It was nearly 1 o’clock and I was feeling very hungry.
I went to a nearby vegetarian restaurant, in St. Martin’s Lane. Lunch hours in London were not so crowded those days. I found 3 or 4 people sitting in the room. I sat at a table, and opened the newspaper.
A waitress came and waited for my order. I looked up from the paper, glanced at the menu and told her what I wanted. She said, Thank you’ and went quickly away without making any noise.
At that time my attention turned to a table not far from mine. A young English girl was sitting there. She had been watching me with interested surprise. But when I looked at her, she turned her eyes away. The girl was 13 or 14. From her clothes, I could see that she was poor. Her hair hung in a heavy stream down her neck. She had large eyes. They had a sad expression. I watched her when she was not looking and so she did not notice my watching her. My lunch was brought as she was finishing hers. The waitress brought the bill. Bills are paid at the desk as one goes out. The desk is near the door.
The girl stood up. I again watched her. As she paid the bill, she asked the cashier in a low voice whether I was an Indian. The cashier said she thought so. Then the girl wanted to know if I went there all the time. The cashier said she did not remember me going there before. The girl thanked the cashier, looked at me once more with some kind of surprise and went out.
I was also surprised. Here interest in me aroused my interest in her. When I finished my lunch I asked the waitress if she knew the girl who just finished her lunch and went away. The waitress said she did not know her. But she came to take her lunch there on Saturdays. I wanted to know if she did not come on other days. The waitress said she had never seen her on other days. I wanted to know who she was. The waitress said that she might be a worker in a nearby shop. I wanted to know how she knew that. The waitress then said that Saturday is payday. It is then the girl comes. On other days she couldn’t afford lunch. She does not earn much.
I felt sorry for the poor girl.
My curiosity about the girl persisted. Who was she? Why had she asked about me? Was some mystery the cause of her interest? I continued thinking of her. On Sundays, all London shops are closed. So I would go out to look for her after breakfast on Monday morning.
So I looked into the shops on the streets near St. Martin’s Lane and the shops on the Strand. But I did not see her.
The week passed. Saturday came again. I went to the vegetarian restaurant once more. As I entered I saw her sitting at the same table as before. She was eating.
I took a chair opposite hers and said ‘Good afternoon!’ She greeted me back. Slowly I started a conversation. Finally, she asked me if I was an Indian. I said ‘Yes’. Then she wanted to know if I was a vegetarian. I asked her why she wanted to know that. She said she had heard that most Indians are vegetarians. I wanted to know how she knew things about India. She said her elder brother, a soldier, was in India. I told her that I was not a vegetarian but I enjoyed a vegetarian meal now and then. The girl seemed disappointed by my reply.
I came to know that her only guardian was her elder brother. She lived with her old widowed mother. I asked her if she often heard from her brother. She said they did not have a letter from her brother for a long time. Her mother was worried. People have told her that India was full of tigers, snakes, and fevers. She thinks something has happened to him. The girl wanted to know from me if India was full of tigers, snakes, and fevers.
I told her ‘No’. How^ould people live there if it were full of these things? the girl was happy. She said her mother wanted to ask an Indian to know the truth. From her look, I knew she wanted me to talk with her mother. But she did not have the courage to ask me to go with her to her home. I wanted to see this mother. I had no opportunity to visit a poor English home. I wanted to know how the poor lived there and what they thought.
I told her of my plan to visit her home someday. She was thankful to me. She asked me if I could go with her right there and then. I readily agreed. She wanted to know if such a visit would interfere with my work. I told her I was free, The girl was happy. We finished our lunch and got up together.
On our way to her home I asked her name. She gave her full name: Alice Margaret Clifford. She asked me if it would be difficult for me to walk. I said ‘No’. She said she walked home every day. I wanted to know if she came that way often. She said she did as she works as typist in the Civil Service stores. Every afternoon she goes home that way. Today being Saturday she is going home early.
I asked her if I should call her Miss Clifford or Alice. She said she was not grown up and so I could call her whatever I liked. She laughingly said she was usually called Maggie. I asked her if she was eager to grow up. She said ‘Yes’. I wanted to know why she wanted to grow up fast. She said if she was grown up she would be paid more and her mother was getting old. I wanted to know if she liked her work. She said ‘No’. It is mechanical work. She wanted to have some work that needed her brain. She wanted to be a secretary.
We arrived at Lambeth, an area where poor people lived. She told me that if she became a secretary she would take her mother away from that place. I asked her if her father called her Maggie or Mugsy. She said that when he was very affectionate he called her Magsy. She wanted to know how I knew that. I jokingly told her that Indians know about the future and all kinds of magic. She said she had heard such things said about Indians.
I wanted to know what she had heard. She said she has heard that many Indians have occult (magic) powers and they are called yogis. She thought I was not a yogi.
I asked her the reason for thinking like that. She said yogis don’t eat meat. Then I asked her whether that was the reason for her asking me if I was a vegetarian or not. She did not answer but just smiled.
We reached a narrow doorway. Maggie opened the door with a small key. She invited me in. When I entered, she closed the door. Then she called her mother asking her where she was. The mother said she was in the kitchen below. She asked her to go down into the kitchen. London streets are above ground. Kitchens are often below street level. Maggie asked me if I could go with her. I agreed, and together we went down to the kitchen. She told her mother that an Indian gentleman was there to see her. Maggie introduced me to her mother telling her, “This is Mr. Gupta, mother” and her mother to me.
I said ‘How do you do?’ and held out my hand. The mother said, “Excuse me” and held out her hands for me to see. They were covered with flour. She said that it being Saturday she was making cakes. People would come in the evening to buy them and sell them on the streets. That was the way they made their living. It was a hard life.
Saturday night is the celebration time in the areas where poor people lived. All kinds of things are sold from pushcarts. The streets are more crowded then than on any other day. It is on Saturday the workers receive their pay and so they can spend a little.
All the ingredients for making the cake – flour, sugar, fat, raisins, eggs – were ready on the kitchen table. There were several freshly baked cakes in tins. Mrs. Clifford told me that sitting in such a poor kitchen won’t be pleasant for me. She has almost finished her work. She asked Maggie to take me to the sitting room. She would come soon. I said it was okay with me sitting there. I congratulated her for making such excellent cakes. Mrs. Clifford thanked me.
She asked me what kind of a country India was. I told her it was a beautiful country. She wanted to know if was safe to live there. I said it was. India was not cold like England, but hot. She asked me if India had too many snakes and tigers that killed people. I told her not to believe such things. Snakes and tigers are in the jungles. They get killed if they come to places where people live. Then she wanted to know about fevers. I told her that in some places in India there were more fevers than in other places. It is not the same everywhere and in every season.