A Journal of Mahatma Gandhi Antarrashtriya Hindi Vishwavidyalaya

He was watching me in a strange manner.
Those who were sitting on the bench were
also watching me continuously. I just stood
there, as if my feet had been nailed to
the ground. My legs shook. My heart
thudded. I was thinking, these people would
first rob me, and then kill me.’
‘Then?’ someone asked with curiosity.
‘Then!’ Raka took some deep breaths,
perhaps twenty or so, and then again looking
into the past continued, ‘I turned to go.
I had begun to walk back when the owner
of the kahwa house called me. I was
confused. I couldn’t decide what I should
or should not do. Meanwhile, he called
me again. Feeling scared I went into the
kahwa house. He looked at me; I looked
at him. He gestured to the people sitting
on the bench. They made room for me,
vacated their place for me. I was told
to sit down. With fear, hesitation and feeling
like a complete stranger I sat down on
the bench. I was more scared now. I was
thinking: first of all they would beat me
up and then, my body covered with blood,
they would throw me into the street.’
‘It was natural for you to be afraid,’
someone said.
‘Undoubtedly,’ looking at his old driver
friends Raka Masih said. And then he entered
the past once again.
‘Sitting on that bench, I was trying
to imagine what they were going to do
to me. And then, pouring the kahwa into
a copper tumbler, the owner offered it
to me saying, ‘This is for you, sir.’
I was terror struck. The feeling of fear,
the danger of being killed, being a stranger
there, the frightening stories about those
people and that tumbler of kahwa offered
to me so hospitably—they somehow did
not go together. Immediately after offering
kahwa to me, he placed before me some
kulcha in a china clay plate with a sort
of design on it. Then he said, ‘Babu Saib
(Sahib), this is for you.’
‘For me? But I didn’t order it,’ I said
with hesitation and fear. I was still afraid.
“It’s all right, please take it,’ he said
innocently.
‘How much is it?’ I was worried about
its price.
‘No charge,’ that man said. He paused,
and then looking at me with steady eyes
said, ‘You are my guest. Can I take money
from the guest and send myself to dozakh
(hell)? So, Babu Saib, drink your kahwa,
it will do you good in winter.’
‘The kahwa was exceptionally
good. Those people also were remarkable.
I didn’t know them but now I
was not afraid of them. I ate the
kulcha. I drank the kahwa. After
thanking the owner, when I rose to
go everything had changed. Everything
looked beautiful and attractive.
I felt that everything around me had
January-March 2012 :: 87