Book Excerpt: 'Before I Forget' By M.K. Raina

Again, things were not normal in the Valley. The situation was deteriorating, and again one did not know how it would all happen. One morning, Jisha Menon arrived and the three of us left for Srinagar. I had never met Jisha before, but we got along very well instantly. Luckily, on our day of arrival Srinagar was not closed, so we immediately headed for Akingam in a taxi.

This time we stayed at the Kukarnaag Dak Bungalow, in one of the most beautiful locations in the Valley, surrounded by a dense, protected pine forest and fresh mineral water streams. This Dak Bungalow was a modest space, just functional with a single caretaker.

The next two days we had planned for Jisha to watch Badshah Pather and some other old pather. The rest of the time involved discussions with the Bhands and me. While she made her notes, Anant had grown intrigued with the performances and the Bhands. He spent many hours with the young Bhands. What they talked to each other about I have no idea, but he grew interested in the theatre form and the lives of these Bhand performers and was always clicking pictures of them with his camera. Before we left Akingam, he told me that he wanted to make a documentary on this whole project of Badshah Pather. He had formed his own relationship with the Bhands. Jisha had made detailed notes for her research work. After three days, we all left for Srinagar to take our flight to Delhi. In Srinagar, we checked into a hotel for the night in Raj Bagh.

That night the separatists gave a call for a complete shutdown. Jisha was horribly tense and worried and refused to come out of the hotel premises. She had left her small son in Bangalore with her parents and did not want to take any chances. I wanted her to visit at least Dal Lake and the Mughal Gardens, safe areas to move around in, but she refused to, even after my assurances that she would be safe. She was only waiting for the next morning to leave Kashmir and head for Bangalore to be with her son. It was a strange fear and panic that had gripped her.

We had our dinner at the hotel itself. I narrated many stories to her, which she enjoyed, laughing. She suddenly asked me, ‘M.K., how can you keep your sense of humour so alive when there is so much suffering happening all around? This killing, shooting, violence . . .’

I paused for some seconds before replying, ‘You know, Jisha, nobody has ever asked me this question. I am a Kashmiri. We have an in-built sense of humour even in the worst conditions, and that is the only thing that keeps me going here. Otherwise, it is always morbid, tension-filled with fear of death or violence.’

We boarded the morning flight, reached Delhi and saw her off on her flight to be with her son. Later, I received a book written by her, The Performance of Nationalism. And after two long years, Anant completed his documentary, Badshah Lear.

(Excerpted from M.K. Raina’s 'Before I Forget' from Penguin Random House India)