Midnights Children

mystery to him; but it was clear that his aunt Emerald was putting on her finest jewels. The farce of four-prime-ministers-in-two-years had never made him giggle; but he could sense, in the air of drama hanging over the General’s house, that something like a final curtain was approaching. Ignorant of the emergence of the Republican party, he was nevertheless curious about the guest-list for the Zulfikar party; although he was in a country where names meant nothing—who was Chaudhuri Muhammad Ali? Or Suhrawardy? Or Chundrigar, or Noon?—the anonymity of the dinner-guests, which was carefully preserved by his uncle and aunt, was a puzzling thing. Even though he had once cut Pakistani headlines out of newspapers— FURNITURE HURLING SLAYS DEPUTY E-PAK SPEAKER —he had no idea why, at six p.m., a long line of black limousines came through the sentried walls of the Zulfikar Estate; why flags waved on their bonnets; why their occupants refused to smile; or why Emerald and Pia and my mother stood behind General Zulfikar with expressions on their faces which would have seemed more appropriate at a funeral than a social gathering. Who what was dying? Who why were the limousine arrivals?—I had no idea; but I was on my toes behind my mother, staring at the smoked-glass windows of the enigmatic cars.
    Car-doors opened; equerries, adjutants, leaped out of vehicles and opened rear doors, saluted stiffly; a small muscle began to tic in my aunt Emerald’s cheek. And then, who descended from the flag-waving motors? What names should be put to the fabulous array of moustaches, swagger-sticks, gimlet-eyes, medals and shoulder-pips which emerged? Saleem knew neither names nor serial numbers; ranks, however, could be discerned. Gongs and pips, proudly worn on chests and shoulders, announced the arrival of very top brass indeed. And out of the last car came a tall man with an astonishingly round head, round as a tin globe although unmarked by lines of longitude and latitude; planet-headed, he was not labelled like the orb which the Monkey had once squashed; not MADE AS ENGLAND (although certainly Sandhurst-trained) he moved through saluting gongs-and-pips; arrived at my aunt Emerald; and added his own salute to the rest.
    “Mr. Commander-in-Chief,” my aunt said, “be welcome in our home.”
    “Emerald, Emerald,” came from the mouth set in the earth-shaped head—the mouth positioned immediately beneath a neat moustache, “Why such formality, such takalluf?” Whereupon she embraced him with, “Well then, Ayub, you’re looking wonderful.”
    He was a General then, though Field-Marshalship was not far away … we followed him into the house; we watched him drink (water) and laugh (loudly); at dinner we watched him again, saw how he ate like a peasant, so that his moustache became stained with gravy … “Listen, Em,” he said, “Always such preparations when I come! But I’m only a simple soldier; dal and rice from your kitchens would be a feast for me.”
    “A soldier, sir,” my aunt replied, “but simple—never! Not once!”
    Long trousers qualified me to sit at table, next to cousin Zafar, surrounded by gongs-and-pips; tender years, however, placed us both under an obligation to be silent. (General Zulfikar told me in a military hiss, “One peep out of you and you’re off to the guardhouse. If you want to stay, stay mum. Got it?” Staying mum, Zafar and I were free to look and listen. But Zafar, unlike me, was not trying to prove himself worthy of his name …)
    What did eleven-year-olds hear at dinner? What did they understand by jocund military references to “that Suhrawardy, who always opposed the Pakistan Idea”—or to Noon, “who should have been called Sunset, what?” And through discussions of election-rigging and black-money, what undercurrent of danger permeated their skins, making the downy hairs on their arms stand on end? And when the Commander-in-Chief quoted the Quran, how much of its meaning was understood by eleven-year-old ears?
    “It is written,” said the round-headed man, and the gongs-and-pips fell silent, “
Aad and Thamoud we also destroyed. Satan had made their foul deeds seem fair to them, keen-sighted though they were.
”
    It was as though a cue had been given; a wave of my aunt’s hands dismissed the servants. She rose to go herself; my mother and Pia went with her. Zafar and I, too, rose from our seats, but
he
, he himself, called down the length of the sumptuous table: