‘What do I cook with? My head?’ On hearing Dyalo speak in this irritated, almost exasperated manner, all the signs of agitation suddenly vanished from her bebe’s face. Her demeanour changed and deep furrows appeared on her forehead. But she spoke in a somewhat restrained manner, saying, ‘O kurre, why are you sounding so exasperated? You take the maize that is lying in the container and get it ground in Nandu’s machine. Who else can I ask for help now? Go my dear daughter, be wise and attend to it.’

  Dyalo went back in, as exasperated as before. Her mother started off on the same story. But the moment she heard Shinda’s wailing from outside, she threw an embroidered shawl over her shoulders and coming out, hollered, ‘Now what’s happened to you?’

  But the moment Shinda set his eyes upon her, he started wailing all the more loudly. Edging away from her but looking at his bebe with fearful eyes, Shinda was signalling towards the she-calf and trying hard to convey something, but his long bout of crying had parched his throat so much that the words were stuck there. His eyes were streaming, and as he lifted his kurta to wipe them, they appeared swollen.

  Seeing Shinda’s condition, Melu’s bebe became worried. As she came closer and looked at the she-calf, she nearly screamed, ‘Oye, weh! You be damned. Look at the havoc these enemies of ours have inflicted on this poor creature.’

  Both the hind legs of the calf were soaked in blood. On the right leg, a little below the knee, towards the inner side, almost four inches of skin had been flayed off, as though someone had sliced it off with a sickle. As she was trying to gauge the extent of the injury, Shinda howled even harder. Shaking her head in a wild rage, she turned back and rushing towards Shinda, standing in a corner, she kicked him in the shins, and screamed, ‘Hai weh, may you be ruined, you enemy of mine! Why did you have to show such bitterness towards this poor calf?’

  On being kicked, Shinda went running towards the house, howling with all his strength. Standing next to the chulha, Dyalo instantly threw her shawl around him, enveloping him. While Melu’s bebe was busy abusing the calf, trying to push him home, Chanda, the lame one, who was herding his goats home, stopped to speak to her in a composed manner, saying, ‘Why are you getting angry with your son? First find out what happened. Why are you making his life miserable? As it is, this poor fellow has been beaten up so severely. And here you go charging at him, again.’

  When Melu’s bebe twisted around to look at Chanda, she started staring at his dust-laden face, his bushy beard and his half-leg as though she had, in her nervous agitation, committed some serious error of judgement.

  ‘Bacchittar’s son attacked its legs with a spade. And tell me, how is this little one responsible for it?’ Chanda spoke, looking towards the calf’s injured leg. ‘He was going to hit the hooves, but it’s the ankle that took the brunt.’

  ‘Why the hell did my father’s brother-in-law hit this one with a spade?’ said Melu’s bebe, trembling with rage, as she desperately tried to hold on to her embroidered shawl, which was slipping off, while pushing the calf ahead. ‘Did she graze on his grape climbers?’

  ‘It has nothing to do with grazing.’ Using a stick to guide one of his goats that had wandered off towards the well, Chanda spoke in his usual composed manner, ‘He was grazing the calf when, by mistake, it sauntered into their wheat fields. He was trying to bring it back, when that fellow hit him in the shins with a stick, and hit the calf’s ankles with a spade, no less than three or four times.’

  The moment Melu’s bebe heard this, it was as though all her clothes had been set on fire. Without thinking of the consequences, she began to hurl abuses at Bacchittar’s entire family. Bacchittar’s house was only three houses away, a little ahead of the well. Her screams could be heard clearly in their house. But it seemed as if, at that moment, she couldn’t care less about any damned fool. While chivvying the calf home, she kept rambling on, saying whatever came to her mind.

  After seating Shinda next to the chulha, when Dyalo looked towards the calf stumbling in, with its head down, she was almost thrown off-balance. ‘Hai nee, bebe, half of its leg is sliced off.’

  ‘May his elders and his children also die! May death devour all his unborn ones, too!’ Seething and simmering, when Melu’s bebe walked the calf to the trough, Melu’s bapu also got up from his manji and looked at the calf’s legs, nervousness showing in his eyes.

