The English translation of a novel ‘Maharaja Dahir’ authored by Kolkata-based renowned novelist Debasree Chakraborti in Bengali language. The novel has been translated by Rajesh Giri
Dr. Iqbal looks back and found that Surya Devi embracing the idol of Nandi staring at the floor. Dr. Iqbal also looked at the floor where he was standing, and saw that Nandi’s body was drawn under it.
Dr. Iqbal said, “Sabir bhai everything in Hinduism is very symbolic, Nandi’s body is still visible on the floor. You can see very carefully that Nandi is painted on a huge square stone on the floor. Over the entire floor, this stone dominates its own existence. Come with me out of this door and stand in the sanctum.”
Sabir bhai came to the sanctum sanctorum. After that on one side of Shivlinga Dr. Iqbal held Nandi’s (Oxen/Bull) head by both of his hands and said, “Nandi is a symbol of waiting. The wait for Nandi of Rohri village is over.” Saying this, as he turned Nandi’s head to the right, there was a rumbling sound in the secret room. Dr. Iqbal and Sabir bhai came to that door and saw that the square stone in the middle had moved and a staircase had appeared. Dr. Iqbal through this ladder comes down and Sabir bhai is walking behind him. The lower room is very narrow, down the stairs there is something wrapped in a red cloth in a closet in the front wall. Dr. Iqbal went and picked up the thing wrapped in red cloth and open the cloth and asked Sabir bhai to focus the mobile torch light on it. Sabir bhai did so. Dr. Iqbal found a large white cloth folded inside the red one, the white cloth folded and tied with a golden cord, on the cloth it was written ‘Kikan 662 to 680’. Dr. Iqbal looked at Sabir and said, “Bhai, I have got the treasure, now let’s go.”
Such a big event did not have any impact on Sabir’s mind, as if a terrible dark cloud had accumulated on his face.
Dr. Iqbal tried to normalize the situation, he said “I noticed the gap between Nandi’s head and body as soon as I entered the temple. Usually Nandi is made by curving a single stone. But in this case it did not happen. My grandfather says there is no other worshiper like Nandi, he is still waiting for Mahadev…”
Iqbal noticed that he alone was talking, as there was no response from Sabir bhai. Iqbal did not expect Sabir bhai who talks so much like this. But the history of Kikan is now in his hands, what a great success in the path of Mission Maharaja Dahirsen. He turned back and looked at the temple for the last time and saw that the temple had come alive, with Surya Devi standing in the middle of the five banyan canopy. The desert blow and dust gradually made the picture blur.
Dr. Iqbal found a large white cloth folded inside the red one, the white cloth folded and tied with a golden cord, on the cloth it was written ‘Kikan 662 to 680’. Dr. Iqbal looked at Sabir and said, “Bhai, I have got the treasure, now let’s go.”
Just as they were driving back from the Shiv Mandir, Sabir bhai turned his head towards a huge dilapidated haveli on the right side of the road, then heaved a sigh and started driving again. Dr. Iqbal saw that Ram Nibas was inscribed on the house. That day they returned to their residence from Rohri village. Even after returning home Sabir bhai was very upset and sits on the sofa with his hands on his head. Dr. Iqbal comes and sits on the sofa next to him and says, “Sabir bhai a spy can’t be so emotional, all your emotions will be only for the country, but everything else is nothing but a ladder to reach your goal.”
Sabir bhai removed his hand from his head and said, “It is not possible to isolate yourself from everything, every person has a terrible chapter in his life, the places or people connected with that chapter will affect that person’s life.”
Dr. Iqbal bent his head towards Sabir bhai and said, “Bhai, we are each other’s companions on this path of life, when one partner shares about his/her grief, the burden of the mind is reduced a lot. If you don’t mind, you can feel free to tell me about your troubles.”
