This Man of the Punjab

by Alastair Dunlop

(submitted to BBC Radio as a short story)

He lived, this man of the Punjab, in his mud house with his father. His wife too, was there with his children. One of these was newly born and was a girl, but the other was his son and would inherit the land when he would die.

In the house with them there lived the two buffaloes by whose strength the ground was tilled and the water drawn. From them his wife got fuel for the fire and milk. They were nearly as much to him as his land and he probably thought more of them than of his daughter who, after all, would cost him much money when she was to marry.

The village in which he lived was not a large one; not more than seven hundred people counting both communities and the untouchables. He lived with the rest of those of his belief in one area, while separate from them lived the people of the other community. In another corner or the village lived the sweepers and their kind, kept apart by the system under which they lived and the nature of their work.

His land had been in his family for many years and was his life. He would die for it, for he knew that without it he and all his family would be bound to die anyway. By western standards it was little, only about three acres, but it was to go to his son, and to his son's son, and beyond that his imagination could not take him.

Until a short time ago there had been no thought in his village of unrest or of politics or of 'freedom'. Everyone had been content as long as there was water and the crops were sufficient. There I had been no great thought of religion nor that a man might be an enemy and should be killed because or a difference in birth or name. It had in fact been quite the opposite. He had many friends in the village amongst the men of the other community. When they met in the fields or under the big tree in the centre of the village they made jokes and called each other brother, and would eat each other's food and drink from the same vessel without thought of pollution. But lately there had been talk or great changes in the country. The white Raj was to go and the people would be ruled by their own kind.

For years, so he had been told, his leaders had been fighting for this and had suffered and gone to prison so that he could be free.

In his village there was a strange rumour. Men said that when the day of freedom came they must make the country round them safe for the people of their own religion. If they did not do this the opposite community would kill them and take away their land. If he was not prepared to fight, he might lose his land.

After much of this talk he heard that men were collecting spears and that even home made bombs were concealed in the houses of some of the more hot-headed. So he went to the village blacksmith and asked him if this were so, and whether men were buying weapons. When he was told that it was true he bought a spear blade, the end of which was threaded so that if need be he could screw it into the end of his staff and protect his land and cattle if any should try to steal them.

The stories circulating round his village grew more and more alarming and there was mounting tension and fear of attack throughout his district. No longer did the members of the two communities call each other 'brother' when they met. Rather they passed one another at a distance so that they should have warning if they were to be attacked. Sentries were posted on rooftops at night to prevent raids and spears and axes were carried openly unless the Police or Army were in the vicinity.

One day his village was visited by an Army patrol, and all the villagers collected to hear what the white officer had to tell them. He said that there were many soldiers in the district and that all men must live in peace with their neighbours as they had done for so long. And they all agreed with him.... even those of the other side. Then the officer told them that if ever they were in danger they should come to him at his headquarters, which were in the nearest town, and that he would send men to see that they were protected. Then he went away.

As the days passed the tension increased and all the people that he spoke to were becoming more and more frightened. Sleep was difficult, for apart from the fear which was in his heart, the fear of losing his land or his son, the sentries on the roof-tops kept wailing and shouting to let their friends know that they were awake and that all was well.

Then one day he heard that rioting had started in the chief city of the district and that many people of both religions had been killed. As this news passed from mouth to mouth the hatred, which had been under the surface in his own village, began to come to the top. Some of the men that he met who had once been his friends threatened him and bragged of their strength and said that soon they would take his land and his wife from him and would kill him and all those that believed as he did.

He was frightened now and he thought that if he went to tend his crops he would be attacked and killed while he was alone in his fields, and so he and others of his religion banded together and went out to the land in parties carrying their axes and spears and staffs and took courage in being together and hoped that in numbers they might be safe.

But worse was to come, for he heard that a village not many miles from his own had been attacked by an armed mob and that many men and women and children of his own creed had been killed. He heard too that the attackers had burnt the houses that they had raided and had looted the grain and had taken many young girls away for their pleasure and to force them to renounce their religion.

