Duty

The midday sun blasts everything in the Indian summer: it scorches

its upper layers crack into a million

fissures; it sets fire to
he carth till
he water till the lakes and pools and swamps bubble, evaporate and
dry up; it shrivels up the lives of birds, beasts and flowers; it burns into
one like red pepper and leaves one gasping for breath with a bulging
tongue till one spends one 's time looking for some shady spot for
even the most precarious shelter.
Mangal Singh, the policeman who had been posted on duty at the
branch road from the
village of Vadala enters the
point where the
Mall Road of Chetpur, had taken shelter
under the sparsc foliage of a
in the
kikar tree lavers of white dust, after having stood
beyond the
since dawn. In a little while, sepoy Rahmat-
sun for five and a half hours
cool
Ullah would come and relieve him, and he felt that he could
down a little and to to the barracks.
prepare go
the leaves of the wayside trees, and
The sun was penetrating even

airless atmosphere, but

there was much comfort in the humid
not

after the cracking heat of the open, Mangal

felt that this comparative

shade was a
blessing rich Hindu
He not, of course, like
was
the delicate Lallas,
and
the gardens early in the morning
merchants, who rode out into
till
fresh air at sunrise and never appcared
n d r e w after 'eating' the

wives drinking
milk-water or lying
S,Sitting the laps of their
in
under the cool air

about on the front boards

of their shops
P awled would, I go for apice wor
ccctric fans.. No, he didn't sav asthey thirst by
'quench his
.

of salt, he
bring me a palanquin. Nor could from strong Peasai
ant
that he came
g dew. No, he was proud it: indeed,
this

could rough i
OCK and was a hardy policeman who he felt ita pity
that ne
and
POnce service was not active
enough for him a
 Selected Short Storic
18

had not become a real sepoy, for there was more pay in
in the
the paha
there were better unitorms, also Irec mufti and free rations,
paltans atv
5. So b,
So he har
heard after he had put the mark of his thumb down and joincd.
police force-but once done cannot be undone. And it Was s
the
blessing of the Gurus, as there was little chance of carning anv ext
a
money in the military; while, apart from the filteen rupees pay, there

were other small sums so long as contectioners continued to mix

milk with water and so long as there was a murder or two in the
prostitutes bazaar, and so long as there were respectable Lallas who
would pay ratherthan have their names mentioned... Why, even here
on point-duty in the waste land-'your own is your own and another's
is also yours' For if the pecasants offered tokens of grain and butter and
sugar to the Munshi at the customs house, then why not to the police?
That skinny little Babu at the octroi post had not the strong arm of the
sepoy to protect them when they were being looted by the thugs in
the market.. . He knew. After wisdom the club. If only he had been
able to pay a nazarana to the Tehsildar, he would never have lost his
land to Seth Jhinda Ram . . . But God's work was well done, man's
badly. And, truly, if he had not pressed the limbs of the landlord, he
would never have got the recommendation to join the police. And
you learnt a great deal in the service of the Sarkar. And there was
nothing better than Service: no worry, and there was so nuch izzat in
itthat these very cowardly city folk who
laughed at you if you were a
peasant, joined their hands in obeisance to you if you wielded a
truncheon. And the rustics who had no notion of
could be made to obey authority with the
discipline or duty
might of the stave, and if
they didn't obey that, the fear of the handcuff-even a daring robber
ike Barkat Ali could not escape because one could blow
the whistlde
and call the entire police force out. And the Sarkar is
truly powerful.
Like Alamgir, it leaves no fire in the hearth, nor water in the
jar, to
bring a man to justice...
He glanced at his dust-covered fect in the regulation shoes of
rough cowhide, even as he congratulated himselt on his lucky position
member of the much-feared police service and wished he had
 Duty
19
in the
in army,
a for there the
really heen
1l.. been
sepoys had boots given them. His
too were old and faded and there
uttees
something loose about
was
the khaki uniform with the black belt. The uniform of the army was so
iaht-fitting. Perhaps the whistle-chain and the
truncheon improved
his and the red-and-blue turban was nice, but-he lifted his hand to
cares the folds
of his headdress and to adjust it, as it was
cs
heavy and got
soaked with the sweat that flowed from his fuming scalp burdenedby
longhair on the
lower edges...
The sun poured down a flood of fire on the earth, and it seemed
as if the desolate fields covered with dense brown thickets and stalks
of grass and cacti were crackling like cinders and would soon be
reduced to ashes. A partridge hummed in its nest somewhere and a
dove cooed from the tree overhead, giving that depth to the shade
which fills the air with long, endless silences and with the desolate
peace of loneliness.

Mangal Singh drifted a few steps from where he was standing and
halted on a spot where the shade was thicker than it was anywhere
he cupped his
else under the kikar trees. And, blowing a hot breath,
leaned his chin on the knuckles
palms over the knob of his stave and
the scene with half-
of his joined hands and stood contemplating
on his front paws and lies
closed eyes like a dog who rests his muzzle
in wait for his prey.
floated past his eyes in the sun-soaked
Layers of white-sheeted mist
bushes, while the parched
fields, the anguish of a thousand heat-singed touch
trees rustled at the
leaves ofthe hanging boughs of the wayside
of a scorching breeze.
and there never comes a
One breath, a thousand hopes, they say,
difficult to walk down
to
it would be very
day without evening-but he wished his duty
was
terrible heat. And
the barracks through this could
his food for him and that he
could fetch
not
up, that s o m e o n e in the grove of
neem
sleep
charpai from the octroi and go
to
Dorrow a
or sit and
talk to the grass
Das,
ees
by the garden of Rais Jagjiwan Rahmat-Ullah had
an

