This Is Not That Dawn: Jhootha Sach, page 87
Rawat took out a pipe and pouch of tobacco, and as he filled his pipe, he replied to Shyama, ‘Yes, no doubt their hearts have been changed, but not their minds. This was Gandhiji’s third fast unto death for the cause of Hindu–Muslim unity. Emotions might overrule rational thought for a while, but it does not remove the cause of enmity. As the secretary of Home Affairs I know that there’s been little change in people’s attitude and thinking. Some people became even bitterer under this type of moral pressure. There were others who marched in processions and shouted slogans that Gandhi was a traitor, and to let Gandhi die.’
‘Yes, indeed, I saw it with my own eyes,’ said Mrs Agarwal. ‘They were shouting outside Birla House, and we could hear them inside. Gandhi was pained to hear about the protestors. I too felt awful.’
‘Gandhiji heard them?’ Dey was full of curiosity. ‘What did he say?’
‘He asked, “How many are there? What are they saying?”…There were only a handful of them.’
‘What would he have done if there was a large crowd?’ asked Dey.
‘Doesn’t matter how many,’ Shyama said. ‘Do you suppose Gandhi would have been cowed? He only listens to the voice of his conscience.’
‘I admit that Gandhiji would not have broken the vow he made,’ Rawat took charge of the discussion, ‘but did those slogan shouters have a change of heart? Certainly not! They were muzzled by the administration.’
‘Yes, Pandit Nehru really gave it to the people in the procession. I saw it with my own eyes,’ Mrs Agarwal said in support of Rawat.
‘Well, neither Patel had a change of heart. He simply had to cave in. After the government’s statement about paying the arrears was released on the fifteenth, he left for his home town in Kathiawar the very next morning. It is feared that he might resign.’
‘There was rumour about Patel withholding the payment until Pakistan recalled its troops from Kashmir,’ Surya said.
‘That rumour was based on fact,’ Dey said, biting the end of a cigar.
‘Absolutely correct,’ Rawat stopped putting a match to his pipe bowl, and said agitatedly, ‘Not only Patel, but the whole Cabinet was against it, and had made its decision public. But Gandhiji’s fast browbeat Nehru and Rajendra Babu. Then the others too gave in. Patel was all alone in his stand.’
Rawat took a sip of his fresh drink, ‘I say this on the basis of my twenty-four-year experience in administration. The government has suffered a serious blow to its credibility in matters relating to Pakistan and to its ability to administer the country by allowing the Cabinet to rescind its decision.’
‘Yes, sir, that certainly was a blunder,’ Dey agreed. ‘The government’s press release clearly stated that withholding the arrears was lawful and morally justified in view of Pakistan’s invasion of Indian territory. Gandhiji first accepted it as India’s legal and moral right to withhold the payment, then, strangely and inexplicably, chose to oppose the Cabinet’s decision to assert that right. I am surprised that Gandhiji did not oppose India sending its troops to defend Kashmir. And why did he oppose withholding the payment when its specific purpose was to put pressure on Pakistan to desist from its acts of invasion? Let’s suppose for a moment that he goes on fast to recall Indian troops from Kashmir. What then?’
‘I can tell you the secret behind it,’ Rawat said. ‘Gandhiji asked Mountbatten about this. Mountbatten replied that if India decides to withhold the arrears due to Pakistan, this will be the first dishonourable act on the part of India. Gandhiji went on to declare that the arrears should not be withheld.’
‘But wouldn’t the Hindus and India both suffer because of this decision?’ sahib asked.
‘The Hindus will suffer miserably,’ madam sided with her husband. ‘Those poor Hindus who found shelter in mosques, they will now be driven out in this cold weather and rain. Tara, how many mosques did Gandhiji mention in his list of conditions?’
‘Ji, one hundred and seventeen.’
‘But the result and overall impact of Gandhiji’s fast was laudable,’ Shyama said. ‘At least we got rid of the feelings of enmity and violence.’
‘Gandhiji put more emphasis on magnanimity and compassion than on legal niceties of what was right and moral,’ Surya agreed with Shyama. ‘If disputes can be resolved with goodwill, why bother with legalities. Don’t human considerations reign supreme?’
