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Bachhu lived in the hills of the north where delicious apples, apricots, plums, pearsand other fruits grew. His father worked in an orchard; his mother did the householdwork, gathered firewood herself and prepared the meals, while he and his two sisterswent to school. His younger brother was two years old and did not attend school.Bachhu’s grandparents lived with them. There was also a young aunt, Munni, who hadlost her husband in the war. They had little money but they were happy. There waselectricity in their hut, newly installed, and a small transistor. Bachhu’s father had got itas a present from a Bombay merchant for whom he had once done a lot of work, A youngstudent from the college in the city nearby had taught them how to use it. Even the babywould open his eyes and ears in wonder when the radio emitted strange sounds.Bachhu had just returned home after spending two months at his father’s brother’shouse in the big city, some forty kilometres away and he was bursting with news of themany things he had learnt about the world outside his home. Mother had a problemquietening him down at times. It was as if he had visited a totally different world. Hisuncle was a Captain in the army and had a large house. Whatever Bachhu could notexplain in words he would illustrate through pictures. One such was that of a refrigerator,and the family that had never moved beyond the hills, was quite excited that in theiruncle’s house mere should be an electric box to keep things cold! It seemed so absurd tothem. Then he described the large radio, the record player and the electric heater that keptthe room warm instead of the angeeihi of the hills, the television, where you saw picturesof things happening at that moment in far-away places, the telephone through which youcould speak even to a person in London, New York, or Tokyo. He had also seenaeroplanes take off and was shown pictures of jets, submarines, and countless other warweapons. He was so excited. He said he was going to learn a lot of science and inventnew things and become a famous man.Seated on the veranda, hookah in his mouth was grandfather, listening to Bachhu. Hesmiled occasionally partaking of the fun, but at times he had a far-away look at the end ofa long and excited description. He said to Bachhu, ‘It Is true that scientists havediscovered some wonderful things and those who can afford them, must be verycomfortable, but tell me, are aunt and uncle and their children really happy? Do they gettogether in the evenings to sing songs or tell stories? Do they have good friends? What istheir life like?’Bachhu thought for a while and then said they ought to be happy because they had somany new things in their home, but they had one sorrow — Cousin Mintoo who hadjoined the air force had been killed in the recent war and aunt was inconsolable. This setthe tone for a different line of thought.Grandfather asked if Bachhu noticed something: Men have used their knowledge ofscience both to discover extraordinary things to provide entertainment and luxury, butthey had also developed instruments and weapons that could destroy life. “How manyinnocent people die in an air-battle nowadays!” he exclaimed. “Is it right that man shouldkill man and find ways and means for doing this? The world has become a frighteningplace,” he mumbled and looked very sad.Everybody was quiet for a while. The voice, speaking with deep feeling had itsimpact. Bachhu also heard his grandfather politely; the words registered but his mind wasstill excited with the many wonders he had come upon in his uncle’s house. He could not,