A Far Horizon (17 page)

He decided to take the route across The Park, where the shade of large trees would protect him. Under their broad branches he could rest and recover himself. He turned in the direction of The Park and was brought to a sudden halt. All the trees lay tossed about at odd angles, brutally cut down. It was as if he faced a battle ground with an army felled before him. A long furrow, resembling the burrowing of a giant mole, traversed the elegant park. The cloudless sky was now blatantly mirrored in the burnished waters of the Tank, denuded of its usual leafy border. The Chief Magistrate caught his breath in horror at the desecration. It did not improve his mood to remember that it was upon the orders of the Council of War that The Park now looked as it did. In the open furrows, coolies worked like seething insects in an uncovered anthill. The Chief Magistrate continued down The Avenue, his heart pounding uncomfortably.

Eventually he reached his home. The
chowkidar
was nowhere to be
seen. The usual orderly activity before the house, the bent backs of gardeners, the palanquin bearers squatting waiting in a row, the boy at the door, the
chowkidar
at the gate, was nowhere to be seen. Holwell was forced to struggle with his own front door, just as he had done with the Chaplain’s.

The same air of abandonment as had filled Bellamy’s home met him as he entered. The silence was intense. The buzzing of flies and the gritty taste of dust were now familiar to the Chief Magistrate. The Chaplain’s words, opaque with panic, returned clearly to him now. What Bellamy had said was true. They were utterly dependent upon Black Town.

T
he first to arrive was Pagal, the albino. He bent in obeisance to touch the pallet upon which Sati lay. Placing a sprig of jasmine beside her sleeping body, he seated himself before her. His wife squatted beside him, her mouth hanging open, revealing rotted teeth. Their children squirmed, suppressing giggles and chanting in whispers the sacred words.
Reverence.
Reverence
to
Her.
Reverence
to
the
Goddess.

Soon the hut grew hot and crowded. The fruit man, the vegetable man, and the seller of spices joined the albino and his family. Others pushed in behind them, squeezing into the tiny room. It had not taken long for news of the Goddess’s coming to spread. With the hut so full the growing crowd was forced to wait outside, talking quietly. Inside, only the albino’s unruly children broke the silence. Sati still lay asleep on the pallet, her back to the visitors.

Jaya, returning from the dairy with a bowl of curd, stopped in amazement when she saw the crowd squatting outside her hut. People turned to greet her; some reached out to touch the hem of her sari in deference as she picked her way amongst them. She had acquired new status as grandmother of the God Woman. Jaya pressed the bowl of curd tightly against her breast for safety, the path was perilous to her front door. She thrust her way forward amongst
the bulges of hips and the bony touch of knees. So great was the crush that people could move no more than an inch this way or that to allow her passage. Jaya pitched dangerously about. She gripped the curd closer and pushed on.

‘Can a woman not enter her own home?’ she cried out at last in frustration. Rolls of her flesh had dipped into the curd and wet marks now stained her sari. ‘My granddaughter is ill. I go out to bring curd to nourish her and return to this commotion.’

‘The
Devi
is ill. Make a way.’ At last a narrow channel was opened. Jaya pushed through to enter her home. Once inside, she halted again in amazement.

‘What nonsense is this? Only a short while I was gone and during this time the world has arrived in my hut.’ She nearly stumbled over the albino’s youngest child, crawling about underfoot.

‘Look after your child. An elephant will squash him like an ant. All this must be your doing,’ Jaya bellowed at the albino while surveying the crowd in her hut.

‘I came only to see the
Devi.
If our neighbours also are wanting to come, what is the harm in that? I have spoken to no one.
You
told me of the
Devi.
You have told the stallholders too. And they may have told their neighbours,’ Pagal replied.

‘Sister, we are needing her
darshan.
We are poor people and her blessing can save us. Times are not good; many people are frightened for their lives as Siraj Uddaulah approaches. Already, the sound of his drums blows upon the wind,’ the fruit man called out from where he squatted.

‘You know the reputation of the new nawab. He will cut us down like rats for his pleasure. Only the Goddess can save us,’ the seller of oil lamps argued from behind the albino.

‘I have brought you good
subhsi
today. Here is bitter gourd and aubergine, yams and mustard leaf. Take what you want. I will charge nothing. Make the
Devi
her food.’ The itinerant vegetable woman stumbled into the hut clutching her basket so firmly to her head that her brow was forced into wrinkles.

Jaya sighed in confusion. She had thought no further than the miracle of the Goddess’s presence in her home. Now there were suddenly all these people, also demanding a part of the Goddess. Peevishness shaped her words. ‘The Goddess has come to my Sati. It is nothing to do with you all.’