Rawat again leaned forward to speak, ‘Nobody would have found fault with that approach if it did generate goodwill. Then it certainly would have been a victory for India.’
‘It was indeed a victory for India.’ Shyama waved the cigarette held between two fingers, ‘It had a good influence on all of Pakistan.’
‘What is the proof of that influence?’ Rawat asked.
‘Wah, there were so many statements in West Pakistan’s legislative assembly. Can’t think of the names now…’
‘Ji, Sir Feroze Khan Noon, Nawab Daultana, Raja Gaznafar Ali Khan gave statements,’ Tara named the people, and added, ‘the chief minister, Khan of Mamdot, said that they would leave no stone unturned to save Gandhiji’s life.’
‘Zahid Hussain, the high commissioner for Pakistan, was also present at Birla House,’ Mr Agarwal said. ‘Whatever you want to know about news reports, you can ask Miss Tara. She reads two newspapers everyday end to end.’
‘Why won’t she read them? She has time, has leisure. She can do what she wants,’ madam could not resist saying.
‘So in your view these statements are ample proof of the impact of Gandhiji’s fast?’ Rawat continued on the same track.
‘Yes, why not? Why should we think otherwise?’ Shyama replied with a question.
‘Well, I too read all those statements very carefully. In my opinion what the Pakistani leaders said had a smug undertone of being vindicated by Gandhiji. You’ll agree that the sum of 550 million rupees is something tangible, more than a statement or mere words. What tangible steps the Pakistan government has taken to create an atmosphere of goodwill, I ask you. Have they made the announcement to recall their troops from Kashmir, or admitted that they will not intervene in the matter of Kashmir? Let me tell you something else. Gandhiji ended his fast at forty-five after twelve. Zahid Hussain was then at Birla House, correct?’ Rawat asked Mr Agarwal.
‘Sure he was. He too joined his hands and asked Gandhiji to end his fast. He also gave his assurance to do his best to maintain communal peace and harmony.’ Mr Agarwal’s voice was tinged with pride at having been present at Birla House.
‘That’s right. Well, Gandhiji has already received a blow to his confidence.’ Rawat took two puffs of his pipe, and continued, ‘At three o’clock, Gandhiji sent Pyarelal to Zahid Hussain’s place to ask if the Pakistan government would now have no objection to Gandhiji visiting to West Pakistan? And would he be welcome there? You know the answer he got?’
‘What, what? Tell us?’ they all wanted to know.
‘The high commissioner for Pakistan replied: “No, not so soon. Let me first consult with Lahore.” Believe me, he won’t get the permission, much less an invitation.’ Rawat drained his glass and continued puffing his pipe, as if nothing more needed to be said.
Sahib signalled Tara to serve another round of drinks. Tara was about to refill Shyama’s glass with sherry when she said, ‘Bhai, I had enough of this sweet stuff.’ She glanced at Rawat and Mr Agarwal, ‘If the men do not see it as a challenge, give me a small whiskey.’
‘Bravo! Bravo! Sure!’ They applauded.
Shayma looked at Rawat and said, ‘But what an example Gandhiji presented before all. Just consider its international implications.’
‘Yes, it’s a great historical event,’ Dey said.
‘This is a historical blunder!’ Rawat sat up straight, and said, ‘The government’s historical weakness. Just examine this event from a pragmatic point of view. Gandhiji is a great man, I admit. Everyone wants to emulate a great man. If people are unhappy with any government decision, they will just go on a fast. Some even might sacrifice their lives doing so.’
‘Wah, keeping a fast is no joke. One needs spiritual strength to be able to sustain such hardship,’ Shyama protested.
Rawat shook his head in disagreement, ‘I do not think that one needs any amount of spiritual strength or resources to keep a fast. This is a matter of firm resolve and willpower. There are those who kept fasts longer than Gandhiji. What was the name of that Irishman yes, Maxwini, was it?’
‘Sir!…I’m so sorry. Excuse me!’ Dey apologized for interrupting his senior official.
‘No, no. Go ahead,’ Rawat said.
