A Suitable Boy(387)

Dr Kishen Chand Seth immediately flew into a rage. He raised his cane threateningly, and if Parvati had not restrained him, he would certainly have used it. The policemen, who knew Dr Seth’s reputation, were very apologetic.

‘We have orders to requisition this car, Sir,’ they said.

‘You – what?’ spluttered Dr Seth. ‘Get out, get out, get out of my sight before I –’ He was at a loss for words. Nothing seemed severe enough retribution for their gall.

‘Because of the Pul Mela –’

‘All superstition, all superstition!’ said Dr Kishen Chand Seth. ‘Let me go at once.’ He took out his key.

The Sub-Inspector apologetically took it from his hand in an unexpected and skilful movement. Dr Kishen Chand Seth almost had a heart attack.

‘You – you dare –’ he gasped. ‘Teutonic frightfulness –’ he added in English. This was worse than bayoneting babies.

‘Sir, there has been a disaster at the Pul Mela, and we –’

‘What nonsense! Had there been any such thing, I would certainly have heard of it. I am a doctor – a radiologist. You can’t requisition a doctor’s car. Let me see your written orders.’

‘– we have orders to requisition any vehicle within a mile of the pipal tree.’

‘I am just here to see a film, this car is not actually here,’ said Dr Kishen Chand Seth, pointing to his Buick. ‘Give me my keys back.’ He reached out for them.

‘Kishy, don’t shout, darling,’ said Parvati. ‘Perhaps there really has been some disaster. We’ve been seeing a film for the last three hours.’

‘I assure you, Sir, there has been,’ said the policeman. ‘There have been a great many deaths and injuries. I am requisitioning this car on the express instructions of the Home Minister of Purva Pradesh. Only cars of active – non-retired – doctors are exempt. We will take good care of it.’

This last remark was just a soothing formula. Dr Kishen Chand Seth realized immediately that his car would be virtually disabled through misuse and overuse. If what this idiot was saying was true, there would be sand in the engine and blood on the calfskin upholstery by the time he got it back. But had there really been such a disaster? Or was this just another example of post-Independence rot? People were shockingly high-handed these days.

‘You!? he shouted at a passer-by.

Taken aback, not accustomed to being addressed in this manner, the man, a respectable clerk in a government department, stopped in his tracks and turned a face of polite, perplexed inquiry towards Dr Kishen Chand Seth.

‘Me?’

‘Yes, you. Has there been a disaster at the Pul Mela? Hundreds dead?’ The last query was pronounced with scornful disbelief.

‘Yes, Sahib, there has been,’ said the man. ‘I heard the rumour, then heard it on the radio. It is certainly true. Even the official estimate is in the hundreds.’

‘All right – take it,’ said Dr Kishen Chand Seth. ‘But mind – no blood on the seats – no blood on the seats. I won’t have it. Do you hear me?’

‘Yes, Sir. Rest assured that we will return it to you within a week. Your address, Sir?’

‘Everyone knows my address,’ said Dr Kishen Chand Seth airily. And he stepped out onto the street, waving his cane. He was going to requisition a taxi – or some other car – to take him home.





11.25


L.N. AGARWAL was not popular with the students of Brahmpur. He was disliked both for his authoritarian ways and for his manipulativeness on the Executive Council of Brahmpur University. And the pronouncements of most of the political parties on the university campus were virulently anti-Agarwal in tone.

The Home Minister knew this, and his request for student volunteers to help with the aftermath of the disaster was therefore phrased as a request from the Chief Minister. Most of the students were not in Brahmpur, since it was the vacation. But many of those who were there responded. They would almost certainly have responded even if the request had been signed by the Home Minister.

Kabir, being the son of a faculty member, and therefore living close to the university, was one of the first to hear of the appeal. He and his younger brother Hashim went to the central control room that had been set up in the Fort. The sun was about to set over the city of tents. Apart from the lights and cooking fires there were a number of larger fires here and there, where bodies were being cremated. The loudspeakers continued their endless litany of names, and would continue to do so throughout the night.

They were allocated to different first aid centres. The other volunteers were exhausted, and glad to be relieved. They could get some food and a couple of hours’ sleep before they were called back to duty again.