Page 39 - Mindmail _June_2019

‘Shall I say “Refused”?’ Singh. ‘I have lived without watchman at the gate. him with mild amusement don’t laugh at a madman, derived the inspiration for
asked the postman. ‘No, a single remark being Some people were sitting in their eyes. The assistant for who knows, you will it from a memory of his
no,’ said Singh. ‘Just take it made against me, all my on sofas reading books kindly put his arms on his also be mad when you own village days. It was
back and say you have not life. Now!’ He shuddered and journals. They turned shoulder and led him out. come to make clay dolls,’ the most enjoyable piece
found me . . .’ at the thought of it. ‘I knew and threw a brief look at ‘You get well first, and then and charged into their of work that he had so far
I was getting into trouble him and resumed their come back. I tell you—you midst with a war cry. When undertaken. He lived in a
‘That I can’t do . . .’ when I made that office studies. As Singh stood are not all right.’ he saw children coming kind of ecstasy while doing
wsaid the postman, model . . .’ After deeper uncertainly at the doorway, out of a school, he felt it it. ‘I am going to keep this
looking serious. reflection he said, ‘Every an assistant came up and Walking back home, he would be nice to amuse for myself. A memento
time I took something asked, ‘What do you want?’ pondered over it. ‘Why are their young hearts by of my father’s village,’ he
Singh seemed to have no there, people crowded Singh gave a salute, held they all behaving like this, behaving like a tiger. So he declared. ‘I will show it at
option but to scrawl his round, stopped all work up the letter uncertainly as if I were a madman?’ fell on his hands and knees an exhibition, where they
signature and receive the for nearly an hour . . . That and muttered, ‘Can I When this word came and crawled up to them will give me a medal.’ He
packet. He sat gloomily— must also have reached know what is inside this?’ to his mind, he stopped with a growl. guarded it like a treasure:
gazing at the floor. His wife the Sahib’s ears.’ The assistant made the abruptly in the middle of when it was wet he never
who had gone out and just obvious suggestion. But the road and cried, ‘Oh! He went home in a allowed his wife to walk
returned saw him in this He wandered about Singh replied, ‘They said That’s it, is that it?—Mad! terrifying condition. His within ten yards of it. ‘Keep
condition and asked, ‘What saying the same thing, you could tell me what’s Mad!’ He shook his head wife, who was grinding off, we don’t want your foot
is it?’ His voice choked as with the letter in his inside without opening gleefully as if the full truth chilli in the back yard, dust for this village . . .’
he replied, ‘It has come.’ He pocket. He lost his taste it—’ The assistant asked, had just dawned upon him. looked up and asked,
flung at her the registered for food, wandered about ‘Where do you come He now understood the ‘What is this?’ His hair was Now, in his madness,
letter. ‘What is it?’ she unkempt, with his hair from?’ Singh explained looks that people threw covered with street dust; he looked down on it.
asked. He said, ‘How standing up like a halo—an his life, work and outlook, at him. ‘Oh! oh!’ he cried his body was splashed with He raised his foot and
should I know. Perhaps our unaccustomed sight, his and concluded, ‘I’ve lived aloud. He laughed. He mud. He could not answer stamped everything down
ruin . . .’ He broke down. years in military service without remark all my felt a curious relief at this because he choked with into a multicoloured jam.
His wife watched him for a having given him a habitual life. I knew trouble was realization. ‘I have been mirth as he said, ‘Fancy They were still half-wet.
moment, went in to attend tidiness. His wife lost all coming—’ There were mad and didn’t know it . . what has happened!’ He saw a donkey grazing
to some domestic duty and peace of mind and became tears on his cheeks. The .’ He cast his mind back. in the street. He gathered
returned, still found him miserable about him. assistant looked at him Every little action of his ‘What is it?’ up the jam and flung it
in the same condition and He stood at crossroads, curiously as scores of for the last so many days at the donkey with the
asked, ‘Why not open it and clutching the letter in others had done before, seemed mad; particularly ‘I’m mad, mad.’ He looked remark: ‘Eat this if you
see, ask someone to read his hand. He kept asking smiled and said, ‘Go home the doll-making. ‘What at his work-basket in a like. It is a nice village .
it?’ He threw up his arms in everyone he came across, and rest. You are not all sane man would make corner, scooped out the . .’ And he went out on
horror. ‘Woman, you don’t ‘Tell me, what is there in right . . . Go, go home.’ clay dolls after twenty clay and made a helmet of a second round. This
know what you are saying. this?’ but he would not five years of respectable it and put it on his head. was a quieter outing. He
It cannot be opened. They brook the suggestion ‘Can’t you say what is service in an office?’ He Ranged on the floor was strode on at an even pace,
have perhaps written that to open it and see in this?’ Singh asked felt a tremendous freedom his latest handiwork. After breathing deeply, with
my pension is stopped, and its contents. pathetically. The assistant of limbs, and didn’t feel his last visit to the office the clay helmet on, out of
God knows what else the took it in his hand, it possible to walk at an he had been engaged in which peeped his grey hair,
Sahib has said . . .’ So forthwith Singh found examined it and said, ‘Shall ordinary pace. He wanted making a model village. It his arms locked behind,
his way to the City X-ray I open it?’ ‘No, no, no,’ to fly. He swung his arms was a resplendent group: his fingers clutching the
‘Why not go to the office Institute at Race Course Singh cried, and snatched up and down and ran on a dun road, red tiles, green fateful letter, his face
and find out from them?’ Road. As he entered the it back. There was a look with a whoop. He ran coconut trees swaying, tilted towards the sky. He
gate he observed dozens of terror in his eyes. The through the Market Road. and the colour of the saris walked down the Market
‘Not I! I will never show my of cars parked along assembly looked up from When people stood about of the village women Road, with a feeling that
face there again,’ replied the drive, and a Gurkha their pages and watched and watched he cried, ‘Hey, carrying water pots. He he was the sole occupant
of this globe: his madness
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