Chapter 25-

THE LAND THEY WERE LEAVING

THE morning dragged on, interminably slow. They all sat in the sitting room that had become their camping ground, looking at magazines, trying to hide their anxiety. The telephone was still not working. Towards one o'clock, Gian got up and said that he would go and find out the latest information about the convoy. 'But you can't,' Sundari's mother protested. 'Is it really necessary?

'Of course it is; otherwise we shall never know when they are ready to start,' Gian told her.

'But it is not safe for a Hindu to go into the centre of the town, on a bicycle too."

I think I shall be able to manage,' Gian assured her. "Will you come and bolt the door after me?' he said to Sundari, She got up and followed him, without saying anything. In fact, she had not spoken a single word to him since he came upstairs.

Gian was gone for nearly two hours. Tekchand spent most of the time pacing up and down the passage, glancing alternately at his watch and at the road. Sundari sat in a chair in the passage, but with her back turned to the road. When her father saw the bicycle in the distance, he gave an audible sigh of relief. "There he is!" he said brightly. "You had better go down and open the door.'

Sundari herself felt a curious sense of relief at Gian's return, but she did not speak to him. He parked his bicycle in the waiting room and ran upstairs.

"They still have no idea,' he told Tekchand. "They are still waiting for information from the other side. I shall go again, later in the evening. I found out about the telephone too. There's no chance of the service being restored for days. The wires have been cut in many places, and the poles felled. It seems that the Hindu employees of the company have either run away or are keeping in hiding. The Muslims are busy-busy with what everyone else seems to be doing."

'Is no one's telephone working? Tekchand asked.

'Not one; the whole system's broken down. I'll just have to make another trip on my bicycle. They said something about starting the convoy tonight-but the Inspector wouldn't tell me a thing. I shall go again in the evening."

"Why do they have to be so secretive about it?' Tekchand complained. 'How are we to know anything about it-three miles from the town, if they don't let us know in advance?"

"I suppose they have to be secretive for our own safety,' his wife pointed out. To ensure that there is no attack just when the convoy is being assembled, with everyone neatly gathered in one place.

How can we trust anyone, when the police themselves take sides?' Tekchand said in a resigned voice..

The servants were saying that in Bhawalpur, a whole convoy was taken into the desert and attacked by its military escort. no one escaped.'

Nonsense!' her husband snapped. 'Servants' gossip, all built up on rumour and fear.'

But don't you think it's just as well to realize what we're in for?' his wife said very gently. "Why pretend things are better than they really are?"

I managed to get two tins of condensed milk, Gian announced. He fished them out of his pockets.

It certainly is good having you here,' Tekchand said with feeling. So comforting. That two hours you were away weren't so good, I can tell you. I felt quite lonely. It's good to have a resourceful young man in the house."

'I think that both you and Mrs. Tekchand should go and get some rest, Gian suggested. There's no point in all of us waiting here, particularly if we are to start tonight."

"When did you say you were going back into town?' Tekchand asked.

'At seven in the evening. They should know by then.' 

"I certainly hope we are able to get away tonight,' Tekchand said. Every day that they delay, our chances of getting away become more difficult."

Sundari gave a nervous laugh. 'Since everyone's doing all this plain speaking, what are they like, just now? Very good indeed!' Gian told her. 'Only a few hours more, and we should be on our way. At least fifty cars, escorted by police jeeps and a few military trucks of the boundary force. Just a day's journey, and then we'll be across the border."

A day's journey in one's own car,' Tekchand pointed out. "Not in one of those convoys; not with the roads jammed as they are. Some of them take a whole week."

In the dark, Sundari first heard the urgent clanging of the bicycle bell. Then Gian came into the circle of light cast by the porch lamp. He was panting hard. Even as she opened the door, she knew that something had gone wrong.

He jumped off and ran up the steps, carrying his bicycle. Something awful has happened," he told her. The convoy was formed quite early this evening. It left nearly an hour ago."

For a moment they were both speechless, staring at each other as animals do when a shot rings out in the jungle. And then she gasped: 'How are we going to break this to Abaji?"

I have been thinking of that all the while I was coming back. I don't even know what to suggest. I don't think there are going to be any more organized convoys from this place... I mean properly escorted ones, the way things are shaping. To go on sitting here, waiting, would be suicidal.'

Do you think they were deliberately misleading us?' Sundari asked.

