‘Sir, it is like this –’ began Sandeep Lahiri.
But Jha did not let him continue. ‘You are a servant of the government,’ said Jha fiercely, ‘and the Congress Party runs the government. You will do as we tell you.’ He adjusted the white cap on his head and hitched up his dhoti under the table.
‘Mmm,’ said Sandeep Lahiri in a noncommittal voice, donning a frown as perplexed and silly as his smile.
Realizing that he was making no headway, Jha decided on a conciliatory and persuasive tack. ‘Congress Party is the party of Independence,’ he said. ‘Without Congress there would be no Independence Day.’
‘True, true, very true,’ said the Sub-Divisional Officer, nodding his head in gratified agreement. ‘The party of Gandhi,’ he added.
This comment caused geniality to flood back into Jha’s ample frame.
‘So we understand each other?’ he said, eagerly.
‘I hope, Sir, that we always will – that no misunderstanding can ever make its way into our relations,’ replied Sandeep Lahiri.
‘We are two bullocks of one yoke,’ said Jha dreamily, thinking of the Congress election symbol. ‘Party and Government pulling together.’
‘Mmm,’ said Sandeep Lahiri, the dangerously silly smile appearing again on his face in order to mask his Laskian doubts.
Jha frowned. ‘How much do you think you will collect?’ he asked the young man.
‘I don’t know, Sir, I haven’t done this sort of collecting before.’
‘Let us say, five hundred rupees. So we will get two hundred and fifty, you will get two hundred and fifty – and everyone will be satisfied.’
‘Sir, you see, I am in a difficult position,’ said Sandeep Lahiri, biting the bullet.
This time Jha said nothing, simply staring at the presumptuous young fool
‘If I give you some of the money,’ continued Sandeep Lahiri, ‘the Socialist Party will want some, the KMPP –’
‘Yes, yes, I know you have visited Mahesh Kapoor. Did he ask for money?’
‘No, Sir –’
‘Then what is the problem?’
‘But, Sir, to be fair –’
‘Fair!’ Jha could not mask his contempt for the word.
‘To be fair, Sir, we would have to give an equal amount to all these parties – to the Communist Party, to the Bharatiya Jan Sangh, to the Ram Rajya Parishad, to the Hindu Mahasabha, to the Revolutionary Socialist Party –’
‘What!’ burst out Jha. ‘What?’ He swallowed. ‘What? You are comparing us to the Socialist Party?’ He hitched up his dhoti once again.
‘Well, Sir –’
‘To the Muslim League?’
‘Certainly, Sir, why not? The Congress is just one of many parties. In this respect they are all the same.’
Jha, utterly outraged and nonplussed, the image of the Muslim League spinning like a Divali firework through his head, glared at Sandeep Lahiri.
‘You equate us with the other parties?’ he asked, his voice trembling with anger that was almost certainly unfeigned.
Sandeep Lahiri was silent.
‘In that case,’ continued Jha, ‘I will show you. I will show you what the Congress means. I will make sure that you are not able to raise any funds. Not one paisa will you be able to get. You will see, you will see.’
Sandeep did not say anything.
‘Now I have nothing to say,’ continued Jha, his right hand gripping a light blue glass egg that acted as a paperweight. ‘But we will see, we will see.’
‘Well, yes, Sir, we will see,’ said Sandeep, getting up. Jha did not get up from his chair. Turning at the door Sandeep aimed his weak smile at the furious Congressman in a final attempt at goodwill. The Congressman did not smile back.
14.4
SANDEEP LAHIRI, deciding that there was not much time to spare, and fearing that Jha was quite likely right in his estimate of his fund-gathering abilities, went that afternoon to the marketplace in Rudhia dressed in his khaki shirt and shorts, and with his pith helmet on his head. A small crowd gathered around him because it was not obvious what he was doing there and because, in any case, the visit of the SDO was a notable event.
When a couple of shopkeepers asked him what they could do for him, Sandeep Lahiri said, ‘I am collecting funds for the Independence Day celebration, and have been authorized to ask the public for contributions. Would you like to contribute something?’
The shopkeepers looked at each other, and simultaneously, as if by previous consultation, each took out a five-rupee note. Lahiri was known to be an honest man and had used no pressure of any kind, but it was probably best to contribute, they thought, when he asked them to, even if it was to be spent on a government sponsored event.