Tamas
Tamas
I don't remember the exact date, but there were Hindu-Muslim riots near Bhiwandi Nagar, close to Mumbai. However, I remember that after those riots, I started writing 'Tamas' (Darkness).
Bhiwandi Nagar was a city of weavers, and pits were scattered throughout the city. Many of these pits were powered by electricity. However, due to the fear of fire, the metal in the pits had melted. As I walked through the streets, it felt as if I was wandering through the ruins of an ancient city.
But as I walked through the streets, I started to feel the familiar sound of my footsteps, my rhythm, as if I had heard this sound before. I even listened to the silence around me. I had experienced the intensity of this silence. I had walked through empty streets.
But I had not experienced this silence and desolation before. I had also seen vultures and eagles sitting on trees. I had seen the flames flickering in the sky, heard the footsteps racing on the streets, the shouts that made your hair stand on end, and the slogans shouted by the blind followers of religion from different places. I had heard the cries. After staying in Mumbai for a few days, I returned to Delhi.
Usually, I used to sit down to write in the evenings. I felt like writing in the evenings, for some unknown reason. But that day, after having breakfast, I sat down at the table in the morning. It happened suddenly, but when I picked up the pen and placed the paper in front of me, my thoughts shifted toward the riots in Rawalpindi. The Congress office came into my mind. The faces of my Congress comrades, one after the other, like Yogi Ramnath, Bakhshiji, Baliji, Hakimji, Abdul Aziz, Meharchand Ahuja, Aziz, Jarnail... Master Arjundas... their faces started revolving before my eyes. I kept sinking into those memories.
- Bhisham Sahni (from his autobiography 'Today's Pasts')
I don't remember the exact date, but there were Hindu-Muslim riots near Bhiwandi Nagar, close to Mumbai. However, I remember that after those riots, I started writing 'Tamas' (Darkness).
Bhiwandi Nagar was a city of weavers, and pits were scattered throughout the city. Many of these pits were powered by electricity. However, due to the fear of fire, the metal in the pits had melted. As I walked through the streets, it felt as if I was wandering through the ruins of an ancient city.
But as I walked through the streets, I started to feel the familiar sound of my footsteps, my rhythm, as if I had heard this sound before. I even listened to the silence around me. I had experienced the intensity of this silence. I had walked through empty streets.
But I had not experienced this silence and desolation before. I had also seen vultures and eagles sitting on trees. I had seen the flames flickering in the sky, heard the footsteps racing on the streets, the shouts that made your hair stand on end, and the slogans shouted by the blind followers of religion from different places. I had heard the cries. After staying in Mumbai for a few days, I returned to Delhi.
Usually, I used to sit down to write in the evenings. I felt like writing in the evenings, for some unknown reason. But that day, after having breakfast, I sat down at the table in the morning. It happened suddenly, but when I picked up the pen and placed the paper in front of me, my thoughts shifted toward the riots in Rawalpindi. The Congress office came into my mind. The faces of my Congress comrades, one after the other, like Yogi Ramnath, Bakhshiji, Baliji, Hakimji, Abdul Aziz, Meharchand Ahuja, Aziz, Jarnail... Master Arjundas... their faces started revolving before my eyes. I kept sinking into those memories.
- Bhisham Sahni (from his autobiography 'Today's Pasts')
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