absolute pin-drop silence.’ ‘Pin-drop silence,’ was a favourite among his repertoire and clichés. ‘Packed to capacity,’ ‘sacrifice our all,’ ‘eschew all differences’ were some of the others which figured frequently.
‘Accha! Wonderful!’ she responded enthusiastically. ‘You will become a minister in the Government one day and we will have a flag on the top of our house; we will have an official car and peons in uniform. Then we can-dismiss this useless Mundoo of yours. Really you’ve no idea what he is like!’
‘Oh, yes, I have,’ interrupted Sher Singh impatiently. ‘He is just a poor, underpaid boy. The condition of domestic servants is one of the most pressing problems of urban society. We work them twenty-four hours of the day, underpay, underfeed, and underclothe them. Their living quarters are filthy. They are abused and beaten at will. They are dismissed without notice after a disgraceful search of their belongings. It is scandalous. It must stop. I will stop it.’ Sher Singh found it hard to switch from oratory to multitudes to talking to individuals.
‘I am sure you will. But this Mundoo . . . really.’
‘What’s wrong with him? He’s no different from other servants. The trouble is we never can see ourown faults. Whenever I have difficulty with people, I put myself in their shoes and see their point of view. It is a very good principle.’
Sher Singh and his wife were too full of themselves to listen to each other’s tales. They both abandoned the attempt.
It was hot. The ceiling fan only churned the air inside the room. Other members of the family slept on the roof in the cool of the moonlight. Even Dyer, who never left his master’s side when he was at home, refused to be in the room at night. Sher Singh had to suffer because of his wife. He looked at his watch. ‘It’s after eleven. I didn’t realize it was so late. I’ve had such a tiring day.’ He put up his arms and yawned.
‘Your mother hasn’t come back from the temple. The procession could not have ended.’
‘I don’t know about her but I could hear father’s snores from the courtyard. And there is a light in Beena’s room. She must be studying.’
Sher Singh gave himself a long look in the mirror before taking off his turban and uniform. He went into the bathroom, poured a few mugs of water on his body, and came back dripping to dry himself under the fan. He saw himself in the mirror. His paunch showed no sign of reducing. He pulled it in and thought how much nicer it would be if it always stayed there. He bent down and touched his toes three times and re-examined the effect on his middle. He put on a thin muslin shirt and pyjamas. Before switching off the light he looked round the room to see if everything was in place. Champak had taken off her kimono and lay stark naked on her belly. She had the pillow between her arms, herlegs were stretched apart. Sher Singh knew what this meant. ‘My God I feel fagged out,’ he said wearily and switched off the light.
Champak stretched out her hand and caught her husband’s. ‘Now it’s dark, I can tell you about this Mundoo of yours. He’s not all that innocent, you know!’
‘Oh? What did he do?’ asked Sher Singh yawning at the same time.
‘Come over and I’ll tell you,’ she mumbled, tugging at his hand.
Sher Singh rolled over on to her bed and let her put her hand on his arm. ‘When I bathe, he keeps peeping through the crevices of the door.’
‘How do you know?’
‘I know. And today he burst into the bathroom on the pretence of bringing in the hot water. I didn’t have a stitch on me. Not one thing! My God, I nearly died of shame.’
‘Why don’t you bolt the bathroom door?’
‘Never occurred to me; I thought everyone was out. In any case he should have knocked before coming in.’
‘I suppose so. He’s only a little fellow,’ he said. ‘Let’s go to sleep.’ A minute later he began to breathe heavily.
Champak’s body
‘Accha! Wonderful!’ she responded enthusiastically. ‘You will become a minister in the Government one day and we will have a flag on the top of our house; we will have an official car and peons in uniform. Then we can-dismiss this useless Mundoo of yours. Really you’ve no idea what he is like!’
‘Oh, yes, I have,’ interrupted Sher Singh impatiently. ‘He is just a poor, underpaid boy. The condition of domestic servants is one of the most pressing problems of urban society. We work them twenty-four hours of the day, underpay, underfeed, and underclothe them. Their living quarters are filthy. They are abused and beaten at will. They are dismissed without notice after a disgraceful search of their belongings. It is scandalous. It must stop. I will stop it.’ Sher Singh found it hard to switch from oratory to multitudes to talking to individuals.
‘I am sure you will. But this Mundoo . . . really.’
‘What’s wrong with him? He’s no different from other servants. The trouble is we never can see ourown faults. Whenever I have difficulty with people, I put myself in their shoes and see their point of view. It is a very good principle.’
Sher Singh and his wife were too full of themselves to listen to each other’s tales. They both abandoned the attempt.
It was hot. The ceiling fan only churned the air inside the room. Other members of the family slept on the roof in the cool of the moonlight. Even Dyer, who never left his master’s side when he was at home, refused to be in the room at night. Sher Singh had to suffer because of his wife. He looked at his watch. ‘It’s after eleven. I didn’t realize it was so late. I’ve had such a tiring day.’ He put up his arms and yawned.
‘Your mother hasn’t come back from the temple. The procession could not have ended.’
‘I don’t know about her but I could hear father’s snores from the courtyard. And there is a light in Beena’s room. She must be studying.’
Sher Singh gave himself a long look in the mirror before taking off his turban and uniform. He went into the bathroom, poured a few mugs of water on his body, and came back dripping to dry himself under the fan. He saw himself in the mirror. His paunch showed no sign of reducing. He pulled it in and thought how much nicer it would be if it always stayed there. He bent down and touched his toes three times and re-examined the effect on his middle. He put on a thin muslin shirt and pyjamas. Before switching off the light he looked round the room to see if everything was in place. Champak had taken off her kimono and lay stark naked on her belly. She had the pillow between her arms, herlegs were stretched apart. Sher Singh knew what this meant. ‘My God I feel fagged out,’ he said wearily and switched off the light.
Champak stretched out her hand and caught her husband’s. ‘Now it’s dark, I can tell you about this Mundoo of yours. He’s not all that innocent, you know!’
‘Oh? What did he do?’ asked Sher Singh yawning at the same time.
‘Come over and I’ll tell you,’ she mumbled, tugging at his hand.
Sher Singh rolled over on to her bed and let her put her hand on his arm. ‘When I bathe, he keeps peeping through the crevices of the door.’
‘How do you know?’
‘I know. And today he burst into the bathroom on the pretence of bringing in the hot water. I didn’t have a stitch on me. Not one thing! My God, I nearly died of shame.’
‘Why don’t you bolt the bathroom door?’
‘Never occurred to me; I thought everyone was out. In any case he should have knocked before coming in.’
‘I suppose so. He’s only a little fellow,’ he said. ‘Let’s go to sleep.’ A minute later he began to breathe heavily.
Champak’s body
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