Three Bargains: A Novel Read Online Free PDF Page B

thinking . . . yes, I will build a small ashram, where people can have a peaceful place to be near God.”
    He gathered his sling bag and Madan sensed he was anxious to leave the room. “I’m so grateful. You’ve done a big thing for us. Tomorrow I will do five thousand and one satyanarayan pujas for you and your family . . .” He was nearly at the door now.
    “You’re right, Pandit-ji, to think of doing some good with the money.” Avtaar Singh swung his chair toward Madan.
    “This boy”—he placed a hand on Madan’s shoulder—“can read English, Pandit-ji. Lived in the village all his life, but picked up English.” Pandit Bansi Lal gave a disbelieving laugh.
    “It’s true,” Avtaar Singh said. “I’ve seen it myself. Shall he read something for you?”
    “No, no . . . of course not. If you say so, it must be true.” Pandit Bansi Lal’s hand was on the door now, ready to push it open.
    “You know that school I started a few years ago, Gorapur Academy near Ambala Road?” Avtaar Singh said. “You know it, you are there for Children’s Day every year,” Avtaar Singh went on calmly, as though he were not speaking to the pandit’s back. “We need a student like this, someone who will make a name for Gorapur, who will make us known not only in Haryana but all over the country. We should be famous for more than your temple. I’ve been thinking of adding senior classes, renovating the auditorium.” Avtaar Singh smiled at Madan. “And now this young man will be going there soon. Fifty thousand would be a good donation toward his education and would help the school. Ashrams, Pandit-ji, can wait.”
    Pandit Bansi Lal turned around to face them, turned again to the door and then back, struggling with the folds of his pristine dhoti. His eyes bore down on Madan and he recoiled as if a mangy jackal had appeared before him. If there was anything else Pandit Bansi Lal was going to say, it did not see the light of that room. “You are right as always,” was all that escaped his tightly compressed lips, and without another glance, he took his leave.

    Madan tilted back in his chair. He felt like he had run a hundred times to the market and back.
    “Did all that scare you?” Avtaar Singh eyed him, holding the forgotten box of pinnis under Madan’s nose again. Madan did not look down at the box, but at Avtaar Singh.
    The world was full of trembling men. There were the men who trembled in front of his father and then all of them who came here and trembled before this man, even when he smiled at them. This man who sat beside him, their knees almost touching, and his head attentively inclined toward him.
    He picked up a pinni, kept his eyes on Avtaar Singh and shook his head resolutely. “No,” he said, and did not add saab to that.
    “Take another,” said Avtaar Singh, and Madan had a pinni in one hand and another almost to his mouth when his father came back.
    “We got all the information. Looks like most of the money is still there. What should we do about him?” said his father.
    “He will end up in a hospital if we let him go?”
    “Yes, there will be unnecessary questions . . .”
    “Better to finish this business once and for all. Who does he have at home? Anyone to follow up with the police?”
    “Nobody. He’s quite useless. We will take care of the brother tonight, what can anyone say? The inspector can handle any questions . . . if they come up.”
    “Do it,” said Avtaar Singh.
    Madan’s father turned to leave, but not before Madan caught the hard stare as he took in the sight of them still sitting side by side at the desk.
    “Eat, eat,” said Avtaar Singh. Madan bit into the dense sugary flour, chewing slowly, each bite heavy and satisfying. I will never eat anything as rich as this pinni , he thought.
    He smiled up at Avtaar Singh reading some papers on his desk and settled back in his chair. As he worked his way through both pinnis, he didn’t let the faint noises from the other