by Ali Sharah

Son, why don’t you get yourself a wife? Ali’s father questioned him scornfully while filling tobacco in his ‘Hukka’(pipe). See Master Sadiq, our neighbors’ son, he is only twenty three and what a caring wife he has got for himself. I heard that she is a teacher in our village primary school. How lucky they are. What’s her name? He further asked getting excited.

‘Hakima’, Ali replied smiling looking at his father who was sitting near to him. But father, he said jokingly “where should I go looking for a bride for myself in this chilly winter? Let’s both wait for summer; I will bring a caring daughter in law for you then, I promise”.

“Hmmm, I hope you are man enough to do that” said his father after a deep thought.

Ali knew that his father was quite serious and he himself believed in getting married early at the right age. He used to love a girl in his village but she had eloped with a boy from their neighbor village Poyen a year ago. Now they were proud parents of a little girl born recently. Most of the girls in his village were either married or they were busy getting their cell phones recharged by their admirers. I hope Allah; the almighty will soon introduce me to my life partner he thought. Grandfather used to say that marriages are made in heaven and he can’t be wrong Ali told himself.

Soon father and son forget about the issue of adding a female member to their house and got busy with their respective works. Until summers came when one day suddenly his father said, “Get married son so that I can see the faces of my grandchildren before you bury me”.

“Sure father, I will if you wish so, soon’’, Ali said assuringlingly. This time Ali saw a strange appeal in his father’s eyes which he had never seen before. Ali dearly loved and obeyed him after his mother left this world a few years back. He was the only son and three of his sisters were all married off happily.

Ali belonged to a remote village called Batalik in Ladakh. His village was near to the Pakistan border which had got divided during the partition when he was very small, leaving most of his relatives and near ones to the other side of LoC. It was a village where most of the men were either government employees or owned small vehicles for livelihood. Most of the women were busy looking after their kids and cattle’s at home while they spent their free time in gossips. It was a beautiful village where young boys idolized Radhey aka Sallu bhai( a famous movie star) . Girls here loved to elope with young taxi drivers from other villages who wooed them with their large, spacious Scorpios and Xylos. Some parents though allowed their young girls to elope in order to save the wedding expenses. Education and enlightenment was still knocking at the door because the youngsters were fascinated with the Chinese cell phones in their hands and dhishum dhishum(fight) on the screen.

Ali was a taxi driver, he owned a Mahindra Scorpio and he was driving it to Chiktan today, a village which was around 70 kms away from his village. Passengers were all ready to go; Ali took off his sunglasses from the back collar of his shirt, put it on, looked in the mirror once and then started the engine to begin his trip. This was a journey in search of a bride for this young gentleman who always wanted to see his father happy and smiling, today this great fan of Chulbul Pandey(a character in a movie) was going to find a caring daughter in law for his father and a loving wife for himself but not without a fight. After an hour journey they reached Namkila or the stairway to the heaven, Ali switched off the stereo for a while and along with his fellow passengers was praising their creator for his blessings in their loud voices. Namkila was believed to be the

highest point on this road where the earth kissed the sky. It was a custom of these Ladakhi people whether Muslim or Buddhist to praise their God at this pinnacle, which was popularly known as the stairway to the heaven.

They stopped at Wakha for some refreshment, it was once a beautiful village but the flash flood previous year had washed away most of the houses and shops. Now there were only few shops and houses left and the place was like a ghost town now. After having tea Ali was strolling around and was feeling nostalgic about this beautiful place where he had a friend called Tundup. His friend had disappeared in the flash flood and was still to be found. While Ali was cherishing the time he had spent with his dear friend Tundup, he heard a soft voice from behind which was calling, “Ka lay…..ka lay”. He turned around to see a dusky pretty looking girl in her twenties calling out to him, his heart begin to jump the moment he saw her. She came near to him and enquired, “Ka lay are you going to Chiktan?” He nodded his head in affirmative being unable to say anything. She further asked, “If there is any seat available can you please drop me to Boodh Kharbu, only fifteen minutes away from Chiktan?” Ali was at once smitten by her sweet soft voice, without any delay he said, “Sure why not, you can sit in the front, I’ll ask Ghulam who is sitting in the front to shift in the back seat. There is a vacant seat at the back.”

