Classic Ruskin Bond by Ruskin Bond Read Free Book Online Page A

were full of mockery, but her smile was friendly.
    At the midday meal, which consisted of curry and curds and chapattis, Rusty met Somi’s mother, and liked her.
    She was a woman of about thirty-five; she had a few grey hairs at the temples, and her skin—unlike Somi’s—was rough and dry. She dressed simply, in a plain white sari. Her life had been difficult. After the partition of the country, when hate made religion its own, Somi’s family had to leave their home in the Punjab and trek southwards; they had walked hundreds of miles and the mother had carried Somi, who was then six, on her back. Life in India had to be started again right from the beginning, for they had lost most of their property: the father found work in Delhi, the sisters were married off, and Somi and his mother settled down in Dehra, where the boy attended school.
    The mother said, ‘Mister Rusty, you must give Somi a few lessons in spelling and arithmetic. Always, he comes last in class.’ ‘Oh, that’s good!’ exclaimed Somi. ‘We’ll have fun, Rusty!’ Then he thumped the table. ‘I have an idea! I know, I think Ihave a job for you! Remember Kishen, the boy we passed yesterday? Well, his father wants someone to give him private lessons in English.’
    ‘Teach Kishen?’
    ‘Yes, it will be easy. I’ll go and see Mr Kapoor and tell him I’ve found a professor of English or something like that, and then you can come and see him. Brother, it is a first-class idea, you are going to be a teacher!’
    Rusty felt very dubious about the proposal; he was not sure he could teach English or anything else to the wilful son of a rich man; but he was not in a position to pick and choose. Somi mounted his bicycle and rode off to see Mr Kapoor to secure for Rusty the post of Professor of English. When he returned he seemed pleased with himself, and Rusty’s heart sank with the knowledge that he had got a job.
    ‘You are to come and see him this evening,’ announced Somi, ‘he will tell you all about it. They want a teacher for Kishen, especially if they don’t have to pay.’
    ‘What kind of a job is without pay?’ complained Rusty.
    ‘No pay,’ said Somi, ‘but everything else. Food—and no cooking is better than Punjabi cooking; water—’
    ‘I should hope so,’ said Rusty.
    ‘And a room, sir!’
    ‘Oh, even a room,’ said Rusty ungratefully, ‘that will be nice.’
    ‘Anyway,’ said Somi, ‘come and see him, you don’t have to accept.’
    *
    The house the Kapoors lived in was very near the canal; it was a squat, comfortable-looking bungalow, surrounded by uncut hedges, and shaded by banana and papaya trees. It was late evening when Somi and Rusty arrived, and the moon was up, and the shaggy branches of the banana trees shook their heavy shadows out over the gravel path.
    In an open space in front of the house a log fire was burning;the Kapoors appeared to be giving a party. Somi and Rusty joined the people who were grouped round the fire, and Rusty wondered if he had been invited to the party. The fire lent a friendly warmth to the chilly night, and the flames leapt up, casting the glow of roses on people’s faces.
    Somi pointed out different people: various shopkeepers, one or two Big Men, the sickly looking Suri (who was never absent from a social occasion such as this) and a few total strangers who had invited themselves to the party just for the fun of the thing and a free meal. Kishen, the Kapoors’ son, was not present; he hated parties, preferring the company of certain wild friends in the bazaar.
    Mr Kapoor was once a Big Man himself, and everyone knew this, but he had fallen from the heights; and, until he gave up the bottle, was not likely to reach them again. Everyone felt sorry for his wife, including herself.
    Presently Kapoor tottered out of the front door arm-in-arm with a glass and a bottle of whisky. He wore a green dressinggown and a week’s beard, his hair, or what was left of it, stood up on end and he