A separate peace

A separate peace
J.L. Gupta

Sleep is beautiful. When nestled in bed, the spirit of consciousness disengages itself. The slumber of the body sometimes leads to the awakening of the soul. I feel more than myself. Airy notions enter the mind. I look beyond the limits of sober probability. I dream. I see that by an act of divine grace I have become the Chief Executive of the Military Junta in theimmediate neighbourhood.

What do I find? What do I wish for? How can I attain the objective of personal success and glory?

The country is caught in a chaotic crisis. No one can be comfortable in this situation. So, I could not be feeling at the top of the world. Could I be happy at the prospect of being able to do a bit for my people? Or guilty? Of having overthrown a legitimately elected government? And then of prosecuting the man who had been good and kind to me? The man who had given me the job of the country's chief of the armed forces? That too on trumped up charges?

Probably, a bit of all. Today, every word that I utter is an inviolable command. It is the law. Everyone has to follow it without delay or demur. I lay down the rules of the game. Then I play. I can never lose. This gives me a complete sense of confidence. And just the thought is enough to elevate my spirits and make me happy.

But then everyone has a conscience. Me too. It is the oracle of God. No matter how much I try, it does not let me rest in peace. Or forget anything. It gives me silent but nagging reminders regarding my actions. All the time. Every moment of the day and night. And deep inside, it makes me uncomfortable. So what do I do?

I had worked out a scheme. To divert the people's attention. As a first step, I put the incumbent of the office of prime minister on trial. Trying to tell the people that he was the devil who had planned to murder me. In collusion with a few of his cronies. By not allowing my plane to land. So that it ran out of fuel and crashed to the ground.

It worked for some time. But I was not sure if the judges would let me achieve my objective of getting him out of my way. However, I kept up the pressure. Used my men to demoralise everyone. Ultimately, I allowed him amnesty. And he had to pay a substantial price for it. Some face saving for me. By His grace!

However this is not the end of my troubles. I have to keep the people from complaining and crying. So I open the other front. The issue that has been kept alive by successive military rulers. To stay secure in their seats. The popular problem of Kashmir. I realise that the two contenders have spent more in men and money than it deserved. But the problem has served a purpose. It has helped the armed forces to justify their own existence. To keep their finger in every pie. To keep the politicians under complete control. And the people can be misled by the bogey of national pride.

But I am painfully aware of the fact that a weak argument cannot be pressed for too long. No one can fool all the people all the time. So I have another strategy. It is simple. I must rise from a mere military man to a celebrated statesman. I must prove I am different. How? Give the world a solution to the nagging problem of Kashmir. Offer and accept a simple solution. Like the existing line of actual control as the national border.

What would it give me? Can you make an intelligent guess? Try. I can tell you. I shall be a strong contender for this year's Nobel prize. For peace. The first for a ruler in the subcontinent. And a point for Pakistan over India in the comity of nations.

Brilliant? Am I not? Maybe. But it's still a dream. Would Pervez Musharraf make it a reality?