Laughter rolled around her. The seller of oil lamps stood up. ‘Sister, the Goddess is not your property. She has manifested herself for us all. She is knowing times are bad and our lives may be in danger. She has come for the protection of everyone.’ There was a murmur of agreement in the hut.

Sati turned upon her pallet. At the sight of the crowd before her bed she sat up in shock. She looked about but there was no sign of Durga. The dimness threw up only the pale face of the albino, glowing like the moon. As she stirred, a hush settled over the crowd. The intensity of the expressions before her was overwhelming. The need of the crowd swam towards her like desperate fish escaping the twine of a net. The same force of expectation she had felt in Demonteguy’s home on the night of the seance came down upon her now.

The albino crawled on his knees towards her. His bare head, hair cropped that morning to deter lice, was now level with Sati.

‘
Darshan.
Give me your blessing,
Devi
.’
Pagal was bowed before her on all fours like a penitent animal. Beneath the corn-coloured bristles, his skull was pink as the morning sky.

Sati looked about but Durga was still absent. The albino reached out to clasp her ankles, the weight of his emotion pressing into her flesh. She feared he might cry, his hot tears falling on to her toes. The crowd before her caught its breath and Sati met their waiting eyes. She extended her hand to touch the pale bristles of the albino’s head. The crowd released a sigh. The prickly stubble of Pagal’s hair reminded her of the burrs in the brier patch behind the hut. She raised her eyes again and saw Durga at last, curled about the rafters. Sati’s heart lifted at the sight. She closed her eyes and let Durga’s strength surround her.

A deep voice filled the hut. ‘Even though you do not see me I have been with you.’

There was a murmur in the room as the Goddess spoke through Sati. The albino drew back from Sati’s pallet with a startled look.

‘
Praise.
Praise.
Reverence
to
Her.
Reverence
,’
he chanted, staring up at the rafters, following Sati’s gaze. Everyone in the hut raised their eyes to where he pointed.

‘
Reverence.
Praise
be
to
Her
.’
People pushed suddenly forward. Some managed to touch Sati’s feet.

‘Give us your blessings. Look over our children. Protect us.’

The powerful charge of so much emotion forced Durga to leave her perch, drawing her down to Sati.

‘Ah!’ Sati gave a cry as Durga poured herself into her veins.

‘Ah!’ the crowd echoed.

‘Seek refuge in me and I shall protect you.’ There was a new gasp from the crowd as the strange voice spoke again.

A man stood up and then threw himself at Sati’s feet. ‘
Devi,
Siraj Uddaulah comes. We fear for our lives. He will kill us like flies. What shall we do?’

‘Only believe in me,’ Durga commanded through Sati.

‘The
Devi
will slay Siraj Uddaulah’s army, just as she slayed the
asuras
,’
a man announced from the back of the crowd.

‘See how the
Devi
’s light fills the God Woman,’ people whispered.

‘I will die for you,
Devi
.’
A woman flung herself over the people in front of her to sprawl before Sati. Another woman gave a cry and threw herself forward in a similar manner. The albino’s wife stood up, the emotions in the hut taking hold of her.

‘
Praise
be
to
Her
.’
The crowd immediately echoed her words.

The albino’s wife dropped to her knees, embracing the other two women. All began to sob at once. The albino crawled forward to join his wife and once more took hold of Sati’s feet. Others also wished to touch the God Woman and began a new surge of pushing and shoving. At the frenzy the albino’s children took fright and flung themselves on top of their parents. Jaya was pushed aside by the
children hurtling forward like projectiles, regardless of obstacle. She lost her balance and fell into the crowd, who groaned beneath her weight. The bowl of curd spilt over people’s shoulders. She was eventually set upon her feet again, like a great tree that the wind had uprooted.

Word passed from the hut to those squatting outside of the miracle enacted within. The news eddied briefly about the rocks of disbelief before swimming on up the narrow lane and flooding into the town. Those people who had at first refused to believe in the Goddess’s presence in Black Town now left their ablutions or the drawing of water from the well. The goatherd deserted his goats, cows were left half milked, buffalo were abandoned to walk where they wished, some still trailing their ploughs. Stalls were suddenly unattended and prey to beggars’ pilfering. The lame and afflicted emerged from their huts, carried on beds or relatives’ backs. Seeing this trail of misery consolidating beneath the sun, the beggars reluctantly left the easy filching of melons, sandals and oil lamps. There was the sudden, discomforting realisation that the Goddess could see where others could not and might not approve of looting. Instead, they assembled and, upon agreement, followed the crowd towards Jaya’s hut.

