A Suitable Boy(132)

Looking with calm hatred first at Abdus Salaam, then at Begum Abida Khan, he said: ‘I can merely reiterate – wait for the report.’

A member asked: ‘Why were so many police diverted to Misri Mandi for a totally unnecessary show of force when they were really needed in Chowk?’

‘Wait for the report,’ said the Home Minister, glaring around the House, as if challenging the members to goad him further.

Begum Abida Khan stood up. ‘Has the Government taken any action against the District Magistrate responsible for this unprovoked firing?’ she demanded.

‘The question does not arise.’

‘If the much-anticipated report shows that the firing was uncalled for and irregular, does Government plan to take any steps in this regard?’

‘That will be seen in due course. I should think it might.’

‘What steps does Government intend to take?’

‘Proper and adequate steps.’

‘Has Government taken any such steps in similar situations in the past?’

‘It has.’

‘What are those steps that have been taken?’

‘Such steps as were considered reasonable and proper.’

Begum Abida Khan looked at him as she would at a snake, wounded but still evading the final blow by twisting its head from side to side. Well, she was not done with him yet.

‘Will the honourable Minister name the wards or neighbourhoods in which restrictions have now been placed with regard to the possession of cold steel? Have these restrictions been placed as the result of the recent firing? If so, why were they not placed earlier?’

The Home Minister looked at the pipal tree in the great seal, and said: ‘Government presumes that the honourable member means by the phrase “cold steel” objects such as swords, daggers, axes, and similar weapons.’

‘Household knives have also been wrested by the police from housewives,’ said Begum Abida Khan in more of a jeer than a statement. ‘Well, what are the neighbourhoods?’

‘Chowk, Hazrat Mahal, and Captainganj,’ said L.N. Agarwal.

‘Not Misri Mandi?’

‘No.’

‘Although that was the site of the heaviest police presence?’ persisted Begum Abida Khan.

‘Police had to be shifted in large numbers to the real trouble spots –’ began L.N. Agarwal.

He stopped abruptly, realizing too late how he had exposed himself by what he had started to say.

‘So the honourable Minister admits –’ began Begum Abida Khan, her eyes gleaming triumphantly.

‘The Government admits nothing. The report will detail everything,’ said the Home Minister, appalled by the confession she had elicited from him.

Begum Abida Khan smiled contemptuously, and decided that the reactionary, trigger-happy, anti-Muslim bully had just condemned himself out of his own mouth sufficiently for much further skewering to be productive. She let her questions taper away.

‘Why were these restrictions on cold steel imposed?’

‘In order to prevent crimes and incidents of violence.’

‘Incidents?’

‘Such as riots by inflamed mobs,’ he cried out in weary rage.

‘How long will these restrictions continue?’ asked Begum Abida Khan, almost laughing.

‘Till they are withdrawn.’

‘And when does the Government propose to withdraw these restrictions?’

‘As soon as the situation permits.’

Begum Abida Khan gently sat down.

There followed a notice for adjournment of the House in order to discuss the issue of the firing, but the Speaker disposed of this quickly enough. Adjournment motions were only granted in the most exceptional cases of crisis or emergency, where discussion could brook no delay; to grant them or not was in the Speaker’s absolute discretion. The subject of the police firing, even had it been such a subject – which, to his mind, it was not – had been sufficiently aired already. The questions of that remarkable, almost unreinable woman had virtually become a debate.

The Speaker went on to the next items on the day’s business : first, the announcement of bills passed by the state legislature that had received the assent of the Governor of the state or the President of India; next, the most important matter on the agenda for the entire session: the continuing debate on the Zamindari Abolition Bill.

But L.N. Agarwal did not stay to listen to discussions on the bill. As soon as the notice for an adjournment motion had been rejected by the Speaker, he fled – not directly across the well to the exit but along an aisle to the perimeter gallery, and then along the dark, wood–panelled wall. His tension and animus were palpable in the way he walked. He was unconsciously crushing his order papers in his hand. Several members tried to talk to him, to sympathize with him. He brushed them off. He walked unseeingly to the exit, and made straight for the bathroom.