The Complete Short Stories Page 9

  Doctor Sahib was surprised and asked, ‘How do you manage within this?’

  ‘Very easily. I wear clothes like they do, eat food like they do and I suffer from no vices. Here, twenty rupees a month is spent on medicines which are distributed among the poor. This amount is taken out from the joint earnings and no one has any objection to it. The bicycle that you can see has been bought from this common pool of funds. Whoever needs it uses it. They consider me more efficient and trust me completely. I am only their chief. Whatever advice I give is followed by them. Nobody here thinks himself subordinate to another. All of us consider ourselves to be shareholders and work hard to the best of our abilities. Wherever one is a master and the other a slave, immediately there is antagonism between them. A master wants to extract as much work as possible from a servant. The servant wants to work as little as possible and has no concern or sympathy for him. Both of them are actually antagonists. We have already been witness to the ill-effects of such antagonism. People of different dispositions have formed separate groups and there is a terrible feud among them. The signs of the future indicate that this conflict will last only for a short while. It will be replaced by cooperatives. In other countries I have seen the dangerous consequences of this conflict and I hate it. Only cooperation can liberate us from this misfortune.’

  ‘You mean to say that you are a “socialist”.’

  ‘No, I am neither a “socialist” nor a “democrat”. I am just a humble servant of justice and social responsibility. I consider selfless service far better than education. I don’t want the power of my mind, soul and intellect to be in servitude to money and wealth. I have no faith in modern education and culture. The purpose of education is evolution of the self, generosity, sacrifice, goodwill, empathy, justice and kindness. The education that trains us to exploit the helpless makes us slaves to material wealth, submerges us in sensuous pleasures, and produces a desire to suck the blood of others is no education at all. If fools get trapped in greed and delusion, they can be pardoned. But, for the disciples of knowledge and culture, self-centeredness is extremely shameful. We have made knowledge and intelligence a pathway to reach the pinnacle of power and glory. Ideally, it should have been a means to care and compassion. How strange it is that the more learned a person is, the more selfish he is! Our knowledge and intellect, enthusiasm and passion are all overtaken by our desire for wealth. If our professors earn less than a thousand, they are unhappy. Despite earning a salary of more than two thousand, our ministers and revenue officials curse their fates. Doctors want no compromise with their fees whether their patients live or die and our lawyers—excuse me!—pray to God for a spurt in jealousy and hostility among people so that they can build a fortune out of it. We take “Time is wealth” as God’s word. Each of these so-called great men snatch away the livelihoods of hundreds and thousands or may be even lakhs of people. Despite this, they claim to be the saviours of this class. They proclaim their love for their community. Let others toil and sweat; they enjoy good food and twirl their moustaches in smugness. I consider the entire educated class not only worthless but also destructive.’

  Doctor Sahib kept his patience and asked, ‘So you want us to slog as labourers?’

  Premshankar replied, ‘Not at all, though if this ever happens it would be the greatest blessing for mankind. I have an objection only against the conditions that lead to such unfair disparity. If a labourer can survive on five rupees, for a person doing mental work, a salary thrice this should be good enough, and this excess is only to cater to his need for better food, clothes, and other luxuries of life. But why should there be an unwarranted difference in wages as in five and five thousand, fifty and fifty thousand? Not only this, our society will never condemn the huge disparity between five and five lakh, but only extol this as a virtue. Administration, law, medicine, art, education, commission, trade, music, and hundreds of other similar practices have become the vocation of the educated class. But none of these can generate income on their own; these can only flourish at the expense of others. I fail to understand why small industries that produce life-sustaining commodities should be considered inferior to those professions that offer mere entertainment or at the most aid in generating money. Today, if all the advocates are turned out of the country, the executive class disappears, all the commission agents go to meet their Maker, life will continue as usual, in fact, more smoothly. Farmers will till the land, weavers will weave cloth, carpenters, blacksmiths, masons, cobblers, and all the tradesmen will ply their trades as usual. Their panchayats will decide their quarrels. But if farmers go away, the whole world will die of hunger. If a farmer is paid five rupees, it is taken to be a big sum, but for a doctor or an advocate, even five thousand is less.’