At that moment load shedding happened. Load shedding occurred in large areas of Sindh province around midday and continued for about twelve hours. The window shutters are down because of the fire blow outside. So the room is quite dark now. Sabir bhai covering his face with both hands starts crying. Dr. Iqbal sat next to him and put his hand on his back and said, “Open your heart and cry, crying works like medicine in human life. I saw my grandfather crying like this while talking about his ancestral house and his sisters. I understand this terrible pain. A glass of water was kept covered on the table, Sabir bhai drank the water and started breathing loudly:
“My grandpa Ramprasad Gopalani was a famous businessman of Rohri village. He had zamindari over a vast area of this village. The people of this region famously know him by his name. My father was his only son and he had two sisters. When Pakistan emerged as a new state on August 14, 1947, my father was of eight years. He didn’t know what partition was then. When the Pakistan Zindabad procession came out on the road in front of our Ram Niwas, my father and his cousin’s sons also came out in that procession. It was still very quiet around, our family thought they could stay in this country very safely. Because even though the country was divided on the basis of religion, the country’s leaders said that if anyone did not want to leave the country, then they could live safely in their own country. But one night my Thakurda’s friend Mohammad Ali came and said that the attack on Hindus is about to start, so Thakurda should take shelter in Mohammad Ali’s house with his family; they will come back to their own house when the situation improves. At that time, my grandmother had one lakh rupees in cash and 1500 gm of gold ornaments. Grandfather’s elder brother and sister in law and their two sons lived with them in this same house. That night our family took refuge in Muhammad Ali’s house with their accumulated wealth. They stayed there for three days. I heard from my father that the agony of helpless people was coming from all around. Our family was extremely safe while the genocide was going on for three days. After three days Muhammad Ali came and told my father that after some time Maulvi saheb will come and we have to accept Islam. He also informed that there is no way for us to escape, as local Muslims are keeping watch over this house. In fact, they deliberately trapped a prominent person like my grandpa and his family; if they could convert my grandpa’s family, it was equivalent to Mohammad Bin Qasim’s conquest of Sindh. My grandmother agreed to their offer to protect the family. On one side the beef was being cooked and on the other side Maulavi saheb came and first converted the elder brother of my grandfather to Islam. When his private part was circumcised, he cried a lot, this cry signifies the enormous pain of losing one’s existence. Then his eldest son was made to read Kalema; at that time some soldiers came there. At that time people were very afraid of soldiers. Seeing the soldiers, everyone ran away. The soldiers came and asked what was happening there. They rescued our family and took us to the camp. While going to the camp, Mohammad Ali told my grandpa that it is not very safe to carry all the wealth to these camps, so he would keep grandpa’s deposited wealth with himself and would return it to him at the right time. There was no complexity among the people of Sindh at that time. My grandfather took her family to the camp keeping trust on his friend again. The next day Muhammad Ali came to the camp on horseback and delivered some rations to my grandfather, saying that he would not return the deposited money, as he had saved our family in exchange for this money. That day from the camp we left for Lahore by truck. The truck in front of ours was attacked first. I heard from my father that there was a railway line in front, on which innocent people started to be cut. A group of volunteers from India came to this country to rescue people like us. They rescued us and took us to a camp. From that camp, my family boarded a train bound for Amritsar and left for India. When this train reached Gujranwala station, Baloch army stopped our train there. I heard from my father that when the train stopped at the station, a group of people started gathering there. The Baloch army boarded the train and told the passengers that they could not go to India with weapons. So whoever has weapons should be handed over to them. At that time there was not so much complexity among people and common people were very afraid of soldiers. They handed over all their weapons to the Baloch soldiers. Phew!! What a stupid thing to do, I still can’t sleep at night thinking about this moment. Iqbal please bring me some water, I am drying.”
A group of miscreants boarded the train that day, first took all the girls from the train, and then started looting. The passengers of the train yelled, ‘take everything you want but don’t kill us.’ When the loot was done they begin slaughtering.
Dr. Iqbal brought him water. He drank water, clenching his fists he bent his face keeping eyes on the floor and began to speak again.
