A Journal of Mahatma Gandhi Antarrashtriya Hindi Vishwavidyalaya

I wanted to say, ‘History never dies’,
but I don’t know what made me keep my
silence.
It was past four now. Now we were in
a poor colony inhabited by the minority,
where there stood mud and thatched huts
of labourers or those who kept draught
horses.
Dogs were still barking. Morning was
already there for some of those houses. In
some house kitchen-fire was alive. Some
children were also seen in front of a few
houses... the women were seen doing something
and going and coming out of their
huts... And suddenly that accident occurred...
a terrible accident. There happened
to come in front of the car a little
minority boy, and also a little calf, at one
and the same moment. To Manto, who was
driving in a carefree mood, it was the very
time to take a decision within a flash of time.
No. If you prefer you may leave the
story here. I won’t ask you to continue
reading... for what you are going to read
now is impractical, loathesome and violating
the Human Rights as well.
In the last fraction of the second as I
was shutting my eyes in desperation I
chanced to catch a glimpse of the young
calf bolting away. ...Manto had steered the
car towards the minority boy...
No. I repeat. Please separate the cruel
words said here presently from the story.
We were back home.
Manto was standing near the window
bars. His spectacles were soiled with dust.
He was smoking recklessly.
‘You could have saved the boy,’ I
shrieked out.
‘Only one—either the boy or the calf.’
Manto shrieked out more vehemently. ‘The
casualty of a minority boy will be forgotten
within two hours. But, do you know what
the accidental death of a calf in that locality
means?’
Manto turned. He tore the papers on
the table into little bits and threw them into
the dustbin.
Manto disappeared, but the chair on
which he had been sitting was still rocking.
Musharraf Alam Zauqui describes himself as an obsessive, compulsive writer
in Hindi and Urdu. He has written numerous short stories and a novel
‘bayaan’ which centres round the tragedy of the Babri Masjid’s fall. He
is also involved with television and cinema. He lives in Delhi.
Shyamji Mishra, a teacher by profession, translates from Hindi to English.
132 :: January-March 2012