  ‘You seem to forget the important principle of economics known as the theory of division of labour. Nature has bestowed creatures with different capabilities and different conditions are needed for their growth and development.’

  ‘Did I ever say that each one of us should be forced to do manual labour? No, I didn’t. Those blessed with intellect and reason should interpret the shastras. Someone who is sensitive should compose poems. One who hates injustice should practise law. What I mean to say is that there should not be so huge a difference in the prestige accorded to other occupations. It is unjust to have such disparity between a white collar job and physical labour. It goes against the law of nature that unimportant and non-essential work should take precedence over more important and essential ones. Some gentlemen believe that this fairness will discount worthy people and the world would be poorer by being deprived of their good deeds and thoughts. What they lose sight of is that the greatest scholars, poets, inventors, teachers were free from any aspiration for opulence and power. One of the ill effects of our fake life is also that we perforce become poets or teachers. As a result, we have innumerable writers and poets, lawyers and teachers in this world. All of them are like burdens on this earth. It’s only when they realize that these divine faculties promise no gains, only those who actually want to be poets will become poets. In brief, I just have to say that the importance of money has completely disturbed the balance in society.’

  Doctor Sahib was now impatient and said, ‘Mister, this kind of social system may be suitable for the heavens above, but it is just not relevant for this material world.’

  Premshankar replied, ‘This is how the power of the affluent, the landlords and the educated class is maintained. But even before this, power centres have suffered a big blow. Signs indicate that in the near future they shall taste defeat again. Perhaps this defeat shall be the defining moment. The social cycle begins in equality and ends in equality. Sole proprietorship, sovereignty of the rich, the power of trade and commerce are at its core. The present cycle has reached this median point and is now moving towards its destination. But we are so intoxicated by power and authority that we fail to see what stands before us. We can hear the deafening call of democracy but we are convinced that it is only an ordinary thunder of clouds. We are still engrossed in that knowledge and those arts which depend on others’ hard work. Educational institutions are flourishing, our courts are crammed, every nook and corner has a photo studio, doctors outnumber patients, but our eyes are still closed. We don’t venture out of this artificial lifestyle, the allure of this culture. We set up industries in cities to make us fat and obese on workers’ earnings. We are jubilant to extract a profit of thirty rupees and forty rupees per hundred. We have never come across any educated person who has ever taken up weaving cloth or ploughing land. Unfortunately, if someone does it, he is made fun of. We consider only those people worthy of our honour and respect who lounge comfortably without having to move their limbs and prosper as moneylenders and usurers by earning interest in lakhs.’

  These were the topics of conversation when Durga the gardener came up with a basket of cauliflower, guavas, green peas and oranges, all neatly arranged, and placed it before Doctor Sahib. He looked so self-assured
as though his soul had awakened. He came and sat near Doctor Sahib and asked, ‘Huzoor! What kind of cuttings do you want? Please give their names to Babuji on a piece of paper. I will deliver them to your place by tomorrow. I hope your children are fine!’

  Doctor Sahib was a trifle embarrassed and replied, ‘Yes, my boys are okay. How are you?’

  ‘With your blessings I am happy here.’

  When Doctor Sahib finally got up to leave, Premshankar went to the gate to see him off. As Doctor Sahib sat in the car, he smiled and said, ‘I may not have been convinced of your principles, but there is no doubt at all that you made a man out of a beast. It is the impact of your good company. But excuse me if I say that you should still be careful of him. Eugenics has not devised a mechanism as yet that can change the sanskars inherited by birth!’

  Translated from the Hindi by Madhu Singh

  The Prime Dharma of Man

  It was Holi. A devotee of laddus and lover of rasgullas, Pandit Moteram Shastri sat on the broken bed in his courtyard with his head bent, a picture of worry and grief. His wife sat close by, looking at him with true empathy, and tried to extinguish his burning anxieties in dulcet tones.