“On that day, Baloch army came down to the station and announced that the train passengers were all disarmed, and now they could be attacked. A group of miscreants boarded the train that day, first took all the girls from the train, and then started looting. The passengers of the train yelled, ‘take everything you want but don’t kill us.’ When the loot was done they begin slaughtering. Just as sugarcane sticks are cut in the field, they start to slice us. Right before my father’s eyes, his entire family was slaughtered; my father was embraced by his uncle in his chest. When he was chopped down, some of the fury of the sword fell on my father also; those scars he carried for rest of his life on his body. At that time a team of Rashtriya Swayam Sevak Sangh reached there and they fought to rescue the passengers of the train and admitted them to the local hospital. In that hospital too, many wounded were poisoned. My father’s maternal uncle was the SP of Ambala at that time. He reached that hospital while searching for our family and rescued my father. My father was the only member of his family who could risk his life to come to independent India alive. Much search was made for my father’s two sisters, but no trace of them was found.”
“Dr. Iqbal, my real name is Nomesh Gopalani. I do this job so that what happened to my family does not happen to anyone else’s family. A new state called Pakistan was created for the benefit of Muslim landlords in India. They are the one who are making this country Hindu-less by provoking the common Muslims. The Lahore Resolution of 1940 called for the creation of a separate state from the Muslim-dominated areas of the northeast region of India.
There was no mention of a separate state or the term Pakistan. For this reason Sir GM Syed, the pioneer of our Sindhu Desh movement, agreed to the Lahore proposal. But in 1947 he realized how great injustice had been done to us. Today the lease-holders who occupy the vast territory of Sindh are all Muslim zamindars from India. Who bought these zamindaris by huge sums of money? Day after day they are exploiting the innocent people of Pakistan, they have their own prisons, where they imprison local people at will. Power generated from Sindh is supplied to Punjab, and Sindh province remains without power for eleven to twelve hours a day. Muslim refugees from all over the world are being brought here, so that they can be used to make Sindh province Hindu-free. Our task is to make Sindh an independent state.
To liberate Mother Sindhu from the shackles of subjugation which were tied on her hands and feet during the time of Maharaja Dahir. This is why Mother Sindhu has chosen some children like us. Iqbal, Mother Sindhu, an integral part of Mother India, from whose womb this great civilization was born, would be a hero’s sacrifice if one had to sacrifice one’s life to save it.”
Dr. Iqbal remembered his own grandfather. Feeling that same pain brought tears to his eyes.
The same pain that the family of Nomesh Gopalani aka Sabir bhai had to feel, their family also felt the same. Pakistan continued this same policy on Bangladesh; even today the terrible plot to de-Hinduize the independent Bangladesh is going on. Here the atrocious histories of many families like Maharaja Dahir, Panchjanya Sen and Nomesh Gopalani were written with the same pen, will be repeated this tainted chapter of human civilization until the pen was broken. Dr. Iqbal held Sabir bhai’s hand tightly and said, “Sabir bhai operation Dahirsen is on its way to make a history, stay calm and composed!!” (Continues)
Click here for Part-I , Part-II, Part-III , Part-IV , Part-V , Part-VI , Part-VII, Part-VIII , Part-IX , Part-X, Part-XI, Part-XII, Part-XIII , Part-XIV , Part-XV , Part-XVI, Part-XVII, Part-XVIII , Part-XIX, Part-XX, Part-XXI , Part-XXII, Part-XXIII
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Debasree Chakraborti is a renowned novel writer of Bengali language. Based in Kolkata, West Bengal, India, she has done Master’s in Modern History from the Kolkata University, and authored some thirty books, mostly the novels, with historical perspective and themes. Her most recent novel is ‘Maharaja Dahir’ that covers the history of Sindh from 662, the year of first attack on Sindh by the Arab armies till date.
Rajesh Giri, born in Kolkata, had his early schooling from Kolkata and then from Medinipur—a village in Bengal. He graduated from Calcutta University with Physics and Maths and Master’s from Burdwan University in 2016. Now he is associated with Adhdhyaan educational institution teaching Physics. History enthusiastic Rajesh Giri is particularly interested in the ancient civilization of India and other regions like Egypt, Mesopotamia, and North America. He loves traveling.
