Saadat Manto - My Name Is Radha

Haibat Khan showed up a week later. During this time Sardar had already turned away two old clients.

He came with the same pomp and pageantry as he had the first time. The moment he stepped in he pulled Navab to his chest and clasped her tightly. Sardar remained silent. Navab took him, or rather Haibat Khan took her, to the room with the palang. This time Sardar didn’t interfere. She stayed on her cot, took her pellet, and started to doze off.

Haibat Khan enjoyed himself a lot. He was even more pleased by Navab’s youthful coltishness. She was totally innocent of the wiles and antics of professional prostitutes, but also didn’t show any trace of the domesticity of ordinary women. She had a quality that was entirely her own. She lay down with him like a child with its mother, running its hand over her breasts, sticking its fingers in her nose, pulling at her hair, and little by little falling asleep.

This was a wholly new experience for Haibat Khan. He found her to be an entirely new breed of woman: unique, interesting and delightful. He started coming twice a week. Navab had become an attraction he couldn’t resist.

Sardar was happy that she was getting plenty of notes to tuck into her waistband. Navab, however, often wondered, in spite of her naivety and coltishness, why it was that Haibat Khan appeared to be afraid of something. Why did he start when a lorry or a car sped by on the dirt road beyond the reeds? Why did he withdraw his body from hers and hurry out stealthily to see who it might be?

One night, about twelve o’clock, when they were asleep in each other’s arms, a lorry went by. A tremor shot through him and he abruptly sat up. Navab was in a light sleep and his tremor shook her like a seismic jolt. ‘What happened?’ she shrieked.

By now he’d gotten hold of himself a little. Making an effort to regain complete control over himself he said, ‘Nothing. . Perhaps I was frightened in my dream.’

In the stillness of the night the sound of the lorry could still be heard in the distance.

‘No, Khan, it’s something else,’ she said. ‘You react the same way every time a car or a lorry passes by.’

Navab had put her finger on his painful nerve. In a sharp tone, calculated to restore his male pride, he berated her, ‘Don’t talk nonsense! The sound of cars and lorries — huh, who’s frightened of that?’

Her heart was much too fragile. His sharp tone cut her to the quick and she began to cry inconsolably. In his effort to calm her down he became aware of the most delicate pleasure of his life and his body drew even closer to hers.

Haibat Khan was a tall, handsome man with well-toned muscles. For the first time in her life Navab experienced the soothing warmth of his arms as he mentored her in the basics of sexual pleasure. She began to love him, or the meaning of whatever love was became known to her. Now when he disappeared for weeks she played doleful love songs on the gramophone, sang along. . and sighed. But the puzzle of why he was so apprehensive of the sound of cars continued to agitate her mind.

Months went by. Her ability to give herself to him and her regard for him grew stronger. Now, though, another matter added to her confusion. He would visit her for only a few hours and then leave in a terribly agitated state. She understood that this was perhaps due to some reason beyond his control, otherwise he would have stayed with her longer.

She asked him about it several times, but he was evasive. One morning his Dodge pulled up beyond the reeds. Navab was still asleep. When he honked, she woke up and came out, rubbing her eyes. By then he had already parked the car and walked up to the house. Navab ran and wrapped herself around him. He picked her up and brought her into the room with the palang.

They talked for a long time, with words full of love. Heaven knows what came over Navab that she made her first ever request from him: ‘Khan, buy me a pair of gold bracelets.’

He kissed her plump, rosy wrists several times and said, ‘You’ll have them by tomorrow. What are bracelets, I’ll give you my life.’

With an air, but not without her peculiar coltish manner, she said, ‘Never mind, Khan Sahib. It will eventually be I who gives up her life.’

Her words prompted him to offer his life as a sacrifice for her over and over again. He left after a delightful time in her company, promising to return the next day and clasp the bracelets around her wrists himself.

Navab was happy. That night she played cheerful songs on her gramophone and danced around the room with the palang well into the night. Sardar was happy as well. That night too she took a big opium pellet and fell asleep.

The next day Navab’s happiness was even greater; she was going to get her gold bracelets and Haibat Khan would put them around her wrists himself. She waited all day. He didn’t come. Perhaps his car broke down, she thought, perhaps he will come in the evening. She stayed awake the whole night, but he didn’t show up. Her gentle heart was hurt badly. ‘Look,’ she repeatedly said to her mother, or whatever she was, ‘the Khan hasn’t returned. He went back on his promise.’

In the days that followed, she would lose herself in thought for a while and then wonder, cringing from some foreboding, ‘Could something have happened to him?’

Many possibilities assailed her mind: car accident, sudden illness, attack by some highway robber. But her mind repeatedly went back to the sounds of cars and lorries that frightened him so. She thought about it for the longest time but couldn’t comprehend why.

A whole week went by during which not one of her old clients visited, Sardar having already told them to stay away, although a few lorries and a couple of cars did go by, raising clouds of smoke on the dirt road. Every time one of them passed, the relentless desire to run after it and set it on fire overwhelmed Navab. She felt that these were the very things that were keeping Khan away. But after a while, she would wonder how such vehicles could be an impediment and laugh at her foolishness.

Why a strong man like Haibat Khan would cringe from fear at the sound of vehicles was beyond her understanding. That he cringed was a fact and no argument could change that. This made her very sad. On her gramophone she now played songs full of pain and anguish that made tears well up in her eyes.

A week later, after Navab and Sardar had finished their lunch one afternoon and were thinking of taking a nap, suddenly a car honked outside. They started because the horn didn’t sound like Haibat Khan’s Dodge. Sardar darted out to see who it was and send him away if it happened to be an old client. But as she got close to the reeds, she saw Haibat Khan sitting in a brand new car, with a well-dressed beautiful woman in the rear seat.

He parked the car some distance away and got out, so did the woman, and both approached the house. Sardar was confounded. Haibat Khan came here to have a woman, why has this well-dressed and beautiful young woman tagged along? What does she want?

She was still wondering about it when Haibat Khan stepped into the house with the woman, decked out in priceless jewels, in tow. Sardar followed them, but neither paid any attention to her.

When Sardar entered the room with the palang, she found Haibat Khan, Navab and the other woman sitting on it in a heavy silence — a strange silence. However, the bejewelled woman seemed to be a bit restless because one of her legs was shaking badly.

Sardar stopped at the door. The sound of her footsteps made Haibat Khan look up. She greeted him. He didn’t respond. He looked terribly upset. But the woman stopped shaking her legs and spoke directly to Sardar, ‘We’re here; at least prepare something for us to eat.’

‘Just say what you would like and it will be made ready,’ Sardar replied hospitably.