“Not today, Madam ji,” the hotel security explained. “You cannot go out of the premises today. There is curfew.”
He was explaining the situation to a family of six that was part of
a larger tour group. This family had come down early to breakfast buffet on the
ground floor of our hotel in Jammu. I had also been hoping to go for an early
morning walk along the river but had been asked to stay indoors. I was ok
with it and secretly was happy that my outdoors workout was cancelled. It had
snowed all night and a crystal white blanket had covered the river, the boats
and the city. I could see the wonderful panorama from my window seat at the
restaurant. It was not the right moment to go up to the buffet spread and fill
up a plate. Nature had done its magic over Jammu and it was better to sit
silent and watch.
A lady in a bright red sweater was protesting in a shrill voice. “But
it is our first snow. I have never seen or walked in snow. Our children are so
excited. We are wearing the proper woollens and we have also worn thermals. We
want to go out and jump and move around in the snow and we promise, we will be
back in time for breakfast.”
The hotel security was quite dignified and patient. The hotel
management or colleagues had not come to his support. They did not need to. He
was about six feet and half in height, he looked like. His uniform was a
glorious hotchpotch of several regimental colors. He had a tremendous moustache
that curved all over his cheeks and went to rest below his ears. His gloves
made him look very different from a regimental army officer. They gave him away
as a security chap rather than an armywallah.
He stood straight, respectfully blocking the doorway, his palms crossed.
“No Madam ji. Again, you cannot go outdoors today. All movement out
of the hotel is prohibited for today. There is curfew declared since midnight
and we do not know when it will be lifted. Please watch the snow from your
room.”
The red sweater lady was very upset. She walked around near the
security man, clomping her shoes on the wooden floor, creating tremendous noise
that echoed all over the ground floor. Her husband came up and guided her to
sit at the nearest sofa. He asked her about the situation and anger and moved
his hands in consolation and seemed to assure her that he would take care of
the matter. He had on a matching red sweater, oversized, perhaps to make space
for two thermal inners. Their children were seated glumly at the other chairs,
nearer to their mother. The father, the extra-large red sweater, came up to the
security man and pleaded. He kept turning around and pointing at the lady.
He had had no impact on the security man. He had not moved from his
position. He had quite a rather loud booming voice and it made up for all the
stuff that we could not hear clearly from the extra-large red sweater man.
“Sirji, it is not about the snow. You cannot go out, your family
cannot go out, nobody from the hotel can go out. There is curfew and the police
have a checkpost outside, near to the hotel. They will shoot and kill you
immediately.”
I had completed my breakfast and this looked like the only thing
happening right now. So I went up to sit at a couch that was nearer to the
security guy. He looked at me, professionally, assessing my threat factor. I picked
up a newspaper and opened it up very obviously, to convey that I was harmless.
Not a threat. Not a threat to the situation.
The red sweater man had discussed the matter with the red sweater
lady and returned to the security guy. She had not given up on her insistence
that about going out and jumping about in the snow. This was getting better and
better.
“See, you do not know my Pakru-ki-maa. Once she is wanting to do
something, once she is wanted to purchase something, she does it. Complete. You
must be married, I think. You must be understanding my problem, No? She is
wanting to go out and jumping in snow with her children and with others from
the group. We have come from Mumbai and we have never seen the snow and never
walked in it. We are here only for two days more and we have to return. The
snow may go away as water into the river tonight and tomorrow there may be no
snow. Allow us, No?”
The security guy did not flinch. “If you go outside, you will be
shot. This is Jammu. This is not Mumbai. Today is curfew and they will not give
warning. First shot will be low. It will hit your legs. Second shot will be
higher.”
The red sweater man was persistent. I will grant him that. “Nobody
shoots without warning. Before the police know that we are outside, we will
jump one two three times, run from hotel entrance to the river wall and return.
The police will never know. We will go quietly and we will return immediately. You
do not worry about the police. I will be outside with the family and the tour
group. I will speak to the police if they shout at us. I will convince them,
No?”
The security guy stood silent. He did not reply. He had given up
convincing the two red sweaters, I realised. What now? At that very moment, the
outer doors of the entrance opened and a police officer accompanied by two lady
constables, armed and in camo dress and with large khaki overcoats, entered. The
security guy saluted. The lady constables went to the rest room in the lobby
while the police officer waited. This would be interesting, I thought.
As I thought, the red sweater man came up to the police officer. “Sir
ji, I have a request. This security man is not allowing us to go out. It is
curfew, he says. He is adamant. We are all from Mumbai and we have come to
enjoy Jammu and the river. We want to go and play in the snow and walk
around. This is the first snow that we have seen. We will just go from the
entrance to the river compound wall across the street and we will return immediately.
We have to return in two days and the entire tour group may not get a chance
like this once again. Please, Sir, No?”
The police officer was absolutely taken aback. He stepped away from
the red sweater man and looked at the tall security guy and his dysfunctional and
yet glorious regimental uniform. “Who are these people? Have you actually
informed them about a curfew and what it means here in Jammu? Anyone can shoot
at them, the police or militants.”
“I know, Saheb. I told them repeatedly. He says that his wife is
adamant and so he is helpless. He was actually wanting to come out and talk
with your senior officer and ask for permission for the group to be out in the
snow.”
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