CHAPTER 21
The great temple of Antara lay deep in shadow, though a newly risen moon had just begun to glint on the golden finials on its gopuram. The temple was built on a raised plinth round about which was an expanse of lawn, beyond which great trees cast vast islands of shadow. From these shadows a hooded figure emerged, walked quickly to a small door built into the plinth and knocked. The door opened just long enough to admit the stranger and closed again. The just long enough to admit the stranger and closed again. The whole operation could not have taken more than a few seconds. The door in question was a side door, cleverly concealed and camouflaged within the masonry of the plinth and right now almost invisible in the shadows. Very few knew of its existence and those few used it but rarely. Whoever it was who had thus entered was clearly anxious to evade observation.
He had, however, been observed. There was another figure concealed in the shrubbery, who had witnessed the whole operation and who remained in hiding, waiting for the stranger to re-emerge.
The stranger who had entered the temple was conducted to a chamber was conducted to a chamber where his companion knocked on another door, an altogether more elaborate door whose panels were made of exquisitely carved mahogany. “Enter!”
The stranger bowed low before a young woman who sat on an ottoman, apparently waiting for him. “My respectful greetings to the oracle of Antara.”
“Well, Ragahvaji, you sought this interview, as well as the cloak and dagger stuff.” The tone was faintly accusatory.
“It is necessary to observe secrecy madam, but only for the time being.”
“Why is it necessary to observe secrecy?”
“Because the government keeps me under surveillance. And if it became known that I had met you, it would compromise the plan which I am going to place before you.”
“I have no wish to be party to anything underhand, you understand that, don’t you.”
“Ofcourse, nor have I. What I have to say concerns the welfare of the state of Ratangarh, nothing else. You are already aware of the Railway agitation and I understand you have some sympathy with our aims, this is why I have come to see you.”
If Raghavji was waiting for some encouragement he was disappointed. The young woman remained silent.
“We know that the railways represent the future. They represent progress and enlightenment, and that is the very reason why the government is opposed to them. The government is afraid of fresh ideas which the railways will bring. It is afraid of progress. It does not want development. It wants stagnation, it wants to this state to remain a benighted medieval anachronism while the winds of change are sweeping the rest of the country. It wants the same moth-eaten state apparatus run by corrupt officials to go on forever. It wants the same debauched nobility to continue with its rack-renting and oppression. And what is common to all this. They are all thakurs. These ramshackle feudal elements – without education, without even common decency and humanity –they are the backbone of the state. And who are the progressive elements in this state. And who are the progressive elements in this state. Who are the educated and socially conscious class- they are all brahmins. I am a brahmin, you are a brahmin.”
The young woman held up a hand, “I have no wish to get embroiled in caste-politics.”
“I am sorry, I was carried away. What I said is a fact, but no matter. I will come to the point. And the point is this, for the first time in the history of this state we have an oracle who has received the benefit on an English education and is imbued with progressive ideas. Am I right?’
“Go on.”
“Well, as you know political activity in this state is simply not permitted. For the first time the railway agitation has given us a cause which has united the people and rattled the government. And let me tell you, in strict confidence of course, we are in touch with our friends in the Congress across the borders and our movement has their blessings. We would like to invite some big Congress leaders, perhaps the Mahatma himself, but the government will arrest them on the border and send them to prison and the Government of India will quietly look the other way. But it does not matter because we have an even more potent force with us.”
“Whom have you got?”
“We have you.”
“What do you mean.”
“Madam, you represent an institution that is revered throughout this state. If you were to bless our movement, say just a few words of support and encouragement in the cause of progress – why, then even the king can’t prevail against you. The people will rally to our side and our movement will be irresistible.”
“So what do you want me to do.”
“It’s very simple really. Day after tomorrow, it is Amavasya. It is customary for the oracle to address the devotees on the occasion. Just say a few words then in our favour and they will do the trick. There is only one precaution that we must take.”
“And what is that.”
“No one must know about my visit here.”
“And what if somehow it became known that you had been here.”
“Let me tell you. Have you heard of the Bureau of Public Safety – popularly known as the department of dirty tricks. It is the only department of the government which functions efficiently. This is not so surprising as it is headed by that renegade Brahmin – Dewan Ram Prasad himself. Once they come into the picture they will use every trick in the bag to throw mud at you, lower your image in the public eye, you know. You may end up losing not just this job but also your fair name.”
“The job is temporary anyway and I am not afraid of professional slanderers. I think I can look after myself. But there is one thing that does bother me.”
“And that is….?”
“It doesn’t matter. As Mr. Bradley used to say, ‘progress comes with a price.’ You can now go back Mr. Raghavhji. I will do as you say.”
As he walked back, Raghavji was so euphoric that he did not realize he was being followed. The moon had not risen and the streets were still in shadow and the town of Ratangarh seemed fast asleep. Raghvaji walked straight to the house of his friend and mentor Pandit Sewa ram, a retired school master who was the Congress pointsman in the state. He dispensed with his usual caution and knocked on the front door, looking around as he did so. There seemed no one about, only a stray dog that scampered away. A light came on in the house, the door was softly opened and Raghvaji entered. His host led him to a room on side of the house.
“Open the windows my friend, it is hot and sultry.”
“That it is, but are you sure you want to talk with the windows open,” said Pandit Sewa Ram, who was a tall, portly brahmin with a walrus moustache that was now snow white.
“It’s all right. There is no one about. This town seems to go to bed before it’s nine. Another sign of our backwardness. They sway the lights never go out in London.”
“Why talk of London. Even in Hoshangabad they have street lights now which burn all night. But tell me about your mission. How did it go?’
“She has agreed.”
“Really. I can hardly believe it. But this is amazing! Wonderful! Marvellous!” Pandit Sewa Ram was besides himself with glee. The two men embraced.
“She will deliver a speech on Amawasys where she will speak in favour of the railway being brought to Ratanpur.”
“Wonderful, wonderful. Once the oracle speaks out in our support, where is the power that can stop us. We will soon have the Dewan himself begging for our support.”
“And not just the Dewan either. His Highness himself will be on his knees.” Said Raghav.
“What do the Britishers call our King Raghav?”
“Old Preddy.”
“Well, then Old Preddy’s days are numbered.”
Raghavji was puzzled. “How do you mean his days are numbered.”
“Look, once the agitation starts the government will come down hard upon it. Old Preddy is dead set against the railway. But the more they try to crush us the more people will come out in support. After all the oracle is with us. There will be disorder, some people may get killed. But this is the last thing that the Paramount Power wants. They will pull up Preddy sharply. Who knows what might happen then.”
“Do you expect the British Government to support our agitation.”
“No I don’t. In the last analysis they will stand by the Princely states, because they are their most ardent supporters. Both the British Raj and the Princely states are against the march of history. The Raj is afraid of nationalism, the Princes are afraid of democracy. Both will make common cause against the people. But the British don’t want any disorder, so as I said, they will pull up Preddy. And remember our king is old and has no natural successors. It anything happens to him the state may be taken in Court of Wards. The Political Agent may then act as Regent. This will give the Congress the chance to spread their wings in the state. We can then ask for a merger of this state with British India. That will be the end of Old Preddy and his benighted regime.”
“I had never thought of all this,” said Raghav.
“It is not your job to think. Your job is to act and you should get set to face the police.”
“I am ready. Well, so that is that. I will now take your leave Panditji. I have other fish to fry.”
So with a wink, Raghavji left the old Congressman. Neither of them realized that a man had been crouching in the shadows just outside the open window, and everything that had been said had been heard.
