1983年，英迪拉·甘地在新德里的住所，次年她便在此遇害。摄影：Reginald Davis/Rex婆婆去隔壁楼的办公室上班后，我回到自己的房间。正准备洗澡时，听到一连串爆炸声，听起来像鞭炮，又不太一样。我僵住了。有人疯狂地拍打我的浴室门。是孩子们的保姆翁姆，歇斯底里地哭喊着。我猛地拉开门，心跳如鼓。她对着花园疯狂比划，说不出话来。
Indira Gandhi in 1983, at the New Delhi home where she would be killed the following year. Photograph: Reginald Davis/Rex return to my room as my mother-in-law leaves for her office in the building adjacent to our home. I am about to start my bath when I hear a series of explosions, as of firecrackers, but different. I freeze. Someone comes pounding frantically on my bathroom door. It is Ongmu, the children’s nanny, crying hysterically. I fling open the door, my heart thumping. She is gesticulating wildly, speechlessly, towards the garden.
我沿着通往阿克巴路的小径奔去。看见那辆白色的“安倍德”轿车正缓缓驶向同一条小径。我犹豫了，停下脚步，心提到了嗓子眼。恐惧、惊慌、害怕。我感到窒息，喘不上气，快要瘫倒了。不，不，我不能。我必须走到车跟前。我看见她被抬进车里。我明白了；我尖叫起来。
I run along the path leading to Akbar Road. I see the white Ambassador car slowly moving towards the same path. I hesitate. I stop, heart in my mouth. Dread, panic, fear. I feel suffocated. I can’t breathe. I am about to collapse. No, no, I can’t. I have to walk to the car. I see her being carried into it. I understand; I scream.
我现在在车里，蜷伏在地板上，面对着她……血——她的纱丽上全是血，胸口全是血。她大大的眼睛睁得圆圆的，脸上露出惊讶的神情。她一动不动。我试图跟她说话，想喊“妈妈，妈妈”，却发不出声音。我再试一次；她没有回应。
I’m in the car now, crouching on the floor, facing her … Blood – blood on her sari, blood on her chest. Her large eyes are wide open; her face wears a surprised expression. She doesn’t move. I attempt to speak to her, to call out, “Mummy, Mummy”, but no word comes out. I try again; she doesn’t reply.
她的助手们在车前座尖叫着。车流沉重缓慢，车子几乎动弹不得，也没有警笛。一个红灯，又一个红灯。然后到了医院。大门不开。一片混乱。我们被拦下；有人透过车窗疑惑地张望。他们让我们进去了。
Her aides are in the front of the car, screaming. Heavy, slow traffic, the car barely moves, it has no siren. One red light, then another. Then the hospital. The gate isn’t opening. Chaos. We are stopped; someone looks through the window in a questioning attitude. They let us in.
我们到达急诊科，人满为患。我们又被拦住，不让进，得等候轮到我们。有人对着司机喊话，示意他开前去。他们认出了我们；她被放上担架。我们被领到某处——手术室？他们让我跟上。我被带到附近的一个房间。不，不，我要留在她身边，我坚持。我要知道情况。我非看不可。他们不回答；他们全神贯注于紧急抢救程序。
We reach the emergency department, teeming with people. We are stopped again, not allowed in, we have to wait for our turn. Someone calls out to the driver, signals him to move forward. They identify us; she is placed on a trolley. We are led somewhere – an operation theatre? They ask me to follow. I’m taken to a room nearby. No, no, I want to stay by her, I insist. I want to know. I have to see. They don’t reply; they are immersed in their emergency procedures.
我感到困惑、迷失……我认不出那里的任何人。我穿着晨衣在发抖。我感到害怕，思绪翻腾。拉吉夫在哪里？我试着回忆。我想不起来，我想不起来。孩子们，对，他们在学校；必须把他们接回家。哦，天哪，不，不要。让他们平安，让拉吉夫平安……我该告诉谁，我该和谁说？我感觉到房间里有一个人。我不知道那是谁。我试着开口，想要拼凑出一些话；什么也说不出来。“她的衣服上全是血，”有人说。有人给我拿来了衣服。在附近的一个小隔间里，有人帮我穿上。
I feel confused, lost … I don’t recognise anyone there. I’m shivering under my dressing gown. I feel scared, my mind is racing. Where is Rajiv? I try to remember. I can’t, I can’t. The children, yes, they’re in school; they must be brought home. Oh God, no, no. Let them be safe, let Rajiv be safe … Whom do I tell, whom do I speak to? I sense someone in the room. I don’t know who it is. I try to speak, to put some words together; nothing comes out. “There’s blood all over her clothes,” someone says. Some clothes are brought in for me. I am helped into them in a nearby closet.
几个小时过去了，痛苦煎熬的几个小时。更多人走进来，围在身边。我向医生示意问了一个问题；他摇了摇头。我明白了，是的，我明白了。我无法控制地失声痛哭。有人试图安抚我。我感到麻木、冰冷。
Hours go by, agonising hours. More people come in and crowd around. I signal a question to the doctor; he shakes his head. I understand, yes, I understand. I break into sobs, uncontrollably. Someone tries to calm me. I feel numb, cold.