Now the people of his faith were frightened to such an extent that their manhood left them and they cared little for what might happen. Sometimes as they talked they said, "We are strong and we are armed. Once we ruled India. Shall we leave our fields that they may be taken by those who do not believe as we do? Will we allow our women to be carried away and used for other men's pleasure and our cattle to be slaughtered in the byre?" And each of them answered, "No" but in their hearts they ware now cowards and each of them thought that life was more than all these things and that it was better to live than to die.

But they were to be tested, for one day shortly after noon they saw their enemies collecting in the fields all round the village in the woods and gardens nearby. Some were on horses and some on foot but all were carrying some form of weapon. There were spears and axes and swords which they could see in the bright sunlight. And some had shotguns and even rifles which they had stolen or bought from deserters from the Army. And all of them were shouting their war-cries, although to be sure, a few of these had been born in the schools and colleges of Delhi and Bombay and Lahore. Some of them too had been slogans which their leaders had shouted as they went to jail for the cause of freedom. The cause which had now been won.

All his people were frightened and in their fear they turned to the village headman to help them, for he was a servant of the Government although a man of the other faith and it was his duty to protect and guide them. He said that he would do this and told them that they should all collect in the big house in the centre of the village and that when they were all there he would lock the doors on the outside and when the mob came that wished to kill them, he would say that all had left in the night and their enemies seeing the locked doors would believe him and go away.

But somehow he did not think that the headman was telling the truth and he decided, although all the others were of a different mind, that he would go and hide in his fields which he knew as he knew his son's face.

He therefore climbed the wall at the back of his house and made his wife and father and children do the same and he went and hid in his fields in a place where the crop was high and where there was no path on which the enemy might approach. And he watched the village

After all his friends had gathered in the big house as they had been told to do, the mob came in and it was met by the headman who had said that he would protect the villagers against their enemies. He saw that the headman talked with the leaders of the mob and then he saw that they were collecting wood and taking it to the big house where his friends were hiding and he realised what they were going to do. And he wept, silently, for fear that he flight be heard.

Then he remembered the officer who had come to his village not many days before and had said that if ever they were in danger they should come and tell him and he would send men who would protect them and kill their enemies. So, telling his wife and father to remain hidden in the fields with the children, he started to run the eight miles to where the officer had his headquarters.

For the first four or five hundred yards he was cunning and ran doubled up where the crops were highest and would conceal him from the people in the village but after that he straightened and ran as fast as he could. But the raiders had been cunning too and had thought that perhaps someone would try to escape, some worker in the fields maybe who had not been present when the headman gave his advice or a visitor from somewhere nearby and they had posted pickets on all the paths which led from the village.

This he realised when he heard a shout and felt a quick pain burn its way down his back. It was a sword slash but only the very point had touched him and spurred by this and by his fear he ran on and away from the man who had tried to kill him.

He ran on, avoiding those villages where he knew that men of the other religion lived, until he reached the town where the officer had told them that they would get help. There he met a soldier who took him to where the officer was sitting at his table. He went in covered with sweat and with his shirt soaked with blood from his wound and his eyes swollen with tears he had shed in the fields and as he ran, and he told the officer what he had seen.

Soon he was travelling back over the ground that he had covered with such difficulty before and with him in the truck were men armed with rifles and machine guns, and as they raced along he spoke to the sepoys who were sitting with him and was surprised when they called him 'brother' for they were not of his religion.

But as they approached the village he knew that he was too late for he could see the long, straight column of smoke from the fire in which his friends were being burnt alive reaching into the still afternoon air and its slow easy rising seemed to mock the agony from which it sprang.

As they got closer they could see the raiders scattering into the crops, warned by the pickets of the arrival of men stronger than they, and when they drove into the centre of the village where the big house had been, all that there was for him to see was its ashes and those of the men and women and children that he had once known.

Then, as he wept and beat his breast in sorrow for them, he suddenly remembered his wife and children that he had left with hip father in the fields, and asking -the officer for men to protect him while he left the village, he went out to his land, the land that he would leave to his son and to his son's son.

He found them, first his son and his newly born daughter lying there amongst the trampled corn in their young blood, which had spilled from them as their throats had been cut. A little distance away the father lay dying, slowly, of a spear thrust in his belly. His father told him where his wife was. She had been too young and pretty to kill, at any rate for a little while, and she had been taken away by the mob leader himself, thrown across his horse. Then the father died and the man was left on his land.

Now he had nothing. He was free.