Blue trousers

“Rajiv! Rajiv! Come inside and have a bath. We have to go to the meeting,” shouted Geeta as she called her son from his afternoon game of street cricket with his friends.

“It’s early…why do we have to go so soon?” asked the boy.

“Well, there’s going to be a huge crowd there and I want to make sure we get a good place.”

Grumbling at having to abandon his game halfway and listen to the groans of his teammates, Rajiv went for his bath sullenly.

By the time, Geeta had prepared her husband’s evening tea and laid it out on the table it was 4.30 p.m.

She hurried to have a bath and change her clothes. She picked a white sari with a pale yellow border to wear. She put kohl in her eyes, a spot of sindoor on her forehead, and a string on jasmine on her plaited her. She picked up her handbag and went out. Rajiv was dressed and ready. He was enviously watching the progress of the game of cricket he had so peremptorily been pulled away from.

“Come on! Come on…” said Geeta, grabbing his hand and dragging him along. “We’ll take a rickshaw or we’ll never get there on time.”

When they arrived at the venue, huge crowds were milling about. Geeta despaired of finding a place with a view of the podium. She so desperately wanted to see him. And, she wanted Rajiv to get a glimpse of this great man. Still holding his hand, she almost ran in. Rajiv tried to pull his hand away.

“Don’t let go of my hand, Rajiv. See this big crowd…you can easily get lost in it.”

Chastised and slightly subdued seeing the size of the gathering he held on tight to his mother. They walked forward trying to find two seats closer to the front. Finally, three rows away from the podium they found two seats on the edge.

The meeting was scheduled to begin at 5 p.m. Uncharacteristically, the man was late. The crowd was getting restless. Someone, probably one of the organizers, came to the mike and announced, “Brothers and sisters, we are sorry for the delay. He is in an important meeting…” The crowd groaned in disappointment. “But, he will be here soon…”

Rajiv was beginning to get bored. He could well have finished his game, he thought. Just then there was a commotion in the front. Everyone was standing up and peering over their shoulders. He too stood up but he was too small. So, he climbed up onto his chair to get a better look. Yes, now he could see over the heads of the people.

Suddenly, the evening calm was rent by the sound of gunfire. Three shots fired in quick succession. People screamed. The crowd rushed forward as one. Rajiv was pushed and jostled and he fell. By the time he was able to get up, he found his mother was nowhere in sight. Scared and uncertain he scrambled through, finding ways through people’s legs. Just then, another shot was fired and the noise of the crowd grew louder. Loud cries went up. People screamed. Rajiv his eyes as big as saucers and his heart beating fast in his chest ran forward not knowing what was happening. He pushed his way through and was just in time to see a uniformed officer of the Royal Indian Air Force wrestling with a long-haired wild-looking man dressed in a khaki bush jacket and blue trousers. Soon, several people joined him trying to subdue the man with the gun.

The man in blue trousers was unrepentant. “I am not sorry I shot him,” he shouted. “I will explain my reasons in court.”

The crowd set upon him and began to beat him. They are going to kill him, thought Rajiv. But, several policemen arrived and hauled the man out of the crowd, put him into the back of a jeep, and drove off.

Rajiv saw activity from the corner of his eye. He turned his head and saw a group of people carrying someone back into the house from where they had just emerged. A large crowd followed.

Now Rajiv was truly scared. He shouted, “Amma! Amma!” as he ran around. He pushed aside people and chairs and continued running till he reached the podium. There was chaos everywhere. He did not know what to do or how to find his mother.

He sat on the edge of the raised platform, tears forming in his eyes. He heard snippets of conversation.

“…shot at point-blank range…”

“…Hindu fanatic…”

“…in a meeting with Patel. That is why he was late…”

“…he had just come out of the House accompanied by his nieces…”

Nothing made sense to him.

“…his last words were Hey! Ram!”

“…truly he was a saint…”

The lamps were being lit on the platform. A man came and politely asked Rajiv to get up.

“Why are you alone?” he asked.

“I lost my mother in the crowd…when the gun went off and the crowd rushed forward. Can you help me find her please?”

Tears welled in his eyes.

“Come with me,” said the man kindly. Rajiv walked him to the house. The man asked him to sit on a chair in the portico.

“Don’t move from here. We’ll try and locate your mother.”

Dumbly Rajiv nodded.

From where he sat, he had a better view of the crowd. The lights came on around the lawn. But, there were so many women dressed in white saris that he couldn’t find his mother.

Rajiv had almost given up finding his mother when he saw her. She was searching for him among the fallen chairs where they had been seated.

“Ma! Ma!” he shouted as he stood up and walked to the edge of the portico.

Miraculously, his mother heard him and came rushing forward. She climbed up the steps to the portico and hugged him tightly. She was crying.

“He’s gone, Raji,” she sobbed. “Our Bapu has left us!”