‘Sir, you will remember that I was an undersecretary in UP’s Jail Department. I can’t recall the name…but several terrorists or you may say young revolutionaries were in jail at that time. The government refused to accord them the status of political prisoners and B Class facilities. Some of them fasted for fifty, sixty and one for even over one hundred days.’
‘What are you saying?’ Shyama said in amazement. ‘Fasting for fifty, sixty and one hundred days? Who can survive that long?’
‘Sure. This was reported by the jail authorities, not their supporters. They were remarkable people. I was in charge of their case. Confidential reports were sent from the jail. They would survive only on water for three to four weeks, without any food. Just on water, without any added salt or soda or lemon juice. No admirers surrounded them, or people who encouraged them or who sympathized with their cause. They were physically and mentally tortured to make them break their fast. They were weighed regularly. Some lost thirty, forty even fifty pounds. Some would refuse to drink even water so as to lose more weight and cause trouble for the government. The government of course could not let them die. They were fed forcibly. That process is very dangerous and painful. They were tied down and fed by a rubber tube pushed through their noses…’
Mrs Agarwal shivered visibly.
Dey continued, ‘Just think, how weak someone would be after fasting for twenty or thirty days. If the tube was inserted through their mouths, they tried to bite it off. So the tube was pushed through their noses, and they were fed milk and vitamins that way. One of them died because milk was accidentally pumped into his lungs. After feeding them milk they were left to starve so that they would feel hungry and ask for food themselves. But they did not give up their fast. Those who refused to drink water were given water forcibly. Amazing people. They relented only after their conditions were met.’
The room seemed muted and hushed after Dey ended his horrifying tale. Shyama had put her cigarette on the ashtray. She was so shocked that she forgot to pick it up. She said to Dey, ‘Those revolutionaries also had a spiritual strength. We all have a profound respect for Bhagat Singh. When did I say that he lacked such strengths or resources, but it is beyond common people.’
‘Listen,’ Rawat raised his hand, ‘Gandhiji called those revolutionaries as people who believed in violence. According to Gandhiji, such people did not have any spiritual strength. Which means that there would be no difference between theirs and Gandhiji’s fast if they did have the spiritual strength. In view of what just happened, the government decided to concede to Gandhiji’s terms. Let’s suppose for a moment that instead of silencing the refugees, someone provoked them and one thousand refugees went and surrounded Birla House and declared that they were going on a fast against any payments to Pakistan? Or what happens if Gandhiji, in pursuance of his creed of non-violence, decided to go on a fast to recall Indian troops from Kashmir?’
‘Please, don’t say any such thing,’ Shyama joined her hands and begged.
Tara was also carried away by the logic behind some of the arguments. She looked at Rawat and said hesitantly, ‘Excuse me, but may I ask you something?’
‘Sure.’
‘In your view the success of Gandhiji’s fast against a decision of the government can encourage others to follow his example to similarly protest other decisions of the government. And that would create problems for the administration.’
‘Definitely. That’s what I think,’ Rawat conceded. ‘The working classes, peasants, students, employees—any of them can begin a fast in support of their demands.’
‘Ji, that is possible,’ Tara said. ‘But is it not better for the government itself that such protests are by peaceful means of fasting, than by bombs, guns, swords and rioting? The fasting method at least won’t involve violence and strife, and will have the possibility for exchange of views and for reason to prevail.’
‘Yes, that is true,’ Shyama said enthusiastically.
Rawat looked at Tara for a moment, then said, ‘Miss Tara, it’s a waste of your talent to ask you to be just a children’s governess. You should either become Gandhiji’s private secretary, or join the editorial department of some newspaper.’
‘Sir, I hardly know anything. I’m good for nothing.’ Tara said modestly.
‘But I shall give you an answer.’ Rawat said, ‘Tell me, can you call fasting a logical argument? Gandhiji is truly a mahatma, but a lot of charlatans hide behind the guise of mahatmas. One mahatma begets one thousand fraudulent clones. But revolutionaries like Bhagat Singh cannot be emulated by sham and hypocrisy; one must be prepared to risk their lives.’
‘Sir, you’re perfectly right,’ Dey said enthusiastically.
Mr Agarwal got up to offer another drink to Rawat, but he covered his glass with his hand in a gesture of ‘no’.
‘We have dinner, then?’ Sahib asked.
