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

tly after Jamila's fifteenth birthday, beaming and bouncing, revealing a mo
uth filled with solid gold teeth. 'I'm a simple fellow,' he explained, 'like
our illustrious President. I keep my cash where it's safe.' Like our illust
rious President, the Major's head was perfectly spherical; unlike Ayub Khan,
Latif had left the Army and entered show business. 'Pakistan's absolute num
ber one impresario, old man,' he told my father. 'Nothing to it but organiza
tion; old Army habit, dies darn hard.' Major Latif had a proposition: he wan
ted to hear Jamila sing, 'And if she's two per cent as good as I'm told, my
good sir, I'll make her famous! Oh, yes, overnight, certainly! Contacts: tha
t's all it takes; contacts and organization; and yours truly Major (Retired)
Latif has the lot. Alauddin Latif,' he stressed, flashing goldly at Ahmed S
inai, 'Know the story? I just rub my jolly old lamp and out pops the genie b
ringing fame and fortune. Your girl will be in darn good hands. Dam good.'
It is fortunate for Jamila Singer's legion of fans that Ahmed Sinai was a ma
n in love with his wife; mellowed by his own happiness, he failed to eject M
ajor Latif on the spot. I also believe today that my parents had already com
e to the conclusion that their daughter's gift was too extraordinary to keep
to themselves; the sublime magic of her angel's voice had begun to teach th
em the inevitable imperatives of talent. But Ahmed and Amina had one concern
. 'Our daughter,' Ahmed said he was always the more old fashioned of the two
beneath the surface 'is from a good family; but you want to put her on a st
age in front of God knows how many strange men… ?' The Major looked affronte
d. 'Sir,' he said stiffly, 'you think I am not a man of sensibility? Got dau
ghters myself, old man. Seven, thank God. Set up a little travel agency busi
ness for them; strictly over the telephone, though. Wouldn't dream of sittin
g them in an office window. It's the biggest telephonic travel agency in the
place, actually. We send train drivers to England, matter of fact; bus wall
ahs, too. My point,' he added hastily, 'is that your daughter would be given
as much respect as mine. More, actually; she's going to be a star!'
Major Latif's daughters Sana and Rafia and five other afias were dubbed, col
lectively, 'the Puffias' by the remaining Monkey in my sister; their father
was nicknamed first Tather Puffia' and then Uncle a courtesy title Puffs. He
was as good as his word; in six months Jamila Singer was to have hit record
s, an army of admirers, everything; and all, as I'll explain in a moment, wi
thout revealing her face.
Uncle Puffs became a fixture in our lives; he visited the Clayton Road hous
e most evenings, at what I used to think of as the cocktail hour, to sip po
megranate juice and ask Jamila to sing a little something. She, who was gro
wing into the sweetest natured of girls, always obliged… afterwards he woul
d clear his throat as if something had got stuck in it and begin to joke he
artily with me about getting married. Twenty four carat grins blinded me as
he, 'Time you took a wife, young man. Take my advice: pick a girl with goo