A Suitable Boy(511)
This last sentence took Mahesh Kapoor by surprise. ‘The calendar?’ he asked, frowning at Sharma.
‘Here – let me show you –’ The Chief Minister took a small brown diary out of his kurta pocket. He pointed to the beginning of October. ‘The ten days of Moharram and the ten days leading up to Dussehra almost coincide this year. And Gandhi Jayanti falls within the same period.’ He closed the diary and laughed humourlessly. ‘Rama, Muhammad, and Gandhiji may all have been apostles of peace – but in combination there could be nothing more explosive. And if in addition there is war with Pakistan, and the only cohesive party in India is bitterly divided within itself – I fear to think of what will happen throughout the country between the Hindus and the Muslims. It will be as bad as the Partition riots.’
Mahesh Kapoor did not reply. But he could not deny to himself that he had been deeply affected by the arguments of the Chief Minister. When offered more tea, he accepted, and sat down on a cane chair. After a few minutes he said to his former chief, ‘I will think about what you have said.’ He was still holding Nehru’s letter in his hands. In fact, unconsciously, he had folded it lengthwise two or three times.
It was unfortunate that L.N. Agarwal should have chosen that very moment to visit the Chief Minister. As he walked across the lawn he noticed Mahesh Kapoor. Mahesh Kapoor nodded, but did not get up to greet him. He did not intend to be discourteous, but his thoughts were far away.
‘About Panditji’s letter –’ began L.N. Agarwal.
Sharma reached out for the letter, and Mahesh Kapoor handed it over in an absent manner. Agarwal frowned, obviously displeased that the letter had been shared with Mahesh Kapoor: Sharma appeared to be treating him as if he were still a member of his Cabinet, instead of the renegade that we was.
Perhaps sensing his thoughts, S.S. Sharma began to explain, rather apologetically: ‘I was just discussing with Kapoor Sahib the urgency of bringing Panditji back into full participation in the Congress. We cannot do without him, the country cannot do without him, and we must persuade him by any means we can. It is a time to close ranks. Don’t you agree?’
A look of disdain slowly formed on L.N. Agarwal’s face as he thought about this attitude: dependent, cringing, weak.
‘No,’ he said at last. ‘I do not agree. Tandonji has been democratically elected. He has constituted his own Working Committee, and it has managed very well for several months. Nehru has participated in its meetings; he has no right to try to change its membership now. That is not his prerogative. He claims to be a democrat; let him prove it by doing the right thing. He claims to believe in party discipline; he should abide by it. He claims to believe in unity; let him stand by his beliefs.’
S.S. Sharma closed his eyes. ‘That is all very well,’ he murmured. ‘But if Panditji –’
L.N. Agarwal almost exploded. ‘Panditji – Panditji – why should everyone go whimpering and pleading for everything to Nehru? Yes, he is a great leader – but are there no other great leaders in Congress? Does Prasad not exist? Does Pant not exist? Did Patel not exist?’ At the thought of Sardar Patel his voice almost choked with emotion. ‘Let us see what happens if he leaves us. He doesn’t have the least idea how to organize a campaign, how to gather funds, how to select candidates. And he will have no time, as Prime Minister, to storm the country – that is quite obvious. He has too much on his plate as it is, attempting to run it. Let him join Kidwai – he’ll get the Muslim vote all right. But we will see what else he gets.’
Mahesh Kapoor got up, nodded curtly to the Chief Minister, and began to walk away. The Chief Minister, distressed and annoyed by Agarwal’s explosion, made no attempt to stop him from going; Agarwal and Kapoor in one place did not form a happy combination.
It is like dealing with two refractory children, he thought. But he called out after Mahesh Kapoor: ‘Kapoor Sahib, please think about what I have said. We will talk about this again soon. I will come over to Prem Nivas.’
Then he turned to Agarwal and said, with displeased nasality: ‘An hour’s good work destroyed in a minute. Why are you going out of your way to antagonize him?’
L.N. Agarwal shook his head. ‘Everyone is afraid to speak his mind,’ he said. He reflected that matters in Purva Pradesh had become much clearer now that the leftists and secularists in Congress did not have Mahesh Kapoor’s fine kurta to cling to.
Instead of taking offence at the roughness of this last remark, S.S. Sharma said to him in a calmer voice: ‘Here is the letter. Read it through and tell me what steps you think are appropriate. Of course, we are located nowhere near the borders of Pakistan. Still, some measures may be necessary to control the more excitable newspapers – in the case of panic, I mean. Or incitement.’