Page 22 - Train to Pakistan

done up to receive an important guest. The sweeper had washed the bathrooms,
swept the rooms, and sprinkled water on the road. The bearer and his wife had
dusted and rearranged the furniture. The sweeper’s boy had unwound the rope

on the punkah which hung from the ceiling and put it through the hole in the
wall so that he could pull it from the veranda. He had put on a new red loincloth

and was sitting on the veranda tying and untying knots in the punkah rope. From
the kitchen came the smell of currying chicken.
At eleven o’clock a subinspector of police and two constables turned up on

bicycles to inspect the arrangements. Then two orderlies arrived. They wore
white uniforms with red sashes round their waists and white turbans with broad
bands in front. On the bands were pinned brass emblems of the government of

the Punjab—the sun rising over five wavy lines representing the rivers of the
province. With them were several villagers who carried the baggage and the
glossy black official dispatch cases.

An hour later a large grey American car rolled in. An orderly stepped out of
the front seat and opened the rear door for his master. The subinspector and the
policemen came to attention and saluted. The villagers moved away to a

respectful distance. The bearer opened the wire-gauze door leading to the main
bed-sitting room. Mr Hukum Chand, magistrate and deputy commissioner of the
district, heaved his corpulent frame out of the car. He had been travelling all

morning and was somewhat tired and stiff. A cigarette perched on his lower lip
sent a thin stream of smoke into his eyes. In his right hand he held a cigarette tin
and a box of matches. He ambled up to the subinspector and gave him a friendly

slap on the back while the other still stood at attention.
‘Come along, Inspector Sahib, come in,’ said Hukum Chand. He took the
inspector’s right hand and led him into the room. The bearer and the deputy

commissioner’s personal servant followed. The constables helped the chauffeur
to take the luggage out of the car.
Hukum Chand went straight into the bathroom and washed the dust off his

face. He came back still wiping his face with a towel. The subinspector stood up
again.
‘Sit down, sit down,’ he commanded.

He flung the towel on his bed and sank into an armchair. The punkah began to
flap forward and backward to the grating sound of the rope moving in the hole in
the wall. One of the orderlies undid the magistrate’s shoes and took off his socks

and began to rub his feet. Hukum Chand opened the cigarette tin and held it out