The Survivor of Michni Post

The Following is a Column by Mustansar Hussain Tarar which appeared in DAWN issue of 23 May 2004. A very intresting column to read. 

A PICK-up, fully loaded with the local security forces i.e. Khasadars, sped through the maze of Khyber Pass escorting us to the Pak-Afghan border at Torkham. And with them, our car, engulfed in the dust raised by the speeding pick-up, tried its best to keep up with our escort. Their guns, instead of scanning the tribal hills speeding by, pointed at us, the possible victims of a possible abduction by the tribesmen.

The Khasadars are recruited from the tribes Khyber and understandably are always trigger-happy. They have been trigger-happy for thousands of years, although before the invention of trigger they were sword-happy or something.

Whenever I looked in front of me, they were glaring at me with their guns ready to shoot. Naturally this gave me no comfort. Before venturing into this historical trip, I had objected meekly to a fully loaded escort. But my host Dr Jamil said solemnly “Tarar sahib these Khasadars are especially deputed by the Tehsildar of Khyber Agency for your safety and this is our way to honour a guest. Besides, in the tribal territories one can never be too careful. For a known person like you there is a reasonable chance of being abducted.”

For the first time in my life I realized that I was important enough to be abducted and the realization inflated my ego considerably. However, much to my disappointment at the end of the day nothing of the sort happened, although at times I exhibited my presence openly. I grinned at the tribesmen so that they may recognize me and at least show a little bit of interest in abducting me. But no one bothered. What rotten luck!

“How much ransom would you be willing to pay if I am abducted?” I asked my wife who was accompanying me.

“Whatever they demand my love.” I was vastly moved by her matrimonial commitment. “Only if they promise not to return you,” she added. Who says true love is hard to come by these days.

Peshawar is one city that finds a special place near my heart, right next to Lahore. For me its charms include, leaving aside its haphazard traffic (dirt and guns are innumerable) its Kasera Bazaar near the gem of Habit Khan Mosque. I have spent many a delightful hours in its dingy and dark shops looking for antiques and Gandhara pieces.

The Shinwari Tikka, Lamb Karahi and all sorts of grilled meat at the famous Namak Mandi are stuff of the gourmet dream. Only the Pathan knows the art of cooking meat because besides religion he is a fanatic as far as love of eating meat is concerned. One can, and it is from personal experience that I say, consume more that kilo of Shinwari Tikka followed by the magical herbal Qehwa without any aftereffects. And after only three hours, one is ready to consume more. However, the preference this time would be Chappal Kebabs and fish of Bakhshu.

The architectural amazement of Sethi Molalla’s Havelis is unique in the subcontinent. Beside these charms Peshawar has produced a horde of actors who became a legend in their life times.

What with the dozens of Kapoors whose vast population even now dominates the Mumbai film world, it was the inimitable Prithivi Raj who started it all without ever giving a second thought to population planning.

The great Dilip Kumar and his talented brothers including Nasser Khan who was the hero of the first Pakistani film ever made. And there is the present heartthrob Shahrukh Khan. Lets not forget the inimitable Gubbar Singh of Sholay? Amjad Khan’s father Jaint, was also a unique film actor.

Another great from this area was Gul Hamid the most famous hero of Agha Hasher’s stage plays. However, lets not forget our own TV great Mohammad Qavi Khan, Ajab Gul, Khayyam Sarhadi, son of Zia Sarhadi of Hum Log fame. Most of them are not Pathan in the strict sense of the word.

For instance Prithivi Raj Kapoor, although his haveli still exists in Peshawar where he produced most of the Kapoors, was basically a Punjabi from a small village near the present Faisalabad. Even today, their household clings to Punjabi and Hindko language. And the same goes for Dilip Kumar and brothers, and Shahrukh Khan, they are Hindko speaking.

It is this magic of the ‘Khans’ from Peshawar, that in Bollywood, the new heroes from Tamil Naidu also add a ‘Khan’ to their first name. A few years back a prominent Indian film producer came to Lahore to hunt for new scripts and when confronted with this question as to why every new comer in Bollywood prefers to be a ‘Khan’ he explained:

“Whenever we produce a film with an entirely new cast the first question a distributor asks, ‘Baba where are these new birds from?’, and if we tell them that the new hero is a ‘Khan’ and the heroine is from Punjab, our film is sold right away because in Bollywood the charm of ‘Khans’ and the beauty of Punjab is legendary.”

