A Journal of Mahatma Gandhi Antarrashtriya Hindi Vishwavidyalaya

you are three years older than me.”
“Oh, Ruby, once upon a time we were
also young.”
“Please don’t remind me of those days.
Let’s go to the other room.
Grace darling will you play for me
for a while? My mind has started
woolgathering.’’
“All right let’s go.”
“What’s the time? It must be getting
on to be afternoon.”
“Oh, how I miss that wall clock! A
pity that we sold it for fifty rupees. But
there was no way out. For many days
I had been pining for a sip of brandy.’’
“Grace, we have still some pilau left.
Get up. We shall eat in the dining room.
Today I have laid the mats on the tablethe
ones which Major Douglas had sent
to Aunt Lucy from Singapore.”
“You should have taken out those silver
spoons too. There are only four of them
left. We are not going to sell them. We
must live in style. They should know that
we belong to the race which has ruled
over these people for ages. The wretch,
Dhanpat! He was our butler and yet he
had the audacity to purchase our cutlery.
Oh, Ruby, why didn’t we also go away?
Why didn’t we?”
“But Grace, where could we go? We
were born here and grew up here. And
that beautiful railway bungalow where we
lived. This city is like a native land to
us. We are in love with it, aren’t we,
Grace?”
“There was a time when we were in
love with it, but not now. Is this hill
station still the same as it was then? And
are we also still the same? These people
hate us. They will kill us.”
“Get up, Grace. Please get up ... This
house is still beautiful. If . only I could
get the roof painted.”
“But we are going to sell the house,
aren’t we?”
“Of course, yes. We are not going to
spend the next summer in this house.
Before I become stone blind I want to
stand on the London Bridge and look at
the rippling water of the Thames from
there.”
Before they know the December
morning has merged into afternoon.
The last patch of sunlight has gradually
dwindled and then disappeared. From the
drawing room Grace and Ruby have moved
into the other room called ‘Noon Tide’.
Outside ‘Noon Tide’ lies an easy wicker
chair whose green colour is peeling off
in scaly patches. Near the chair lie some
flower pots some of which hold geraniums
which look flaming red in the creeping
winter cold. Ruby and Grace are sitting
in rocking chairs facing each other. Grace
is steadily looking at her swollen finger
knots while Ruby is dozing, a fluffy fat
January-March 2012 :: 113