On the wireless people talked about sectarian violence, socialism and the need for capital. This made no sense to Govinda. ‘A curfew has been imposed,’ repeated the foreign broadcaster. ‘Complete censorship is being enforced.’

A string of experts commented on each other’s remarks. The crowd in the cafe was no longer listening. They watched as the Sikh man was hit and at the same time pushed on the street. They continued beating the Sikh until one of the men succeeded in lighting a match and set him on fire. A sudden rush of flames ran over his skin and clothes. A woman holding an infant looked on in tears.

‘Is he damaged like the elephant?’ Govinda asked his father.

‘Yes, he is,’ Sunil Seth wept too.

‘The world as we knew it is finished,’ said a voice in the crowd. The air was filled with smoke. This confused and frightened Govinda, and he wondered what the Sikh had done to be killed like this.

‘People are good,’ Sunil Seth said, ‘and in the end goodness comes through. I believe that, I really do.’ And with that he dropped his gaze to the floor and repeated the word as if it were one he had never heard before. ‘Good,’ he said, ‘Good...’

‘Bullshit,’ said a waiter. ‘You tell me tomorrow if you think people are good. Take your son home now.’

Govinda raised his hands and rested his head on his father’s shoulder. He breathed in and out deeply, trying not to think about the angry men, the burning Sikh and the bad things people did to each other.

Black Smoke

Black Smoke

Parents were milling around the school. The lane was now strangely altered: sorrow and sadness showed on the faces of children, vendors, cows, servants, beggars, even the shops and stalls; and though some were not yet overwhelmed, all looked deeply concerned. The rioters did not go about the lane at first but gradually their shouts could be heard. They were angry.

The shrieks of men, women and children at the windows and doors of their houses were enough to pierce the strongest heart in the world.

A Sikh man who worked in the market was dragged by the hair onto Serpent Lane near the school gate as his blue turban unfurled. A girl tried to move forward and help him but an avalanche of blows stopped her. At that moment Sunil Seth, Govinda and Tenzing rushed down from the headmaster’s apartment. They ran across the compound and arrived at the school gate.

‘Betrayed!’ shouted Sunil Seth.