‘No luck, my friend, just skill,’ the doctor said equably.
‘Then how do you account for the fact that I almost always beat you when you’re playing white?’
‘Not true,’ the doctor said brusquely, and the Brigadier gave vent to one of his booming laughs.
Then, ignoring my presence, they began to discuss an infestation of spider mites that was threatening their beloved fuchsias. Eventually, the Brigadier glanced my way. ‘You must be growing impatient, my dear boy, but don’t fret, I have some good news for you.’
‘Good news? What good news?’ the doctor asked.
‘Oh, Vijay here has been worried that there might be trouble at the shrine. Remember, he brought it up at the meeting.’
‘Yes, so should we be worrying or not?’ the doctor asked impatiently.
‘Don’t mind my friend here,’ the Brigadier said with a wink. ‘He might not have a soothing bedside manner but he’s a good physician.’
The doctor didn’t appear to be too pleased by this description of himself but said nothing. The Brigadier then told us he had gone to see Rajan the previous evening after I had telephoned him. He hadn’t found him at the shop but had eventually tracked him down at a leper colony that had grown up by the river that flowed below town.
‘Such an inspirational young man,’ the Brigadier said, ‘so dedicated to helping the poor. Volunteers from town distribute clothes and money to the lepers, and he funds it all. He was telling me about the charity work he does in Bombay and Coimbatore. You know as a people we don’t do enough charity—all we seem to do when we have money is build temples or go on pilgrimages. We could learn from the Americans, now there’s a country that has developed philanthropy to a fine art. And just imagine, if each of us who could adopted just one family below the poverty line, then we’d be a poor country no longer.’
The doctor cut in sharply, tugging at his little goatee, ‘You’re digressing again, Mohan.’
‘So I am, so I am,’ the Brigadier said unperturbed. ‘But then again, perhaps I’m not. You see, I’m beginning to be convinced that this young man, Rajan, poses no threat to the shrine.’
I was about to interrupt, but he signalled me to be quiet.
‘As I said to you a couple of days ago, I have met him on several occasions and I am amazed that even after all the troubles he’s had, he holds no bitterness towards anyone. He is determined to give something back to society, instead of just enjoying his money. Men like him should be held up as an example to our people; we don’t need to look outside our country to find examples of those who have risen from the bottom of the heap…’
He reached for his coffee, and I said agitatedly, ‘Sir, that isn’t at all the way he came across to me. I think he is very good at hiding his true motives and I believe he wants to destroy the shrine, not just as part of his fundamentalist agenda but for personal reasons as well. Do you know that the bank manager who dismissed him on trumped-up charges was a Christian, and he thinks by taking over a Christian place of worship—’
‘I would hardly call the shrine a Christian place of worship,’ the doctor put in drily. ‘Every church in the district hates Brother Ahimas’s guts for allowing unbelievers in, not obeying the rules and regulations of any normal church, let alone the Church of South India…’
‘Listen, young man,’ the Brigadier said patronizingly, ‘I think we can safely discard the notion that he is going to all this trouble just to get back at some slight that happened twenty-five years ago, but let us assume that he wants to take over the shrine for political reasons. Why here in Meham? Surely he could have found something in Bombay?’
I repeated what Menon had told me: ‘The extremists want to expand their territory and this state has hardly seen any communal violence—’
That’s a bit of a stretch,’ the doctor said grumpily. ‘Even if he occupies the shrine, it’s hardly going to inflame passions in the whole state.’
‘Sir, you have no idea how quickly these things can spread. Some obscure incident in Bihar or rural Karnataka, and the whole country is up in arms within a couple of days.’
‘I suppose it’s because of journalists like you,’ the doctor said impolitely.
‘I don’t think anything like that is going to happen here,’ the Brigadier interjected. ‘If Rajan was really serious about taking over the shrine, why didn’t he simply assemble an army of goondas, march on the Tower of God, occupy the shrine, chuck Ahimas, Menon and the rest of them over the precipice and proclaim the glories of Lord Shiva from the summit?’