'It looks very much like it. When I was there at three, the man outside said they'd be starting in the evening. But the Inspector was quite emphatic that they would not-told me to call at seven again. He must have known all the time." What is the alternative now?

'I would suggest that we dash after the convoy and catch up.

They couldn't be more than ten miles away, at convoy speed. 'Do you really think that is the answer?

'How can one tell? That seems to be the most sensible thing to do. And yet, who knows...if we are caught before we reach the convoy... he stopped in mid-sentence.

Can't we pretend to be Muslims give Muslim names; wear achkans and odhnis and salwars..'

He shook his head in despair. "They... they invariably make the men undress, to see if they are circumcised. But they would spot us as impostors even without that. We would be driving in the opposite direction. And in your father's case-my own too -even that would not be necessary. Our ears are pierced for ear-rings. Anyone can tell that we are Hindus." "Then you think we should chance it ?"

'I would be all for it. There is danger in that too, but sitting here is just asking for trouble."

'Come on, then, that's what we'll do.' She grabbed his hand and led him up the stairs. 'Pretend there is no danger. Abaji will do whatever you tell him to do... what is it?'

He had halted on the stairs and motioned her to stop. Just a moment,' he whispered. "What's that noise ?"

They could hear the sound of a car coming up the road. "My

God!' she gasped. 'Does that mean it is already too late?" He shook his head. They don't come in motor cars. They come marching. It may even be your brother."

'I don't think so,' she said. 'Somehow I have a feeling that this is what we've all been waiting for. No, Debi has no car.

'But he could have got one. It's here! Switch off the lights, quick! And don't worry, I am sure it's nothing to worry about. Sundari found the switch and turned off the lights. They stood in the darkness at the foot of the stairs, Sundari clutching Gian's wrist. He could feel the trembling of her body, and her fingers were like ice.

The dog came scampering down the stairs and began to bark. There was a sound of footsteps on the other side of the front door, followed by a knock.

Ask him who it is,' Gian said to her in a whisper. "Who is it?' Sundari asked.

"Open the door, please. We are friends. We have come to escort you to the convoy."

"Name? Gian whispered. "Ask him his name,"

"What is your name?" 

'Open the door and we will tell you,' the voice said, and there was a loud and prolonged thumping on the door.

Gian leaned closer to her. 'T'll go and hide,' he told her. Just in case. Let them think you are alone in the house. Just check up on some particulars... they may be telling the truth. But be tactful, please polite!"

"We are all by ourselves in the house, my father and mother and I,' Sundari said. 'I am sure you will understand that we have to be careful. Who sent you? Where are we to join the convoy?"

What is it, Sundar? Who has come in the jeep?" Tekchand called out from above. What are you doing in the dark?

They were both startled by his question. I am finding out who they are, Abaji,' Sundari told him, hoping that her tone of urgency would communicate itself to him. 'Please go and sit with Mother and... and don't say another word-it might not be safe!"

The banging on the door had suddenly stopped. In the silence, they could hear the whispered conversation in the porch, punc- tuated by a sibilant oath and a nervous giggle. I'll put on the porch light,' Gian told Sundari. 'You peep out of the window and see if it's anyone you know. Where is the switch ?"

She guided him to the switch and placed his hand on it. Then she went up to the window on the right of the door and pulled the blind aside. He flicked the switch on and off, and the porch lights came on and went out again. He went and stood close to her near the window, and felt her body quiver at his touch.

"Who?"

She turned to him and held both his hands. 'Shafi' she gasped.

They ran up the stairs, still holding each other by the hand. Both Tekchand and Sundari's mother were standing at the head of the stairs, their faces beset with fear.

'Don't let them find out there's an extra man in the house," Gian warned. 'I'll hide myself downstairs and come out only only if it becomes necessary. For all you know, they may not- I mean, you may be able to buy them off." They were breaking open the main door, hammering at it with some heavy instrument. 'How many are there?' Gian asked Sundari.

"There were three outside the jeep, one at the wheel... oh,

God! Four!' 

The blows came louder now. Sundari's mother folded her hands in prayer and closed her eyes. Jagadamba, mother of the world,' she prayed. 'Save us from this ordeal."

'Don't attempt to resist,' Shafi yelled from below. "We have got revolvers. Here!' There was the report of a shot being fired. 'See? The first person who comes against us will be shot.

