At that time, the temperature at the India-China border at NEFA and Ladakh had dipped below zero. A thin layer of snow covered the high hills and dense forests of the frontiers. The Indian soldiers from the Kumaon regiment, JK Militia, the Sikh regiment, Gorkha regiment and Assam Rifles, clad in cotton uniforms, and the Chinese soldiers, clad in uniforms padded with cotton wool, were engaged in fierce fighting. The blood that sprung from the bodies of the soldiers created floral patterns on the great white canvas. Leaving behind the tangled web of diplomacy, the two countries were fast moving towards a deadly conflict.

Five

Five

‘What is this? What the hell is this, Burra babu?’ the manager of Samdang tea estate, William Addison, was pointing at a specific portion of the Kamjari book and yelling at the head clerk, Radhanath. His voice was ablaze with anger; it was as if a tiger was roaring.

Radhanath’s heart was pounding in apprehension. What had gone wrong today? It was a routine matter to place the Kamjari book before the manager every day. The book was a daily record of every job done during the day in the estate. Every detail of the sequence of work had to be recorded. The number of labourers noted in the book had to be tallied with the number of labourers actually working in the garden. It was easy for the head clerk to manipulate the log book and earn some extra money. But it was not possible with William Addison. He was a hawk-eyed manager. The slightest mistake could cost the head clerk his job.

‘Here, what have you written here? How come the number of cowherds in the book doesn’t tally with the number deployed? There are four extra in the book,’ Addison said, pushing the book towards the head clerk. ‘If these kinds of irregularities continue, you will lose your job, remember that. Now leave.’

Radhanath picked up the Kamjari book with trembling hands and left the room pale-faced. Addison picked up the phone and instantly transformed from a tough tea garden manager to a fun-loving young man.