Page 63 - Train to Pakistan

would slow down near a cyclist or a pedestrian, the soldiers on the footboard
would stab him in the back and then the driver would accelerate away fast. They
killed many people like this and were feeling happier and happier as they got
nearer Pakistan. They were within a mile of the border and were travelling at

great speed. What do you think happened then?’
‘What?’ asked an obliging policeman. They all listened intently—all except

Iqbal. Even the driver stopped flogging the horse and looked back.
‘Listen, Babuji, this is worth listening to. A pariah dog ran across the road.
The very same driver of the truck who had been responsible for killing so many
people swerved sharply to the right to avoid the dog, a mangy pariah dog. He

crashed into a tree. The driver and two of the soldiers were killed. All the others
seriously wounded. What do you say to that?’

Policemen murmured approval. Iqbal felt irritated.
‘Who caused the crash, the dog or God?’ he asked cynically.
‘God, of course,’ answered one of the policemen. ‘Why should one who

enjoyed killing human beings be bothered by a stray dog getting under his
wheels?’
‘You tell me,’ said Iqbal coldly. He squashed everyone except Jugga, who

was irrepressible. Jugga turned to the tonga driver. The man had started
whipping his horse again.
‘Bhola, have you no fear of God that you beat your animal so mercilessly?’

Bhola stopped beating the horse. The expression on his face was resentful: it
was his horse and he could do what he liked to it.
‘Bholeya, how is business these days?’ asked Jugga, trying to make up.

‘God is merciful,’ answered the driver pointing to the sky with his whip, then
added quickly, ‘Inspector sahib is also merciful. We are alive and manage to fill
our bellies.’

‘Don’t you make money off these refugees who are wanting to go to
Pakistan?’
‘And lose my life for money?’ asked Bhola angrily. ‘No, thank you, brother,

you keep your advice to yourself. When the mobs attack they do not wait to find
out who you are, Hindu or Muslim; they kill. The other day four Sikh Sardars in
a jeep drove alongside a mile-long column of Muslim refugees walking on the

road. Without warning they opened fire with their sten guns. Four sten guns!