should make an organization which will work for the welfare of miserable people,’’ I said to Hamid.

‘Of course,’ Hamid replied, ‘You have to do it quickly.’

With the help of Him, I named it ‘Lull’ meaning- let's live long. The theme is:

“Life is short but we make it too shorter. We should hope it long as real life is so long. We must not commit suicide because of miseries which are temporaries too.”

I delivered public lectures on Suicide. I convinced people that it is not the answer to the question rather the question to be rubbed off. If I Had committed suicide, I would have been so stupid. I tried to help the poor. I counseled those people who lived in such dilemmas. At last, I felt realized- the nostalgic memories of my hard days.

My life was changed completely. My brother appreciated me and my courage. He lamented for his sins. I felt I was besieged by a bunch of happiness! Hence everything was changed and in favor of me.