Salman Rushdie Midnight's children Salman Rushdie Midnight's ...

s obliged to sleep along with gardener, odd job boy, and hamal while Mary s
lept in style on a rush mat beside a new born child?
And was Mary blameless or not? Did her inability to go to church because in
churches you found confessionals, and in confessionals secrets could not be
kept turn sour inside her and make her a little sharp, a little hurtful?
Or must we look beyond psychology seeking our answer in statements such as
, there was a snake lying in wait for Mary, and Musa was doomed to learn a
bout the ambiguity of ladders? Or further still, beyond snake and ladder,
should we see the Hand of Fate in the quarrel and say, in order for Musa t
o return as explosive ghost, in order for him to adopt the role of Bomb in
Bombay, it was necessary to engineer a departure… or, descending from suc
h sublimities to the ridiculous, could it be that Ahmed Sinai whom whisky
provoked, whom djinns goaded into excesses of rudeness had so incensed the
aged bearer that his crime, with which he equalled Mary's record, was com
mitted out of the injured pride of an abused old servitor and was nothing
to do with Mary at all?
Ending questions, I confine myself to facts: Musa and Mary were perpetual
ly at daggers drawn. And yes: Ahmed insulted him, and Amina's pacifying e
fforts may not have been successful; and yes: the fuddling shadows of age
had convinced him he would be dismissed, without warning, at any moment;
and so it was that Amina came to discover, one August morning, that the
house had been burgled.
The police came. Amina reported what was missing: a silver spittoon encrust
ed with lapis lazuli; gold coins; bejewelled samovars and silver tea servic
es; the contents of a green tin trunk. Servants were lined up in the hall a
nd subjected to the threats of Inspector Johnny Vakeel. 'Come on, own up no
w' lathi stick tapping against his leg 'or you'll see what we can't do to y
ou. You want to stand on one leg all day and night? You want water thrown o
ver you, sometimes boiling hot, sometimes freezing cold? We have many metho
ds in the Police Force…' And now a cacophony of noise from servants, Not me
, Inspector Sahib, I am honest boy; for pity's sake, search my things, sahi
b! And Amina: 'This is too much, sir, you go too far. My Mary I know, anywa
y, is innocent. I will not have her questioned.' Suppressed irritation of p
olice officer. A search of belongings is instituted 'Just in case, Madam. T
hese fellows have limited intelligence and maybe you discovered the theft t
oo soon for the felon to abscond with the booty!'
The search succeeds. In the bedroll of Musa the old bearer: a silver spitto
on. Wrapped in his puny bundle of clothes: gold coins, a silver samovar. Se
creted under his charpoy bed: a missing tea service. And now Musa has throw
n himself at Ahmed Sinai's feet; Musa is begging, 'Forgive, sahib! I was ma
d; I thought you were going to throw me into the street!' but Ahmed Sinai w
ill not listen; the freeze is upon him; 'I feel so weak,' he says, and leav