  After sitting for a long time, drowning in his sorrows, he said lifelessly, ‘God alone knows where my damn fate is lying dead. It hasn’t woken even on Holi.’

  Moteram’s wife retorted, ‘Bad times have fallen upon us. Ever since you instructed me to, I have been asking the Sun God for a boon so that you get an invite. I’ve been praying night and day, while offering holy water and lighting hundreds of tulsi lamps, but that has all been in vain. When you are in dire straits, nothing, no one, helps.’

  ‘Oh, that’s all nothing, these gods and goddesses are for name’s sake only. If only they would help us when we need them, I would believe they exist. When all is well, there is no dearth of freeloaders.’

  ‘Is there not a single good soul left in this entire city? Are they all dead or what?’

  ‘Dead and rotting. The five to ten who do survive come alive just once or twice a year. And they too, when they can gather the courage, might, at best, feed you a rupee’s worth of sweetmeats. If I had my way, I would send them all to the Kaala Paani prison; this is entirely the influence of all this Arya Samaj business.’

  ‘You also keep sitting in the house only. In today’s world there are no such generous souls who will send you an invite to feed you at your doorstep for free. Once in a while you have to use your tongue.’

  ‘How do you know that I haven’t? Is there any rich man in this city I haven’t visited and blessed? But who the bloody hell listens to me? Everyone is busy doing their own thing.’

  Just then Pandit Chintamani arrived. He was Moteram’s closest friend. Certainly, he was younger and in keeping with that, his belly, too, was not as magnificent.

  Moteram asked, ‘So, friend! Any news? Has there been any breakthrough?’

  Chintamani replied, ‘Breakthrough, my foot! No such luck any more.’

  ‘Coming from home itself?’

  ‘Brother, I will take sanyas. If this life has nothing good to offer, then why not quit? Now you tell me, if on a day like this one doesn’t get something worthwhile, then what’s the point of living?’

  ‘Yes, that is very true.’

  ‘So, you won’t be able to do anything? Tell me clearly and I will renounce the world.’

  ‘No, no, don’t worry, friend. Don’t you know, without dying you can’t reach heaven? You can’t enjoy goodies without hard penance and so I suggest let us go this very minute to the banks of the Ganga and deliver a lecture there . . . who knows, some kind soul may get the message.’

  ‘Yes, that’s a good idea. Let’s go.’

  When the gentlemen got up and went towards the banks of the Ganga, it was dawn. Thousands of people were bathing there. Some were chanting prayers. Many were seated on the stools of the pandas getting tilak on their foreheads. A few were even returning home in their wet dhotis.

  Seeing both the priests, calls of ‘Namaskar’, ‘Pranam’ and ‘Paon lagan’ filled the air. Answering these salutations, both friends reached the banks of the Ganga and started their bathing rituals. After that they sat on the chowki of a panda and started singing bhajans. This curious event attracted hundreds of utterly amazed people around them. When the strength of the audience reached about several hundred, Moteram said solemnly, ‘Gentlemen, as you know, when Brahma created this Universe, he produced Brahmins from his mouth. Anyone here who doubts this?’

  The audience chorused, ‘No, respected sir, you always speak the truth. Who can challenge you?’

  ‘So then it’s agreed that Brahmins emanated from the mouth of Brahma. That’s why the mouth is the most important human organ. Hence, to please the mouth is every man’s prime dharma. Is it not so? Is there anyone who disputes me? Come forward. I can give evidence from the shastras.’

  ‘Sir, you are a learned man. Who can dare to contest you?’

  ‘Well then, now that it’s clear that pleasing the mouth is every person’s prime task, would it be wrong to say that those who shirk the mouth are bound to suffer ? Is there anyone to contest this view?’

  ‘Sir, you are great, you are an expert in the Nyaya Shastra.’1

  ‘Now the question is, how can one please the mouth? I would say it’s each according to his ability and piety. There are many ways—sing praises of the gods, pray to the lord, attend satsangs, and don’t speak harsh words. All these measures will please the mouth. If you see someone in distress, soothe him. All these will no doubt please the mouth, but there is a better method, in fact, the best and the most useful method of all. Is there anyone who can tell what this is? Anyone at all, speak up.’

