This had some effect, but by the time the vote had reached 15,000 there was a tremendous hubbub. Some of the more feisty Congress workers had started challenging entire ballot-boxes. Mahesh Kapoor told them sharply to stop their antics. But his face betrayed his dismay, for by now he feared he would lose. The other side had begun cheering in anticipation of surpassing the magic number. They did not have long to wait.
There were still several of Waris’s boxes left to count when the tally reached 15,576. Waris jumped onto a table and shouted for joy. He was raised high on the shoulders of his supporters, and outside the District Headquarters they began to shout to the well-known pattern:
‘The MLA from Baitar, who should he be?’
‘Waris Khan Sahib, one such as he!’
Waris, delighted to win, delighted to have ‘Khan Sahib’ appended to his name, and delighted to have avenged the young Nawabzada, was grinning away, having in the flush of victory forgotten his dirty trick with the posters.
He was soon brought literally down to earth by the District Magistrate, who threatened to throw him out of the Collectorate unless his supporters stopped the ruckus. Waris calmed his followers down, and told one or two of them: ‘Let’s see, let’s see, now that I’m an MLA, who gets thrown out of the Collectorate first, him or me.’
Several Congressmen now urged Mahesh Kapoor, who so far had not lodged a complaint or an election petition, to do so immediately – to challenge the election result. It was clear that, even if nowhere else, in the hinterland of Baitar town the false and flimsy posters announcing Firoz’s death had had a devastating effect in getting people out of their huts and houses to vote for Waris.
But Mahesh Kapoor, bitter and disillusioned, and not wishing to create further bitterness, refused to lodge an election petition. Waris had got 16,748 votes; the difference was too great to justify even requesting a re-count. After a while he went over to congratulate his rival; he looked shattered, the more so because of his premonition that morning. Waris accepted his congratulations graciously and calmly. Victory had wiped out his sense of shame.
Only after the counting of all the candidates’ votes was complete did the District Magistrate officially declare Waris Khan the winner. The radio announced the news in the evening. The final result was as follows:
SALIMPUR-CUM-BAITAR
(District Rudhia, Purva Pradesh)
LEGISLATIVE ASSEMBLY ELECTION
No. of seats:1
No. of candidates: total: 10;
contesting: 10
No. of electors: 66,918
Total no. of valid votes polled:
40,327
Voting rate: 60.26%
NAME (in English
alphabetical order) PARTY/
INDEPENDENT VOTES % OF
VOTES
1. Iqbal Ahmad Independent 608
1.51
2. Mir Shamsher Ali Independent 481
1.19
3. Mohammed Hussain KMPP 1,533
3.80
4. Shanti Prasad Jha Ram Rajya Parishad 1,154
2.86
5. Mahesh Kapoor Congress 15,575
38.62
6. Waris Mohammad Khan Independent 16,748
41.53
7. Mahmud Nasir Communist 774
1.92
8. Madan Mohan Pandey Independent 1,159
2.87
9. Ramlal Sinha Socialist 696
1.73
10. Ramratan Srivastava Jan Sangh 1,599
3.97
Name of successful candidate: Waris Mohammad Khan
18.14
AT Baitar Fort that night there was jubilation.
Waris had an immense bonfire built in the grounds, ordered a dozen sheep and a dozen goats to be slaughtered, invited everyone who had helped him or voted for him to come to the feast, and then added that even the bastards who had voted against him were welcome to join in. He was cautious enough not to serve alcohol, but he himself greeted his guests royally drunk, and made a speech – he was by now proficient at speechmaking – about the nobility of the house of Baitar, the excellence of the electorate, the glory of God and the wonder of Waris.
About what he planned to do in the State Assembly he was silent; but in his own mind he was certain that he would learn the legislative ropes as quickly as he had mastered the pulling of electoral strings.
The oily munshi sanctioned all the expenses he demanded, had the grand archway of the Fort festooned with flowers, and greeted Waris with folded hands and tears in his eyes. He had always loved Waris, he had always known of the hidden greatness in him, and now at last his prayers for him had been answered. He fell at his feet and begged Waris for his blessings, and Waris, slurred and benevolent, said: ‘All right, you sister-fucker, I bless you. Now get up or I’ll be sick all over you.’
18.15
MAHESH KAPOOR sat in his garden at Prem Nivas one afternoon a few days after the count. He was talking to Abdus Salaam, his former Parliamentary Secretary. He looked very weary. The many implications of his loss were coming home to him. He felt that his occupation was gone, the thing that gave his life vigour and direction and the capacity to do good. His wing of the state Congress Party would have to do without his guidance in the legislature. His loss of power affected not only his own pride but would affect his ability to help his son, soon to be charged with he knew not what. The loss of his friendship with the Nawab Sahib was another bitter blow; he felt sad and ashamed of what had happened to Firoz – and to the Nawab Sahib himself. And every moment he spent in Prem Nivas, especially in the garden, could not fail to remind him of the loss of his wife.