I told you so

What had happened was pretty unfortunate. Nobody could have suspected Rashid to show that violent streak, nobody. It must have been the heat, some
opined later. Others, having a more psychological bent, discussed away some hypothesis about both the aggresor’s and the victim’s mental states,
eating away at non facts with their razor sharp reasons till the results checked with their surmise. All in all, though the dead body did afford a minor
distraction, the lot was happy , jovial too , with their sharp detective skills on display. ” I told you so” seemed to be the catch phrase everywhere until
a person outside the group heard it and decided to bring the whole group around to his point of view, at the end of which a different person would now
pull up his sleeves, straighten his tie and say ” I told you so”. If not for their wives waiting at home, some with loving eyes, others with disapproval and
still others with that burning rage, this process could have gone on forever. And ofcourse also because now Rashid, who had been sitting on a corner, unspeaking
, stood up with some effort and spoke. ” See? I told you”, someone shouted from one of the groups nearest him.
“Is he dead”, asked Rashid, just with a little hope that maybe a hundred people had been mistaken in judging the extent of injury.
” I told you so”, the man next to Rashid spoke. ” I told you he was dead the moment you hit him on the head”.
Ah! What a victory, surely he and his woman would be out for a fancy dinner tonight?
“Yes, yes you did. But now, yes, I know you said it too”, he waved a hand at a man about to jump on the I told you so bandwagon, “now, you must tell me,
not the problem, which I think is pretty clear to everyone with their eyes open, but a solution”
“Ah! Yes! the solution!” the all echoed together, and started to split away into groups again.
“Wait, the lot of you! Wait! Do not group thus!”
“Sir, it was his fault, not your’s.”
” His life does not matter your’s does”
“You could leave the dead body in the dustbin”
The noise had reached fever pitch, what with all the questions, their answers, men trying to assuage Rashid’s guilt all speaking together with raised voices
to make sure their exceedingly important and brilliantly deduced answer was well heard and accepted.
“Rashid, Rashid!”
RASHID.
Oh! Everyone knew that voice! The mistress!
“Shut up you morons! Our mistress is here, make way make way!”
Rashid’s wife walked into the jam packed room and made towards him, on the way kicking at some rowdy men who tried to touch her skirt or even paw at her neatly
sewed top. These uncouth men, she thought, its a wonder the factory even produces anything at all. All bloody drunkards and boors of first rate.
” Here, Kim, here, make way for the lady make way for her!”, ordered Rashid to a man who seemed to be of quite some importance, somebody like a union leader.
” Did you kill the rat?”, asked Farida.
“Yes, darling, I did”, said a triumphant Rashid.
“Poor thing. Death to the rats. What a victory”, some one chided in from the crowd.
“What the hell are you people doing here then? Hundred men to kill one rat?”
“No, no Farida! I killed it myself, with my bare hands. These men, well, we men, were just discussing the morality of it”
” And the mental state in which you did it, and the mental state of the rat right before it died”
” And the emotional response of those who saw the death!”
” And its effect on the workforce of the factory, the output.”
“Not to mention, the effect it would have on the political setup of the country”
” And on our children”
“But your children arent even here!”
“Genetic trauma”
“GO BACK TO YOUR STATIONS!”, shouted a half mad Farida.
” I want no less than ten thousand of those skirts you make by tomorrow evening. Back to your sewing machines you bunch of morons!”
The hundred workers, with damped spirits, made for their stations. Some said it was a pity that women did not understand the important matters in the world.
“Frank, they do make it seem like a trifle less important, but believe me you, we men must not relent! Look at how she dismissed us all, like beggars! Who would
have thought our very own mistress! Our sweet darling, our very own!”. To which Frank replied,
” I told you she would! I told you so!”