I Shall Not Hear The Nightingale Read Online Free PDF Page A

they all replied in a chorus and burst out laughing. The atmosphere changed to one of hilarity. Sabhrai noticed her husband glance at his watch. She made another attempt. ‘Will any of you have the time to go to the temple today?’ she asked.
    ‘I have to see the Deputy Commissioner first,’ answered her husband. ‘On days like these there is always danger of Hindu-Muslim riots; all magistrates have to be on duty. I will go if I have the time.’
    ‘I have to be there,’ replied Sher Singh. ‘We have organized a meeting outside the temple.’
    ‘You go to the temple before you go to your meeting,’ snapped his mother.
    ‘And,’ added Buta Singh with indulgent pride, ‘don’t say anything which may cause trouble. Remember my position. I do not mind your hobnobbing with these Nationalists — as a matter of fact, it is good to keep in with both sides — but one ought to be cautious.’
    ‘O no, no,’ answered Sher Singh. ‘I know what to say and what not to say.’
    It was not customary to consult the girls. Beena was expected to go with her mother unless there were good reasons for not doing so. She knew her only chance of getting away was to bring up the subject while her father was still there. ‘There are only a few weeks left for my exams. I had promised to go to Sita’s house to work with her. We help each other with the preparation.’
    ‘Why can’t she come here? Why do you always have to go to her?’ asked Sabhrai. She had been getting more and more difficult about Beena going to Sita’s house.Her sharp tone made Buta Singh react adversely. He came to his daughter’s rescue.
    ‘Let her go to Sita’s. There will be nobody in the house today to give her lunch or tea. I will drop you at Wazir Chand’s house.’
    That ended the argument. Buta Singh’s word was never questioned. The only one left was Champak. Sabhrai was not much concerned with her plans. If she came to the temple, she would not say anything. If she decided to shut herself in her room with her radio at full blast — as she often did — she would still say nothing. Nevertheless Champak felt that the situation demanded some explanation from her. ‘I haven’t washed my hair for a long time. If it dries in time, I will go in the afternoon — if I can find anyone to go with. Otherwise I’ll stay at home and put away the Granth after evening prayers.’
    Buta Singh looked at his wrist-watch. ‘I must be going,’ he announced with a tone of finality and stood up. ‘Get your books and things, Beena.’
    ‘Baisakhi Day! All the world is on holiday but we have to work. Others go to their temples, mosques, or gurudwaras; this is our temple and mosque.’
    Buta Singh made this comment to his colleagues sitting in a circle in the verandah of the Deputy Commissioner’s house. They had all been told the evening before to present themselves at 10 a.m. sharp. ‘I would like to know what the Sahib would say if this were Christmas Day,’ he added.
    His colleagues refused to be provoked.
    ‘They are our rulers,’ exclaimed one. ‘What they order we obey.’
    ‘I agree with Sardar Buta Singh,’ said another. ‘But who is to bell the cat?’
    ‘Sardar Sahib, you are the seniormost amongst us. Why don’t you tell the Deputy Commissioner not to summon us on religious holidays?’ asked Wazir Chand with a smile. He had a way of talking to people which made them feel small or stupid; Buta Singh found his tone particularly irritating. He did not mind the attempt to trip him — that was fair according to the rules of the game — but he objected to being taken to be so simple as to fall into so obvious a trap.
    ‘I am quite willing to tell the Sahib; I don’t care,’ answered Buta Singh. ‘Don’t you know that I told the last Deputy Commissioner? He kept sending for me on every religious festival saying, “Duty first, duty first.” I told him plainly: “Sahib, duty or no duty, I am going to the gurudwara. If you do not like it,