Now the crush had become intense. Word flew to the furthest corners of Black Town, to the Lal Bazaar and the Bread and Cheese Bungalow and the start of the road to the Salt Lakes. Like the swell of the tide rolling up the Hoogly, the population of Black Town turned towards Jaya’s hut. Those who had never before heard her name now spoke in awed whispers about her granddaughter. Some snatched up fruit, a handful of flowers, the veil of a dying wife or the crutch of a crippled son to carry to the God Woman. Black Town now flowed in one direction, cousins stopping only to inform second and third cousins, nephews to reveal the news to their uncles, the money lender to enlighten those he had bankrupted, the Untouchable to reveal the coming to the Brahmin. Never before had news flushed through Black Town with this speed and portent. Roads were
clogged, bullock carts brought to a standstill and palanquins overturned in the crush. Children were lost underfoot. Kittens lay squashed and old people fainted, smothered by the crowd. All whispered their awe repeatedly.

Reverence
to
Her.
Reverence.
Reverence.
The sound blew on the wind through the streets of Black Town.

‘Devi,
have mercy.’ The albino crawled forward again. His white face glowed in the darkness. Durga’s weight seemed to increase within Sati. She felt her affinity to Pagal. The pain of the albino was to be forever different, to find his own strength, alone. They were both nothing but themselves.

About Pagal’s hut were a profusion of plants that he tended carefully. Once Sati had seen him graft the stems of two plants together, splicing them through their root and binding them one to another. Soon, in the fertile earth about the hut, an unknown flower had unfolded. It was like no other bloom, rich in a mystery of its own. People had come a distance to marvel at its solitary strength. They stared as if the plant had some lesson to teach them.

‘I am darkness and light. I am one in myself. I follow no shape but my own.’ The strange voice spoke again.

‘Ah.’ The crowd bowed at the Goddess’s words.

Now, the desperation of those outside had become intense and they pushed hard against the door of Jaya’s hut, which was soon torn from its hinges. A woman stumbled in, holding a baby above her head. The infant screamed and screamed.

‘Save my child,
Devi.
Save my child. It only cries from morning to night,’ the woman sobbed.

There was a murmur in the hut. The woman was pushed forward with the hysterical infant until she fell awkwardly at Sati’s feet, pitching her child over the head of the albino’s wife into Sati’s lap. Immediately the crowd became still, all eyes turned on the screaming infant.

The baby, shocked by this abrupt change of place, shut its mouth and looked up in amazement at Sati. Not seeing its mother’s anxious
face, nor finding itself subjected to a bone-shattering jiggling upon her knees in an effort to calm, it stopped crying. With a yawn and a whimper it fell asleep. A gasp went around the room.

The mother crawled forward. ‘
Praise.
Praise
to
the
Goddess
,’
she cried, prostrating herself before Sati’s feet.

The albino drew back in fresh awe. Behind him the crowd, stunned by the miracle worked on the baby, murmured in low voices. Some of the women began to cry, overcome by the weight of emotion. They stared in fresh wonder at Sati, whose hair was burnished by a shaft of sun to an unearthly halo. Those at the back of the hut pushed their heads out of the broken door and repeated in detail all that had happened with the baby.

Word was carried back up the crowded street, where people now jostled for place to stand within sight of the Goddess’s abode. Parents lifted children upon their shoulders so that the full force of the Goddess’s
shakti
might fall directly upon them as it radiated out from Jaya’s hut. Those with lame or afflicted relatives or dying children limp in their arms pushed themselves forward, judging the force of
shakti
to grow in power the nearer they approached the hut. Those waiting for
darshan
stood their ground firmly before those in dire physical need. Soon fights broke out upon the subject of
shakti,
and whose right it might be to bask in its power. Word filtered back to the furthest reaches of Black Town of the details enacted in Jaya’s hut. The words of the Goddess were magnified in the manner all things are altered when whispered many times. Soon it was told that the Great Mother, Kali, could be clearly seen, spears at the ready, fangs white in the sunlight against her black skin, ready to do battle with the Hatmen and the nawab. At the beginning of the road to the Salt Lakes, where the town petered out, word turned back upon itself, entwining new versions of events with the original story.

*

By the time news reached Govindram and Mohini, only minutes from Jaya’s home, the story of events had reached epic proportions. Had Govindram lived in a hut, he would have heard of events much
sooner. His large brick house, intent upon privacy, isolated him from the world at his doorstep. He was being shaved by the barber when he learned of the excitement. The barber mentioned the matter only to seek his opinion of things, unaware his client knew nothing. Govindram started up with such abruptness that he received a deep nick on his face. It took some moments to staunch the blood, and several more before Govindram and Mohini crossed the courtyard to their door. The
chowkidar
advised his master to remain inside, but Govindram flung open the gate. Immediately the crowd pushing against it fell in upon him. Mohini and Govindram retreated in shock as people flooded into their courtyard like a dammed-up river.