Land of Five Rivers by Khushwant Singh Read Free Book Online

son till they were lost in the distant curve of the road.

t he night of the full moon

    Kartar Singh Duggal
            N o one believed that Malan and Minnie were mother and daughter; they looked like sisters, Minnie was quite a bit taller than her mother. People said, ‘Malan, your daughter has grown into a lovely woman!’ They never stopped gaping at the girl. She was like a pearl and as charming as she was comely.
    When Malan looked at her daughter she felt as if she was looking at herself. She too had been as young and as beautiful. She hadn’t aged much either. And there was somebody who was willing to go to the ends of the earth for her even now.
    Why had her mind wandered to this man? He must be a dealer in pearls because every time she thought of him pearls dropped from her eyes! Her daughter was now a woman; it was unbecoming of her to think of a man. She had restrained herself all these years; why did her mind begin to waver? She must hold herself in check. Her daughter was due to wed in another week; she must not entertain such evil thoughts — never! never!
    ‘My very own, my dearest,’ he had written only yesterday ‘do not forget me.’ But every time he came to the village she sent him away without any encouragement. She shut her eyes as fast as she shut her door against him. He had refused to give her up. She was his life; without her he found no peace. He had spent many years waiting for her, pleading with her, suffering the pangs of love and passion. An age had passed and now the afternoon shadows had lengthened across life’s courtyard.
    Malan knew in her heart that he would come that night. Every full moon lit night he knocked on her door. And tonight the moon would be full. The night would be cold, frosty and still. She had never unlatched her door for him. Would she tonight? She recalled a cold, moonlit night of many years ago. She was dancing in the mango grove when her
duppatta
had got caught in his hand. She had come to him bare-headed with the moonlight flecking her face with jasmine petals. He had put the
duppatta
across her shoulders — exactly the way it lay across her shoulders now. A shiver ran down Malan’s spine.
    Minnie came down the lane, tall and as slender as a cypress. Fair and fragile, she looked as if the touch of a human hand would leave a stain on her. Modestly, she had her
duppatta
wrapped round her face, and her eyes lowered.
    Minnie was returning from the temple. She had prayed to the gods, she said softly to her mother, to grant her wish. She had prayed to the gods to grant everybody all their wishes.
    Malan smiled. Something stirred her fancy. If her wish could be granted, she thought to herself, what would she ask for?
    ‘Father has not returned!’ complained Minnie.
    ‘He is not expected back today; it will be a thousand blessings if he gets back by tomorrow. He has a lot of things to buy. At weddings and feasts it’s better to have a little more than to run short,’ explained Malan.
    Minnie took off her sequined
duppatta
and spread it on her mother’s shoulders. She took her mother’s plain
duppatta,
instead and went into the kitchen.
    The light of the full moon came through the branches and sprinkled itself on Malan’s face. The full moon always did something to her. It made her feel like one drunk. In another four days women would come to her courtyard to sing wedding songs. They would put
henna
on the palms and the soles of her daughter’s feet. They would help her with her bridal clothes; load her with ornaments. How would her daughter look in bright red silk? And then the groom would come on horseback and take her to his own home and make love to her. He would kiss the
henna
away from the girl’s palms and the soles of her feet.
    It wasn’t so very long ago that all this had happened to her, Malan. But Minnie’s father had not once kissed the soles of her feet, nor ever pressed her palms against his eyes. He always came home tired; he ate his