My hands and knees shook as if I had fever. My heart thumped against my chest—dhug, dhug, dhug. I could not talk. When we reached the headquarters I lay down on a charpoy. They gave me a mug of tea and two aspirin tablets. I put a cushion on my face to blot out the scene I had enacted. It was of no use. I saw the whites of the eyes of that Mussalman I had murdered. My ear-drum resounded with the scream, ‘Hai Allah.’ It went on and on and on till I was exhausted. I was not able to stand on my feet till the afternoon. Then I had a bath and felt better. I examined the things I had stolen. I put aside some things to take home and put the rest back in the other suitcase. I took the things to Sadar Bazaar. Since many Muslim shops had been looted I could not get very much. Nevertheless I came back with more than a hundred-and-fifty rupees. The radio alone fetched me a hundred.

On my way home I bought a flashlight for my father and a coloured muslin dupatta for my mother. I also bought some fruit and a small tin of clarified butter. I waited till it was dark so that no one in the Sikh’s house would see me come in with my big, new suitcase. I went straight into the garage. My mother was baking chappaties on an earthen stove.

I told my mother that I had spent my month’s wages to get these things. I spread the dupatta on her shoulder. She hugged me and cried. She heard my father’s footsteps and ran out to get him. She was so excited that all she could say was ‘Vekh, vekh (See, see).’ I took the lantern from my father’s hand and gave him the flashlight. He was like a child with a new toy. He pressed the button and played the beam on the walls of the garage. They tried out the shoes, patted the wallets and the suitcase. They were very happy.

I could not sleep. I was afraid of shutting my eyes. I was frightened of the ghost of the man I had killed. He kept on crying, ‘Hai Allah’ in my ears. I waited for the crunch of my father’s footsteps on the gravel and his cry, ‘Khabardar ho!’ to reassure me that I was safe. I began to shiver and moan. I pretended I was having a nightmare. My mother woke up and asked me what was wrong. I moaned louder. She came over and took my head in her lap. I put my arms round her waist and feigned sleep. She rubbed my back. After a while she lay down beside me. My shivering stopped. I felt warm and safe and unafraid. I tightened my arms round her bosom, put my right leg over her and drew her closer to me. Then I fell asleep.