  ‘Sir, who can speak in your presence? Please oblige us by telling us yourself.’

  ‘Well then, I can shout from the rooftops that this method is the best. Just as the moon is the purest of the pure of the heavenly bodies.’

  ‘Sir, we can’t wait any longer. Please tell us this method.’

  ‘All right then, listen, listen carefully. This method is—feeding the mouth with the best meals with the nicest delicacies. Is there anyone to challenge my words? Come up and I will give you proof from the Vedas.’

  One man interjected, ‘I don’t understand how eating nice things is above honesty in speech.’

  A few others said, ‘Yes, yes, we too have the same question. Sir, please clear our doubt.’

  Moteram said, ‘Anyone else with doubts? I will be more than happy to clear them. Gentlemen, you ask why eating or feeding others good food is a better method than truth-telling. My answer is that the first method is direct and the other is indirect. For example, imagine that I commit a crime. If I am called by the judge and told mildly that I have not done a good deed, that I have not been correct, then this punishment would not be successful in putting me on the right track. Gentlemen, I am not a saint, I am just a poor man trapped in a web of illusion. This punishment will have no effect on me. The moment I leave the presence of the judge I will go back to my bad ways. Do you follow me? Do you doubt what I am saying? Anybody who does not agree?’

  ‘Sir! You are an ocean of knowledge, you are a jewel among the pandits. You are great.’

  ‘All right, consider the same example yet again. The judge calls me and puts me in jail where I am subjected to severe tribulations. Now, when I am freed, for years I will remember these travails and, in all probability, give up the wrong path. You will ask, why is this? Both are punishments, so why is it that one method makes a direct impact while the other one makes an indirect impact? This is because while the effect of the first method is evident, the effect of the other is subtle. Did you all understand?’

  ‘Wow! God has blessed you with immense intellect.’

  ‘Okay, so now you will ask, what are the best things in life? Let me explain. Just as God created many colours to please the eyes, in the same way he created many flavours for the mouth; but which is the best of these
flavours? Of course, it depends on personal taste but as per the Vedas and the shastras, it is the sweet flavour. The gods are all entranced by sweetness, even Sachidanand, the Almighty Lord, prefers sweet dishes above all others. Can anyone mention a God who prefers salty dishes? Is there anyone who can name such a Divine Light? No one. In the same way sour, bitter, spicy and piquant foods do not suit the taste buds of the gods at all.’

  ‘Sir, your wisdom cannot be surpassed.’

  ‘So it is proven then that sweet dishes are the best. Now, once again, the question before us is, do all sweet dishes provide the same degree of pleasure? If I say yes, then you will all shout at once that Panditji, you are crazy, you’ve lost your wits, so I will say no, definitely not. All sweet dishes are not equally pleasing. There is a lot of difference between jaggery and sugar. That is why it is our primary duty to appease the mouth. We should eat as well as serve the best sweet dishes. My own view is that if you offer imartis from Jaunpur, motichoor from Agra, pedas from Mathura, kalakand from Benares, Lucknow’s rasgullas, Ayodhya’s gulab jamuns and Delhi’s sohan halva, then it is food fit for the gods. The gods will be enchanted by these. And that brave and noble person who feeds the Brahmins with such delicacies will certainly get a place in heaven. If you have true faith, then I can only urge you to follow the call of dharma, otherwise you will only be pretending to be human.’

  Moteram’s speech came to an end. People clapped. Impressed by this outpouring of knowledge and teaching, they showered flowers on him. It was then that Chintamani made himself heard.

  ‘Folks, you have listened to my dearest friend Pandit Moteram’s powerful speech. Now while there is no need for me to get up and speak, I must say that although I am generally in agreement with him on most subjects, I also have a slight difference of opinion. In my view, if you are holding just Jaunpuri imartis in your hand, then these would be more enjoyable, more tasty and more beneficial than the five ritual sweetmeats. I can prove this by citing the shastras.’