‘Because he’s a superb politician, sir, not an ordinary street thug. He is building up to a terrific climax that will portray him as a great champion of Hindu interests. The 6 December attack was designed to fail, the bad weather simply made it look more plausible, and the next one will be carried out in the full glare of publicity, but this time he will make sure it’s a success.’
I wondered whether I should talk about my theory of the attack being carried out on the saint’s Feast Day instead of Republic Day but decided against it. I would first need to convince the Brigadier that the threat was real.
‘What do you think, Doctor saab?’ the Brigadier asked.
‘Don’t know, the young fellow may be on to something,’ the doctor said, his hand worrying at his goatee again. ‘But then again he could be overreacting. I do agree with you, Mohan, this chap Rajan seems to be all right. He wasn’t here when I moved to the Nilgiris twenty years ago so I don’t know about any of the scandals this young man is talking about, but when I met him he came across as a perfectly good sort.’
‘What did he come to see you about?’
‘Oh, an old medical condition, can’t tell you what it is, I’m afraid.’
‘Heart murmur,’ I said, ‘he said so himself.’
The doctor glared at me. ‘Well, now that the cat’s out of the bag, I suppose I can talk about it. It’s not that serious, but I told him he shouldn’t exert himself too much.’
As the two old men chatted on I could see that I was wasting my time here. Nobody felt Rajan was a threat besides me and Menon. And then as the doctor held forth on the various medical conditions afflicting the heart a solution presented itself to me. I was appalled that I could even think it—I should have suppressed it the moment I thought of it—instead I spoke it out aloud.
‘Dr Kuruvilla, I have a question. Is there a way in which a drug could be administered to make someone’s heart condition worse?’ I asked.
‘What?’ both men said simultaneously.
‘Only temporarily,’ I said hastily. ‘Until the crisis has passed.’
‘Listen, young man,’ the doctor said. ‘As a doctor I am sworn to save lives, not take them. I will not listen to any more of this nonsense, do you hear?
The doctor’s sharp reaction sobered me up. What on earth was I doing? I wondered. Had I totally lost my mind? No, this had gone far enough. Perhaps my own paranoia and fear were pushing me to exaggerate the danger. I tried to view Rajan from a calmer perspective, and I saw how he could be perceived as a man dedicated to alleviating the woes of the people; and, if on the side, he worked in the cause of Hindus, led a demonstration to a shrine built on a site that was ostensibly holy to Hindus, how did one more demonstration in a country of a million demonstrations matter? A few hours of noise and tension, and then things would go on as before. But even as I thought this, at the back of my mind I could see myself interviewing the survivors and victims of communal violence, people who had been leading normal, boring lives, until, in an instant, things had swung out of control. I had interviewed the murderers too, and besides a few obvious goondas, the majority of them were ordinary men, fathers, sons, husbands, who were perfectly good neighbours and citizens until some politician or ambitious priest invoked the name of God. When I viewed Rajan through that prism, he didn’t seem so harmless any more but how was I going to convince these men to adopt the same view?
I must have looked crestfallen because
the Brigadier spoke up now, the patronizing tone absent from his voice. ‘No need to look dejected, old boy, even though I think you might be overreacting. I didn’t get to where I am today by not taking into account every eventuality. I think there will be only a harmless demonstration, but just in case things turn nasty I’ve made arrangements. A good soldier is always prepared, you know.’
‘Arrangements?’ I asked.
‘Soon after I met Rajan, I went to see Inspector Shanmugam to enquire about the bandobast that had been arranged for the demonstration. He has about twenty-five constables, of whom there are only eighteen at the station at the moment—the rest are on leave or posted elsewhere—but he has promised to send at least a dozen men to guard the approaches to the shrine. And he even promised to unlock the armoury and equip the policemen with rifles, something that is only done when there is a real emergency. He said he would be present and would personally arrest Rajan if he behaved in a manner that threatened the shrine.’
