by Pandey Kapil
Revel Sahib did not die within the confines of his bungalow; he breathed his last at Gango Padayen’s place, under the open sky. When the end drew near, the entire community came together to pay its last respects to him. He departed bidding adieus and bestowing benedictions. Sahay was then in Chhapra. As soon as the news reached him, he rushed to Revelgunj. The funeral procession was quite grand; a huge contingent of mourners trailed the coffin carrying Revel Sahib’s body, singing devotional songs to the accompaniment of drums and cymbals. The procession stopped briefly at his bungalow, before heading towards its final destination on the bank of the Saryu. A grave was dug next to the memsahib’s. Sahay tried to convince the priest at the Church in Chhapra to preside over the interment, but without success. With slogans like ‘Victory to Revel Baba’ rending the air, he was laid down at his final resting place. The effusive outpouring of grief and the heartfelt display of devotion had the same intensity with which people bid farewell to saints and seers. Later, a funeral feast was thrown at the bungalow.
When Sahay recalled Revel Sahib’s funeral procession, he was also reminded of the last days of Ramnarayan. By the time Sahay had reached Pakadi, Ramnarayan had grown too frail to speak. He called to mind how his old friend had clasped his hands. Holding him thus, a misty-eyed Ramnarayan had merely cast expectant glances at him. Although no words were spoken, yet Sahay felt as though his friend had taught him the most valuable lesson of his life. To drive that lesson home, Ramnarayan had striven so very hard, albeit unsuccessfully. He had tried unremitting persuasion and occasional quarrels; he had seethed during fifteen years of separation; he had buried memories of humiliation, forgiven without an apology, and returned of his own to counsel his friend; he had even sung songs and lectured him tirelessly. Yet, he couldn’t make his friend see the worth of that lesson. However, that day, through a simple touch, Sahay could grasp the essence of his friend’s words.
* * *
Gulzaribai pleaded through her sobs, ‘What useless thoughts are you lost in? Please send your servants to look for Jiriya.’
Sahay sat upright on his bed, smiled and spoke reassuringly, ‘Do not worry, Gulzari. I will send Pataluwa right away.’ His smile broadened into a grin as he called out loudly, ‘Pataluwa!’
But how was Pataluwa to respond to his master’s call. ‘Arrey, Pataluwa!’ he repeated his summon, feigning surprise and anger. There was no question of a reply. After waiting for a few moments, he turned to Gulzaribai and said playfully, ‘You look tired, Gulzari; go and get a little rest. You won’t find her again. It appears to me that Pataluwa has run away with your Jiriya, that too from the midst of a gathering.’ Gulzaribai cast a stinging sidelong glance at Sahay, wiped her tears off and went away with a smile of relief. Since that day, no one tried looking for either Jiriya or Pataluwa.
But the incident had amplified Sahay’s preoccupations manifold. Day after day, he spent long hours updating accounts with his manager Shivdharilal. At times, both were carted off in a carriage to places unknown to Gulzaribai. When evenings came, Sahay picked up his walking-stick and went out to take long solitary strolls. His nights were spent in Gulzaribai’s company; she sang a few bhajans and thereafter, the two gossiped till late. Whenever Sahay brought up a matter related to his zamindari, intricate or simple, Gulzaribai would panic and cry out in exasperation, ‘Hey Ram! This brings my head to ache.’
‘When I was first burdened with these responsibilities, this is exactly how I felt. My head ached too. But once I got a hang of it, I started relishing them,’ saying so, Sahay tried to laugh the matter away and change the subject of their conversation. But, before long, they found themselves returning to it, talking about matters concerning property, opium trade and such. Soon, legal documents, too, found their way into these discussions. For Gulzaribai—who was quite cut-off from the tough world of business dealings and estate management—it was all too puzzling. She was often found reiterating her pet grievance: ‘I’ll never come to grips with this. It makes me hopelessly confused.’
But Sahay merely laughed at her show of irritation and said, ‘Gulzari, there is no getting away. Munshi-ji has become very old. We can’t expect him to manage everything on his own. And as you know, the law court keeps me very busy.’