My apologies, I almost forgot to mention and what a great crime it would have been, the most unforgettable beauty unsurpassed so far; Madhubala was also a Peshawarite.

Peshawar has a very chilling dramatic sense of humour of its own. Some years back I was invited to preside a literary function at Peshawar University. As soon as I was seated on the stage of Senate Hall, the student next to me, who was a functionary of student union said, “Tarar Sahib you are sitting on a very historical stage.” He was grinning cheek-to-cheek.

“On this very stage sat, on the very spot where you are seated, Mr Hayat Ahmad Sherpao when a bomb was placed underneath the stage that killed him.” Although I tried to grin back for this great honour, but could not, and during the function all I did was to control my shaking legs.

Yesterday, while I was being placed on the stage of Khyber Medical College as a chief guest, the first question I asked the organizers, “I hope this stage of yours is not very historic?” Naturally the organizers were puzzled, just smiled back thinking in their heart of hearts that Mr Tarar has become a little foggy due to old age. Little did they know about history.

But today they were kind enough to take me into a historical Pass. The formidable Jamrud Fort neared. Built by the great Sikh General Hari Singh Nalwa in a record time of fifty-days as the legend says. However, we drove by and finally stopped at the foot of famous Michni Post.

On top of Michni there was a relief map of the surrounding area and Pak-Afghan border post, Torkham. In front of this detailed relief map was a comfortable seating area where normally head of states and visiting foreign delegation were seated while a young-man of the Khyber Rifles pointed out the major landmarks with the help of a baton. For a closer look, a mounted binocular was available. The young guide Mr Sami Afridi at first was slightly puzzled because we in no way looked like the dignitaries he was used to. Then he was kind enough to recognize me and smiled; with a sombre face he started the often repeated lecture.

“Sir, the Khyber Pass is one of the most historical passes in the world, on your way up you must have noticed a plaque declaring that during the first Anglo-Afghan war the whole British Army was wiped out by the Afghans and only one surgeon survived to tell the tale. Michni was the post where this lone survivor arrived and collapsed”, he looked at us triumphantly as if he had personally destroyed the British force, we looked reasonably impressed.

“Before the British, Alexander the Great descended through this Pass. Then came Babar, Taimur, Mehmud Ghaznavi, Abdali and Chengaiz Khan, this way.” Although Alexander, according to my knowledge, did not cross-over from this point and I doubt if Chengaiz Khan personally led the Mongols into India, but we had to look impressed, so we did.

Then Mr Afridi pointed to an old Buddhist wall, a torture chamber used personally by Taimur. In the mountains beyond lay Tora Bora, the supposed hideout of Osama Bin Laden; the Ayub Chowki which was acquired in lieu of some other post in Chitral; the town of Torkham and the lecture ended and he invited questions.

“Young man, you have mentioned all the armies who came through this pass to invade India, but do you know that in the history of subcontinent there was only one totally Indian army that went the other way i.e. crossed the Khyber and for once invaded Afghanistan?”

“No Sir!” he was again puzzled.

“It was the army of Maharaja Ranjit Singh which had a very strong Muslim element lead by General Hari Singh Nalwa, the founder of present Haripur town near Abbotabad which turned the tide and crossed into Afghanistan and conquered it. For generations the Afghan mothers while putting their children to sleep whispered, ‘go to sleep otherwise Nalwa would come’, like the Punjabi mothers who frightened their young ones into sleep by saying, ‘go to sleep, otherwise Abdali would come’.

“As a matter of fact when Maharaja Ranjit Singh was praised for capturing Afghanistan he or Nalwa said, ‘It is not difficult at all, along with swords, take a few bags of money and what the sword won’t achieve, money will’. Our good friends the Americans tried the same method and succeeded.”

“Sir we just narrate what we are told, if you write to the commandant perhaps he will add this bit of history also.”

“I know he won’t, what to talk of Ranjit Singh who was a Sikh, even the names of Chandar Gupt Moria and Great Ashok are not included in the history of Khyber whose empires extended beyond Afghanistan into Central Asia, although they were Buddhists and well before the advent of Islam.”

Well, all said and done, Michni Post was an experience and I thank the young Afridi and the lone survivor of the Anglo-Afghan War for that. If he had not survived there would have been no Michni around. My wife plucked a lovely creeper from the ground, we have replanted it in our home, hoping it will survive.