Page 89 - Train to Pakistan

standard. There were not many ‘oughts’ in his life. There were just the ‘is’s. He
took life as it was. He did not want to recast it or rebel against it. There were
processes of history to which human beings contributed willy-nilly. He believed
that an individual’s conscious effort should be directed to immediate ends like

saving life when endangered, preserving the social structure and honouring its
conventions. His immediate problem was to save Muslim lives. He would do

that in any way he could. Two men who had been arrested on the strength of
warrants signed by him should have been arrested in any case. One was an
agitator, the other a bad character. In troubled times, it would be necessary to
detain them. If he could make a minor error into a major investment, it would

really be a mistake to call it a mistake. Hukum Chand felt elated. If his plan
could be carried out efficiently! If only he could himself direct the details, there

would be no slips! His subordinates frequently did not understand his mind and
landed him in complicated situations.
From inside the rest house came the sound of the bathroom door shutting and

opening. Hukum Chand got up and shouted at the bearer to bring in breakfast.
The girl sat on the edge of the bed with her chin in her hands. She stood up
and covered her head with the loose end of the sari. When Hukum Chand sat

down in the chair, she sat down on the bed again with her eyes fixed on the
floor. There was an awkward silence. After some time Hukum Chand mustered
his courage, cleared his throat and said, ‘You must be hungry. I have sent for

some tea.’
The girl turned her large sad eyes on him. ‘I want to go home.’
‘Have something to eat and I will tell the driver to take you home. Where do

you live?’
‘Chundunnugger. Where the Inspector Sahib has his police station.’
There was another long pause. Hukum Chand cleared his throat again. ‘What

is your name?’
‘Haseena. Haseena Begum.’
‘Haseena. You are haseen. Your mother has chosen your name well. Is that

old woman your mother?’
The girl smiled for the first time. No one had paid her a compliment before.
Now the Government itself had called her beautiful and was interested in her

family.
‘No, sir, she is my grandmother. My mother died soon after I was born.’