The Mammoth Book of Apocalyptic SF - Mike Ashley [9]
"Well, what if it happens?" Kanchi demanded, and Mitthu replied, just as firmly: "No, it won't."
"Let's eat rice now, Didi," Kanchi said anxiously, as the sky began to darken for a light rain. The end of the world was supposed to happen at 11 a.m., and Kanchi wanted to deal with the event on a full stomach. "We might be hungry later."
"Is this for your body or your soul?" asked Mitthu as she ladled some rice on to a plate for Kanchi. She had an acerbic tongue.
"A soul will fly away like a small bird. It'll fly away when it becomes hungry and go and steal from some other people's homes. It's my stomach that will kill me."
"And is your shawl to keep you warm in heaven or hell?" Mitthu inquired as she dropped a pinch of spicy tomato acchar on to the rice.
"I won't need this shawl in heaven or hell. This is if I survive and there is nobody else on this earth but me. At least I will have my shawl to keep me warm."
Mitthu, even though she would not acknowledge it, recognized this admirable foresight and common sense. "Humph," she said, turning away to steal a glance at the sun, which did look rather bright. She wondered if she should run in and get a shawl as well, just in case, then decided her pride was more important.
A rumble of thunder rolled across the clear blue sky, and Kanchi stood up in a panic. "What a darcheruwa I am, I have no guts," she scolded herself.
"Eat, Kanchi," said Mitthu, rattling the rice ladle over the pot, annoyed at her own fright.
"I saw Shanta Bajai storming off to the office this morning. She said she would go to the office even if nobody else came, and she would die in her chair if she had to."
"So why is the world going to end?" asks Mitthu cautiously. She did not believe it was going to happen. At the same time, she was curious.
"It's all because of Girija," explained Kanchi. "It all started happening ever since he became the Prime Minister. Ever since he started going off to America day after day. I heard he fainted and fell on the ground, and the king of America gave him money for medicine. So this destruction is happening since he returned. Maybe the American king gave him money and he sold Nepal, maybe that's why. And now maybe the Communists will take over."
"You know, Kanchi, I almost became a Communist when I was in the village. It sounded good. We would all have to live together, and work together, and there would be no divisions between big or small. Then we could kill all the rich people and there would be peace."
"And what about eating?" asks Kanchi. "You would also have to eat together, out of the same plate, with everybody else. How would that suit you, you Bahuni? You who won't even eat your food if you suspect somebody has looked at it?" Mitthu, who was a fastidious Brahmin and refused to let people who she suspected of eating buffalo meat into her kitchen, realized she had overlooked this point.
"And then they make you work until you drop dead," said Kanchi. "Don't tell me I didn't think about it. I would rather live like this, where at least I can have my son by me at night. I heard the Communists take away your children and make you work in different places. And then they give you work that you cannot fulfill, and if you do not do it, they kill you - dongl - with one bullet. What's the point of living then?"
"Well ..." Mitthu does not want to give up her sympathies so easily. Besides, her husband had died when she was nine. As a lifelong child widow she had no reason to worry about being separated from her children. "Well, we'll see it when it happens, won't we?"
"Like the end of the world," said Kanchi, checking out the sky. "I heard that they have taken the big Sadhu who predicted the end of the world and put him in the jail in Hanuman Dhoka. He has said that they can hang him if it doesn't happen. Then some people say that he was performing a Shanti Horn and the fire rose so high he was burnt and had to be taken to the hospital. Who can tell what