Page 118 - Train to Pakistan
P. 118

their bullock carts loaded with charpais, rolls of bedding, tin trunks, kerosene oil
               tins, earthen pitchers and brass utensils. The rest of Mano Majra came out to see
               them off.

                  The two officers and the lambardar were the last to come out of the village.
               The jeep followed them. They were talking and gesticulating animatedly. Most
               of the talking was between the Muslim officer and the lambardar.

                  ‘I have no arrangement to take all this luggage with bullock carts, beds, pots
               and pans. This convoy is not going to Pakistan by road. We are taking them to
               the Chundunnugger refugee camp and from there by train to Lahore. They can

               only take their clothes, bedding, cash and jewellery. Tell them to leave
               everything else here. You can look after it.’
                  The news that the Mano Majra Muslims were going to Pakistan came as a

               surprise. The lambardar had believed they would only go to the refugee came for
               a few days and then return.
                  ‘No, Sahib, we cannot say anything,’ replied the lambardar. ‘If it was for a

               day or two we could look after their belongings. As you are going to Pakistan, it
               may be many months before they return. Property is a bad thing; it poisons
               people’s minds. No, we will not touch anything. We will only look after their

               houses.’
                  The Muslim officer was irritated. ‘I have no time to argue. You see yourself
               that all I have is a dozen trucks. I cannot put buffaloes and bullock carts in

               them.’
                  ‘No, Sahib,’ retorted the lambardar stubbornly. ‘You can say what you like
               and you can be angry with us, but we will not touch our brothers’ properties.

               You want us to become enemies?’
                  ‘Wah, wah, Lambardar Sahib,’ answered the Muslim laughing loudly.
               ‘Shabash! Yesterday you wanted to kill them, today you call them brothers. You

               may change your mind again tomorrow.’
                  ‘Do not taunt us like this, Captain Sahib. We are brothers and will always
               remain brothers.’

                  ‘All right, all right, Lambardara.You are brothers,’ the officer said. ‘I grant
               you that, but I still cannot take all this stuff. You consult the Sardar Officer and

               your fellow villagers about it. I will deal with the Muslims.’
                  The Muslim officer got on the jeep and addressed the crowd. He chose his
               words carefully.
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