The Mind Creative MARCH 2015 | Page 53

falsely denied having bought it. A quarrel had ensued and in the course of the argument, Abdur Rahman had stabbed him. In the middle of all the excitement, as the prisoner began abusing the fallen man, calling him all sorts of names, Mini suddenly appeared on the verandah of my house with her usual exclamation: "O Kabuliwallah! Kabuliwallah!" Rahmun's face lighted up as he turned towards her. He had no bag under his arm today, so she could not discuss the ‘elephant’ with him. She at once proceeded to the next question: "Are you going to your father-in-law's house?" Rahmun laughed and said: "That’s exactly where I am going, little one!" Then seeing that his reply did not amuse the child, he held up his fettered hands. and said, "I would have thrashed that old father-in-law, but my hands are bound!" Within a few days, Rahmun was sentenced and imprisoned for quite a few years on a charge of murderous assault. Time passed by, and the Kabuliwalah was soon forgotten. We carried on with life and the daily chores; and the thought of a once-free mountaineer spending his years in prison seldom or never occurred to us. Even my happy Mini, I am ashamed to say, forgot her old friend. New companions filled her life. As she grew older, she spent more of her time with other girls. She spent so much of time with her girlfriends that she hardly came to her father’s room, as she used to do. In fact, I hardly ever spoke to her. Many years passed by. It was autumn once again and we had made arrangements for our Mini's marriage. It was to take place during the Puja Holidays. With the goddess Durga returning to Kailas, the light of our home was also deemed to depart soon to her husband's house, and leave her father's in the shadow. The morning was bright. After the rains, there was a sense of absolution in the air, and the sun-rays looked like pure gold. So bright were they that they gave a beautiful radiance even to the sordid brick walls of our Calcutta lanes. Since early dawn the wedding-pipes had been sounding, and at each beat my own heart 53