"Papaji thank you. Mom, let's run, my exams tomorrow, I don't want to miss the train." Holding Sujata's hand, pulling her as she looked backwards to say goodbye to Jagat, Teg ran, bought the tickets and boarded the train.
Jagat's reputation of a warrior for independence had reached the new board chair Khela Singh when he was still in Calcutta where he had struck rich in transportation and construction before leaving his sons to look after his business and returning to Chajjuwara, his place of birth. Jagat was offered not just a teaching position but the Principalship but at a salary lower than Preeti's. Unfortunately Khela's riches and love for the freedom fighter didn't translate into appropriate remuneration for him.
"We shall raise your salary as we have more resources. Please accept our offer. Your record in the freedom struggle will enhance the prestige of our college," Khela said.
Jagat needed the job and recollecting Preeti's reminder "educating three sons will require money" and accepted.
With Jagat as Principal, Peon Shiv Singh felt ascended to the Principalship himself. Unmarried, old and alone, in Preeti and Jagat, he saw children as his own.
"Sahib, shall I bring you a cup of hot tea?" Shiv asked Jagat as he entered the office his first day as Principal.
"Bapuji, I'm not Sahib and you are not gulam; slave no more. It cost us many lives and decades to gain independence from the Sahibs. Yes, please bring two cups of tea." Shiv Singh wondered why two as he walked away. Soon he and Jagat sat in chairs across the Principal's table and sipped tea; the Peon and the Principal as equals; that's kind of India Jagat had languished long years in jails for.
Jagat usually rode his bike to college. It saved money and kept him healthy. He visited the bungalow every day. Partap helped him hire cleaners and painters to refurbish the small home dubbed Moustachioed's Mansion. A weekly visit by the gardener kept the yard clean and green. Partap found renters for the place. Jagat kept the room on the side with a separate entrance for use by the family in case anyone wanted to stay at Chajjuwara. Preeti's death had kindled in him a kinship with her bungalow and the bundle of memories connected with it.
One morning Jagat perused some documents at the office when Shive Singh stood in the door and asked, "Ji what about your car. You come on the bike every day. A Principal without a car, Sahib, I've seen seven Principals come and go, none without a car. Even Preeti Madam used the car. Sahib there is hierarchy amongst the rich you know about but there is one amongst the poor too, as vicious as caste."
"Not my car, Preeti's dad's, I could never afford one." he said.
Even though it was in need of repair and a paint job, in the poor country even his rickety Fiat lent him an appearance of wealth and he smiled. At the moment Seebo's deteriorating mental and condition and Gamma's son Gogi's actions were troubling him. Preeti had persuaded the bright young Gogi to enrol at college and had paid all his fees and expenses and gave her bike to him for travelling as she would have done for any of her sons. Jagat had continued the arrangement but shortly after Preeti's murder Gogi failed two of his courses. A few days later Gamma and he had an argument and Gogi left home to live with Gamma's brother. Jagat, Gamma and his wife Puro took turns persuading him to at least return to college but to no avail. Gamma didn't have the heart to tell Jagat the whole story.
"You're a servant in Jagat's home but he's a Jat and you Chamaar, you'll always be subservient. This isn't equality I want, equality out of individual kindness, I want absolute equality," he had said to Gamma.
An exhausted and hungry Jagat rode back from college to the khooh and finding no one there rode home. Entering the home he saw Seebo lay on a cot in one corner,
"Bhaaji she was hallucinating saying she saw Bhapa Buggan coming to get her and a few moments ago she stopped talking. I thought she'd gone to sleep," said Seeto with teary eyes.
Seebo, whose soul had been widowed and ravaged long ago by Qaadian, was sent up in flames to the heavens above that afternoon. Had it not been done quickly enough her body would have rotted and sent up a stench as lethal as did the vacuous morality of Qaadian that once mocked her pining for Atma but slept through the brutal rape of Sulakhani by Gundu.
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