‘I’ll have it served in one minute,’ Mrs Agarwal said, getting up. ‘Tara, come with me.’
Madam was having the table laid in the dinning room with the help of Tara, Shivni and Jugal. She did not want to touch anything that had meat in it, and asked Tara to arrange it on the table. Tara too found the smell of meat unpleasant. She tried to avoid touching the meat courses.
At the table, both Rawat and Dey asked about Narottam.
Jugal said that chotey sahib had his dinner, and went to see a movie. Tara also had to join them at the insistence of Rawat and Shyama. Rawat and Dey brought up the topic of Narottam.
Mr Agarwal said that Narottam was more interested in taking up a job than joining the family business.
Dey said, ‘If he wants to do a job, the Tatas pay quite well. But he seems more interested in doing some meaningful work than just a good salary. The boy is somewhat of an idealist.’
Mr Agarwal said, ‘Yes, that’s true.’
Tara was intrigued. Shyama, Mrs Surya and others were eating with obvious relish the food that had smelled so disagreeable to her. Only she and madam were not eating those dishes.
After dinner, sahib and madam were walking the guests to their cars waiting in the portico to see them off. Shayma trailed behind, holding Tara’s arm and telling her, ‘I’d like to see you more often, okay. Mrs Agarwal was saying that you have plenty of spare time. Take some interest in social work. Who else will do it if not you…’
‘Miss Tara!’
Tara turned her head. The rear door to Rawat’s car was open, and he stood beside it, his hand extended. He shook hands with her, and said, ‘Goodnight. You must come along with Mr and Mrs Agarwal.’
After shaking hands with him, Tara also joined her hands and said namaste in her habitual manner.
Tara was usually free after putting the children to bed at nine. She would read a magazine or a book in her room until 10.30 or eleven before going to bed. It was past eleven thirty, but she was not sleepy. She lay on her bed, and opened a magazine, but her thoughts were on the behaviour and manners of the respectable people she had met, people who had done all that without any feeling of guilt, shame or fear that was considered so evil by the common folk. Neither were they ashamed to drink, nor did they talk nonsense or fall down in a drunken stupor. These were of a different type; they discussed politics and social problems. Maybe those acts were not so evil for them, that it was a crime only when one was poor and without means.
‘Mrs Agarwal did not like my sitting with them upstairs. But what could I do; I was trapped. She was not happy with my taking part in the discussion. I just couldn’t hold my tongue.’
It was 19 January. Things were getting back to normal after the disarray and chaos of the past six days. Tara had sent the children off to their schools, and was on her way to get the newspapers. She was feeling a bit piqued. Madam had made some nasty comments earlier in the morning. One of Lalli’s exercise books could not be found. Tara and Shivni searched for it, but in the end Lalli had to go to school without it. Madam, when she found out, said, ‘She has no time to care for the children. If one can get by with wagging her tongue, why should one work. All she knows is to talk with people.’
Tara was hurt. She always prepared the school bags before putting the children to bed, but she got no time to do that the previous evening. They got her involved in all sorts of things, she thought irritably. ‘All that is not part of my duties. Now I have to listen to taunts. I am her employee, she pays me, so why won’t she want the satisfaction of belittling me.’ She was not at fault, Tara decided. It was a cold morning. She stood in the rays of sun near the stairs, and began looking at the newspapers.
‘Good morning!’
She recognized Narottam’s voice and looked up. Still perturbed by madam’s comment, she could not smile, just returned his greeting.
Narottam dug his hands in the pockets of his woolen dressing gown and asked, ‘How are you?’
‘Okay.’
‘Did these people bother you last evening?’
‘What do you mean?’ Tara asked, her brow furrowed.
‘They made you sit with them against your wish and maybe forced you to have a drink.’ Narottam’s voice was full of anger against his father.
‘Who says so?’ Tara said to protest the allegation of her harassment, ‘They invited me to join them, sahib also asked me, so I stayed back. There was no question of any force.’
‘They did not force you?’ Anger dissipated from Narottam’s voice.
‘What do you mean by forcing me? To do what? They asked me to sit with them, especially Dr Shyama and sahib, and I did. They had drinks, I did not. That’s all to it.’
