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

on and the lust drenched breeze, abandon all notions of purity and confess
his own love to his open mouthed sister.
There was a silence; then she cried, 'Oh, no, how can you ', but the magic
of the parchment was doing battle with the strength of her hatred of love;
so although her body grew stiff and jerky as a wrestler's, she listened to
him explaining that there was no sin, he had worked it all out, and after a
ll, they were not truly brother and sister; the blood in his veins was not
the blood in hers; in the breeze of that insane night he attempted to undo
all the knots which not even Mary Pereira's confession had succeeded in unt
ying; but even as he spoke he could hear his words sounding hollow, and rea
lized that although what he was saying was the literal truth, there were ot
her truths which had become more important because they had been sanctified
by time; and although there was no need for shame or horror, he saw both e
motions on her forehead, he smelt them on her skin, and, what was worse, he
could feel and smell them in and upon himself. So, in the end, not even th
e magic parchment of Mutasim the Handsome was powerful enough to bring Sale
em Sinai and Jamila Singer together; he left her room with bowed head, foll
owed by her deer startled eyes; and in time the effects of the spell faded
altogether, and she took a dreadful revenge. As he left the room the corrid
ors of the palace were suddenly filled with the shriek of a newly affianced
princess, who had awoken from a dream of her wedding night in which her ma
rital bed had suddenly and unaccountably become awash in rancid yellow liqu
id; afterwards, she made inquiries, and when she learned the prophetic trut
h of her dream, resolved never to reach puberty while Zafar was alive, so t
hat she could stay in her palatial bedroom and avoid the foul smelling horr
or of his weakness.
The next morning, the two badmashes of the Combined Opposition Party awoke
to find themselves back in their own beds; but when they had dressed, they
opened the door of their chamber to find two of the biggest soldiers in Pak
istan outside it, standing peacefully with crossed rifles, barring the exit
. The badmashes shouted and wheedled, but the soldiers stayed in position u
ntil the polls were closed; then they quietly disappeared. The badmashes so
ught out the Nawab, finding him in his exceptional rose garden; they waved
their arms and raised their voices; travesty of justice was mentioned, and
electoral jiggery pokery; also chicanery; but the Nawab showed them thirtee
n new varieties of Kin rose, crossbred by himself. They ranted on death of
democracy, autocratic tyranny until he smiled gently, gently, and said, 'My
friends, yesterday my daughter was betrothed to Zafar Zulfikar; soon, I ho
pe, my other girl will wed our President's own dear son. Think, then what d
ishonour for me, what scandal on my name, if even one vote were cast in Kif
against my future relative! Friends, I am a man to whom honour is of conce
rn; so stay in my house, eat, drink; only do not ask for what I cannot give.'