In June the sun scorches

The skies are hot

And the earth burns like an oven.

The waters give up their vapours,

Yet it burns and scorches relentlessly.

When the sun’s chariot passes the mountain tops,

Long shadows stretch across the land.

The cicadas call from the glades,

And the beloved seeks the cool of the evening.

If the comfort she seeks be in falsehood,

There will be sorrow in store for her.

If it be in truth,

Hers will be a life of joy.

Spake the Guru: My life and life’s ending are at the will of the Lord

To Him have I surrendered my soul.

The Guru had left out reference to the dust in his description of the month of Asadh (May/June). First there were the devils spiralling their way across the parched land.

They were followed by storms which came with blinding fury, flinging dark brown earth in fistfuls in people’s faces. Some summers, as in the summer of 1942, there were no dust-devils or dust storms but only dust. The sky turned form a colourless gray to copper red and a fine hot powder started to fall. It fell gently day after day and covered everything under a thick layer of khaki. It got into the eyes till they hurt; it got into the month and one felt the grit between the teeth; if one turned the end of a handkerchief on one’s finger-tip inside the ears or nostrils, it came out muddy. Trees stood in petrified stillness with the weight of dust heavy on their leaves. There was neither sunshine not shadow. The sun had become a large orange disc suspended in an amber sky; its light was dissipated in the atmosphere. It was intensely hot without even a suspicion of breeze anywhere.

Sabhrai wiped her forehead with a towel and pressed it on the Holy Book. She spread the cover on it and looked up at her family. They were all there including the dog and they were all well and happy. That was enough for her.

Her husband ran his hand gingerly behind his neck and remarked: ‘I’ve never had prickly heat like this before. It feels like a thousand thorns stuck into the back.’

Sabhrai took no notice of the complaint. They had spent several disturbed nights and everyone’s nerves were a little frayed. ‘Will you say the supplicatory prayer?’ she asked, heaving herself up. ‘Don’t forget to thank Him for Sher’s success at the election. Also mention Beena’s examination: if the Guru wills she will pass even if her papers have not been good.’