Half a Life_ A Novel - V. S. Naipaul [46]
Willie thought, “It's something I have learned since I came here. Everything goes on a bias. The world should stop, but it goes on.”
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A Second Translation
IT OCCURRED TO WILLIE one day that he hadn't seen Percy Cato at the college for some time. When he asked around he heard that Percy had packed his bags and left the college without telling anyone. No one could say where Percy was, but a story was that he had left London and gone back to Panama. Willie was forlorn at the news. It was as though—especially after the riots in Notting Hill—all the early part of his life in London was now lost. Percy had said that he was worried about his name appearing in the papers. But though the papers wrote a lot for some weeks about property racketeers in Notting Hill, they didn't seem to know about Percy; and Willie felt that Percy had decided to leave London because in his usual wise way he had had an inkling of something more terrible to come. Willie felt left behind and exposed. The savour went out of his London life, and he began to wonder, as he had done at the very beginning, where he was going.
His sister, Sarojini, wrote from Germany. Willie didn't want to open the envelope. He remembered, with shame, how it would have excited him at home, at the ashram or the mission school, to see a German or any foreign postage stamp on a letter. The design of the stamp would have set him dreaming of the country, and he would have thought the sender of the letter blessed.
Dear Willie, I wonder if you know what worry you're giving us. You do not write and we have no idea what you are doing. Can you take a degree at this college where you are, and will that degree get you a job? You have the example of your father before you, and if you aren't careful you will become an idler like him. Things work like that in families.
Willie thought, “I used to worry about this girl. I didn't think she had a chance, and I would have done anything to help her become a happy woman. Then this old German man comes along and ugly little Sarojini changes. She becomes the complete married woman, as though that woman was there all along. She has become just like my mother. I feel as if all my worry and love has been mocked. I am not sure I like this Sarojini.”
Wolf and I are about to go to Cuba and other places. Wolf has talked to me a lot about revolutionary ideas. He is like our mother's uncle, but of course he has had more opportunities and is better educated, and of course he has seen much more of the world than our poor uncle. I wish you could take after that side of the family, and then you will see how much there is to do in our world, and how you are selfishly wasting your life in London doing this little thing and that little thing and not knowing why you are doing anything. Wolf and I are in Germany for a few weeks. Wolf has film people and government people to see here. When things settle down I will come to London for a few days to see you.
Willie thought, “Please don't come, Sarojini. Please don't come.”
But in due course she came, and for three or four days she turned his life upside down. She stayed in a small hotel near the college—she had arranged that herself, before she left Germany—and she came every day to Willie's college room and prepared a rough little meal. She asked for his help in nothing. She bought cheap new pots and pans and knives and spoons, found out about greengrocers, came in every day with fresh vegetables, and cooked things on the little electric heater in Willie's room.