After spending long time in the kitchen she diverted her attention to her lounge and bedroom. She put herself in the sofa, relaxed and switched on the radio. She was petrified to hear that an attempt had been made to assassinate Indra Gandhi, and she had been rushed to All India Institute of Medical Sciences. Without further thought she jumped out and hurried to Sita's house next door. The radio was on there too, but Sita was on telephone. Seeing Preetam coming in she put the handset down.
"Have you heard? Indra Gandhi has been shot at?" puffing Preetam asked.
"Shot at! She is dead," and sarcastically added, "Your Sikhs have killed her?"
"Killed her? She is dead? What are you talking about? Are you sure?"
"Yes, my husband just rang. Two of her Sikh bodyguards put dozens of bullets through her body."
Preetam sat down in the chair with her face dug in her hands.
"Why are you so sad? You Sikhs should be happy." Sita's remarks baffled Preet.
"Sita! What are you saying? You know how big an admirer of Indra I have been."
"May be... perhaps... but you all Sikhs are same inside."
"Oh, my God. I never expected this, not at least from you.... Any way can I use your 'phone? I want to ring Sohan." Sita nodded in affirmative.
"Halloo. Nathoo," she recognized the voice of her husband's peon on the other end, "It is me here, Preetam. Please call the Sahib.... What? The office is closed already and he has left for the home?.... How long ago?...." She looked at the clock on the wall, "That's alright then. He should be home any minute," and she hung up. Sita's last remark was looming in her mind, without saying anything she just left the place.
Her radio was on. She was puzzled as it was still broadcasting the news of attempted assassination and the messages received from the heads of states of foreign countries condemning the act. Her husband had taken longer than usual to reach home. Every minute was adding to her apprehension. It was extra half an hour of hell before she heard the voice of the scooter.
"Why did you take so long today? I was so scared," she asked after opening the door and letting the machine in.
"I couldn't help. On all the major road-junctions Hindus were getting together and shouting slogans against Sikhs. I had to go round and round the side streets. The situation is getting worse. Good thing office is closed till her funeral. We shall better stay indoors."
In the evening they heard the news of the arrival of President Zail Singh and the Prime Minster's son Rajiv Gandhi in the capital, declaration of the death of Indra Gandhi and swearing in of Rajiv Gandhi as the Prime Minster of India.
Kartar Singh, who lived five houses down the street, came after dark and told them that thousands of Hindus had amassed outside the A.I.I.M.S., where Indra Gandhi's body was kept. The President's car was bombarded with bricks and stones when he came to see her. When Rajiv Gandhi emerged from the hospital he said, "My mother has been shot dead. What are you doing here? Go, and take revenge. No turban should be seen."
Kartar informed them about the rumours circulating that the Hindus were planning to raid Sikh houses and kill them all. But there was nothing to worry about in this locality as the Hindus and the Sikhs had quite amicable relations.
`Do they?' Preetam thought and whole night she could not sleep.
Half heartedly she prepared breakfast and then lunch. All the time radio was playing the mourning music, vedic discourses and religious hymns. Repeatedly, it was broadcasting the killing of Indra Gandhi in the hands of Sikh bodyguards.
On Sundays and other holidays, they normally used to join their neighbours to play cards. But Sita's remarks were resounding and they decided to stay put in their own house. Lying down on the sofas they dozed off. In the late afternoon they heard a knock at the door and let Kartar in. He was breathing heavily.
"They... they are coming?
"Come on... keep calm... sit down.... Who are coming?.
"Narain Dass just telephoned me. You know Narain Dass, a Congress worker living in the yellow three storey house at the corner of the street." It was a cul-de-sac and Preetam's house was the last one.
Kartar continued, "He told me in confidence that the Hindu mobsters have burned down almost all the shops belonging to the Sikhs in Samri and they have laid siege outside Sikh dominated streets. They are carrying cans of kerosine oil and are burning the houses belonging to the Sikhs. Any Sikh who goes out they just pore oil over the person and light the fire. They are carrying lists in their hands and sparing the houses under the ownership of Hindus."
"What shall we do then?" Preetam asked.
"Narain advised me to stay put and not to worry as both, yours and mine; houses are owned and registered in the names of Hindus. There is only one house in this street which belongs to a Sikh Army Officer, even he does not live there himself and has let it to Hindu couple. Some Congress boys are leading the assaults. They are holding the lists of the houses which are owned by the Sikhs. Most of the raiders are from the hut-ments around
"Why such a big reaction now against the Sikhs? They did not kill even one person from
"I think it is a part of big conspiracy against Sikhs." Kartar added, "We wait and see."