But that day, Gulzaribai noticed something that rattled her: the tendrils of grey hair on Sahay’s head caused a great upheaval in her heart. She felt as if it was Sahay, and not Shivdharilal, who had aged after all. Suddenly, her vision was clouded by a strange darkness and she felt dizzy. However, she somehow reined in her emotions and put on a smile.
This went on for sometime. In Pataluwa’s absence, Gulzaribai took charge of the everyday needs of Sahay. But the responsibility wasn’t as strenuous as it used to be. Sahay had limited his personal needs considerably. There was hardly any time for the small indulgences he was known to take delight in; the affairs of the opium trade and the zamindari left him with no time to spare. Keen on relieving Sahay of his burden, Gulzaribai started assisting him with his business dealings; she began shouldering responsibilities of the kind she had dreaded all along. But she could sense that his business was beginning to tail off. And one day, dog-tired after a lifetime of hard work, he left his estate in Shivdharilal’s care and got ready to leave for Revelgunj—perhaps setting out on a long-awaited withdrawal from the din of the everyday world. When Gulzaribai offered to go with him, he simply laughed and added, ‘Would I get any rest if you are around? The troubles of household chores will continue to hound me.’
None had the pluck to question his decision; as Sahay prepared to relocate to Revelgunj, one could only be a silent bystander. He was determined to live all by himself; no servant or aide was to accompany him. Before boarding the carriage, he bade farewell to each one of his folks. As soon as the vehicle started moving, Bulakna grabbed his spear and started running behind it. Seeing him Sahay smiled affectionately and surrendered to his childlike persistence, ‘All right. Come along.’ Once the carriage moved past the entrance, it stopped for a moment. Those who had followed it till the gate were staring keenly in its direction. Jutting his head out, Sahay inspected the crowd. He looked around, as if to soak up the memories of the place. And then, his carriage sped off. Bulakna had planted himself firmly on the carriage’s foot-stand, spear in his hand.
Later that day, a vacant carriage returned to Chhapra. Sahay hadn’t allowed it beyond the main entrance of the Opium Mansion. The following day, a teary-eyed Bulakna returned too and presented himself to Gulzaribai. He was carrying a bunch of papers. Tormented by ominous premonitions, Gulzari inquired nervously, ‘And what about Sahib, Bulakna?’
He handed over the papers, including a letter from Sahay, and stood attentively for further instructions. His head was bowed and his arms crossed over his chest. Gulzaribai was on pins and needles. Her hands trembled in nervous anticipation as she opened the letter. She could easily recognize the handwriting; it was unmistakably Haliwant Sahay’s. She started reading it, her mind clouded with trepidations:
Blessed Gulzari,
Haliwant Sahay sends his benedictions. As you know, Revel Sahib was both a father and a mentor to me. Having returned to his bungalow, I experience great tranquillity. When I came here, I discovered Revel Sahib’s old medicine-box; it was lying abandoned on his table. Due to years of neglect, it was coated with a thick layer of with dust. I have scoured it clean.
So far, I have seared and suffered all by myself. All my life, I have endured several tragedies, most of which was caused by my egoism.
I finally sense that there is a little happiness in store for me too. In his death, Misir Bhai has brightened several roads through which I may escape this dark maze called the world. And when I came here, Revel Sahib’s dust-coated medicine box made everything clear as daylight.
During my time, I have fought many battles. But each one of those was actually a struggle against my own self. And even as these battles raged on, at last, I can sense victory.
I have divid
ed my entire property in two halves. One half, along with the Red Mansion, goes to you; the other half, together with the White Mansion, will go to my blood relatives. As for my share, I have found father Revel Sahib’s medicine-box. Carrying this inheritance, I shall now embark on a path shown by brother Misir and seek my Ram. Pray, do not look for me.
Munshi Shivdharilal can be trusted to look after the estate. Should you need any more help, ask Registrar Sahib for it.
