Chapters (25)
- Cover
- Title page
- The Burning Elephant
- Gods and Beggars
- Blessings and Curses
- The Mighty Flood
- The Grand Lodge
- The Sages
- A Dangerous Man
- A Sad Mystery
- The Bet
- The Land of Opportunity
- The Eyes of God
- The Scribe
- The Miraculous Calf
- The Golden Temple
- The Goddess
- Black Smoke
- A Stone’s Throw
- Into Dust
- The Police Station
- Marigold
- The River
- Kali Whispers
- The Good Son
Govinda held onto his father’s hand. He was scared now. He had never seen men and women angry like this before. They seemed capable of hurting others. They looked as though they wanted to inflict a terrible violence on someone, anyone.
‘The assassins were two khaki-uniformed bodyguards wearing beards and turbans that identified them as Sikhs. One of them, Beant Singh, she had known for ten years,’ the man on the radio announced.
‘Treacherous fucking traitors,’ somebody roared. ‘There will be consequences for such actions. We will teach them about karma.’
The people in the cafe started to smash furniture and break glasses.
Govinda wished he was invisible, he stood very still, then he noticed a Sikh man, who tried to make his way out of the shop silently but was stopped by a group of irate men at the door. They pushed the Sikh into a corner. One of the men grabbed a bottle, smashed it and shoved the glass in the Sikh’s face. Govinda felt pain between his shoulders. He gasped for breath and no longer heard the radio broadcast. He had not seen violence like this before. It was so shocking that he had to bite his hand and push into his father, to get hold of himself so that he could remain standing. The Sikh was bleeding from his face. He tried to hold onto his wound and stop the blood with his hands but the blood ran down his arms, onto the floor and created a pool at his feet. The men pushed the Sikh outside. They grabbed at his dastar and pulled at it. As it started to unravel, the Sikh’s hair loosened and fell over his shoulders. They hit him in the chest and head and nose. Over the clamour and din in the cafe, Govinda heard bone and cartilage crack and the man’s sobs. The sound of the angry men got louder as they tried to beat the Sikh to death. They sounded like ferocious dogs grunting and yelling. They hit and pulled at the bloody body that flopped in front of them. The radio was turned up to full volume now and Govinda could again hear bits and pieces of the broadcast.
He heard a mention of Sikh guards. Then the broadcaster spoke of a decision to have the Indian army root out Sikh extremists at the Golden Temple in Amritsar, the Sikhs’ holiest shrine.