'Go and lock yourself in the room with the statues,' Gian whispered. "That will take them another few minutes to open- give you a little more time. Me too, I have to hide that bicycle."

He ran down the stairs and they saw him disappear in the darkness of the waiting room. The others had barely gone into the museum and locked the door behind them when they heard the front door splinter. After that one of them must have put a hand through the crack and released the catch, and suddenly the voices and the footsteps were in the house.

They could hear their progress in the hall below and up the stairs and then along the long passage that led past the upstairs rooms to the museum at the end. Spindle cowered at Sundari's feet, giving out low whimpers.

There was a loud crack on the door, as though it had been hit with some steel instrument, followed by a peremptory voice saying: 'Open the door!'

They stared at the door in silence, heard the blows fall harder, saw the trembling of the door against each blow. "What do you want?" Sundari said fiercely.

For a second, the blows stopped. 'I want to you!' a voice answered from outside. It was followed by the laughter of the others.

The bloody swine! Tekchand muttered in sudden anger. "That's no way to talk! And stop breaking up that door!" he yelled. He rushed up to the door and slid the bolt open. "Stop that, now!' he shouted, flinging the door open.

Shafi Usman and two men stood outside. Shafi had a revolver in his right hand and a leather holster slung across his chest. The other two held the tyre-levers which they had been using to break down the doors.

'I'll give you a thousand rupees,' Tekchand began, "if you leave the house... 

Shafi did not even look at him. He shoved him out of the way and marched into the room, his eyes fixed on Sundari. 'Put on the lights, Hamid!' he ordered, still staring at Sundari. 'You guard the door, Inoos!"

Stop! Stop this outrage at once!' Tekchand said in a shaking voice. How dare you break into... At this stage, the man who was guarding the door advanced up to him and crashed his fist into his face.

Sundari's mother screamed. 'Don't touch my husband!' she pleaded. 'Please! You can have my ring, necklace, everything, but...

Shafi laughed. His laughter was like a gorilla coughing. 'Stop the woman whining!' he ordered.

Hamid must have found the switch. The two chandeliers flooded the room with light, covering the bronze figures and the men and women with a harsh glare. Shafi advanced close to Sundari, screwing up his eyes.

I will kill you! Sundari spluttered. 'Don't touch me... don't touch me and leave the dog alone!' she shrieked. "Stop! Spindle!... Oh, no-oo!"

Spindle had made a dart at Hamid, the man who had put on the lights, and Hamid had brought the tyre-lever crashing down on its head, splitting the skull open. For a few moments, the dog lay twitching at their feet, and then became still.

You brute!' Sundari shrieked and made a rush at Hamid, but Shafi lunged forward and caught her. He pinned her to his chest for a moment and then pushed her away with force. She staggered and fell against the side of the carved sofa and then sank down on the carpet. But she got to her feet again and stood holding the side of the sofa, panting, her face a mask of hatred.

"Yaah!-look at those kaffir gods!' the man at the door was saying. Just look at them! There's a pair actually... I'll kill you for this! Sundari was saying, glaring at Hamid. But as Hamid advanced towards her as if to hit her, Shafi stopped him:

'Don't touch the girl! You take the other woman!"

Sundari's mother gave a low moan. "The god will punish you for this,' she said. "Your own god."

Shafi turned to Tekchand. Your son took away my girl. You know what I did to her? I threw acid on her face disfigured her for life. But that's not enough for me. I have to get a girl in exchange. He pointed his revolver at Sundari. "There!" Don't boast Sundari retorted. "She was not disfigured. and you haven't got me." Shafi gave a short guffaw. He tossed his revolver in the air and caught it again. Then he put it away in the holster.

Look, I shall give you a lakh of rupees,' Tekchand said. There was a streak of blood running down his lower lip. 'A lakh, if only... "Only a lakh Shafi taunted. Did you hear that, Hamid? That's what they are worth to him, his wife and daughter-a lakh.' 'Don't even talk to that animal, Abaji,' Sundari said to him.

Animal! Shafi grimaced. 'You'll see soon enough, what kind of animal.'

'Oh, Shafi, Hamid; look at these obscene gods!' Inoos said. Shafi began to stare at the images, almost as though he had just become aware of them. He strode over, seized one of the statues in his hand and crashed it on another. Then, as though seized with a frenzy, he went about the room, raining blows on the figures, toppling them down.