Wishing you good fortune
Having read the letter, Gulzaribai went numb. Bulakna was still waiting, his head still bowed. After a while, having regained her composure, she flounced indoors and returned quickly with a bag full of money. She gave it to Bulakna and said, ‘Go, Bulakna, go. I relieve you of your duties. Go elsewhere, earn your livelihood, and live your life.’
Bulakna was tongue-tied. Clutching the bag of money, he waited for long in silence, his head bowed all the while. How could he look Gulzaribai in the face? Finally, he hobbled his way out of the mansion.
After seeing Bulakna off, she went straight to the White Mansion and collected the portraits of Revel Sahib and Haliwant Sahay—one from the shrine room and the other from the sitting room. Thereafter, she had its gate locked and returned to the Red Mansion. Apart from the gatekeepers, all other servants of the White Mansion were summoned for a farewell huddle. As salaries were being handed around, Gulzaribai burst into sobs and said, ‘I feel crushed to let you all go.’ But she had no choice. By now, the servants were also aware of the changed circumstances; there was no escaping the inevitable. They knew it well that when the sahib himself has abandoned his mansion, no one else could shelter them. Every one of them was in tears. Those golden days of abundance and joy, which they had spent in the sahib’s company, were now behind them. Casting a final wistful glance at the White Mansion, they left for their homes.
Munshi Shivdharilal came running in. His face was wrinkled, but the gleam in his eyes was not lost. In spite of his advanced years, his tall and wiry frame was still in good shape. A knee-length dhoti, markeen kurta, traditional cap and a red towel slung across his shoulders—such was his customary attire. Holding on to Sahay’s letter, he stood frozen for a long time. It had surely stirred a storm in his heart.
In terms of age, Sahay was much younger than Shivdharilal. He remembered how, years ago, when he had started working at Revel Sahib’s bungalow, he was already past his youth, while Sahay was still poised on its threshold. Although he had come to him a broken man, Sahay had received him with bounteous affection. It was on the strength of that enveloping warmth that he had managed to survive, one day at a time. After a while, he wiped his eyes, cleared his throat and said, ‘Babu Haliwant Sahay always took good care of me. Even in his retirement, he did not forget to provide for me; where else was I supposed to find refuge at this ripe old age? Bai-ji, I am ready to serve you. You shall be the mistress and I will be your servant. I will protect your wealth and carry out all your commands.’
Tears welled up in Gulzaribai’s eyes. Forcing the bundle of documents in his hands, she said, ‘No, Munshi-ji. I am not your mistress and you aren’t my servant. You shall be my father and I will be your daughter.’
Overwhelmed with kindness, Shivdharilal chewed on his bottom lip, as he reflected on Gulzaribai’s disarming words. Her noble gesture had left him dumbstruck.
* * *
When Rai Lachhman Prasad returned home from the law court and learnt of this sudden development, he was utterly shocked. Surely, he couldn’t have foreseen the situation. He was very close to Sahay. On many occasions, he had gazed deep into Sahay’s mind, and based on that, he could sense that Sahay was gradually becoming senile. Yet, his inventive mind had nurtured the hope that Sahay would do well to choose him as his heir. And in some remote recess of his head, he had also harboured tender feelings for Gulzaribai. As soon as he received the news of Sahay’s departure, he lost no time in reaching the White Mansion. But its gate was locked. Upon seeing a friend of his former master, the gatekeeper broke down and wept inconsolably.
Prasad’s entire body shook with anger and he stomped towards the Red Mansion. Gulzaribai’s waiting-woman was standing at the gate. When she saw him approaching, with that look of fury on his face, she put herself across the gate and blocked his access. Irked by her impudence, he spoke to her in a domineering tone, trying to assert his authority, ‘Listen, you! Go, inform Bai-ji at once.’
She did his bidding and returned almost immediately, with a somewhat discourteous message, ‘Sahib, mistress is busy with her puja. It will be a while before she is ready to receive you.’
‘Bai-ji is busy saying her prayers! Oh, really? Having killed seventy rats, the cat has become a saint,’ he thought to himself.
