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

But I mustn't get ahead of myself. In the beginning, before I broke through
to more than telepathy, I contented myself with listening; and soon I was ab
le to 'tune' my inner ear to those voices which I could understand; nor was
it long before I picked out, from the throng, the voices of my own family; a
nd of Mary Pereira; and of friends, classmates, teachers. In the street, I l
earned how to identify the mind stream of passing strangers the laws of Dopp
ler shift continued to operate in these paranormal realms, and the voices gr
ew and diminished as the strangers passed.
All of which I somehow kept to myself. Reminded daily (by the buzzing in my
left, or sinister, ear) of my father's wrath, and anxious to keep my right e
ar in good working order, I sealed my lips. For a nine year old boy, the dif
ficulties of concealing knowledge are almost insurmountable; but fortunately
, my nearest and dearest were as anxious to forget my outburst as I was to c
onceal the truth.
'O, you Saleem! Such things you talked yesterday! Shame on you, boy: you
better go wash out your mouth with soap!'… The morning after my disgrace,
Mary Pereira, shaking with indignation like one of her jellies, suggeste
d the perfect means of my rehabilitation. Bowing my head contritely, I we
nt, without a word, into the bathroom, and there, beneath the amazed gaze
of ayah and Monkey, scrubbed teeth tongue roofofmouth gums with a toothb
rush covered in the sharp foul lather of Coal Tar Soap. The news of my dr
amatic atonement rushed rapidly around the house, borne by Mary and Monke
y; and my mother embraced me, 'There, good boy; we'll say no more about i
t,' and Ahmed Sinai nodded gruffly at the breakfast table, 'At least the
boy has the grace to admit when he's gone too far.'
As my glass inflicted cuts faded, it was as though my announcement was al
so erased; and by the time of my ninth birthday, nobody besides myself re
membered anything about the day when I had taken the name of Archangels i
n vain. The taste of detergent lingered on my tongue for many weeks, remi
nding me of the need for secrecy.
Even the Brass Monkey was satisfied by my show of contrition in her eyes, I
had returned to form, and was once more the goody two shoes of the family.
To demonstrate her willingness to re establish the old order, she set fire
to my mother's favourite slippers, and regained her rightful place in the
family doghouse. Amongst outsiders, what's more displaying a conservatism y
ou'd never have suspected in such a tomboy she closed ranks with my parents
, and kept my one aberration a secret from her friends and mine.
In a country where any physical or mental peculiarity in a child is a sourc
e of deep family shame, my parents, who had become accustomed to facial bir
thmarks, cucumber nose and bandy legs, simply refused to see any more embar
rassing things in me; for my part, I did not once mention the buzzings in m
y ear, the occasional ringing bells of deafness, the intermittent pain. I h