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Atres Artes, v. 1, issue 3, 1946

Page 11

ting in the open market, places, or bazaars. And of course, there were the fat, smiling babies, each with his own shining countenance and coat of brown from curly head to wiggling toes.
As I stood there, I recalled a promise to a blind friend of mine back home who wanted so despertly to serve for his country. When we were parting he gripped my hand and said, "Promise me one thing, when you get across and are in some big city over there, just try standing on a street corner with your eyes closed for a while and then write and tell me the impressions you got." So here was my first chance to keep this promise. I leaned against a building and closed my eyes to listen. There was the chant, sad and restrained, of a passerby, the clatter of hoofs, the trundling wheels of the gharri (coach), the sharp crack of the whip, the loud tones of a bar-gainer, intermingled with the patter of bare feet upon the cobbled pavement. From somewhere down the street came the whistled strains of a silly tune. "Pistol Packin' Mama," somewhat off-key, the notes wavering in the wind with subtle uncertainty. Predominant over everything else, came the sound of the chatter, and cries of the children--it was the same in India as everywhere else I had ever been. Youth, with its unquenchable fire and energy, you, with its gaiety and courage, was the keynote and hope of India and of the world.

As I stood there, eyes closed, mentally recording all the sounds on that busy intersections of Karachi, it may have been a whisper or an inflection in the voice of a passerby that warned me of danger, or perhaps I felt it rather than heard it. But I brushed aside this thought, determined to complete my experiment, when at the very mom-ent shrewd schemers were laying thier plans. It didn't occur to me until latter that I might appear ridiculous standing their with my eyes closed. Suddenly the loud yell of a cat and bark of a dog fair-ly split the air. A great desire to open my eyes seized me, but re-membering my promise, I closed them tighter than ever and witnessed the chase only through my ears. A loud deep bay from a dog who must have been the ring leader seemed to call every dog in the neighbor-hood and surrounding territory into action. I gussed the number of dogs that roared, growled, barked, yipped, yapped, bayed, howled, and snarled must have been at least a hundred. The cat must have escaped for the party of dogs broke up as quickly as it had assem-bled.

It was time for me to move on. Imagine my surprise when I looked down into my helmet to find two coins. It was amusing to have been mistaken for a beger. I decided to be surprised at noth-ing after that.

It was fast growing dark and if I was to see anything it was time I stopped playing blind. Sight-seeing in India after dark by a lone visitor, a greenhorn at that, is very inadviseable. I will not attempt to excuse or degrade the participants in the dark crimes of any Easter city. Travelers should be warned against such inci--dents. It is difficult for the American to understand that life in India as in all Eastern countries, is regarded very cheaply. Out of India's 400,000,000 people, one fifth of the world's population, 90% are crowded into small villages. Thus, the average income through high competition, is extremely low, an little money comes into the villages. The average income of an Indian is equal to 4 cents a day in American money. So when money comes to town in the form of an un-wary British or American soldier, carrying an Indian's life's earnings on him, the temptation may be considered too great for many ill fed Indians. Thier philosophy is "food dor ourselves and our child-ern-- morals later!"

I had heard of the dissappearance of a soldier. From what I

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ting in the open market, places, or bazaars. And of course, there were the fat, smiling babies, each with his own shining countenance and coat of brown from curly head to wiggling toes. As I stood there, I recalled a promise to a blind friend of mine back home who wanted so despertly to serve for his country. When we were parting he gripped my hand and said, "Promise me one thing, when you get across and are in some big city over there, just try standing on a street corner with your eyes closed for a while and then write and tell me the impressions you got." So here was my first chance to keep this promise. I leaned against a building and closed my eyes to listen. There was the chant, sad and restrained, of a passerby, the clatter of hoofs, the trundling wheels of the gharri (coach), the sharp crack of the whip, the loud tones of a bar-gainer, intermingled with the patter of bare feet upon the cobbled pavement. From somewhere down the street came the whistled strains of a silly tune. "Pistol Packin' Mama," somewhat off-key, the notes wavering in the wind with subtle uncertainty. Predominant over everything else, came the sound of the chatter, and cries of the children--it was the same in India as everywhere else I had ever been. Youth, with its unquenchable fire and energy, you, with its gaiety and courage, was the keynote and hope of India and of the world. As I stood there, eyes closed, mentally recording all the sounds on that busy intersections of Karachi, it may have been a whisper or an inflection in the voice of a passerby that warned me of danger, or perhaps I felt it rather than heard it. But I brushed aside this thought, determined to complete my experiment, when at the very mom-ent shrewd schemers were laying thier plans. It didn't occur to me until latter that I might appear ridiculous standing their with my eyes closed. Suddenly the loud yell of a cat and bark of a dog fair-ly split the air. A great desire to open my eyes seized me, but re-membering my promise, I closed them tighter than ever and witnessed the chase only through my ears. A loud deep bay from a dog who must have been the ring leader seemed to call every dog in the neighbor-hood and surrounding territory into action. I gussed the number of dogs that roared, growled, barked, yipped, yapped, bayed, howled, and snarled must have been at least a hundred. The cat must have escaped for the party of dogs broke up as quickly as it had assem-bled. It was time for me to move on. Imagine my surprise when I looked down into my helmet to find two coins. It was amusing to have been mistaken for a beger. I decided to be surprised at noth-ing after that. It was fast growing dark and if I was to see anything it was time I stopped playing blind. Sight-seeing in India after dark by a lone visitor, a greenhorn at that, is very inadviseable. I will not attempt to excuse or degrade the participants in the dark crimes of any Easter city. Travelers should be warned against such inci--dents. It is difficult for the American to understand that life in India as in all Eastern countries, is regarded very cheaply. Out of India's 400,000,000 people, one fifth of the world's population, 90% are crowded into small villages. Thus, the average income through high competition, is extremely low, an little money comes into the villages. The average income of an Indian is equal to 4 cents a day in American money. So when money comes to town in the form of an un-wary British or American soldier, carrying an Indian's life's earnings on him, the temptation may be considered too great for many ill fed Indians. Thier philosophy is "food dor ourselves and our child-ern-- morals later!" I had heard of the dissappearance of a soldier. From what I