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

ost his magic. Water had worn a bald patch in his hair; the steady dripping
of the years had worn him down. Was he disillusioned with his blessed chil
d, his Mubarak? Was it my fault that his mantras lost their power? With an
air of great trouble, he told my mother, 'Never mind; wait only; I'll fix y
our feet for sure.' But Amina's corns grew worse; she went to doctors who f
roze them with carbon dioxide at absolute zero; but that only brought them
back with redoubled vigour, so that she began to hobble, her gliding days d
one for ever; and she recognized the unmistakable greeting of old age. (Chock full of
human form for the love of a man so every step is like walking on razor bla
des!' My mother smiled, but did not laugh.)
1956. Ahmed Sinai and Dr Narlikar played chess and argued my father was a
bitter opponent of Nasser, while Narlikar admired him openly. 'The man is
bad for business,' Ahmed said; 'But he's got style,' Narlikar responded, g
lowing passionately, 'Nobody pushes him around.' At the same time, Jawahar
lal Nehru was consulting astrologers about the country's Five Year Plan, i
n order to avoid another Karamstan; and while the world combined aggressio
n and the occult, I lay concealed in a washing chest which wasn't really b
ig enough for comfort any more; and Amina Sinai became filled with guilt.
She was already trying to put out of her mind her adventure at the race tra
ck; but the sense of sin which her mother's cooking had given her could not
be escaped; so it was not difficult for her to think of the verrucas as a
punishment… not only for the years ago escapade at Mahalaxmi, but for faili
ng to save her husband from the pink chitties of alcoholism; for the Brass
Monkey's untamed, unfeminine ways; and for the size of her only son's nose.
Looking back at her now, it seems to me that a fog of guilt had begun to f
orm around her head her black skin exuding black cloud which hung before he
r eyes. (Padma would believe it; Padma would know what I mean!) And as her
guilt grew, the fog thickened yes, why not? there were days when you could
hardly see her head above her neck!… Amina had become one of those rare peo
ple who take the burdens of the world upon their own backs; she began to ex
ude the magnetism of the willingly guilty; and from then on everyone who ca
me into contact with her felt the most powerful of urges to confess their o
wn, private guilts. When they succumbed to my mother's powers, she would sm
ile at them with a sweet sad foggy smile and they would go away, lightened,
leaving their burdens on her shoulders; and the fog of guilt thickened. Am
ina heard about servants being beaten and officials being bribed; when my u
ncle Hanif and his wife the divine Pia came to call they related their quar
rels in minute detail; Lila Sabarmati confided her infidelities to my mothe
r's graceful, inclined, long suffering ear; and Mary Pereira had to fight c
onstantly against the almost irresistible temptation to confess her crime.
Faced with the guilts of the world, my mother smiled foggily and shut her eye