Page 56 - Train to Pakistan

confirmed his innocence. Some sort of case would have to be made up against
him. That was always a tricky thing to do to educated people. Juggut Singh was
too obvious a victim to be the correct one. He had undoubtedly broken the law in
leaving the village at night, but he was not likely to have joined in a dacoity in

his own village. He would be too easily recognized by his enormous size. Also,
it was quite clear that these two had met for the first time.

Iqbal’s pride had been injured. Up to the time he met Juggut Singh, he was
under the impression that he had been arrested for his politics. He had insisted
on being handcuffed so that the villagers could see with what dignity he bore
himself. They would be angered at such an outrage to civil liberties. But the men

had gaped stupidly and the women peered through their veils and asked each
other in whispers, ‘Who is this?’ When he joined the group that escorted Juggut

Singh, the point of the policeman’s advice, ‘Cover your face, otherwise you may
be recognized at the identification parade,’ came home to him. He was under
arrest in connection with the murder of Ram Lal. It was so stupid he could

hardly believe it. Everyone knew that he had come to Mano Majra after the
murder. On the same train as the policemen, in fact. They could be witness of his
alibi. The situation was too ludicrous for words. But Punjabi policemen were not

the sort who admitted making mistakes. They would trump up some sort of
charge: vagrancy, obstructing officers in doing their duty, or some such thing.
He would fight them tooth and nail.

The only one in the party who did not seem to mind was Juggut Singh. He had
been arrested before. He had spent quite as much time in jail as at home. His
association with the police was an inheritance. Register number ten at the police

station, which gave the record of the activities of the bad characters of the
locality, had carried his father Alam Singh’s name while he lived. Alam Singh
had been convicted of dacoity with murder, and hanged. Juggut Singh’s mother

had to mortgage all their land to pay lawyers. Juggut Singh had to find money to
redeem the land, and he had done that within the year. No one could prove how
he had raised the money, but at the end of the year the police had taken him. His

name was entered in register number ten and he was officially declared a man of
bad character. Behind his back everyone referred to him as a ‘number ten’.
Juggut Singh looked at the prisoner beside him several times. He wanted to

start a conversation. Iqbal had his eyes fixed in front of him and walked with the
camera-consciousness of an actor facing the lens. Juggut Singh lost patience.