"Stop it! Stop it! Tekchand shouted. "They are sacred to us,! The blood was still running from his lip. 'Sacred, don't you see, just as your own god is sacred to you. And these women are my wife and daughter. They should be like sisters to you. I implore you, in the name of all that is sacred to you, your prophet Mohammad himself, not to touch them, your sisters...

'Sisters!' Shafi turned on him viciously. 'Is that how you Hindus treated our women? Like sisters and mothers! They were raped in front of their own men; in Nabha, Patiala; in Delhi itself. Raped, mutilated-they weren't sisters then!"

"Oh!' Sundari's mother uttered a stifled moan. She put her hands against her eyes and crumpled down and lay hunched up on the carpet. Tekchand darted forward to rush to her side, but Hamid intervened and pushed him back.

'Don't move, anyone?' Shafi barked. 'Hit them if they make a move!' he ordered.

"Yaah!-look at those breasts!' Inoos raved from his post at the door. 'Like mangoes. Look at... Toba! What was that?"

They turned their heads at the door where Inoos stood framed, clutching the tyre-lever in his hand, and listening to the sounds of the scuffle that came from downstairs. And they heard the stifled, half-moan, half-shriek followed by a thud. Shafi whipped out his revolver. 'Go and see what is happening, Inoos he snapped.

They saw Inoos turn and go running down the passage, and then they heard the sound of other footsteps running up the stairs. They heard Inoos's yell at the end of the passage: "Hai-tobaaa!-there's another of them in the house, the and then a crash and a sudden silence followed by a series of bumps. Gian had sprung out of the darkness, carrying the Shiva in his hands, and brought it down on Inoos' upraised arm which held the tyre-lever; then, as Inoos staggered under the blow, he had swung again at his shoulder. Inoos crumpled where he stood, at the head of the stairs, and then went rolling down a few steps in slow, thudding bumps.

"The lying bitch!-telling us there was no one else in the house!' Shafi cursed. He held the revolver at the ready, its hammer cocked, aimed at the doorway.

"Gian! Don't show yourself in the door! Sundari shouted.

'He's got a pistol aimed at the door!" But even as she was saying it, Gian was in the doorway, in full view, wielding the metal image of an unshapely god. He was clutching it to his chest like a shield when Shafi pulled the trigger.

The bullet crashed against the metal and glanced off, making a distinct, bell-like sound which hung in the air long after its report had died out. Gian still crouched in the doorway, his face grim. "If you get the chance, make a dash for it and hide in the trees,' he told them, without taking his eyes away from Shafi's gun. It's quite safe below. I have laid out-

'Stop the girl moving! Stop anyone moving!" Shafi yelled at Hamid, still holding the revolver rigidly aimed at Gian. I'll look after this... Watch out!-the woman! Watch out!-damn it, the old bitch...!

Sundari's mother had picked up one of the figures lying close to her and come to a sitting position. As Hamid turned, she swung with it at his legs from hardly five feet away. Hamid uttered a groan of pain and reeled against the sofa, throwing out his hands to balance himself.

Then everything happened in a split-second, almost simul- taneously, too quickly for their powers of reasoning to make any difference to the result.

'Chinall' Shafi cursed in his rage and leaped to where Sundari's mother sat crouching. He thrust the muzzle of the revolver into her chest and fired.

Even as he was turning, Gian hurled the Shiva at him from where he stood. It caught him squarely on the side and made him stagger at its impact. And then Gian made a dive for Hamid who had struggled to his feet, but he eluded him and made a bolt for the door. As Gian went racing after him, he saw Sundari pick up the Shiva he had flung at Shafi. At the head of the stairs, he gave up the chase and turned back.

The sight that met his eyes made him stand still for a moment, feeling numb, his knees wobbly. Shafi was wriggling on the floor, shielding his head with his hands, and Sundari stood above him, the Shiva from the Little House in her hands. Even as he was looking, he saw her bring it down on Shafi's head, and then, when the man rolled forward and lay limp on the carpet, he saw her bring it down again and again, as though killing a scorpion or a spider, crashing in the dead man's skull until it cracked open and blood and brains spurted out in a red and white. mess. He put a hand on her shoulder, and she whirled round, still holding the bloodied Shiva in her hands. Your mother,' he pointed. 'Go to her."