  But much before he could say something, a paroxysm of coughing racked his body.

  Both Melu’s bebe and Dyalo immediately got down to dressing the wound on the calf’s leg. Pulling his kurta down to his knees, and wiping his eyes again and again, Shinda sobbed for a long time, intermittently stealing nervous glances at his bebe. One moment, he would look at his agitated bebe, and the very next, his eyes would go darting in the direction of his bapu, who was still racked by a coughing bout. Then as he pressed that part of his calf muscles, where he had been hit repeatedly by the stick, he felt as though the pain was slowly getting worse. After cleaning up the wound on the calf’s leg, when Melu’s bebe inspected it carefully, once again, the sight sent a shudder down her spine. It appeared as though his bone, too, had been cut a little. Her low, moaning voice became high-pitched, once again. While dressing the wound, she kept blabbering in her characteristic manner.

  The light had retreated from the terraces of the houses and the glow of the setting sun was slowly dissolving into a haze of darkness. Melu’s bebe was thinking of the many things that she still had to do. She had to go to Kirpal’s house and get a kilo or two of wheat chaff for the calf and the heifer. She now had to go to the machine herself to get the grains ground. As the machine was on the outskirts of the village, she couldn’t possibly have sent Dyalo at such an odd hour. She was to carry roti for Dharma’s children. That’s why, as soon as she had finished dressing the calf’s wound, she walked in, still muttering under her breath. Tying a handful of maize into a corner of her shawl, and picking up a torn khes for the wheat chaff, as she was about to leave, she ordered Dyalo, ‘If there is some molasses left, give it to the calf.’ She knew perfectly well that, forget about leaving something for their heifer, there wasn’t enough molasses in the house to even sweeten their morning tea.

  The moment her mother stepped out, Dyalo came back to Shinda, who was staring at her with tear-stained eyes. She wiped his eyes clean with a corner of her chunni, and said, ‘No, no, don’t cry, my little brother! Did you also get hurt somewhere?’

  ‘He hit me here with a spade, twice.’ Lifting the kurta off his wound, he touched his calf muscles, and then pointing to his back, he spoke in a tremulous voice, ‘He hit me here, as well.’

  Dyalo saw that his calf muscle was marked by a weal. His legs and feet had been bruised badly, pricked by all kinds of thorns and twigs. Fighting her emotions, she spoke in a heavy voice, ‘Don’t worry. Those chandriyas will die of worms. Come, I’ll take you inside. Lie down, with a khes over your head, while I make tea for you… All right?’

  Gently holding his arm, she led him inside, made him lie down on a manji and covered him with a khes. By the time she had returned to the door, she suddenly thought of her bapu. He was still coughing harshly. Dyalo felt as though something was boiling inside her, and in spite of herself, she broke down. Stuffing a corner of her chunni in her mouth, she tried to force her tears from spilling over, and on the pretext of collecting the saag she had already cut, she started fumbling around on the floor. She couldn’t gather the courage to look at her bapu. Slowly, while stoking the ashes in the chulha, as she started thrusting small pieces of dung-cake into it, with the idea of making tea for Shinda, her eyes brimmed over, and she broke down all over again. Then turning her face towards the wall, she wiped her tears. But her throat had turned so bitter as though she had chewed an acacia shoot.

  When Melu’s bapu got some respite from his coughing, he lay down again. But that very moment, he heard a commotion filtering in from the dharamshala, almost as if the panchayat had returned from the town. He made a bid to get up, but fell back as though the cough had sapped all his energy. He simply could not get up, but as the commotion increased by the minute, his anxiety, too, mounted. Suddenly, he felt as though some people had started squabbling. That is when he pushed himself up on his elbows and rose to his feet.

  ‘Dyalo, bhai, go and see, what’s the matter?’ he spoke, a picture of anxiety.

  But Dyalo just went across to the window, looked towards the dharamshala, and as she turned away, all she said was, ‘I don’t know, bapu.’

