The family took Buta Singh’s stories of his candour with English officials with a pinch of salt. ‘Did you tell him that Baisakhi is a big day for us and he should not ask people to be on duty?’ asked his wife fanning flies away with a hand towel.

‘He apologized himself. He said since I was the only one who really knew the people in the city, he had to rely on me. He also tried to bribe me with promise of a title. I said, “Sahib, you keep your titles. I don’t care for such things.”’

‘Sardarji,’ said Shunno chiming in, ‘there is a policeman with a bayonet at our gate since the morning.’

‘ Oh yes, I had almost forgotten that part of Mr Taylor’s orders,’ said Buta Singh in a lordly way. ‘The seniormost official in the district is to have a sort of decorative guard outside his house just like the one outside the Deputy Commissioner’s. I don’t think the other magistrates will like that.’

‘It will hurt their eyes,’ commented Sher Singh expanding with filial pride.

Buta Singh suddenly realized that his daughter had spent the whole of the day before at Wazir Chand’s. ‘How are you getting on with the preparations for your exams?’

‘I worked yesterday at Sita’s house,’ answered Beena. She made one attempt to clear her conscience. ‘We worked all morning and got so tired that nothing would stay in our heads. So we decided . . . . ’

‘No, no, it is foolish to force the mind to things it cannot retain,’ interrupted her father, trying to make up. ‘When I was at college, I never worked more than two hours at a stretch. When I got tired, I used to take a walk in the fresh air; fresh air is best. Some of the boys used to go off to the cinema after working all day. When the eyes are tired, the stuffy atmosphere in a cinema can do them no good.’

Beena did not have the nerve to mention the pictures after that. Sher Singh realized that and decided to keep the knowledge of his sister’s escapade to himself and question her when the occasion arose. Buta Singh had not finished talking about himself. ‘The Guru was merciful; yesterday went off peacefully. Our Sahib was scared: “There will be a Hindu-Muslim riot . . . The Communists will be up to mischief.” I said, “Sahib, don’t worry, all will be well.” He also wanted to know about your meeting.’

‘The place was packed to capacity.’

‘I hope you didn’t say anything indiscreet.’

‘O, no! There’s no such danger.’

‘You have to be careful. Many people would like to create mischief for the family. It is wise to be cautious.’

Buta Singh rose form the table, ‘I better inquire from Mr Taylor whether he slept well or had nightmares of riots.’ The family obliged with a laugh.