A FREIND IN NEED

ONE AFTERNOON three weeks later, Swaminathan stood before Mani's house
and gave a low whistle. Mani joined him. They started for Rajam's house,
speculating on the way what the surprise (which Rajam had said he would give
them if they saw him that afternoon) might be.
'I think,' said Swaminathan, 'Rajam is merely joking. It is merely a trick to
get us to his house.' He was very nearly pushed into a gutter for this doubt.
'Probably he has bought a monkey or something,' Swaminathan ventured
again. Mani was gracious enough to admit that it might be so. They thought of all
possible subjects that might surprise them, and gave up the attempt in the end.
Their thoughts turned to their enemies. 'You know what I am going to do?'
Mani asked. 'I am going to break Somu's waist. I know where he lives. He lives in
Kabir Street, behind the market. I have often seen him coming out at nights to a
shop in the market for betel leaves. I shall first fling a stone at the municipal lamp
and put it out. You have no idea how dark Kabir Street is.... I shall wait with my
club, and as soon as he appears--He will sprawl in the dust with broken bones....'
Swaminathan shuddered at the thought. 'And that is not all,' said Mani, 'I am going
to get that Pea under by heel and press him to the earth. And Sankar is going to
hang by his tuft over Sarayu, from a peepul branch....'
They stopped talking when they reached Rajam's house. The gate was
bolted, and they got up the wall and jumped in. A servant came running towards
them. He asked, 'Why, did you climb the wall?' ; 'Is the wall your property?' Mani
asked and burst into laughter.
'But if you had broken your ribs--' the servant began.
'What is that to you? Your ribs are safe, are they not?'
Swaminathan asked ungraciously and laughed.'And just a word more,' Mani said, 'do you happen to be by any chance the
Police Superintendent's son?'
'No, no,' replied the servant.
'Very well then,' replied Mani, 'we have come to see and talk to the Police
Superintendent's son.' The servant beat a hasty retreat.
They banged their fists on Rajam's door. They heard the clicking of the
latch and hid themselves behind the pillar.
Rajam peeped out and shut the door again.
They came out, stood before the door, and wondered what to do.
Swaminathan applied his mouth to the keyhole and mewed like a cat. Mani pulled
him away and putting his mouth to the hole barked like a dog. The latch clicked
again, and the door slightly opened. Mani whispered to Swaminathan, 'You are a
blind kitten, I will be a blind puppy.'
Mani fell down on his knees and hands, shut his eyes tight, pushed the
door with his head, and entered Rajam's room in the role of a blind puppy.
Swaminathan crawled behind him with shut eyes, mewing for all he was worth.
They moved round and round the room, Rajam adding to the interest of the game
by mewing and barking in answer every few seconds. The blind puppy brushed its
side against a leg, and thinking that it belonged to Rajam, softly bit the calf muscle.
Imagine its confusion when it opened its eyes and saw that it was biting its enemy,
Somu! the blind kitten nestled close to a leg and scratched it with its paw. Opening
its eyes it found that it was fondling a leg that belonged to its enemy, Sankar.
Mani remained stunned for a moment, and then scrambled to his feet. He
looked around, his face twitching with shame and rage. He saw the Pea sitting in a
corner, his eyes twinkling with mischief, and felt impelled to take him by the throat.
He turned round and saw Rajam regarding him steadily, his mouth still quivering
with a smothered grin.
As for Swaminathan he felt that the best place for himself would be the
darkness and obscurity under a table or a chair.'What do you mean by this, Rajam?' Mani asked.
'Why are you so wild?'
'It was your fault,' said Mani vehemently, 'I didn't know--' He looked around.
'Well, well. I didn't ask you to crawl and bark, did I?'
Somu and company laughed. Mani glared round, 'I am going away, Rajam.
This is not the place for me.'
Rajam replied, 'You may go away, if you don't want me to see you or speak
to you any more.'
Mani fidgeted uneasily. Rajam took him aside and soothed him. Rajam
then turned to Swaminathan, who was lost in bottomless misery. He comforted and
flattered him by saying that it was the best imitation of a cat and dog that he had
ever witnessed in his life. He admitted that for a few minutes he wondered whether
he was watching a real cat and a dog. They would get prizes if they did it in fairs. If
Swaminathan and Mani would be good enough to repeat the fun, he would be
delighted, and even ask his father to come and watch.
This was soothing. Swaminathan and Mani felt proud of themselves. And
after the round of eating that followed, they were perfectly happy, except when they
thought of the other three in the room.
They were in this state of mind when Rajam began a lecture on friendship.
He said impressive things about friendship, quoting from his book the story of the
dying old man and the faggots, which proved that union was strength. A friend in
need was a friend indeed. He then started giving hair-raising accounts of what hell
had in store for persons who fostered enmity. According to Rajam, it was written in
the Vedas that a person who fostered enmity should be locked up in a small room,
after his death. He would be made to stand, stark naked, on a pedestal of red-hot
iron, there were beehives all around with bees as big as lemons.
If the sinner stepped down from the pedestal, he would have to put his foot
on immense scorpions and centipedes that crawled about the room in hundreds--
(A shudder went through the company.)The sinner would have to stand thus for a month, without food or sleep.
At the end of a month he would be transferred to another place, a very narrow
bridge over a lake of boiling oil. The bridge was so narrow that he would be able to
keep only one foot on it at a time. Even on the narrow bridge there were plenty of
wasp nests and cactus, and he would be goaded from behind to move on. He
would have to balance on one foot, and then on another, for ages and ages, to
keep himself from falling into the steaming lake below, and move on indefinitely....
The company was greatly impressed. Rajam then invited everyone to
come forward and say that they would have no more enemies. If Sankar said it, he
would get a bound note-book; if Swaminathan said it, he would get a clock-work
engine; if Somu said it, he would get a belt; and if Mani said it, he would get a nice
pocket-knife; and the Pea would get a marvellous little pen.
He threw open the cupboard and displayed the prizes. There was silence
for some time as each sat gnawing his nails. Rajam was sweating with his peace-
making efforts. The Pea was the first to rise. He stood before the cup- board and
said, 'Let me see the fountain-pen.' Rajam gave it him.
The Pea turned it round and round and gave it back without any comment.
'Why don't you like it?' Rajam asked. The Pea kept staring into the cupboard and
said, 'Can I have that box?' He pointed at a tiny box with a lot of yellow and black
designs on it and a miniature Taj Mahal on its lid. Rajam said, 'I can't give you that.
I want it.' He paused.
He had two more boxes like that in his trunk. He changed his mind, 'No. I
don't want it. You can take the box if you like.'
In a short while, Mani was sharpening a knife on his palm; Somu was trying
a belt on; Sankar was fingering a thick bound note-book; and Swaminathan was
jealously clasping a green engine to his bosom.