I was pleasantly surprised by the local inspector’s stance—if he was going to do all these things he seemed to be a good man.
‘And that’s not all,’ the Brigadier said, looking very pleased with himself. ‘I phoned the Collector and told him that he should be prepared to rush in reinforcements at short notice, should the situation get out of hand. Also, to be absolutely on the safe side, I phoned the Brigadier of the Madras Regimental Centre in Wellington. I taught him at the Staff College, and he said he would be in touch with the Collector and the General in Madras, in case there was any reason for the army to be called in.’
This seemed the moment to tell the Brigadier about my suspicions that Rajan would strike on Feast Day and not Republic Day. He nodded and said he would alert the people he had talked to. A thought occurred to me and I asked the Brigadier whether Rajan knew about the extra security that was being arranged.
‘Of course he does, I told the inspector to inform him so there wouldn’t be any nonsense.’
‘I don’t think he scares easily,’ I said.
‘Perhaps not when he is up against street thugs in Bombay, but he hasn’t faced the army, has he now? I have seen the toughest badmashes, rioters and gangsters who have committed ten, twenty murders, quail when the army arrives on the scene of a riot. I remember in Lucknow—’
‘My dear chap,’ the doctor said abruptly, ‘you can bore this young fellow, but I’ve got to get going.’
He shook hands with us and saw himself out. As his vehicle wheezed into life and rattled away, the Brigadier said with a smile, ‘Kuruvilla is worth crores, yet you wouldn’t think it to look at him. Drives around in that old bone-rattler, has no airs or graces. He’s a good man. That’s why I like this place: there are good people here, and everything is so peaceful, serene. I couldn’t live in a big city, especially in the north, even if I was paid to.’
He paused to take a sip of his coffee. ‘So, Vijay, are you enjoying yourself? This Rajan is nothing, you’ll see. I hope you’ve taken in enough of the beauties of this place. Notice you’re not much of a plant fancier though.’
‘I’m a city boy, sir. I haven’t had much experience with plants, but I can see why they have their appeal.’
‘Yes, yes, they are beautiful to look at no doubt, but only when you become a true gardener do you realize that they can become an obsession.’
‘Yes, sir,’ I said dutifully.
He must have noticed that I was still preoccupied, for he said, ‘There’s really no cause to worry, you know.’
‘I’m sure you’re right, sir, it’s just that I’ve seen how much damage these fundamentalists can do, and those images never leave you. You wonder when it’s going to happen next.’
‘I think I understand what you’re feeling. You know I find it odd that people should call a situation where people of the same nation turn against each other a civil war. Nothing civil about it, take the word of an old soldier. All death is horrible, but that’s the worst. It’s different when you’re fighting for your country, facing a heavily armed enemy who could easily kill you if you don’t get him first.’
Through the window that faced me I could see gigantic streaks of black and grey beginning to radiate across the fawn of the evening sky. The light had started to fade. A storm front was moving slowly up the valley and a faint hope stirred within me. There were still two and a half days to go to Feast Day, and if there were heavy showers, it might dampen the celebrations but it would also put paid to Rajan’s plan. He would make another attempt, I had little doubt about that, but the whole point about keeping people like him in check was to keep trying to thwart them every time they tried.
‘That’s the only sort of situation where killing is permissible,’ the Brigadier was saying. ‘I’d be the last person to allow anything to happen here so don’t worry, it’s all taken care of. It looks like it might rain, would you like me to have you dropped back?’
‘No, sir, it’s only a short walk. I’ll be fine.’
~
When I got home, the butler handed me a note scrawled on a piece of paper: ‘I’ve found out something that I think you’ll find very interesting. Come as soon as you can.’ It wasn’t signed but the butler told me Noah had sent it through one of the kitchen servants who lived near him. I didn’t set off immediately as I hadn’t yet got over the stories Kamath had told me about Noah—if he was so unreliable, why should I bother with him? Besides, I didn’t want to get caught in the storm. In the end I did decide to go, the note sounded quite urgent, and I thought I shouldn’t dismiss Noah outright. After all he was still an ally, perhaps the only one I had left if you discounted the defenders at the shrine, especially as the more I reviewed my meeting with the Brigadier, the less I was convinced that any real action was going to be taken to contain the threat. I could see he admired Rajan and the so-called arrangements he said he had made seemed merely to consist of reassurances from people he had spoken to on the telephone.
