Page 136 - Train to Pakistan

army nor my own constables. The best I could do was to ward off the attackers
by telling them that Pakistan troops were in the town. That frightened them and I
got the Muslims out in the nick of time. When the attackers discovered the trick,
they looted and burned every Muslim house they could. I believe some of them

planned to come to the police station for me, but better counsel prevailed. So you
see, sir, all I got was abuse from the Muslims for evicting them from their

homes; abuse from the Sikhs for having robbed them of the loot they were
expecting. Now I suppose the government will also abuse me for something or
the other. All I really have is my big thumb.’ The subinspector stuck out his
thumb and smiled.

Hukum Chand’s mind was not itself that morning. He did not seem to realize
the full import of the subinspector’s report.

‘Yes, Inspector Sahib, you and I are going to get nothing out of this except a
bad name. What can we do? Everyone has gone trigger-happy. People empty
their rifle magazines into densely packed trains, motor convoys, columns of

marching refugees, as if they were squirting red water at the Holi festival; it is a
bloody Holi. What sense is there in going to a place where bullets fly? The bullet
does not pause and consider, “This is Hukum Chand, I must not touch him.” Nor

does a bullet have a name written on it saying “Sent by So-and-so”. Even if it
did bear a name—once inside, what consolation would it be to us to know who
fired it? No, Inspector Sahib, the only thing a sane person can do in a lunatic

asylum is to pretend that he is as mad as the others and at the first opportunity
scale the walls and get out.’
The subinspector was used to these sermons and knew how little they

represented the magistrate’s real self. But Hukum Chand’s apparent inability to
take a hint was surprising. He was known for never saying a thing straight; he
considered it stupid. To him the art of diplomacy was to state a simple thing in

an involved manner. It never got one into trouble. It could never be quoted as
having implied this or that. At the same time, it gave one the reputation of being
shrewd and clever. Hukum Chand was as adept at discovering innuendoes as he

was at making them. This morning he seemed to be giving his mind a rest.
‘You should have been in Chundunnugger yesterday,’ said the subinspector,
bringing the conversation back to the actual problem which faced him. ‘If I had

been five minutes later, there would not have been one Muslim left alive. As it
is, not one was killed. I was able to take them all out.’