Only a few close friends know his hiding place. One of them is a Moslem League official, an influential man these days since many Moslem Leaguers are supporting the army. “He knows where I am hiding, but he dare not help me, the Hindu says. He believes that nearly all Moslem Bengalis sympathize with the Hindus. “But what can they do? They, to o. are in danger and they are afraid."
All the Hindu's property is on an army list of “alien properties.” In other areas it is called 'enemy properties.” but in either case it is scheduled to be confiscated and put up for auction. The Hindu talks much about losing his property- but the greater danger is losing his life.
“My Moslem friends tell me that Hindu bodies taken from the river are so disfigured from tortures that the faces cannot be identified,” the Hindu says before picking up his umbrella and heading back across the fields to his hiding place.
A Headmaster Recites His Lesson
The travelers visit a town near the India border. One of the last towns to be retaken by the army, in is heavily damaged and is still largely deserted. Here the local peace committee-a unit composed of some Bihari and conservative Bengali Moslem Leaguers who serve as the local eyes and ears of the army- assigns two youths to guide and shadow the visitors. “Come to the school and talk to the Headmaster.” they say.
The headmaster, a middle-aged Bengali, sits behind his desk. The reporters sit facing him. And standing behind the reporters, also facing the Headmaster, are the young peace- committee shadows. In a faltering voice the Headmaster being to recite statistics of school enrollment, dates when school house cornerstones were laid-anything uncontroversial. At the end of each sentence he glances up, past the reporters, to the shadows, like a schoolboy reciting his lessons to a teacher with a stick.
How was the school damaged? the reporters ask. “There was some strafing.” he mumbles. Then, looking up at the teen-age shadows, he hurriedly adds, “and may be it was damaged by miscreants."
As the reporters and their shadows leave, the professor mumbles. “We are trying to hold together,” and then he stares down at the ground.
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