“Please don’t bother him, I can sit in the back seat, it will hardly take an hour to reach Kharbu”.

“As you wish”, said Ali. She thanked him and occupied her place in the car. Ali paid for the tea and snacks then started his car to begin the rest of their journey. All the way he was thinking about this girl in the back seat.

Who is she?

Where she is from?

What is her name?

Married?

Is she a Muslim or a Buddhist?

O’ Allah, is she the one you made for me? All sorts of queries clouded his mind as he stole a glance at this stranger girl through the rear mirror.

I think my father will like her; she seems to be a nice girl from a nice family but what if she is not from my religion? May be I should ask her name, Ali thought to him. It was afternoon and they were about to reach Chiktan in few minutes, Ali asked Ghulam to collect the fare which was hundred rupees each and fifty rupees from the girl who had hopped on from Wakha. Ghulam collected the money and gave it to him and within few minutes they reached Chiktan. Everybody except the girl got down and bid farewell to them. Both of them continued the journey; Ali was driving slowly, frequently staring at the girl face from his rear mirror, it was a wonderful moment of his life and he was enjoying it. After mustering some courage he asked the girl sitting behind, “What is your name?

“Stanzin Angmo ka lay”, she replied smiling. His heart was in his boots and emptiness crept in; his father will never allow marrying him outside his religion. If he elopes with this girl it will leave his father humiliated and sad he thought. What if I convince her to convert and come with me? But it may create tension among two communities and I don’t want that. His head was among the stars and he didn’t realize they had reached Boodh Kharbu.

Ka lay, we are here will you please stop? The girl said in a loud sharp voice. Her voice made Ali to come back to his senses, he applied brakes and the car stopped with a loud SrEEekchh…

“I am really very sorry, my mistake”, he apologized to the girl who was little bit scared because of the sudden brakes. She said nothing and got down, gave him the money, bid him farewell and went towards a little girl who was waving and smiling at her from the other side of the road. He saw her going away, “ Ahhh….. What a hard day” he mourned but suddenly he heard something which made his heart jump from its place for the second time.

“Asalamalaikum achay lay ( elder sister)”, said the little girl who was waiting for this girl on the other side of the road.

“Walaikum asalam nomo lay (younger sister)”, replied the girl, both hugged each other and they stood there for some time talking.

Her name is not Stanzin for sure but why she lied to me Ali asked himself, he was bit annoyed and confused. He parked his car, then went to the girls who were still there talking. He said in a sharp tone, “Why did you say that your name is Stanzin Angmo? You lied to me I guess”.

“What difference it makes if I am Stanzin or Sakina. I guess both are the creations of the creator and both names deserve love and respect, don’t we?” she said politely and went away smiling. Ali was speechless and dumb struck at her answer. He stood there for some time watching her go away, and then he walked back to his car thinking.

I think she is right. God made us human. We all should try to be human first. Ali learnt an important lesson for his life today that names are mere an identity, God loves those who are righteous and have love and respect for their fellow beings. All this while he was trying to identify himself through a name but he had forgotten that love and respect was the only thing which had brought Tundup and him together. No matter how much his father disliked him because of difference in their faiths, Tundup was like a brother to him and only death could part them. He looked up towards the sky which was bright and beautiful as if blessings were coming down to him. Ali smiled, thanked God and the girl from his heart and drove back home.

Ali is a married man for two years now, He had eloped with a girl who is both caring and loving; definitely there was some hullah but God took good care of everything. His father is now a proud grandfather to his two beautiful children Khadija and Abuzar. Ali has got a bus recently and he is living a contented life with his old father, children and his loving wife ‘Stanzin Angmo’. He visits Wakha quite often to pay tribute to Tundup, a dear and a loving friend forever. You can visit their village and meet them if you happen to visit Ladakh sometimes in future. They will be happy to see you.

DEDICATED TO THE PEOPLE OF LADAKH.

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I am MOHD ALI SHABBIR, from LADAKH in India. I am currently pursuing my post graduate studies in international politics in Russia and Central Asia from Jawaharlal Nehru University, one of the prestigious institutions in INDIA.