Crimson City by Madhulika Liddle

Author:Madhulika Liddle [Liddle, Madhulika]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Hachette India
Published: 2015-09-24T23:00:00+00:00

The munshi who managed his jagir, his estates, came to spend half of the next day in discussions, bringing with him the news of his master’s lands, and taking back with him the decisions, the money, and the greetings that Muzaffar sent for those who lived and worked on his land. There would be some rancour, for Muzaffar had been forced by powers beyond his control to extract revenues despite a poor crop. He had tried to be fair by ensuring that the burden of paying those taxes was distributed in such a way as to be heavier on the relatively wealthy farmers. They would smart at it, but they – and the rest of the populace – would perhaps also be grateful, even if grudgingly, for the wells Muzaffar had ordered dug, the seed he had ordered bought and distributed, and the gifts he had sent: sugarcane, grain, jaggery, cloth. These were hard times, and the hardest hit were – as ever – the poor. Guilt weighed on Muzaffar even as he bade farewell to his munshi.

The next three days were days of ennui. Muzaffar loitered about the house, trying to find things to do. He took a round of the entire haveli, all the way from the dalaan where he entertained guests, to the stables and the storehouses, into the very private depths of the mahal sara. He noted down what needed to be repaired or refurbished, had long discussions with his steward Javed, and gave instructions for some plaster to be relaid, some sections to be painted, and some new sheets to be purchased for the mattresses in the dalaan.

He tried to read, but even this – one of his favourite pastimes – was unsatisfying, because he found it well-nigh impossible to concentrate. He would open a book and begin reading, but find after half an hour that he was still on the first page, and that too with no knowledge of what he had been reading. His mind wandered, trying to make sense of all that he had learned in these past days. Of Aadil, of Ameena, of the man most recently murdered. There was too much to mull over, too much to wonder about. Too many questions rose in his mind, and, because he had vowed to himself that he would not ask them, they fermented, creating possible answers, suggesting theories, maddening him.

Shireen, although she cast him a reproachful glance now and then, had not attempted any further persuasion. He respected her for it. At the same time, in the perverse way of a restless, obstinate man, he resented the ease with which she had given up. He wondered how long he would have resisted if Shireen had gone on insisting that he investigate the murders of their mohallah on his own.

In the late afternoon of the third day, fed up with sitting at home, Muzaffar went out. His intention was to visit his friend Akram, a man as conforming as Muzaffar was maverick; as

Download

Copyright Disclaimer:
This site does not store any files on its server. We only index and link to content provided by other sites. Please contact the content providers to delete copyright contents if any and email us, we'll remove relevant links or contents immediately.