For a second or two, she stood glaring at him uncomprehend- ingly, then she dropped the Shiva and ran to where her father was bending over her mother, cradling her head in his lap.

She was still alive, but it was clear that she would not live more than a few minutes. There was a bubble of pink blood on her mouth, and her moans were getting less and less audible.

What is it, dear?-yes, yes, I am here-Sundar is here too,'" " Tekchand was saying to his wife. "What is it, Radha?"

'Please don't leave me here, darling, please take me with you," she was saying.

Her husband wiped the froth from her lips with his hand and then brushed her lips with his. 'No, I shall never leave you,' he promised. Now rest. Gian turned his eyes away, aware that this was something too private for his eyes and ears. For a moment, he thought of going to look for Hamid again, but even as he was turning, he heard the jeep drive off with a roar and a crash of gears, and saw its lights flooding the long, tree-lined driveway of Kerwad House.

The pale light of dawn was just beginning to make their head- lights unnecessary when they saw the long black snake of dimmed lights crawling ahead of them in the desert. Hundreds of vehicles crammed with fleeing Hindus: the convoy.

Another ten minutes and they were a part of it, moving with antlike precision towards the part of India that was to remain India.

"They killed her,' Tekchand kept saying every now and then. "They killed her, my Lakshmi-and I have left her behind. Not even cremated. All alone! I promised I wouldn't. She would never have left me."

For Sundari, it was heartbreaking to hear him. Strangely, he was not crying. He looked dazed, and the way in which he kept talking about his wife was curiously matter-of-fact. 'I have left your mother all alone. She would never have left me.'

It was like a refrain, a background sound-track to a movie; it was in some way a cry in the wilderness too, heeded by no one. They concentrated on the drive, trying to blunt their minds to the dangers and hardships of the journey, saying nothing to him, aware that there was nothing to say.

About nine o'clock, the convoy ground to a halt. A military jeep with a loudspeaker drove past them and told them that they were being made to halt because they were due to pass a convoy going in the opposite direction. They were ordered to pull their vehicles to one side of the road so that the other convoy could pass. It would take about an hour, they were told, and during that time, they were allowed to get out of their vehicles if they wished.

Tekchand was listening to the announcement, his head cocked to one side. "They are going to my land,' he mumbled. 'I am
running away from it. Leaving my wife alone-just lying in that room.

Men, women and children got out of their vehicles, each trying to find a place to relieve themselves, sheer physical compulsion heaping another humiliation upon them. They squatted wherever they could, urinating, defecating, washing themselves with their precious stocks of water, each trying to avoid looking at the welter of shamed humanity around them. Sundari brewed a pot of tea on the primus stove and opened a tin of condensed milk. As she handed Gian his cup, he asked:

"Where is your father?"

'He has just gone to stretch his legs,' she told him. 'He'll be back any minute."

"We have been here for half an hour already,' Gian pointed out. 'Half an hour!' Sundari gasped. "Oh, my God! You don't think. That was exactly what Gian had been thinking. But he tried to calm her fears. I shouldn't worry. There are still another thirty minutes to go."

They waited without saying anything. All around them, people were getting back into their vehicles. The convoy in the opposite direction went rumbling past. And then the jeep with the loud- speaker was back, ordering them to get back into line and move off. Their brief halt was over.

Meekly, they got into the car and waited. The station wagon ahead of them lurched off, the men riding on its roof holding precariously to the carrier railing. The car behind them began to honk impatiently, and then the long lines of trucks and cars and jeeps took up the refrain. The military jeep with the loudspeaker came rushing up to them.

"What's wrong!' a foghorn voice bawled at them. 'Get a bloody move on! You there! You!-Gian Talwar!"

Gian blinked. He found himself sweating. It couldn't be. He was staring into the face of Patrick Mulligan; the teddy-bear shape wedged into the front seat of the jeep, crowned by the round red face, the pale grey eyes unblinking, the voice of authority hoarser than ever, more commanding. "My father is missing,' Sundari told him.

"What's that? Hell, Miss, we can't wait all day for him! Move on, will you!' he ordered Gian. 'We can't hold up the convoy for someone's old man!'

For a second or two, Gian hesitated. Then he started the engine and threw the car into gear while Mulligan kept motioning him forward with his arm. Then, without looking at Sundari, he released the clutch. The Ford leaped forward.