  On hearing her detached voice, when Melu’s bapu looked at her somewhat surprised. She was, at that time, looking for a stout piece of wood, rummaging through the bundle her mother had brought in. With the support of the long, wooden arm of the manji, he got up, took a few deep breaths and then slowly started walking towards the door. When he came out and looked towards the dharamshala, peering into the glare of artificial lights, it seemed to him that a large crowd had assembled outside. He recognized the voices of the panch and Pala, too. That very moment, he ran into Finnah.

  ‘So bhai, what happened, then?’ Melu’s bapu asked in an excited, though breathless, voice.

  ‘Nothing really! What did you expect, henh?’ Finnah was speaking in an unusually hurried tone. ‘Neither the sarpanch nor any other responsible person from the village was there. We wore ourselves out unnecessarily, and came back, frustrated. DC sahab says, “I have no time for you.” When we met the SDM, he just turned up his nose and said, “Today, rickshaw wallahs are taking out a procession, so I’m on duty there.” We never saw the police officer. There was another officer, with a bushy beard like a wire mesh. He was the only one who heard us out, but said, “I’ll make sure that DC sahab gets to see your petition. Whatever is his hukam, I’ll convey it to you. I can do nothing more than that.” We kept sitting there until the evening, and then, we neither saw him nor any other officer. Finally, we came back, exasperated.’

  ‘Did you secure Dharma’s release or not?’ Melu’s bapu asked Finnah with genuine concern, ignoring the other details.

  ‘How could we secure his release?’ Finnah responded, his anger turning into anguish, ‘We met the thanedaar, who said, “Bhai, I arrested them under Section 751. Ask some responsible villagers to stand surety for them, and then take them away. On your request all I can do is to file the challan today itself. Nothing beyond that.” If the people of the village go, and some officer agrees to meet them, then things could be worked out, not otherwise. No? Now, where else could we look for help? The officer who grants the bail is busy with the rickshaw wallahs’ strike.’

  ‘Was there no other way of resolving this?’

  ‘They say, you sink only if you are unable to breathe, no?’ Finnah spoke somewhat testily, ‘When our own people didn’t set out from the village, who would have bothered about us, there? Chacha, what do I tell you? This matter is now a bad tangle. Anyway, I’ll go early tomorrow morning and meet the DC. They have strict instructions to listen to the complaints of army personnel,’ he said and went home.

  For a while, Melu’s bapu remained in a dilemma, and then he too simply returned home, lacking the courage to press the matter any further.

  After putting the tea to boil on the chulha, Dyalo walked indoors. That very moment, a sudden flame leapt out, as a dry piece of wood had caught fire. Melu’s bapu first looked at the rising flame and then as he was sitting down on the manji, his attention was claimed by the calf’s wounded leg. The calf stood, eyes closed, dispirited and exhausted. It was constantly shaking its wounded leg to ease the pain. For a while, he felt very strongly about the calf’s pain, almost as if it was his own. But after some time, it was as though his feelings had suddenly died. Though the calf was still in front of him, now looking at its swollen leg and open wound, he couldn’t empathize at all, or feel his heart stir.

  Just then, an unexpected sound—a shot fired from a double-barrelled rifle—startled Melu’s bapu out of his stupor. At the same time, he heard someone yelling threats, from the direction of the hills, close to the kassi. And then a sudden hush descended upon the other side of the dharamshala. That very moment, Finnah came out of his house, and looking towards the hills, said, ‘Chacha, it looks as though some trouble is brewing, where Wadhawa Singh’s fields are.’

  ‘It looks as though Dharma’s sons are protesting,’ Melu’s bapu nodded in agreement.

  ‘Dharma’s sons?’ Finnah looked at him in utter disbelief, ‘Are you in your senses, chacha? They have been in jail for so many days now. Throughout the day, we were knocking around, trying to secure their release. How could they have arrived so soon? They couldn’t have dropped from the sky.’

  Melu’s bapu found it strange that the thought of Dharma’s sons should hit him all of a sudden. Near the dharamshala, complete silence prevailed.

  ‘Oye! Which “brother-in-law” of mine dares to do this? If you want to live, then come out into the open… Oye!’ When Melu’s bapu heard this war cry, coming from the direction of the hills, he felt as though Modhu’s neem tree had begun to shed leaves.

