RESONANCE (27 page)

With two nuclear weapons in hand, al Qaeda becomes a stronger force to reckon with. Just imagine, even though India is a regional power, it cannot retaliate against us after Kargil War and the Mumbai attacks, because of the nuclear deterrent that we wield. The same nuclear bombs would have boomeranged on us. They would have become an albatross around our necks and we would have been forced down on our knees in front of the al Qaeda because of the threat they posed to us. We would have been forced to give in to their demands. On the face of it, I would have resigned, perhaps on 'medical grounds' while you would have given way to a more 'efficient', 'younger' colleague of yours. Similarly, men in top positions would have had to bow down, surrendering their positions to different sympathizers of the al Qaeda. Pakistan would then have had a dummy government and our hapless citizens would not have the slightest inkling of the lightning bolt that had struck them. Afghanistan would have been under the direct rule of al Qaeda while the world watched helplessly."

"Oh! Doomsday!"The Army General turned to the Prime Minister. "We need to trace the two nukes immediately."

The Prime Minister nodded.

The Army General contacted the Vice Chief of the Army and ordered him to immediately cordon off the walled city part of Lahore and start a door-to-door search operation. An entire brigade of the army was put in charge to search for the capsule in Waziristan.

After the order, the Army General turned to the Prime Minister, "Can I seek one last clarification?"

"My pleasure."

"How did you know that this fake film was to be broadcast?"

"Pakistan will always be obliged to Imran Shah Malik and his brother. His brother gave us the initial lead and Imran Shah Malik sent us a few details of Tupac-II."

"But Mr. Malik is dead."

"That is what I too thought until a few hours ago. He is a man of mettle and has survived many battles. He is very much alive and ticking under the new name of Shalim Amār Khan, which, if you look closely, is the name Imran Shah Malik, rearranged."

"Where is he?"

"When he gave me the details of Tupac-II, I asked him where he was. To this he replied, 'Tehri' and hung up."

"What is he doing there?"

"Allah knows."

Oscillation

Everything was now
quiet on the Tehri Dam. There was neither any further explosion from the diversion tunnel nor any massive landslide from the faraway hills. But it was only the lull before the storm.

The massive wave created from the earlier explosion hammered the wall of the dam and turned back to the far end. On its way, it broke the inlet gate of one of the penstocks of the hydroelectric plant. Water rushed inside with tremendous velocity and pressurized the surge tank, which threatened to burst any moment.

The emergency siren went off inside the machine room, resulting in chaos and panic all around. The control room Manager asked his deputy to check the extent of damage at the inlet gate. The Deputy came into the machine room. He ran back to inform the Manager that the machine area had flooded.

In a few minutes, the frequency of the oscillating waves synchronized with the frequency of the dam. The unique hollow structure in the dam echoed with a groaning, humming sound, magnifying with each passing second. The occasional rumbling beneath the bottom of the dam sounded as if some fearful giant of the netherworld was angry because he had been rudely awakened from his long slumber.

This unusual voice from the deep was caught by the teleseismometers, the modern seismograph instrument and the accelerograph and fed as data to the control room. Ironically, there was no one to take note of this frightening bar on the monitor, which had already entered the red zone since the Manager of Operations had ordered evacuation of the Hydel Station.

"Go back, Aban."Imran Malik shouted, torn between an overwhelming desire to run and hug his son in his arms and push him out of the way of the horrifying danger that he faced.

"I won't,
Abba
."

"Don't come any further. It's too dangerous."

Aban reached his father. Between laboured breaths, he said, "What on earth are you doing,
Abba
? Try to understand the consequences of your actions. The magnitude of the disaster would be beyond anybody's comprehension. Not only millions, but billions of precious lives will be lost."

"Let doomed and damned be their destiny."

"No, Abba, no. Why do we forget that we are one? Our culture has evolved from the same roots. Our way of living has not changed for centuries. It is the pain of partition that has parted our hearts. Just like two brothers fall out over trifling issues and keep drifting further and further apart from each other, so have we. All this because neither is willing to forgive and forget. Yet, we are one and for generations to come are sure to tide over these differences because each of us is now tired of fighting futile wars, which simply create pain and more pain on both sides. Our destinies are intertwined. If they die, we die too."

"It pains, my son. It is always painful. Pain has left a scar on me, which no one can remove, not even I, even if I want to. It is unbearable. I cannot overcome it."

