The following poem was written on April 1947 by a district officer (British) in Bareilly faced with the prospect of a religious riot. This is how it goes:
“Just listen to the handicaps
I have to labour under, chaps!
Whene’er there’s trouble in the offing
I seem to get attacks of coughing.
If there’s a riot in my area,
Why then I’m sure to get malaria;
And when some Muslim seeks the blood
Of Hindus all because some sod
Has gone and tweaked the old boy’s beaver
I’m sure to get a bout of fever;
And when there’s stabbing in the city
I get such pains in my dicky;
No sooner Night resounds with howls,
I get a gripping in my bowels.”