  Finnah, too, heard the same shout, but he merely said, ‘Now, who is this one?’ and the next moment, he went bounding towards the wilderness.

  That very moment, Finnah’s mother came out muttering, and stood where he had stood. It was as if she was trying to say something for the benefit of Melu’s bapu, ‘Look at him. He is such a fool. Ever since he arrived, he hasn’t even had a cup of tea at home. Now again he’s gone off. Someone should ask him, bhai, what will you get by singeing your hands? Who knows who’s there? Look at the way he is going around, feeling important… These days, you can’t really trust anyone. People get worked up over nothing. Look at the way they’ve treated Dharam Singh. Until the evening, the children were howling. Only a while ago, I went and gave them some roti-tuk. We still have to go and fetch our utensils. It’s already dark. How can one be everywhere?’

  Melu’s bapu found her voice rather strange. Otherwise too, he felt as though he couldn’t understand a thing she was talking about. And speaking in this manner, she went back towards her house. After bolting the door from the outside, she, too, went off in the same direction in which Finnah had gone. Melu’s bapu felt as though she had simply taken a round of their house and had now come in through the back door. When he turned back, he saw Melu’s bebe walk in, with flour wrapped in her shawl, and a small bundle of knick-knacks balanced on her head.

  ‘O kurre, what is happening around us? What bad times have we fallen on? These damned ones are out to do their worst… Did you ever hear of such a thing? He tells me, “Take it if you want to, or else go elsewhere.” You son-beater, at least give me as much as I’m offering you; maize sells for a better price than wheat. May God bless us! He goes around with his tail between his legs. That bania is really the limit…he says, “Molasses will cost you one rupee and seventy five paisa a kilo. You buy if you want to buy, or else you go your way.” Then he tells me that he’ll accept only cash, and enter into no credit. Damned be his soul, where do they charge this rate? These people have no shame left in them. Henh! They are hell bent on overcharging you. They just want to skin you alive.’

  Grumbling, she walked into the kothri. For some time, she kept hurling all kinds of accusations at Dyalo, as though preparing sweet tea had depleted their stock of firewood, tea leaves and molasses, completely. When Dyalo, too, responded in an equally terse and acerbic manner, she felt annoyed and came out of the kothri. The moment she stepped into the courtyard, she heard the war cries, again, followed by the screams of a woman and a gunshot in the distance. A sudden dread enveloped her, choking her.

  ‘Waheguru, what has happened now, O, daughter of mine!’ Though in her initial spurt of nervous agitation, she had walked up to the door, she retreated the moment she saw two young boys, armed with gandasas, coming from the direction of the dharamshala and running towards the wilderness, across the hills. And the pandemonium created by the people assembled inside the dharamshala was as if dacoits had already raided the village. When she saw three–four people walking quickly, trailing the young men with gandasas, she lurched forward to ask them, but before she could do so, they had moved on towards the wilderness. They, too, were carrying lathis and gandasas, and it appeared as though a fight had already broken out between the two warring factions.

  Then suddenly Finnah’s mother’s howls and screams from the fields close by reached them. With the idea of asking Melu’s bapu to protect himself from the cold outside, Melu’s bebe admonished him gently, and then, throwing her shawl over her shoulders, as she stepped out of the door, saw Finnah’s mother, shrouded in darkness, coming from the opposite side, beating her chest with both her hands. The moment she saw her in this condition, she felt she had lost her balance. Three or four women came out of Finnah’s house, running, and encircled his mother instantly. Despite their repeated solicitations, Finnah’s mother couldn’t get herself to utter even a single word. Shouting, screaming, wailing and utterly disconsolate, she turned back, again and again, to look towards the wilderness as though her house, her family and all her possessions had been washed away by a flash flood. None could understand what could have transpired in such a short span of time. Seeing her in this condition, an unknown dread filled all the women. All she could say was, ‘I have been robbed, O, my villagers! I’ve lost everything, O, the people of my village!’

  While they continued to stand so, a man came rushing in from the wilderness, his feet pounding rather hard. His face and head were covered with a scarf, and he held a gandasa over his shoulder, firmly with both hands. Frightened by this sight, all the women retreated, slinking away towards the wall of Melu’s house.