Story 18

It has been raining for the last few days in Kolkata and tonight was not different. As Madhubala stood beside the window, the rain soaked wind swept across her face. The wrinkled cheeks managed to smile as she closed her eyes. Rain brought back so many memories for her.

She distinctly remembered that day. The radios announced that a treaty has been signed between Union Jack and Hindustan. The treaty was based on the pact that Hindustan will be divided into two separate countries India and Pakistan and religion was the only way of proving whether you were an Indian or Pakistani. Little Madhubala was oblivious to everything. She was busy playing with Shazia and her trying to make two swans with her two hands. She remembered her father running up to her, literally snatching her away from her friends. Madhubala cried a lot. So did her father.

She remembered crossing the Kashmir border and for the first time she found herself amidst snowfall. The sheer beauty of the nature astounded her as she looked around dumstruck. She didn't realise people crossing sides frantically - a last minute attempt to get themselves recognised as a citizen of a country. All she could see was a group of young kids standing in a circle on the snowy path.

She never thought that she would get married in a country about which she had no clue. She didn't even realise that Peshwar will never come back to her again. As a 10 year old Madhubala with a mehendi clad hand got ready to be married to a 18 year old  Shashwat, her mother explained to her that this is where "jannat" lies. This is the place about which Shazia used to tell her. This consolation was enough to make Madhubala smile.

The sudden lightening stirred up Madhubala. Oh, age brings back so much of memories. She switched on the light and slowly went to the corner of the room. She opened her steel trunk and brought out the Waterman camera which was in tatters right now. She fondled it slowly as she walked towards the window. The rain filled wind again swept her face. Strangely after 89 years it felt a lot like Peshwar. Yes. It felt a lot like Hindustan.