"What scar,
Abba
? What pain are you talking about?"A perplexed Aban asked his father, who seemed to wear a strange glint in his eyes.

"This may be the last time that we meet. So, I will tell you the whole story. The wave will not return for the next forty minutes. I have ample time to tell you. I know your
Ammi
must have told you the story of the 1971 War between Pakistan and
Hindustān
and the trauma I faced when the
Hindustāni
Army captured me and sent me to Alipore Central Jail as a POW. One day, I got into a long discussion with the Jailor to grant us the rights of a POW as per the Geneva Convention. The jailor was a kind man. He listened compassionately and promised to do his best. Unfortunately, he was transferred from the jail. A few months later, with the cessation of the war, the
Hindustāni
Government decided to return the POWs to Pakistan as per the Simla agreement. I was a proud solider, who wanted to go back to my country and serve my Army once again."

The story continued:

"However, someone, who was up to mischief, removed my name from the Jail roll. After that, my name or prisoner-number was never called out during the attendance roll call by the jail authorities. When I became suspicious and asked the administrators for a reason, they would just get away with a promise to rectify the mistake. Days turned into months and I waited and waited. One day,
Hindustāni
Army trucks arrived to take back the POWs to Pakistan. I offered
Namaz
, thanking Allah for giving me a reason to live. I smoothed out the crease on my jail uniform, so that I could look as presentable as possible when I returned to my
watan
after such a long time. The minutes went ticking by as I waited expectantly, but no one called my name or came to open my cell. When I heard the last truck labour its way out, away from the Jail, I knew they were not coming back ever."

Aban's father heaved as he continued:

"That same night, another vehicle came. Before I could understand what was happening, four people bound and gagged me and bundled me off into the van. Sleep overcame me. I woke up when somebody opened the backdoor of the van. I had been handed over to the extremists of Bangladesh. These merciless savages took me into the deep forest of Rangamati, the eastern part of Bangladesh. They tortured me for four long years, asking me to give them sensitive details of Pakistani Army and intelligence. I never uttered a word against my country. My answer to their every question was that
Hindustān
had cut my country into two."

Aban listened intently to his father's words:

"One dark night, six people came and tied my hands and wrists. They threw me on the ground. One of them took out a knife from his pocket while another pulled off my trouser and undergarments. The former laughed and said since you had only one answer that
Hindustān
has cut your country into two parts, today I'll cut you into two parts. I closed my eyes, praying to Allah to forgive my sins. I was not scared of dying. But I could not bear the pain when he cut off one of my testicles and the last thing that I heard before fainting was a cruel laughter."

Aban was shell-shocked. He came closer to his father, hugged him and put his arms around his shoulder. Tears welled up in Imran's eyes while he continued, "People talked with a lot of interest about an almost forgotten historical fact about Adolf Hitler. A Soviet doctor, who performed an autopsy on Hitler, revealed many years later that Hitler suffered from monorchism, the medical condition of having only one testicle. His photographs bear testimony to the fact that whenever he participated in the rallies and his marching army shouted '
Heil';
Hitler would snap into attention and raise one arm to take the stiff armed salute. But his other hand would unconsciously slip down to his crotch, as though he was trying to hide something. This posture of his became the butt of ridicule, but it is only people like me, who can understand the agony that such a deformity can cause. If a man like Hitler, who considered himself to be powerful enough to conquer the world, was plagued by a sense of inadequacy because of this physical condition, think of what it can do to us."

Aban wiped tears from his father's eyes while father continued, "When I escaped from their captivity, I came back to Pakistan, but never told anyone about what had happened to me. I was still haunted by nightmares and the sinister laugh of the man, who had severed me into two. Before coming home, I went to the Army Hospital where an adept surgeon reconstructed me. However, the scars of those days ran too deep. Even today, when I'm very tense or under extreme pressure, my hands begin to tremble and I start scratching my thighs vigorously. I tried to overcome this habit. I tied my hand and even bit it to cure myself, but failed. This is my pain; I'm destined to bear it forever."When Imran lifted his head, he could hear sounds of Aban's weeping. He gently stroked his son's head and pulled Aban closer to his chest.

The Assistant Commandant from the far side of the mountain saw two Jihadists, holding Siddhartha Rana. He took aim and both men dropped dead on either side of Siddhartha. His commandos ran from the mountainside towards the dam while Siddhartha walked from the other end.

