‘Why?’ demanded Maan. ‘Why?’
‘I do not know,’ said the watchman.
‘Please find out,’ said Maan, slipping a two-rupee note into the man’s hand.
The watchman took the note and said : ‘She is not well.’
‘But you knew that before,’ said Maan, a bit aggrieved. ‘That means I must go and see her. She will be wanting to see me.’
‘No,’ said the watchman, standing before the gate. ‘She will not be wanting to see you.’
This struck Maan as distinctly unfriendly. ‘Now look,’ he said, ‘you have to let me in.’ He tried to shoulder his way past the watchman, but the watchman resisted, and there was a scuffle.
Voices were heard from inside, and Bibbo emerged. When she saw what was happening, her hand flew to her mouth. Then she gasped out: ‘Phool Singh – stop it! Dagh Sahib, please – please – what will Begum Sahiba say?’
This thought brought Maan to his senses, and he brushed down his kurta, looking rather shamefaced. Neither he nor the watchman was injured. The watchman continued to look entirely matter-of-fact about the whole incident.
‘Bibbo, is she very ill?’ asked Maan in vicarious pain.
‘Ill?’ said Bibbo. ‘Who’s ill?’
‘Saeeda Bai, of course.’
‘She’s not in the least ill,’ said Bibbo, laughing. Then, as she caught the watchman’s eye, she added : ‘At least not until half an hour ago, when she had a sharp pain around her heart. She can’t see you – or anyone.’
‘Who’s with her?’ demanded Maan.
‘No one, that is, well, as I‘ve just said – no one.’
‘Someone is with her,’ said Maan fiercely, with a sharp stab of jealousy.
‘Dagh Sahib,’ said Bibbo, not without sympathy, ‘it is not like you to be like this.’
‘Like what?’ said Maan.
‘Jealous. Begum Sahiba has her old admirers – she cannot cast them off. This house depends on their generosity.’
‘Is she angry with me?’ asked Maan.
‘Angry? Why?’ asked Bibbo blankly.
‘Because I didn’t come that day as I had promised,’ said Maan. ‘I tried – I just couldn’t get away.’
‘I don’t think she was angry with you,’ said Bibbo. ‘But she was certainly angry with your messenger.’
‘With Firoz?’ said Maan, astonished.
‘Yes, with the Nawabzada.’
‘Did he deliver a note?’ asked Maan. He reflected with a little envy that Firoz, who could read and write Urdu, could thereby communicate in writing with Saeeda Bai.
‘I think so,’ said Bibbo, a little vaguely.
‘And why was she angry?’ asked Maan.
‘I don’t know,’ said Bibbo with a light laugh. ‘I must go in now.’ And she left Maan standing on the pavement looking very agitated.
Saeeda Bai had in fact been greatly displeased to see Firoz, and was annoyed at Maan for having sent him. Yet, when she received Maan’s message that he could not come on the appointed evening, she could not help feeling disappointed and sad. And this fact too annoyed her. She could not afford to get emotionally attached to this light-hearted, light-headed, and probably light-footed young man. She had a profession to keep up, and he was definitely in the nature of a distraction, however pleasant. And so she began to realize that it might be a good thing if he stayed away for a while. Since she was entertaining a patron this evening, she had instructed the watchman to keep everyone else – and particularly Maan – away.
When Bibbo later reported to her what had happened, Saeeda Bai’s reaction was irritation at what she saw as Maan’s interference in her professional life: he had no claim on her time or what she did with it. But later still, talking to the parakeet, she said, ‘Dagh Sahib, Dagh Sahib’ quite a number of times, her expression ranging from sexual passion to flirtatiousness to tenderness to indifference to irritation to anger. The parakeet was receiving a more elaborate education in the ways of the world than most of his fellows.
*
Maan had wandered off, wondering what to do with his time, incapable of getting Saeeda Bai out of his mind, but craving some, any, activity that could distract him at least for a moment. He remembered that he’d said he would drop by to see the Rajkumar of Marh, and so he made his way to the lodgings not far from the university that the Rajkumar had taken with six or seven other students, four of whom were still in Brahmpur at the beginning of the summer vacation. These students – two the scions of other petty princedoms, and one the son of a large zamindar – were not short of money. Most of them got a couple of hundred rupees a month to spend as they liked. This would have been just about equal to Pran’s entire salary, and these students looked upon their unwealthy lecturers with easy contempt.