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By Root 20196 0

…) In which the viceroy, Wavell, understood that he was finished, washed-up, or in our own expressive word, funtoosh. (Which, of course, in fact only speeded things up, because it let in the last of the viceroys, who …) In which Mr. Attlee seemed too busy deciding the future of Burma with Mr. Aung Sam. (While, of course, in fact he was briefing the last viceroy, before announcing his appointment; the last-viceroy-to-be was visiting the King and being granted plenipotentiary powers; so that soon, soon …) In which the Constituent Assembly stood self-adjourned, without having settled on a Constitution. (But, of course, in fact Earl Mountbatten, the last viceroy, would be with us any day, with his inexorable ticktock, his soldier’s knife that could cut subcontinents in three, and his wife who ate chicken breasts secretly behind a locked lavatory door.) And in the midst of the mirror-like stillness through which it was impossible to see the great machineries grinding, my mother, the brand-new Amina Sinai, who also looked still and unchanging although great things were happening beneath her skin, woke up one morning with a head buzzing with insomnia and a tongue thickly coated with unslept sleep and found herself saying aloud, without meaning to at all, “What’s the sun doing here, Allah? It’s come up in the wrong place.”

… I must interrupt myself. I wasn’t going to today, because Padma has started getting irritated whenever my narration becomes self-conscious, whenever, like an incompetent puppeteer, I reveal the hands holding the strings; but I simply must register a protest. So, breaking into a chapter which, by a happy chance, I have named “A Public Announcement,” I issue (in the strongest possible terms) the following general medical alert: “A certain Doctor N. Q. Baligga,” I wish to proclaim—from the rooftops! Through the loud-hailers of minarets!—“is a quack. Ought to be locked up, struck off, defenestrated. Or worse: subjected to his own quackery, brought out in leprous boils by a mis-prescribed pill. Damn fool,” I underline my point, “can’t see what’s under his nose!”

Having let off steam, I must leave my mother to worry for a further moment about the curious behavior of the sun, to explain that our Padma, alarmed by my references to cracking up, has confided covertly in this Baligga—this ju-ju man! this green-medicine wallah!—and as a result, the charlatan, whom I will not deign to glorify with a description, came to call. I, in all innocence and for Padma’s sake, permitted him to examine me. I should have feared the worst; the worst is what he did. Believe this if you can: the fraud has pronounced me whole! “I see no cracks,” he intoned mournfully, differing from Nelson at Copenhagen in that he possessed no good eye, his blindness not the choice of stubborn genius but the inevitable curse of his folly! Blindly, he impugned my state of mind, cast doubts on my reliability as a witness, and Godknowswhatelse: “I see no cracks.”

In the end it was Padma who shooed him away. “Never mind, Doctor Sahib,” Padma said, “we will look after him ourselves.” On her face I saw a kind of recognition of her own dull guilt … exit Baligga, never to return to these pages. But good God! Has the medical profession—the calling of Aadam Aziz—sunk so low? To this cess-pool of Baliggas? In the end, if this be true, everyone will do without doctors … which brings me back to the reason why Amina Sinai awoke one morning with the sun on her lips.

“It’s come up in the wrong place!” she yelped, by accident, and then, through the fading buzzing of her bad night’s sleep, understood how in this month of illusion she had fallen victim to a trick, because all that had happened was that she had woken up in Delhi, in the home of her new husband, which faced east towards the sun; so the truth of the matter was that the sun was in the right place, and it was her position which had changed … but even after she grasped this elementary thought, and stored it away with the many similar mistakes she had made since coming here (because her confusion about the sun had been a regular occurrence, as if her mind were refusing to accept the alteration in her circumstances, the new, above-ground position of her bed), something of its jumbling influence remained with her and prevented her from feeling entirely at ease.