Imran Shah Malik pulled out his pistol and pointed it at Siddhartha. His hands trembled.

"No,
Abba
. Don't do it. Siddhartha saved my life."Aban pleaded.

Siddhartha reached father and son. "Give me your remote. Abort the sequence, Mr. Malik."

"I'm sorry, gentlemen. No one can stop it now. Once it is set in motion, even I can't do anything. I tried to reason with your government, but they were not ready to even consider my demand. I was left with no other option, but to initiate the sequence."

"I know your demand. You'll never have Kashmir the way you want it."

"I never wanted Kashmir. I'll hate my government if they ask Kashmir to merge with Pakistan against the Kashmiris' free will. I do not approve of the historical mistake that my Government made when it occupied a part of Kashmir. Do you want to know what I want?"After a small pause, Imran Shah Malik said under his breath, "I want the Kashmiris to decide their destiny."

"No,
Abba
. You don't want that. You want to cut India into two parts, the same way it happened to Pakistan in 1971,"Aban interjected. "You want to split India, the same way those people cut you into two parts."

"No questions!"The father turned to his son.

Siddhartha was looking for the opportunity. He jumped and pushed Imran Shah Malik, who fell down. He snatched the remote from his hand, trying to locate any abort sequence.

"I've lived long, dear boy. Sixty-six years has been a long time to live and fifty years is enough to serve one's country. However, I have only one regret. There wasn't enough time to serve Allah. Take my life. Living anymore will be a waste, since I now seek nearness to Allah. I want to serve Him only. But trust me, you cannot stop the inevitable with this unworthy remote. It's not even a child's toy now."

The wave came back and hammered the wall of the dam once again. The explosives inside the four diversion tunnels exploded simultaneously. The rumbling sound of the bottom of the dam faded due to the booming sound of the surging waves. The massive dam looked small in comparison to the oscillation set in the lake when the resonance of the canyon matched with the resonance of the dam and synchronized with the wave. The tremendous upsurge grew and grew while the earth beneath the lake seemed to split into several parts.

"Now no one can save
Hindustān
, my son,"The father's palm opened up.

"Oh my God! Try to understand,
Abba
. You are not going to split India into two parts with your plan. In fact, you are going to rip open the entire sub-continent including Pakistan. The geological forces that have built the deep gorges and high peaks of the Himalayas, will lead to a catastrophe beyond imagination. You don't know what you have set in motion today. None of your engineers programmed a simulation that incorporated a very important aspect."

"Nothing will happen to Pakistan, my son. Everyone knows our country's name is Pakistan. Pak means '
pure
'. So, the land of the pure cannot be destroyed by Allah."

"It is you who will make all this happen."

"Sorry, my son. Nature is beyond the comprehension of man. Man cannot bring a catastrophe."

"I agree. But remember even innocuous activities of man like constructing large dams, drilling and injecting liquid chemicals into wells and coal mines and even drilling ocean beds for oil has brought about untold devastation. Dams are known to fluctuate the pressure on fault lines and accelerate the movement of the faults. A massive earthquake and underground eruption spawned from a fault in Newcastle that was activated when miners dislodged million of tons of rocks."

"Today is not a day of minor magic tricks like building a dam or digging up the earth. Today will be a day of the greatest water show man has witnessed till date."Imran Shah Malik said cryptically.

"The earthquakes of Alaska, Chile, Indonesia, China will go down as footnotes in geological history. Vegetation like the Ghost Forest of the Western American Coast will replace our lush greenery. The rupture of Cascadia will shrink to a minor event compared to the catastrophe you are going to cause. Thunderbirds and giant whales will shake up the earth to its very roots. Water and earth will join hands in a dance of destruction"

"I know these geological myths and mythological truths."

"Trust me. Today, this show will be the last show, Abba for anyone to watch. Tomorrow, no one will survive to see anything similar."Aban looked worried, "Let me show you."Aban pushed the power button of his MacBook, and continued, "Did anybody bring to your notice that the dam is situated right over the eight-hundred mile long fault knows as the Central Himalayan Seismic Gap? This gap has not released its strain in the form of an earthquake for more than seven hundred years. If I'm not mistaken, this gap released a very miniscule amount of energy in the year 1255 AD in a very limited zone of Nepal. That small energy leak killed more than hundred thousand people in Nepal, including Abahya Malla, the king of Nepal. That was a very local phenomenon, where an insignificant amount of energy brought about a devastating upheaval."