‘You can’t say he intended that. He simply wanted to pass the bill into law.’
‘I don’t disagree with that,’ said Mahesh Kapoor, stirring his cup.
‘And he couldn’t hold his own MPs, let alone Parliament, together to pass it. Everyone knows what the President of India thinks of the bill. Even if Parliament had passed it, would he have signed it?
‘That is a separate issue,’ said Mahesh Kapoor.
‘You’re right about that,’ admitted Abdus Salaam. ‘The question in my mind, though, is one of grip and timing. Why place the bill before Parliament when there was so little time to argue it? A few discussions, a filibuster, and it was bound to die.’
Mahesh Kapoor nodded. He was thinking about something else too. It was the fortnight for the performance of shraadh, the rites to appease the spirits of one’s dead. Mahesh Kapoor could never be prevailed upon to perform these rites, and this upset Mrs Mahesh Kapoor. And immediately after this fortnight came the nights of the Ramlila leading up to the fiery celebration of Dussehra. This was the great Hindu festive season, and it would continue till Divali. Nehru could not possibly have chosen a worse time, psychologically speaking, to introduce a bill that attempted to upset Hindu law and transform Hindu society.
Abdus Salaam, after waiting for Mahesh Kapoor to speak, continued: ‘You saw what happened in the Assembly, you can see how the L.N. Agarwals of this world continue to operate. No matter what happens at the Centre, that is the shape of things to come in the states. At least, so I think. I do not see much changing. The people who have their hands on the party levers – people like Sharma and Agarwal – will not easily let Nehru prise them off. Look at how quickly they’re rushing to form their election committees and to start their selection of candidates in the states. Poor Nehru – he is like a rich merchant, who, after crossing the seas, is drowned in a little stream.’
Mahesh Kapoor frowned: ‘What on earth are you quoting from?’ he asked.
‘From a translation of your Mahabharata, Minister Sahib.’
‘Well, I wish you wouldn’t,’ said Mahesh Kapoor, annoyed. ‘I get enough of it at home without you – of all people – joining in.’
‘I was only making the point, Minister Sahib, that it is the conservatives, and not our liberal Prime Minister, despite his great victory, who are still in control. Or so I think.’
Abdus Salaam did not sound unduly distressed by what doubtless must have distressed him a good deal. If anything, he sounded lighthearted, as if the pleasure of expounding the logic of his scenario sufficiently counterpoised the grimness of the scenario itself.
And, Mahesh Kapoor reflected, marvelling a little at the young man’s attitude, things were, if looked at clearly, quite grim. Less than a week after Nehru had defeated Tandon – one of the two crucial resolutions for which had been sponsored by a party boss from West Bengal – the Congress Executive Committee and Election Committee from the state of West Bengal had with miraculous haste begun to deal with the applications for the nomination of candidates. Their purpose was clear: to forestall the effects of any change from the top, and to present the Centre with a fait accompli: a slate of candidates for the General Elections prepared and in place before any possible secessionists could return to the Congress fold and make a bid for candidature. The state Congress bosses had had to be restrained from carrying out their designs by the Calcutta High Court.
In Purva Pradesh too, the State Election Committee of the Congress had been elected with astonishing speed. Under the Congress constitution this had to consist of the President of the State Congress Committee and not more than eight nor less than four other members. If such haste had really been necessary in order to cope with urgent preliminary work, the entrenched powers could have contented themselves with electing a minimum of four members. But by electing all eight and not leaving a single spot vacant for anyone who might later return to the Congress, they had made it clear that, whatever they said in public in deference to Nehru’s wishes, they were not serious about wishing the seceders to come back. For it was only through the activities of the Election Committee that Congressmen belonging to various groups could hope to get their due share of candidates – and through them their share of privilege and power.
Mahesh Kapoor could see all this, but he still had faith – or perhaps hope would describe his feeling better – that Nehru would ensure that those who were ideologically close to him would not find themselves displaced and marginalized in the states. This was what he now suggested to Abdus Salaam. Since Nehru faced no one who could pose the least threat to himself in the party, he would surely ensure that the legislatures of the nation would not be filled for the next five years by those who paid no more than lip-service to his ideals.