His happy cycle ride revealed his joy; he was looking at the happy faces passing by. People were happy that finally the British were going to quit India. He had closed his electric shop two hours before the usual closing time, for he did want to celebrate the occasion with his old parents, his wife Kulwant Kaur, and his children, Komal Singh, Arjun Singh, and Monika Kaur. His sons were six and four years old respectively and daughter Monika was barely eighteen months old.

He was a very happily married man, for there was nothing that they lacked: the business was good, old father’s pension from the university was ample, and the produce of their fields in the nearby village brought in some added income. In a way he was a well off middle class person who rejoiced in all those events which transform themselves into the pleasure of common men.

“So early today? Is everything all right?” his wife had a worried expression on her face when she opened the front door immediately after the first ring of the door bell.

“Yes…yes… all is well. I have good news. The Queen has agreed to hand over the power to the Indian leaders and decided to quit India,” he was bubbling with joy.

“This is really wonderful. Now our children will grow up in independent India. They will not have to bow before the white sahibs as your father and you have been doing all your life,” she tried to add a little humour to her tone.

“I have brought some sweets and fruits for the children. Father had been asking for a new pair of eye-glasses and I have brought them too.”

“First you change and I will bring a hot cup of tea for you,” she smiled and sashayed her way into the kitchen, as if she had regained the childish way of expressing her joy.

“Gurbachan…” his father called from the inner room.
“Yes, Babuji, I am coming,” he immediately entered the adjoining room.

“I heard the news on the radio. Something is not right, son. Mr. Jinnah’s rhetoric does not seem to be comforting. I have a premonition that we will have to go to our part of India. The demand for Pakistan is gaining strength day by day, and if materialized the consequences would not be good. I smell hatred in the voices of the Muslim leaders,” his father indicated to the chair near his bed.

“Yes, Babuji, I feel too but nothing will happen. We have been living cordially with Muslims for centuries and these leaders cannot succeed in their conspiracy of raising walls between the two communities,” he tried to argue.

“My son, times have changed and this world is not the world where love and peace prevailed once. You try to think seriously and write to your friend Lala Moolchand in Delhi. I feel that you should go to Delhi once and meet people to know their views,” his father spoke from his experience.

“All right, Babuji, I will visit Delhi this Saturday and meet Lala Moolchand,” he said obediently, for he had never gone against the wishes of his father. It was the result of the rich culture which had taught his that elders are to be respected and obeyed, though in some cases he knew that what elders said was not right but in this case he was sure that his father was really worried and he wanted good of the children.

“I have brought your glasses, Babuji,” he handed the packet to his father.

“God bless you, my son. Every parent should have a son like you,” he kept his hand on Gurbachan Singh’s head that had obediently bowed before his father. He touched his father’s feet and went out of the room.
In his bedroom, the domestic joys had already started. The radio was on and K. L. Sehgal’s melodious voice filled the ambiance. The sons were enjoying their sweets and little Monika tried to jump towards him when she saw him enter the room. Kulwant Kaur tried to hold onto her but she insisted on going to her father’s lap. Gurbachan Singh kissed his daughter on her forehead and smiled. He felt a new kind of joy pervading the house, the joy emanating from the imminent independence of the country. His youth had passed in talking about the revolutionaries and their efforts, or Gandhi and his non-violence.   But all that was now past and a new beginning was visible.

Kulwant Kaur arranged the dinner and all gathered there to enjoy the dishes which she had cooked that day.