Khushwant was as frank in labeling his malice as he was about copious descriptions of his and other people's nether parts, or his watching various women in various stages of undressing, or worse. A good deal of it is simply provoking by a puck, if one is provoked he has victory and if not he is willing to go to lower levels of disgusting.
But honest or real journalist he was not and if he heard would probably say he did not claim it, and was frank he merely gossiped on strength of his familiarity with so called high society. In this too however, he is as circumspect as any social climber, unlike Tavleen Singh who managed to maintain decency and courage and journalistic ethos and more.
When emergency was declared in mid seventies Khushwant Singh couldn't stop praising not only the then newly dictator but also her younger son and his very young wife, Maneka Anand who was a new addition to the Nehru dynasty of Indira Gandhi family. That this praise might render him slightly ridiculous seems to have bothered him far less than a possible incarceration like others of the time who were honest in disapproval of the times and political measures.
In the series of books with malice in titles where various pieces of gossip about society are collected, there is at least one piece about the finale of the chapter of the young couple, Sanjay and Maneka. This was written post Sanjay's death and he was eyewitness to the events as they unfolded around the exit of Maneka from the home of her mother in law where she had arrived as a bride and lived until then.
There are others who wrote or spoke about it. Pupul Jayakar mentions the event in her biography of Indira Gandhi and it is a very open, honest account of the conversation the two friends had. Maneka herself speaks of this and of her married life until then, in a conversation with the ever elegant Simi Garewal. But this account by Khushwant Singh is notable for a flavour missing from other accounts.
By any standard applicable to the situation, this exit of a poor young woman who had been made to sign away any and every right to share of property due to her husband as a condition to her staying in the home with her son, was a despicable act on part of the in-laws. Both Pupul Jayakar and Maneka herself exculpate the mother in law who was fragile with the loss of support of the younger son that was her chief support at family and in politics, and was dependent on the elder son who never wanted politics and had a wife who was supposedly against it all, their friends all either western or high society or both. Indira Gandhi is quoted by Pupul Jayakar as saying, what could she do, she needed her son. Maneka puts the blame squarely on her sole sister in law for having her thrown out of the home where the two women had an equal right morally, traditionally, and in every other way possible.
Khushwant Singh cannot deny any of it, but would rather play it safe, and most people in the situation remain silent as the party did. Not he - he has an extra point to prove, to claim that in spite of sharing a communal tie and of his having specialised as an academic by translating religious texts of his faith, he was not exactly on side of the young woman thrown out penniless from her marital home.
So he resorts to gossipy account of how she did not go quietly, how she let loose verbally and insisted on having dinner before leaving. All to indicate that she was not pathetic but a fighter, and to perhaps
allow a reader to speculate that her character was unpleasant and was responsible for her losing family, rights to property, et al. Total bs of course.
One wonders if he needed to cover up so strenuously only because he was of the same community that Maneka belonged to, or was he afraid he would be targeted by the elder sister in law and mafia to boot, or was it worse? Who knows.
It is always easy to blame a victim, especially a young widow who has signed away her rights to share of wealth, and has a small son to bring up to boot. She is expected to beg and placate others, with the one in power at marital home in position of making her a social outcast.
One expects better of those supposedly brought up in high society with a decent education, however. In this respect as probably in all others the three women - Pupul Jayakar, Simi Garewal and Tavleen Singh - fare far above.
Perhaps courage is a feminine virtue after all.
