Ganesh sat on orange cushions on a low platform below a carving of Hanuman, the monkey god. He recited a long Hindi prayer, then used a mango-leaf to sprinkle water from a brass jar over the meeting.
Partap, sitting cross-legged on a charpoy next to the boy, said in Hindi, ‘Ganges water.’
The boy said, ‘Go to France!’
Ganesh made them all swear a terrible oath of secrecy.
Then he stood up and tossed his green scarf over his shoulder. ‘What I want to say today is very simple. We want to use the money given us well, and at the same time we want to stop Narayan making more trouble. He says he is competent to handle the money. We know that.’
There was laughter. Ganesh took a sip of Coca-Cola from a prutty prutty glass. ‘To get the money, we mustn’t only remove Narayan, we must form one united Hindu body.’
There were cries of approval.
‘The Hindu Association isn’t a very large body. There are more of us here than in the Hindu Association. The Association wants to get new members and I have called you here today to beg you to form your own branches of the Hindu Association.’
Murmurings.
The boy said, ‘But I thought we was going to form the Hindu League today.’
Ganesh raised his hand. ‘I am doing this only for the sake of Hindu unity in Trinidad.’
Some people cried in Hindi, ‘Long live Ganesh!’
‘But what about the League?’ the boy said.
‘We are not going to form the League. In less than three weeks the Hindu Association is going to hold its second General Meeting. Many officers will be elected and I hope to see all of you among them.’
The meeting clapped.
Swami stood up with difficulty. ‘Mr President Ganesh, sir, may I ask how you is going to see that happen?’
The meeting clapped again and Swami sat down.
‘This is the problem: how can we win the elections at the General Meeting of the Association? The solution: by having more delegates than anybody else. How do we get delegates? By forming more branches. I expect the fifty of you here to form fifty branches. Every branch will send three delegates to the Meeting.’
Swami rose again. ‘Mr President Ganesh, sir, may I ask how you is going to give each and every one of we here three delegates, sahib?’
‘It have — there are hundreds of people who are willing to do me a favour.’
The boy got up amid applause for Swami and Ganesh. ‘All right, it sound all right. But what make you feel that Narayan not going to do the same thing as we?’
Murmurs of, ‘The boy little but he smart, man,’ and, ‘Who son he is?’
Swami got up almost as soon as he had sat down. There was more applause for him. He smiled, fingered the letter in his shirt pocket, and held up his hand for the ovation to cease. ‘Mr President Ganesh, sahib, with your permission, sahib, I is going to answer the boy question. After all, he is my own nephew, my own sister son.’
Thunderous applause. Cries of, ‘Shh! Shh! Let we hear what the man saying, man.’
‘It seem to me, Mr President Ganesh, that the boy question sort of answer itself, sahib. First, who go take Narayan serious now? Who go listen to him? Mr President Ganesh, I is the editorin-chief of The Dharma. That paper make Narayan a laughing-stock. Second point, sahib. Narayan ain’t have the brains to do anything like this.’
Laughter.
Swami held up his hand again. ‘Third and last point, sahib. The element of surprise. That is the element that go beat Narayan.’
Shouts of, ‘Long live Swami! Long live Swami’s nephew!’
Partap asked, ‘What about transport, pundit? I was thinking. I could get some vans from Parcel Post —’
‘I have five taxis,’ Ganesh said. ‘And I have many taxi-drivers who are friends.’
The taxi-drivers in the gathering laughed.
Ganesh made the closing speech. ‘Remember, is only Narayan we fighting. Remember, is Hindu unity we fighting for.’ And before the gathering broke up he rallied them with a cry, ‘Don’t forget you have a paper behind you!’
The next day, Sunday, the Sentinel reported the formation of the Hindu League. According to the President, Pundit Ganesh Ramsumair, the League already had twenty branches.
On Tuesday — the Sentinel isn’t published on Monday — Narayan said that the Hindu Association had thirty branches. On Wednesday the League said it had doubled its membership and had forty branches. On Thursday the Association had doubled its membership and had sixty. The League was silent on Friday. On Saturday the Association claimed eighty branches. Nobody said anything on Sunday.
On Tuesday Narayan stated at a press conference that the Hindu Association was clearly the competent Hindu body and was going to press for the grant of thirty thousand dollars immediately after the election of officers at its second General Meeting that Sunday.
The Hindu Association was to meet in Carapichaima at the hall of a Friendly Society, a large Mission-school-type building with pillars ten feet high and a pyramidal roof of galvanized iron. Concrete upstairs, downstairs lattice-work around the pillars. A large black and silver sign-board eloquent about the Society’s benefits, including ‘free burial of members’.
The second General Meeting of the Hindu Association was to begin at one in the afternoon but when Ganesh and his supporters arrived in taxis at about half-past one all they saw were three men dressed in white, among them a tall Negro with a long beard who looked holy.
Ganesh had warned that blows might pass and as soon as the taxi came to Carapichaima, Swami, armed with a stout poui stick, sat on the edge of his seat and began shouting, ‘Where Narayan? Narayan, where you is? I want to meet you today!’
Now he calmed down.
Ganesh’s men quickly overran the place. Partap, showing an initiative that surprised Ganesh, went with the advance party.
‘Narayan ain’t here,’ the boy said with relief.
Swami beat his stick on the dusty ground. ‘Is a trick, sahib. And today was the day I did want to meet Narayan.’
Then Partap came back with the news that the delegates of the Hindu Association were eating in a room upstairs.
Ganesh, with Swami, Partap, and the boy, walked across the dirt-and-asphalt yard to the wooden steps at the side of the building.
The boy said, ‘All you better protect me good, you hear. If I get beat up here today it go have hell to pay.’
Half-way up the steps Swami shouted, ‘Narayan!’
He was on the top landing, an old man, very small, very thin, in a soiled and clumsy white-drill suit. His face was screwed up into an expression of great pain. He looked dyspeptic. He turned away and went to lean on the half-wall of the top verandah, staring intently at the mango trees and small wooden houses across the road.
Ganesh and his men walked noisily up the steps, the boy making more noise than any.
Swami said, ‘Take my poui and hit him on he bald head while he looking over, sahib. Is the chance of a life-time.’
Ganesh said, ‘You ain’t know how right you is.’
The boy said, ‘You have three witnesses here that he just overbalance and fall down.’
Ganesh didn’t respond.
The boy said, ‘Gimme the stick. I go settle Narayan.’
Swami smiled. ‘You too small.’
Ganesh’s supporters were distributing The Dharma right and left, to people passing in the road, to the eating delegates, to the delegates walking about the yard. At first they tried to get four cents a copy but now they were just giving the paper away.