1984年10月31日下午两点，英迪拉·甘地被宣布死亡。我被开车送回家，去取一些衣服给她的遗体换上。路上，一群男子试图拦截我们的车，猛敲车窗。他们很愤怒，喊着我听不懂的话。
t two in the afternoon of 31 October 1984, Indira Gandhi was declared dead. I was driven home to collect some clothes for her body to be changed into. On the way, a group of men tried to stop our car, banging on its windows. They were angry, shouting something I couldn’t understand.
回到家里，孩子们拉胡尔和普里扬卡满眼泪水扑进我的怀里。他们被穿黑色制服的突击队员突然从学校接走时，就已预感到了灾难。一到家，他们看到一些工作人员在抽泣。他们接连不断地问问题。“妈妈在哪里？”“为什么带我们回家？”“爸爸在哪里？”“发生了什么？”“奶奶在哪里？”“你们没有告诉我们真相！”我的朋友尼娜和斯特雷一直陪着他们，试图安抚他们，却不知道该对他们说什么。
At home, the children, Rahul and Priyanka, rushed to my arms in tears. When they had been abruptly picked up from school by black-uniformed commandos, they sensed a catastrophe. Once home, they saw some of the staff sobbing. They asked question after question. “Where’s Mama?”“Why have we been brought home?”“Where’s Papa?”“What’s happened?”“Where’s Dadi?”“You aren’t telling us the truth!”My friends Nina and Sterre had been with them, trying to calm them down, not knowing what to say to them.
我想和他们坐在一起，拥抱他们，温和地把消息告诉他们，但我做不到——我必须回去；拉吉夫正在来医院的路上。
I wanted to sit with them and hug them, to break the news to them gently, but I was unable to – I had to go back; Rajiv was coming to the hospital.
拉吉夫当时正在西孟加拉邦参加一场政治集会，他的车队被一辆警车拦下。他被告知有来自德里的消息，让他立即赶回——发生了一起严重事故。他被送往直升机停机坪，从那里飞往加尔各答，再转飞德里。他在BBC新闻中听到英迪拉·甘地受伤，情况危急。没有人直接告诉他母亲已经去世，但他明白了。
Rajiv had been in West Bengal at a political rally when his cavalcade was stopped by a police patrol. He was told there was a message from Delhi to say he should rush back – a serious accident had taken place. He was driven to the helipad, from where he flew to Calcutta and then to Delhi. He’d heard on a BBC bulletin that Mrs Gandhi was wounded and in a grave condition. Nobody told him directly that his mother was no more, but he understood.
他于下午3点30分抵达，被直接送往医院。他和其他人一起走进去，我记得当时多么渴望能单独和他在一起哪怕片刻。我们相拥而泣，当他对我说话时，我意识到他在说一些我不愿听到的话。“我被要求……他们要我宣誓就任总理。” 1984年12月，在母亲去世四个月后，索尼娅·甘地为丈夫拉吉夫助选。
He landed at 3.30pm and was driven straight to the hospital. He walked in with other people, and I remember longing to be left alone with him for a moment at least. We held each other, and as he spoke to me, it sunk in that he was saying something I didn’t want to hear. “I have been asked … They want me to be sworn in as prime minister.”Sonia Gandhi campaigning for her husband Rajiv in December 1984, four months after his mother’s death.
我仿佛觉得一把刀直插心口。我感到胸口剧烈跳动，一股怒火从深处涌起。我快要爆发了。我试图压抑住。“你们被要求？他们凭什么要求？他们凭什么？他们是谁？为什么是你，为什么非得是你？你为什么允许他们要求你？不，不可能；这一次绝不会！”我被极度的痛苦和悲愤吞噬，浑身大汗淋漓，感到一阵恶心。我想尖叫，想呼救。“求求有人帮帮我，结束这一切吧。”
I felt as if a knife had been plunged right into my heart. I felt a pounding in my chest, a rage welling up deep inside me. I was about to explode. I attempted to hold it in. “You have been asked to? How dare they ask? How dare they? Who are they? Why you, why does it have to be you? Why did you allow them to ask you? No, it cannot be; this time it’s not going to be!”Seized by utter pain and anguish, soaked in perspiration, I felt like throwing up. I wanted to scream, to ask for help. “Someone please help me put an end to this.”
我放声大哭，哀求、乞求，双手合十恳求他：“不，不，你不能这么想。你必须阻止他们，你必须拒绝，你必须说不——为了孩子们，为了你自己。你不能这样对待我们。他们会杀了你；他们也会杀了你！”我喊道。他回答：“他们反正会杀了我。”我们把岳母接回家。餐厅已被腾空，我们按印度教习俗将她的遗体放在地板上，脚朝南。
I burst out crying, pleading, begging him with folded hands, “No, no, you can’t think of it. You have to stop them, you must refuse, you must say no – for the children’s sake, for yourself. You can’t do this to us. They will kill you; they will kill you, too!”I cried out. He replied, “They will kill me anyway.”We brought my mother-in-law home. The dining room had been emptied out, and we laid her body down on the floor, her feet pointing south as Hindu custom decrees.
就在当晚下午6点30分左右，拉吉夫宣誓就任印度总理。我崩溃得甚至无法理会周围发生的一切。他的母亲躺在那里，身上穿透了30多个弹孔。我知道，我当时在心里就知道了：拉吉夫的道路将通向同样的结局。
The same evening at around 6.30pm, Rajiv was sworn in as prime minister of India I was too broken to even what was happening around me. His mother lay there, her body pierced with more than 30 bullet holes. I knew, I knew it then in my heart: Rajiv’s path would lead to the same end.