~
The impending storm had hastened the onset of darkness, and by the time I was on the road great sweeps of night were suspended from the sky, tinctured by the last sun. Everywhere the landscape glowed red, and not for the first time I was struck by the beauty of the place. But it was a beauty that held no charm for me, as I wondered what the coming days would bring. I had done everything I could to help except make a round of the authorities, which I would do tomorrow. Once that was done, all I could do was hope that people like the Brigadier and Noah were right and that this place would never be a setting for sectarian violence.
As I neared the cemetery I was startled to hear a loud stream of abuse emanating from within it. I broke into a run, Kamath’s stories about Noah’s penchant for getting into fights running through my head. I hoped I would be of some use if he was indeed in a scuffle, I remembered how useless I had been when the rioters had set upon me in Bombay.
When I entered the cemetery I was confronted by an extraordinary sight. The last light of the day illuminated a lone tree before which Noah stood, holding a large hammer. There was no one else about, and the abuse I heard coming from Noah, was, as far as I could tell, directed at the tree. Of medium height, it had slender, wand-like branches that grew in great profusion at the base of the trunk, gradually tapering off towards the crown. Pale green flowers spotted the foliage and in the dim light it seemed the tree was wreathed in green fire. Even as I watched, Noah placed a large nail against its trunk and swung the hammer violently, pounding it deep into the bark, cursing viciously all the while. Had he gone completely mad? What had the tree done to offend him?
Nervously I said, ‘Everything all right, Noah?’
Noah broke off in mid-curse and said, ‘Oh hello, Vijay, I didn’t think you were coming.’
The transition from seeming rage to normality was so instantaneous and total that I began to doubt his sanity all the more.
‘Sure you’re OK?’ I said uncertainly.
He laughed. ‘Oh this. Sorry, didn’t mean to scare you, da,
but I was trying a trick an old gardener once taught me. There’s something wrong with this avocado tree. Year after year it flowers on schedule, birds and insects visit it so it’s being pollinated all right, but for some reason it never fruits. The chap I mentioned this to told me that sometimes you needed to give a tree or a plant a little push to get it moving in the right direction. Scare it a bit, and you’ll see the results, he said. I’ve tried it for a couple of years now’—I looked to where he was pointing and saw that the trunk of the tree was pierced by over a dozen evil-looking nails—‘but to no avail. Doesn’t cost me a thing to persist, though… So how did club night go?’
For a moment I didn’t know what he was talking about—my visit to the club seemed already to belong to the distant past—and then all at once Maya’s beautiful face came to me. I wondered if I should tell him that I had met her but decided against it. If his sources had told him she was here, as I was convinced they had, then the information would be superfluous, otherwise it would just create the sort of distraction that I was anxious to avoid. For similar reasons I decided against bringing up any of Kamath’s revelations. From this point onward my main interest in Noah was as an ally, no matter how shaky, until the threat of Rajan was seen off.
‘Hey, what are you thinking about? Did you meet a girl?’ he asked, amusement in his voice. But I was in no mood for banter, so I said abruptly, ‘Your note?’
‘Oh, that. Well, I thought you would be interested to know you were right. I’ve heard from two independent sources that Rajan is planning to do something on the saint’s Feast Day, only there are some aspects of his plan that don’t make any sense at all.’
He had gone to Ooty that morning, he said, and while he was there he’d met an old acquaintance, a stringer for a Madras newspaper, who told him that he had received a call from Mansukhani, telling him to be present outside the shrine at noon on Feast Day, when there would be a big demonstration and Rajan would have a major announcement to make.
The Solitude of Emperors Page 22