Page 104 - Train to Pakistan

Mano Majra

When it was discovered that the train had brought a full load of corpses, a heavy

brooding silence descended on the village. People barricaded their doors and
many stayed up all night talking in whispers. Everyone felt his neighbour’s hand
against him, and thought of finding friends and allies. They did not notice the

clouds blot out the stars nor smell the cool damp breeze. When they woke up in
the morning and saw it was raining, their first thoughts were about the train and
the burning corpses. The whole village was on the roofs looking towards the

station.
The train had disappeared as mysteriously as it had come. The station was
deserted. The soldier’s tents were soaked with water and looked depressing.

There was no smouldering fire nor smoke. In fact there was no sign of life—or
death. Still people watched: perhaps there would be another train with more
corpses!

By afternoon the clouds had rolled away to the west. Rain had cleared the
atmosphere and one could see for miles around. Villagers ventured forth from
their homes to find out if anyone knew more than they. Then they went back to

their roofs. Although it had stopped raining, no one could be seen on the station
platform or in the passenger shed or the military camp. A row of vultures sat on
the parapet of the station building and kites were flying in circles high above it.

The head constable, with his posse of policemen and prisoners, was spotted a
long way away from the village. People shouted the information to each other.
The lambardar was summoned.

When the head constable arrived with his party, there was quite a crowd
assembled under the peepul tree near the temple.