Free The Gandhian Adventures of Raj & Iqbal: A Novel by Zubin J. Shroff Page B

not even standing there anymore. And so I found myself alone with my felled victim, the innocent tomato, the red bulb of sweetness that did not deserve my abuses but received them nonetheless. I had committed an act of violence, and though the act itself had been successful, my ultimate goal had been left unfulfilled. What a terrible position for a Gandhian to be in, and I felt appropriately terrible. I stepped up to the fallen ball of redness and reached out to caress its fallen form, but a loud voice stopped me and I remained there frozen, arm outstretched, my crime apparent for all to see and laugh at.
    Bombay-ducks are here, shouted Bhatkoo from across the hydroponic garden.
    I swallowed hard. Could it be that no one had witnessed my hate-crime? Could it be that all of it was a hallucination due to lack of food and excessive lightness in the stomach and therefore head? Better not to take any chances, I thought, and so I pocketed the tomato and hurried to the door-shaped opening where the slender Bombay-duck sang her song of victory.
    After sitting down in the sitting area, I stayed quiet and did not speak even when spoken to. Iqbal was looking at me in a way I had not seen him look before, and Netaji was looking at Iqbal in a way that I could not interpret. Finally Netaji turned to me and smiled.
    You may keep that tomato, he said.
    I was speechless, and quickly checked my pocket to see if the tomato was visible. It was not. I looked up and my eyes locked with the dark dancing eyes of Bhatkoo, the madman’s servant. His eyes told me he had observed all and reported all, and my respect for this Bhatkoo increased from the previous level of low to the current level of medium. Crafty bugger, this Bhatkoo. And observant as well.
    Now Netaji turned back to Iqbal. And your onions will be packaged and brought out to you shortly, he said.
    Thank you, said Iqbal.
    I stared at Iqbal in wonder and delight. Onions. This meant that Iqbal’s onion problem had been solved. Our pursuit had reached the end, and although the truth was still not so clear to me, the fact that our initial problem had been solved meant that the truth had been pursued to some degree of success. Perhaps later reflection would reveal the truth in its simplest and most beautiful form, but for now we could celebrate our successful completion of the first serious Gandhian pursuit launched by myself and Iqbal, my Gandhian brother in life.
    At this point Netaji rose up and stepped away from the seating area to speak with Bhatkoo, and I took advantage of this moment of semi-privacy to congratulate my brother on solving his onion problem.
    So now we can go, I said to him with relief.
    No, he said quietly.
    Ah okay, I replied, you want to eat the Bombay-duck first.
    Yes, he said quietly.
    No problem, I said, even I will eat the slender charming Duck with you in celebration.
    Iqbal simply nodded.
    And then we can go, I said to him with relief and some relish as the smell of spicy fried fish invaded my senses.
    No, said Iqbal.
    Means what, I said.
    Means now we are part of this group, said Iqbal, and so this is our place now.
    Means what, I said.
    Means we are new recruits to Netaji’s Hydroponic Foreign Policy Institute, he said, and this means we have duties to perform before our activation is complete and we are allowed outside this building and courtyard on our own.
    Means what, I said again. But now my tone had changed from relief and confusion to panic and convolution.
    Means we cannot go home until some tasks are performed to Netaji’s satisfaction, said Iqbal.
    What bloody tasks, I asked. I knew there could be no satisfying a madman, and so I wondered if I would ever see my wife again.
    Mind your language please, said Netaji. He had returned behind my back, and now he stood in front of my front.
    Sorry, I said, but Iqbal was just updating me on this unacceptable situation of not being allowed to leave this place.
    Yes, said Netaji, you are both new recruits, and