Hukam Singh was still alive but was bleeding profusely. They tied up his wounds, made a litter, and took turns carrying him back. For much of the way Hukam Singh seemed to be in a delirium, alternately thanking Kesri for saving his life and expressing remorse for his past treatment of him. At the end, when they finally rejoined the column and handed him over to the battalion’s medical orderlies, Hukam Singh caught hold of Kesri’s hand and said: You saved my life — my life is yours now. I cannot forget what you did for me.
Kesri didn’t put much store by these words, thinking them to be a part of his delirium. But a few days later he received a summons from Bhyro Singh, who was now a jemadar. Bhyro Singh told Kesri that on the basis of a strong recommendation from Hukam Singh the battalion’s CO had decided to promote him to the rank of naik.
Kesri was so elated that it was only at the end of the interview that he remembered to inquire about Hukam Singh’s condition. Hukam Singh kaisan baadan? How is Hukam Singh?
Bhyro Singh did not mince his words: Hukam Singh’s soldiering days were over, he said. If he recovered from his wounds, he would have to go back to his village.
Many months went by before Kesri saw Hukam Singh again. In the interim the Pacheesi saw a great deal of fighting, in the Arakan and in southern Burma. Kesri was himself wounded again, in an action near Rangoon. Fortunately for him the wound was a ‘lucky’ one in that it wasn’t severe. It also got him a bonus that excited much envy among his friends — so much so that Seetul said: Kesri, tu ne to hagte me bater maar diya!, ‘Kesri, you dropped a turd and killed a partridge!’
As a bonus, instead of having to march all the way back to Calcutta, Kesri returned on a ship: the first steam-powered vessel ever seen in the East — the Enterprize.
After returning to Barrackpore Kesri went to see Hukam Singh at the cantonment hospital. He found him so changed that it was as though he had become a different man. He was walking now, but with a pronounced limp; he was also much thinner, and looked as if the flesh of his face had wasted away. But the changes in his speech and demeanour were even greater than the alterations in his appearance. A look of resigned melancholy had replaced the malice that had so often lurked in his eyes before. He seemed almost gentle, like a man who had found some kind of inner peace.
Over the next few years, the men of the Pacheesi were almost continuously in the field, fighting in Assam, Tripura and the Jungle-Mahals. Occasionally sepoys would go home on leave, and since many of them were related to Hukam Singh, Kesri would occasionally get news of him. He learnt that Hukam Singh had gone back to his village, near Ghazipur, and that Bhyro Singh had got him a good job at the opium factory.
Then one day, some three years after the Arakan campaign, Kesri was summoned by Bhyro Singh, who was now at the very top of the ladder of sepoy ranks — a subedar. His brother, Nirbhay Singh, now a jamadar, was also with him.
Was it true, they wanted to know, that Kesri had a younger sister who was still unmarried?
This was completely unexpected but Kesri gathered his wits together and said yes, it was true that his youngest sister, Deeti, was still unmarried.
They explained to him that they had received a letter from Hukam Singh: he and his brother Chandan had gone to the mela near Nayanpur, and had learnt about Deeti from the sadhus. Hukam Singh was keen to marry her and had asked Kesri to intercede with his parents.
But is Hukam Singh well enough to get married? said Kesri. He wasn’t in good health when I last saw him.
Bhyro Singh nodded: Yes, Hukam Singh has recovered his health, although he will always walk with a limp. He wants nothing more than to marry.
Seeing that Kesri was still unconvinced, Bhyro Singh added: What is to lose? I hear your sister’s stars are not good, and she is already of an age when it will be hard for her to find a husband. Hukam Singh has a good job and several bighas of land. Isn’t this a good offer?
The truth of this could not be denied: Kesri knew that his parents were worried about Deeti’s marital prospects and he did not doubt that they would be overjoyed by the proposal. And nor would Hukam Singh, in his present state, make an objectionable husband: he was a changed man now; no longer was he the vicious bully he had been in the past.
Yet, something in Kesri jibbed at the thought of handing his beloved Deeti to a member of Bhyro Singh’s family.
Bhyro Singh must have read his reluctance on his face, for he said: Listen, Naik Kesri Singh, there is another thing you should consider: this marriage would link your family to ours and it would make you one of us. And if you were one of us, we would see to it that you were quickly promoted to havildar. What do you say? Why don’t we settle it right now? I am going home on leave soon, and I would like to see Hukam Singh settled and married while I am there.
Kesri realized then that this was not just an offer but also a threat. A promotion had been due to him for a while and he knew that the only reason he had not received it was because Bhyro Singh, as the battalion’s subedar, had not supported it. If he turned down this offer now another promotion might never come his way.
He took a deep breath.
Hokhe di jaisan kahtani, he said. Let it be as you say; I will send a letter home.
Within a few months the marriage was arranged. Kesri was unable to attend the wedding but he heard about it from Bhyro Singh, who told him that everything had gone exactly as it was meant to and the marriage had been duly consummated on the wedding night. Deeti had been found to be a virtuous woman, a virgin.
At the end of the year, he heard from his family that Deeti had given birth to a daughter, by the name of Kabutri.
The next year Kesri went on leave again, for the fourth time in his twelve years of service. He was now the father of three children, one boy and two girls. His second daughter had been born after his last visit and he had yet to see her.
During his stay in Nayanpur, Deeti came to visit, with her daughter. She had looked a little careworn and had stayed only a couple of nights: but as far as Kesri could tell she was content with her lot — she had certainly made no complaint and just before leaving she had painted a picture of Kabutri and given it to Kesri. He still had it in his keeping.
It grieved Kesri now to think of his little sister as a widow already. He could not understand why his family had not written, or sent word of what had happened.
Six
November 4, 1839
Honam
Two days ago an urgent letter arrived from Zhong Lou-si, who is away in another county, touring with Commissioner Lin. The letter said that Compton and I were to leave immediately for Whampoa, to catch a passage-boat. We were to travel to Humen, which is the location of a customs house where every incoming ship has to obtain clearance to proceed to Canton.
Apparently a British-owned vessel, the Royal Saxon, had just come in from Java; the captain, an Englishman, had indicated that he wanted to proceed to Canton with his goods. The captain had even indicated that he was willing to sign a bond, forswearing the opium trade, on penalty of his life. This was good news for us, because Captain Elliot has for the last several months prevented British merchants from coming to Canton because he did not want them to sign the bond. But here at last was a sign that British merchants were at last willing to defy the Plenipotentiary himself — this was exactly what Commissioner Lin has been hoping for. One other English vessel had already broken Captain Elliot’s embargo: if the Royal Saxon too was able to proceed to Canton then many others would surely follow — it would be a great victory for Commissioner Lin!