‘I believe it was,’ said Pran, slowly and wonderingly, as he shook Professor Mishra’s pale and perspiring hands.
18.12
MAHESH KAPOOR was at the Collectorate at Rudhia when the count for the Salimpur-cum-Baitar election opened. He had got there late, but the District Magistrate had himself been unavoidably delayed; owing to a problem with the ignition his jeep had broken down. The counting officers, having grouped all the ballot-boxes of each candidate together, now began with the first candidate, who was an Independent named Iqbal Ahmad. They emptied one of his ballot-boxes onto each of several tables, and – watched carefully by the counting agents of all the candidates – began simultaneously to count his votes.
Secrecy was enjoined on everyone under the canopy, but of course nothing was secret, and news soon leaked out that Iqbal Ahmad was doing as badly as expected. Since the ballot-papers in the first General Election were not stamped by the voter but simply placed in a candidate’s box, very few ballot-papers were rejected as spoiled. Counting continued briskly, and, had it begun on time, should have been over by midnight. But it was now eleven o’clock, everyone was exhausted, and the Congress candidate’s ballot-boxes had not yet been completely counted. He was making an unexpectedly good showing: over 14,000 votes, and several more boxes to go.
In some of Mahesh Kapoor’s boxes, astonishingly, there was even, in addition to the ballot-papers, a little red powder and a few coins. Presumably, some pious peasants, seeing the holy cattle featured on his box, had placed small offerings inside the slot together with their vote.
While the count was continuing under the careful supervision of the District Magistrate and the Sub-Divisional Officer, Mahesh Kapoor walked over to Waris, who was looking very worried, and said: ‘Adaab arz, Waris Sahib.’
‘Adaab arz,’ replied Waris pugnaciously. The ‘Sahib’ had surely been ironic.
‘Is everything all right with Firoz?’ It was said without any rancour, but Waris felt a burning sense of shame; he thought immediately of the pink fliers.
‘Why do you ask?’ he demanded.
‘I wanted to know,’ said Mahesh Kapoor sorrowfully. ‘I have very little news of him, and I thought you would. I do not see the Nawab Sahib anywhere. Does he plan to come?’
‘He is not a candidate,’ said Waris bluntly. ‘Yes, Firoz is fine.’ He turned his eyes downwards, unable to look Mahesh Kapoor in the face.
‘I am glad,’ said Mahesh Kapoor. He was about to send his good wishes, then thought better of it and turned away.
A little before midnight, the results stood as follows:
1. Iqbal Ahmad Independent
608
2. Mir Shamsher Ali Independent
481
3. Mohammed Hussain KMPP
1,533
4. Shanti Prasad jha Ram Rajya Parishad
1,154
5. Mahesh Kapoor Congress
15,575
At midnight, just after Mahesh Kapoor’s boxes had all been counted, the District Magistrate, as Returning Officer, declared the poll temporarily suspended as part of a nationwide mark of respect for King George VI. He had told the candidates and their counting agents a couple of hours earlier that he had orders to this effect, and asked for their patience. The suspense was terrible, especially since Waris Khan came immediately after Mahesh Kapoor alphabetically; but, owing to the timely warning, there were no protests. He got the counted ballots and the uncounted ballot-boxes locked up separately under his own seal in the treasury, and announced that they would be unlocked and the count resumed on the 8th of February.
The results so far determined were bound to leak out, and in both Brahmpur and the constituency most people made the same sort of reckoning that Professor Mishra’s informant had. Mahesh Kapoor too was optimistic. He stayed on his farm at Rudhia, talking to his farm manager as he walked around the wheat fields.
On the morning of the 8th, he woke up with a sense of freshness and thankfulness, a sense that at least one of his burdens had been lifted off his shoulders.
18.13
THE count proceeded once more, and by the time Waris’s vote had reached 10,000, it began to appear that the contest would in fact be close. Apparently, in the areas immediately surrounding Baitar town, the voting rate had been far in excess of fifty-five per cent – a figure which, to go by other elections whose results had been announced earlier in the week, was itself very high.
By the time it had reached 14,000 and there were a number of ballot-boxes still to be counted, a great sense of unease overtook the Congress camp. The District Magistrate had to tell everyone to be quiet and to let his counting agents proceed; if not, he would have to suspend the count again.