Page 35 of A Shimla Affair
Were the posters another way to refresh the memories of the recent clashes between Hindu and Muslim men?
‘We must take these down!’ I said, turning to Sood as I pulled them off the wall.
‘It’s getting very late for you, Miss Mistry.’
‘Help me get those!’ I said, pointing to a few posters that were too high for me to reach.
With shaking hands, Sood tore them.
But what of the man? What if he stuck the hateful posters on other walls too? Once the tonga was fixed, we decided that I would go back to the hotel while Sood would stay and look for the man.
All the way back, my thoughts were occupied.
The man and his posters had made it clear that people were knowingly stirring discontent between Hindus and Muslims. Perhaps this was a doing of the British. I remembered Lord Beeson’s words, ‘We don’t interfere.’ But what if they did? If we fought each other, there would be no time to fight the British. Did they sow conflict and then retreat? It was a discomforting thought, but I could fully imagine them to play such a game—entering the gates of the hotel, I was happy to walk across the familiar grounds.
Guruji’s instructions were clear: the Shimla Circle must plan our every move, every second of the day of the ball. Late night meetings were organized at the hotel, so that Guruji and Sood could pass along the Shimla Circle’s orders to my sisters, Ratan Babu and me. In turn, we gave them any information we had gained.
The first time Guruji arrived, Khushilalji, who by then knew something was going on, looked at Guruji with suspicion and accusation. But when Noor explained that Guruji was an old friend of our father’s, relief broke on to Khushilalji’s face, and he touched Guruji’s feet.
‘You looked familiar, Sahib, although I could not say how. I must have seen you somewhere with Mistry Sahib.’
Guruji laughed, placing a hand on Khushilalji’s head. ‘Indeed, you must have, though I am afraid we looked a lot younger back then.’
‘We would love to see that photograph again, Guruji. Khushilalji, bring around the tea.’
‘Who will be at the ball?’ Guruji asked once we had all settled in the salon.
Noor took out a list. ‘Among the big names? Lord Beeson—’
‘Lord Commander Ripon’s aide. That’s a problem. He’s an unlikeable man, and unfortunately, very sharp.’
‘I concur,’ Afreen said.
‘He can be handled though,’ Sood said lazily. I was impressed by his confidence and wondered what his life story might have been like, that made him think and act so. He was always so sure, so confident, yet he spoke very little. I wondered if I could be like him: smart and outspoken, quiet and mysterious.
Guruji went on, ‘What’s interesting is that Beeson doesn’t like the Viceroy. He was always against the Viceroy’s appointment, and hand to heart, I would say Beeson’s up to something nasty. It wouldn’t be a pity if he accidently got shot as well … who else?’
I didn’t know if Guruji was joking or not, and looked at Noor, who maintained a straight face.
‘The Viceroy, of course.’
‘Well, obviously … the man had fought tooth and nail for his position. He’s ruthless, doesn’t forgive anyone who stands in his way. Don’t feel too bad about taking him out.’
‘That’s crude of you,’ Noor said.
‘No, it’s not. You don’t know what you are dealing with here. With his position, he could have done some good. Yet, he simply doesn’t care about Indians. For him, not only are we nothispeople, we are notpeople. He doesn’t consider us human. To fight him, you have to adopt the same attitude.
‘He’s so in love with himself that he doesn’t know that Beeson hates him. But Lord Ripon, the Commander-in-Chief is his greatest appointment, they make quite a duo. Lord Commander Ripon is the brain behind all that they do, and he is also cruel, but in a different way; if the Viceroy is vengeful, Lord Ripon is cold and calculating. He’s basically running the show for the Viceroy, which makes sense, because the Viceroy is such a man of routine and pleasure, he wouldn’t like it changed anyway. He goes away to nap every evening and afternoon, rumours say, can you believe that? He will claim a headache, leave a meeting full of men and go to his room, they wouldn’t hear from him for an hour! A man of his stature excusing himself like that!’
Something struck me. ‘He’s doing opium! It all adds up!’
I told the others what Charles told me, that the Viceroy likes his hit of opium.
With widened eyes, Guruji looked at me for a few seconds. ‘Of course,’ he said, his eyes much farther away. ‘That’swhat he’s doing. How could I have missed it … the others know it, of course, but they let everyone think he is resting.’
There was a pause as Guruji mulled over what I had just told him. I could practically hear his mind whirring, and with an effort, he brought himself back. ‘Who else?’
‘Well,’ I said, looking at Afreen for affirmation to go on, ‘With the Viceroy will be Wagner.’
