Page 135 - Train to Pakistan

returned. There are only a dozen Pakistani soldiers on the train. In the dark, they
will not know where to shoot. They will not have time to load their guns. If they
stop the train, we will take care of them and kill many more into the bargain.’

It seemed a perfect plan, without the slightest danger of retaliation. Everyone
was pleased.

‘It is already past midnight,’ said the boy, folding up the map. ‘You’d all
better get some sleep. Tomorrow morning we will go to the bridge and decide
where each one is to be posted. The Sikhs are the chosen of God. Victory be to

our God.’
‘Victory to our God,’ answered the others.
The meeting dispersed. Visitors found room in the gurdwara. So did Malli and

his gang. Many of the villagers had gone away to their homes lest they get
implicated in the crime by being present at the temple when the conspiracy was
being hatched. The lambardar took two of the villagers with him and left for the

police station at Chundunnugger.

‘Well, Inspector Sahib, let them kill,’ said Hukum Chand wearily. ‘Let everyone
kill. Just ask for help from other stations and keep a record of the messages you
send. We must be able to prove that we did our best to stop them.’

Hukum Chand looked a tired man. One week had aged him beyond
recognition. The white at the roots of his hair had become longer. He had been
shaving in a hurry and had cut himself in several places. His cheeks sagged and

folds of flesh fell like dewlaps about his chin. He kept rubbing the corners of his
eyes for the yellow which was not there.

‘What am I to do?’ he wailed. ‘The whole world has gone mad. Let it go mad!
What does it matter if another thousand get killed? We will get a bulldozer and
bury them as we did the others. We may not even need the bulldozer if this time
it is going to be on the river. Just throw the corpses in the water. What is a few

hundred out of four hundred million anyway? An epidemic takes ten times the
number and no one even bothers.’

The subinspector knew that this was not the real Hukum Chand. He was only
trying to get the melancholia out of his system. The subinspector waited
patiently, and then dropped a feeler.
‘Yes, sir. I am keeping a record of all that is happening and what we are

doing. Last evening, we had to evacuate Chundunnugger. I could not rely on the