‘Sahib, the Sikh army was betrayed by its officers.’

‘That is what the defeated always say—we were let down by our commanders.’

Hodson Sahib had a very short temper; I did not want to get him gussa by arguing with him. I said in my mind: ‘If the Sikhs were led by good generals instead of traitors, they would have marched up to your London town and fucked your mothers.’

I took off his socks and rubbed the soles of his feet. He shut his eyes and began to ghurr ghurr like a cat. After a while he said, ‘Theek hai. You can go.’

I saluted and left.

Next morning when I went to see how the boys who had been wounded were doing, I did not find them under the keekar tree. I went to the hospital. They were not there either. A sweeper told me that they had died at night and their bodies had been taken away to be cremated.

These Dilliwallas would not let us breathe. At midnight when we were fast asleep they would start firing their cannon at us. On the hottest afternoon when we were dozing under the shades of trees they would creep up like thieves and go thah thah with their carbines. They sent emissaries to our camp. To the Mussalmans they sent Mussalmans with the Quran and begged them to jihad against the pig-eating firangi. To us Sikhs they sent Brahmins carrying Ganges water in brass-pots asking us to murder the cow-eating maleechas. They offered us hundred rupees for every gora’s head and service with more pay. We remained true to our salt. We took the money they brought. Then we strung them up on neem trees.

The sahibs also employed spies. The chief was a one-eyed man called Rajab Ali. He came to our camp whenever he wanted and went back to the city. They said he had the ear of the king. And he did a lot of phus phus in Hodson Sahib’s ear and took money from him.

The blacks liked Hodson Sahib but the goras did not care for him. I saw this when a paltan called the Guides arrived from Peshawar. Hodson Sahib had often talked of the times ‘Jab ham Guides me tha . . .’ From the way he spoke, the Guides must have been the greatest warriors in the world. I didn’t know why he left them. Only once he mentioned some ‘hanky panky’. However as the Guides marched in and saw Hodson Sahib, the black men broke their ranks and ran up to embrace him. What a sight it was! Pathans, Biloches, Sikhs all embracing Hodson Sahib! The sahibs looked away as if they did not know him.

One day a gora asked me who I was.

‘Hodson’s Horse,’ I replied coming to attention. He laughed, turned to the other goras and said, ‘Hodson’s arse.’ They all laughed. I did not understand what made the sahibs laugh.