catter's wife who had breasts like

turnips. Only desolate
the
as he preferred
Oner too, and he was sure to be here,
 Selectcd Short Stories
20

afternoon, thinking that he might get a chance when no

no on.
one was
I will have to walk back to the lines, he muttered to hin. abouout
yawned. He felt heavy and tired at the prospect and his legs s
f and
weaken from the knowledge of the unending trudge of three seemed t
ree miles
He shook his head and tried be alert, but the invisible
to
presene. of
some overwhelming force seemed to be
descending on him and 1
heavy-lidded eyes were closing against his will. He took a deep bresl his
and made another effort to eath
open his eyes wide through the drowe
wsy
stupor of the shade that weighed down from the trees. For a
his body steadied and his momentent
eyes half opened. But how hateful was
glare, and how cruel, how meaningless, was life outside... And the
peace, what quiet below the what
Ifa god should be
trees, beneath the eyes...
for a minute, he
standing here he could not help
closing his eves
felt; and sleep came
whiff of breeze that was creeping into his bones with a
like a soft
thousand glares of the torrid sun beautyretreating coyly before the
the silent fields.. which burnt so
. The heat seemed to be passionately above
and to be
blinding his eyes, and he let himselfmelting the fat in his head
be seduced the
stillness into a trance of by placid
Through sleepy eyes half-sleep...
he was
conscious of the
as he dozed, and his
head was bent on body still stood more or whispering elements
the knuckles of less erect,
comers
of his mouth dribbled his hand above though his
the stave, and
Shoop.. . shoop.. . slightly. the
as he saw shoop..a snake
the same time
stealthy corners of whosethe soothing vision ofseemed to lash his face
at
was effaced.. lanes a
dim city
he was
passing suavely intothrough the
Shoop.. .shoop . house a

He came to
before him, his suddenly and saw Thanedar
young face red with
turban, his tall lanky Abdul Kerim
form anger under the standine
bicycle leaning against tight-stretched,d,
his legs.
a
cane in
ng affected Afgha
his han an
Wake up! Wake
up, you ox of a
and, and
hand, and his
hi.
that your senses Sikh! Is it
have left because it is
you? past twe
welve
 Duty
21
Mangal reeled, then steadied
himself, his hands climbing
automatically to his turban which had been shaken
by the Inspector's
onslaught.
Shoop. . shoop, the
. cane struck his side
again and stung his skin
tke hundred scorpions. And a welter of abuse fell upon his ears,
a

Bahin-chod, the DSP might have passed, and you are supposed to be
on duty. Wake up and come to your senses, madar-chod!"
Quite involuntarily, Mangal's right hand left the turban and shot
up to his forehead in a salute, and his thick,
trembling lips phewed
some hot stale breath, Huzoor, mai-bap.
You eat the bread of illegality, the Thanedar shouted. "I will be
reprimanded and my promotion stopped, you swine!'
And he lifted his cane to strike Mangal again, but the sepoy was
shaking with fright so that his stave dropped from his hand.
Mangal bent and picked up his lathi.
Go and be on vour point-duty! ordered the Thancdar sternly
and, putting his foot on the pedal, rode shakily away on his bicycle.
Mangal walked out of the shade, his shins and thighs still trembling
and his heart thumping in spite of himself, though he was less afraid
than conscience-stricken for neglecting his duty.
The heat of the sun made the skin of his face smart with a sharp
pain where the perspiration flowed profusely down his neck. He
rubbed his hand across it and felt the sweat tingle like a raw wound
He shook himself and his head twitched, and he looked about in
order to see if anyone had seen him being beaten. He wanted to bear
the pain like a man. But his eves, startled by the suddenness with
which they had opened, were full of a boiling liquid that melted into
fumes as he raised his head.
His throat was parched dry and he coughed with an effort so that
his big brown face above the shaggy beard reddened. Then he paused
to spit on the road and felt his legs trembling and shaking more than

control his limbs and

cer. He twisted his face in the endeavour to

lunged forward. .
came a voIce rom
Ohe, mav vou die, ohe asses, ohe, mav vou die,
behind him
 Sclectcd Short Storics
22
come stampedina
As he turned around, he saw a herd of donkeys ng
wild rush, which became wilder as their driver trotted
up the road in a

fast behind them in an attempt to kcep them from entering the Mall
Road at that pace.
For
moment, the cloud of dust the herd had raiscd on the sides
a

of the
deeply rutted Vadala Road obscured Mangal's view of the man,
but then suddenly he could hear
him shouting, Ohe, may vou die,
asses!

Mangal ran with his upraised, in a wild scurry towards the

stave
driver of the
stampeding donkeys, scattering them helter-skelter till
some of them cantered
the more
turned back and came to a quickly into the Mall and the others
standstill. He caught the
the man had
escaped into a ditch by the banana field. driver up before
half-expressed curse between his teeth, he And, grindinga
hard, hard, harder, so that the blows struck him with his
fell stave
on the driver's
arms, on a donkey's edgewise on a donkey's neck,
back, on a
man's legs.. . donkey's head, on the
Oh. forgive,
Sarkar, it is notmy lault, the
indignant voice while he rubbed his limbs man shouted in an
and angry,
ward off more blows. spread his hands out to
You, son of a dog, hissed
harder and harder, as if he had Mangal he struck
as

gone mad, tillI his again :and

as bamboo stick does when it is
a stave
seemed
again,
splitting into to
to rin
shreds. ring
rins