Page 43 of A Shimla Affair
‘What’s your name?’ Afreen asked her.
‘Bina.’
It appeared that Bina was telling the truth, I doubted that she knew much more than what she had told us. Yet, it defied logic—if Bina had just been sent away to deliver post in Kalka, why did the townspeople riot thinking that she had been kidnapped by the Muslims? Who spread the lie? Why didn’t her family try to clear the air?
‘Who else knows about this?’ Begum Jaan asked.
‘Only my family, and the men who found me and Iqbal. I don’t know who they are, but they must be from Shimla otherwise why would they do that to us?’
‘But who brought you here?’
‘I don’t know,’ she said tearfully, ‘Some men from the town. But they were very strict and told me to stay here.’
We let Bina go back inside and walked for a while in silence, each trying to figure out the pattern of events.
‘It was on the back of this girl’s “abduction” that so many died in the riots; that Ratan’s mother died,’ Afreen said, ‘Yet it’s clear that none of it was about her! These riots didn’t just happen, they were obviously orchestrated. Some people out there want the Hindus and Muslims murdering each other. Some people who see a benefit in this strife.’
I thought of the man I had seen that evening, the one who had been putting up the hateful posters. ‘But … who? And why?’
‘Your guess is as good as mine. But something sinister is going on in this town for sure and I don’t think it will spare us for too long.’
Begum Jaan turned towards us, thoughtful and morose. ‘Maybe I will have to return and look for these men. Nalini Bibi, there is a secret meeting next week in Shimla for the mysterious guest they’ve brought to town. I have absolutely no idea what it is about, all I know is that the man they are meeting is an English Parliamentarian. Will your man be there?’
By ‘man’ I presumed she meant Charles. I blushed but recalling what he had told me at The Cecil, shook my head.
She stared at us, as if trying to survey whether we could be trusted with what she was about to say next. Then, making up her mind, she said, ‘I have a feeling that this meeting will decide our futures, especially for the Muslims. It may be that the man from London has been brought in to strike a deal with the Hindus and create a rift among us. I have to find out what will be talked about.’
She looked at us pointedly. ‘I do not understand English. If you want, you can come with me and help me find out. I know that you are up to something. You want to save the hotel, Iunderstand that. It will help you to know what is going on and use it to save the hotel. I gain from this, but so do you.’
I looked at Afreen to see what she made of Begum Jaan’s proposition. ‘And how do you suggest we spy on a high-level confidential meeting?’ Afreen asked.
‘By going there. I want to go myself, and you come with me.’ She made it sound so simple.
Surely, this was crossing a line. Surely, this was the most dangerous task, out of all that we had done so far. Surely, we couldn’t participate in this madness. Yet, Afreen nodded.
Perhaps I needn’t go to America after all, as there was no dearth of drama right here in Shimla.
We were deep in the forest, training with the Shimla Circle. They taught us how to shoot with revolvers and rifles, to aim with precision and keep our arms steady, to take cover and to make way by firing. We learnt how to handle the heavier guns, but didn’t practise with them: it was wartime, and we had to save our ammunition for the final day. Even the Germans had stopped smuggling guns into India, we were told.
At first, I couldn’t believe that my sisters and I would be allowed to hold guns. ‘But we have never had any professional training,’ I had protested weakly.
Azad Bhai had laughed. ‘Girl, I have trained hundreds of people in the Bhagat Fauj to use guns. They are also not professionals. They are common people just like you and I, with many women among them. If they can learn, so can you.’
‘On the evening of the ball,’ Guruji said, ‘I have to be among the guests, and lead the Viceroy away smoothly and withoutsuspicion, on my own. I will be there to get you four out with our men, before it’s found that the Viceroy is missing.’
We hadn’t told the Shimla Circle anything about Lady Sinclair or our intentions to break into the meeting. We needed to hold these cards close to our chest, until we were sure of what they meant.
‘And how should we have you at the ball?’ Noor asked sceptically, ‘There would be no Indians. It would be odd if you were suddenly the only Indian present at the ball, an unknown name and face. They would immediately be suspicious, perhaps the Viceroy might not even be allowed inside if you are there.’
‘Well, maybe I have to be disguised as a servant then. You will introduce me to the other servants before, and I will be given easier duties. I’m afraid pouring the British drinks is a job responsibility I have never had before.’
Noor, Afreen and I looked at each other. Having Guruji there among the servants, that too on the day of the ball, would not be an easy feat. The other servants would immediately wonder and talk about why we would bring a new man in on such an important day.
‘It’s very important,’ said Ratan Babu, ‘that appearances be kept and managed down to the minutest detail. At the slightest doubt, it will be game over for us. They may not be expecting it, but the British are very good at spotting something amiss. And somehow, the bastards always get lucky.’
Afreen was positive that the Lord would favour us, that he would not abandon us in our quest to win India her freedom. All we had to do was take the first steps.
‘Theyarevery good,’ Guruji said, ‘So we just have to be better. Your job here, solely, is to get the Viceroy to the bunkers on the pretext of the opium. We will handle the rest.’