"What should we do now? Why can't we take scooters and go to our
"In the first place, most of the street entrances have been blocked, and secondly, Narain told me that the Gurdwara were the first to be hit by the mob."
"Why didn't you telephone the Police."
"I did, immediately, but I was told, most of the Police was busy in the funeral arrangement of Indra Gandhi. They would come if they are called for.... My friend Inspector Ujjagar Singh and two other Sikh constables in Samri Police Station had taken day off, I learnt."
"God bless us all."
They went on discussing the eventualities till the darkness brightened the sky with flames coming out of the burning buildings along with the voices of slogans and cries. They kept lights off and kept looking out into the street; hardly any body was walking. Preetam's heart started to bounce when she saw a neighbour's teenager boy, Tilak, stopping out side her house, and waving to somebody to come forward. Within seconds, quietly, couple of dozens of roughnecks joined him.
She turned her head in, "Sohan, Kartar, come, look out, they all are looking at our house."
"Oh, God! What shall we do now." They heard a knock at the door, "They... they are going to kill us. Where shall we go now?"
"Please keep calm. I'll go and talk to them," Sohan suggested.
"No, don't go out. Let them knock. They will think that no body is home. I am sure they won't break the door; after all the house belongs to a Hindu."
But the raiders started to push hard to break the latch.
"Come, let's go in the bedroom, under the bed. You Preet go and hide in the large wardrobe."
They were in dozens and soon discovered Sohan and Kartar under the bed.
"Take them out in the street," a powerful voice ordered, "Is there anybody else in the house?"
"Doesn't look like."
"No, Kanti Bhiya she must be here, somewhere," Tilak shouted, "I saw her walking in the house about an hour ago."
"Yes, she is here in the wardrobe," a voice came.
"Take her out as well." She started to shout.
"Put her scarf through her mouth. She shrieks too much," and her voice was suppressed.
She staggered and nearly fainted to see Sohan and Kartar in the middle of the street. Both were tied together back to back with Kartar's own turban. Their mouths were gagged with the kerchiefs.
"Bring the scissors," a mam shouted.
"Look baby, look, we are going to make men out of your Sikhs," one of the persons holding Preetam said. She elbowed fiercely but the force of the people holding her was much greater.
Sohan and Kartar were shaking their heads vigorously and jostling their bodies. "Bring a tyre and put around them, saaley, don't stand still," the man cropping their heir shouted. Everybody around was giggling and dancing.
"Oye, take the canister there," a man holding her asked a boy walking towards the house with canister of oil, "we don't need it here; it is a Hindu house we are not going burn it. Give it to him," he pointed towards the man busy cutting hair.
He took the can, pored over Sohan and Kartar and lit a match.
The crowd was seized in a frenzy. Preetam jumped hard to get out of their clutches.
"Shall we throw her there, too?" A man holding her asked Kanti. Kanti thought over for a few seconds, looked at her from head to feet, licked his lips and stealthily winked and whispered, "Take her in." In the delirium no body noticed them pushing her in and closing the door behind.
"Put her on the bed," ordered Kanti, "saaly, does not stay still. Tie her there."
Four of them pushed her on the string-bed, taking her head-scarves from the clothesline tied her feet and hands with the sides of the bed. Kanti went forward, opened the knot of the string and pulled her trousers down. He ripped her blouse and broke apart the brasier. "She looks ugly with this gag on. Untie the knot and remove the cloth from her mouth," Kanti ordered one of his accomplices.
He unbelted his trousers, unzipped and jumped up. She spit on his face. With his fist as big as the hammer of an iron-smith he hit her hard on both the cheeks. She was almost unconscious. He went down after a few minutes and the other one came up and then another and another and....
She regained consciousness and tried to pull her hands, they were still tied but she could move her leg, they were free. She moved her head right and left and started to cry, "Oh, my True Lord, what have I done to deserve this punishment. I have been an ardent devotee of yours and have recited holy hymns every morning and evening. I was just a baby when you snatched my mother, took away my father immediately after my marriage and... and... even you did not leave for me my unborn baby and left me to have no more children in my life... and now my husband... why? why?"
