‘I’ll press your legs and you will sleep much better. Take off your clothes; it is so hot.’

Sher Singh was late for breakfast. Shunno knocked at the door twice to say that the others were waiting. He quickly wound his turban (his father objected to people coming to the sitting-room or dining-room bareheaded), brushed his little beard and tied a muslin band round his chin to press it. He hurried to join the family at the breakfast table. He interrupted his father’s monologue with a loud ‘Sat Sri Akal’ meant for everyone.

‘Sat Sri Akal,’ replied his mother. ‘Now that he has no college to go to, Sherji finds it hard to open his eyes before midday.’

‘I came back rather late last night. Our meeting did not end till then.’

Buta Singh resumed his discourse. ‘As I was saying, these Englishmen take a lot of interest in other people, and it is not just curiosity, it is a genuine concern with their problems. Now Taylor knows all of you by name, what you are doing, how you have fared in your examinations—everything. He has an excellent memory.’

‘They have learnt from Americans,’ answered Sher Singh. ‘They have reduced human relationships to a set of rules. They say you must know the name of the person you are talking to and use it as often as possible. You must know his or her interests and talk about them and never of your own. They write down whatever they have discussed with anyone in their diaries and refresh their memories before the next meeting. It does not mean much because their real desire is to create a good impression about themselves. They are not one bit concerned with the affairs of the person they happen to be talking to.’

Buta Singh did not like the way his son twisted everything he said in favour of Taylor. ‘I don’t know what you mean. Mr Taylor asked me about your election and where you planned to go for the summer. He also asked you to come and see him. He does not take that sort of interest in everyone or invite people to see him. Many rub their noses on his threshold and are not allowed to enter.’

‘He must have politely mentioned my name.’

Buta Singh flared up. ‘I don’t understand this attitude. Even if he mentioned your name out of politeness, you can at least pay him a courtesy call.’

‘What will I say to him?’

Buta Singh was too angry to be coherent. ‘I don’t know what is happening to young men today. I wonder when you will learn about the world.’

Once more an academic discussion had turned into an unpleasant personal argument between father and son. Sabhrai stepped in. ‘Why don’t you go to see the Deputy Commissioner if he wants to meet you?’