Johnny raised the stick, and brought it down on Joseph’s back with a resounding smack. Joseph howled, and tried to crawl away, but the circle of young men pushed him back to the centre of their group. Johnny struck him with the stick again. Joseph screamed angrily, but the young men slapped at him and shouted for silence. Johnny raised the stick, and Joseph cowered, trying to focus his bleary eyes.
‘Do you know what you have done?’ Johnny demanded harshly. He brought the stick down with a whack on Joseph’s shoulder. ‘Speak, you drunken dog! Do you know what a terrible thing you have done?’
‘Stop hitting me!’ Joseph snarled. ‘Why are you doing this?’
‘Do you know what you have done?’ Johnny repeated. The stick struck again.
‘Ow-ah!’ Joseph shrieked. ‘What? What have I done? I’ve done nothing!’
Veejay took the stick, and beat Joseph on the upper arm.
‘You beat your wife, you drunken pig! You beat her, and maybe she will die!’
He passed the stick to Jeetendra, who used it to smack Joseph on the thigh.
‘She’s dying! You are a murderer! You murdered your own wife.’
Joseph tried to shield himself with his arms, casting his eyes about feverishly for some escape. Jeetendra lifted the stick again.
‘You beat your wife all morning, and threw her naked from the hut. Take that, you drunkard! And that! Just as you beat her. How do you like it, you murderer?’
The slow creep of a foggy comprehension stiffened Joseph’s face into a terrified anguish. Jeetendra passed the stick to Prabaker, and the next blow brought tears.
‘Oh, no!’ he sobbed. ‘It’s not true! I haven’t done anything! Oh, what will happen to me? I didn’t mean to kill her! God in heaven, what will happen to me? Give me water. I need water!’
‘No water,’ Qasim Ali said.
The stick came down again and again. It was in Andhkaara’s hand.
‘Worrying about yourself, dog? What about your poor wife? You didn’t worry when you beat her. This is not the first time you took this stick to her, is it? Now it is finished. You killed her. You can never beat her again, not her or anyone. You will die in the jail.’
Johnny Cigar took the stick again.
‘Such a big, strong fellow you are! So brave to beat your wife, who is half your size. Come on and beat
‘Water…’ Joseph blubbered, collapsing to the ground in tears of self-pity.
‘No water,’ Qasim Ali said, and Joseph drifted into unconsciousness once more.
When they woke him the next time, Joseph had been in the sun for almost two hours, and his distress was great. He shouted for water, but they offered him only the daru bottle. I could see that he wanted to refuse it, but his thirst was becoming desperate. He accepted the bottle with trembling hands. Just as the first drops touched his parched tongue, the stick came down again. Daru spilled over his stubbled chin, and ran from his gaping mouth. He dropped the bottle. Johnny picked it up and poured the remaining alcohol over his head. Joseph shrieked and tried to scramble away on his hands and knees, but the circle of men wrestled him back to the centre. Jeetendra wielded the stick, smacking it onto his buttocks and legs. Joseph whined and wept and moaned.
Qasim Ali was sitting to one side, in the shaded doorway of a hut. He called Prabaker to him, and gave orders that a number of Joseph’s friends and relatives should be sent for, as well as relatives of Maria, Joseph’s wife. As the people arrived, they took the places of the young men in the circle, and Joseph’s torment continued. For several hours, his friends and relatives and neighbours took turns to vilify and accuse him, beating him with the stick he’d used to assault his wife so savagely. The blows were sharp, and they hurt him, but they weren’t severe enough to break the skin. It was a measured punishment that was painful, but never vicious.
I left the scene, and returned a few times during the afternoon. Many of the slum-dwellers who were passing that way stopped to watch. People joined the circle around Joseph, or left it, as they wished. Qasim Ali sat in the doorway of the hut, his back straight and his expression grave, never taking his eyes from the circle. He directed the punishment with a quiet word or a subtle gesture, keeping a relentless pressure on the man, but preventing any excesses.
Joseph passed out twice more before he finally broke down. When the end came, he was crushed. All the spite and defiance in him were defeated. He sobbed the name of his wife over and over again.
