Karma
khus hwant Singh [115-2014] has won Fame as A Journalist As Well As A Fiction Writer With Malice Towards One And All Was A Very Poplar Weekly Newspaper Column Penned By He Wes Editor The Prominent
New seekly Known As The LLL ustrated Weekly .Khugshwant Singh is also Well Known For His Poems And Stories .Karma is Taken from The Collected Short Stories of Khushwant Sinigh [2005].The Story is Written With a Note of Irony ,The Author Shows Concern With The Issue of Cultural Identity .Sir Mohan Lal Looked at Himself in The Mirror of a First class Waiting Room at The Railway Station .The Mirror Was Obviously Made in lindia .The Red Oxide at Its Back had Come off at Several Places And Long Lines of Translucent Glass Cut Across Its Surface. Sir Mohan Smiled at The Mirror With an Air of Pity and Patronage. You Are So Very Much Like Everything else in This Country ,inefficient /Dirty, Inifferent ,he Murmured.The Mirror Smiled Back at Sir Mohan .You Are a Bit of all Right ‘,Old Chap ,it ; Said .Distinguished. Efficient-evenhandsoma. That Neatly -Neatly -Right’ Old Chap’; it Said ,Distingushed .Efficient-even hand some ,That neatly Trimmed moustache, Tha Suit From Saville Row With The Carnation in The buttonhole , The The Aroma of Eau de Cologne talcum powder and Scented Scented Soap All About You ,Yes ,Old Fellow, You Are A Bit Of All Right, Sir Mohan Threw Out His Chest ,Smoothed His Balliol Tie For The Umpteenth Time And Waved A Goodbye To The Mirror,
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He Glanced At His Watch ,There Was Still Time For A Quick One “Koi Hai!” A Bearer In White Livery Appeared Through A Wire Gauze Door,,”Ek Chota ,”Ordered Sir Mohan, And Sank Into A Large Cane Chair To Drink And Ruminate, Outside The Waiting Room, Sir Mohan Lai ‘S Luggage Lay Piled Along The Wall ,On A Small Grey Steel Trunk, Lachmi ,Lady Mohan Lal, Sat Chewing A Betel Leaf And Fanning herself With A Newspaper, She Was Short And Fat And In Her Middle Forties ,She Wore A Dirty White Sari With A Red Border, On One Side Of Her Nose Glistened A Diamond Nose- Ring ,And She Had Several Gold Bangles On Her Arms, She Had Been Talking To The Bearer Until Sir Mohan Had Summoned Him Inside ,As Soon As He Had Gone ,She Hailed A Passing Railway Coolie,
“where Does The Zenana Stop?”
“Right At The End Of The Platform,”
The Coolie Flattened His Turban To Make A Cushion, Hoisted The Steel Trunk On His Head, And Moved Down The Platform, Lady Lal Picked Up Her Brass Tiffin-Carrier And Ambled Along Behind Him ;On The Way She Stopped By A Hawker ‘S Stall To Replenish Her Silver Betel Leaf Case ,And Then Joined The Coolie, She Sat Down On Her Steel Trunk ( Which The Coolie Had Put Down) And Started Talking To Him,
“Are The Trains Very Crowded On These Lines?”
“These Days All Trains Are Crow ded ,But You ‘ll Find Room In The Zenana,”
“Then I Might As Well Ged Over The Bother Of Eating ,
Lady Lal Opened The Brass Carrier And Took Out A Bundle Of Cramped Chapattis And Some Mango Pickle,While She Ate, The Coolie Sat Opposite Her On His Haunches , Drawing Lines The Gravel With His Finger,
“Are You Travelling Alone,Sister?”
“No, I Am With My Master, Brother,He Is In The Waiting Room ,He Travels First Class, He Is A Vizier And A Barrister, And Meets So Many Officers And Englishmen In The Trains-And I Am Only A Native Woman ,I Can ‘T Understand English And Don ‘T Know Their Ways, So I. Keep To My Zenana Inter-Class ,”
Lachmi Chatted Away Merrily,She Was Fond Of Little Gossip And Had On One To Talk To Home ,Her Husband Never Had Any Time To Spare For Her. She Lived In The Upper Storey Of The House And He On The Ground Floor.He Did Not Like Her Poor Illiterate Relatives Hanging Around His Bungalow, So They Never Came.He Came Up To Her Once In A While At Night And Stayed For Few Minutes. He Just Ordered Her About In Anglicised Hindustani , And She Obeyed Passively .These Nocturnal Visits Had,However, Borne On Fruit. The Signal Came Down And The. Clanging Of The Bell. Announced. The Approaching Train. LadY Lal Hurriedly Finished Off
Her Meal, She Got Up, Still Licking The Stone Of The Stone Of The Pickled Mang , She Emitted A Long, Loud As She Went To The Public Tap To Rinse Her Mouth And Wash Her Hands, After Washing She Dried Her Mouth And Hands With The Loose End Of Her Sari, And Walked Back To Her Steel Trunk, Belching And Thinking The Goods For The Favour Of A Filling Meal.
The Train Steamed In. Lachmi Found Herself Facing An Almost Empty Inter -Class Zenana Compartment Next To The Guard’ S. Van, At The Tail End Of The Train. The Rest of The Train Was Packed. She Heaved Her Squat, Bulky Frame Through The Door And Found A Seat By The Window. She Produced A Two -Anna Bit From A Kade Ni Her Sari And Dismissed The Coolie.She Then Opened Her Betel Case And Made Herself Fwo Betel Leaves Charged With A Red And White Paste,Minced Betel Nuts And Cardamoms. These She Thrust In To Her Mouth Till Her Cheeks Bulged No Both Sides .aThen She Rested Her Chin On Her. Hands And Sat Gazing Idly At The Jostling Crowd No The Platform.
The Arrival Of The Train Did Not Disturb Her Mohan Lal ‘s Sang-Froid .He Continued To Sip His And Ordered The Bearer To Tell Him When He Had Moved The Luggage To a First -Class Compartment. Excitement, Bustle And Hurry Were Exhibitions Of Bad Breeding, And Sir Mohan Was Eminently Well-Bred .He Wanted Everything ‘Tickety -Boo’And Orderly