The message sent by Gulzaribai burnt him up. Smarting under that lukewarm response, clearly intended as an insult, he left the scene right away. On his way back, he brooded over every possible strategy to meet the crisis at hand. ‘That harlot Dhela rises to become the proprietor. All these years, I clung to Sahay as if I were his shadow. And what do I get? Well, so be it. If I am a true Kayasth, I’ll reduce everything she owns to ashes.’
As soon as he reached home, his carriage was readied and he set out for Sheetlapur. The vehicle’s sluggish pace on the muddy road caused him great annoyance. Every time he rebuked the carriage driver and grumbled about speed, the driver reacted by whipping the horse. It was only late at night that Prasad reached Sheetlapur, his head scheming furiously. A meeting with Sahay’s relatives was promptly convened. Since it was already quite late, dinner was also served. They ate together and discussed strategies to do her out of her inheritance. An hour later, as the night deepened, Prasad set off for Chhapra. When his carriage drove past the Red Mansion, he turned to look at its high walls, a crooked smile playing on his face. ‘So, is the saint still praying?’ he thought to himself.
By afternoon, a small crowd had gathered near the White Mansion. Sahay’s relatives were already there. Shivdharilal brought the keys and opened the gate. Putting down the documents for everyone to see, he started explaining everything in earnest, ‘All you gentlemen are relatives of Sahib. I was only his humble servant. Since Sahib has forfeited everything, all of this is now yours. If you find my services acceptable, you may employ me as a servant to look after this estate. What more can I say.’
One of Sahay’s relative blared angrily, ‘Munshi-ji, do not mislead us by feigning innocence. All these years, you duped and swindled our uncle; now, no more of your tricks. These papers that you have brought pertain only to half of his estate. Be a good man and bring the rest of the deeds, or unpleasant consequences are sure to follow.’
‘Sahib, but the other half has been bequeathed to Gulzaribai. How am I supposed to give those papers to you?’ he replied with utmost humility.
‘By what right has our uncle given our ancestral property to a harlot? We are his legitimate heirs.’
That disrespectful remark incensed Munshi-ji. ‘Son, mind your words,’ saying so, he walked out of the White Mansion, even as the relatives looked on in surprise.
11
Friends, Foes and Heirs
When the night came, Prasad convened a meeting in the front yard of his house. The gates of the campus were shut to keep the affair guarded. Sahay’s relatives had no idea about the extent of his wealth or the expanse of his estate. They never had the chance to enjoy proximity with him. Moreover, because of the social stigma that his decadent lifestyle carried, they usually stayed away from him. The unexpected windfall had driven them crazy, but they were furious because Gulzaribai was granted such a huge share in the property. ‘Is that even lawful?’ they asked Prasad and debated strategies to toss her out of the property-sharing arrangement. ‘Is she a relation of Haliwant Sahay? What claim does that harlot have over his property?’
Prasad was delighted with the turn of events; he had found the strings that would let him manipulate them like puppets. But greed wasn’t Prasad’s only sin; he lust
ed for Gulzaribai too. For the past so many years, he had imagined himself to be the heir-apparent to everything that belonged to Sahay, including Gulzaribai. His mind obsessed over her beauty. However, with the changed circumstances, all his long-cherished plans were beginning to spin out of his control. Gulzaribai had become nearly inaccessible, as was half of Sahay’s property that was bequeathed to her. And the other half, set aside for his relatives, was equally out-of-reach? But Prasad was a true Kayasth; he wasn’t prepared to admit defeat without a fight.
Sahay’s relatives lacked the means necessary for a long legal battle. But on the strength of Prasad’s assurance of help, they decided to stay put in Chhapra and fight the lawsuit. Prasad was alert to their vulnerabilities, and too keen to exploit them. At the same time, he also wanted Gulzaribai to come running to him, and plead for rescue. Till that happened, he decided to wait in the wings, even as he pushed others to the centre stage.
‘Please pay attention to my words. I am a government officer. I must not get embroiled in your messy property dispute. But it is no secret that Haliwant Sahay was my dearest friend. For that reason, I find it insufferable to live with the thought that a harlot might claim half of his wealth. Although, it is only fair that she, too, gets a little money to live on, but that does not mean she should end up owning half of his estate, in the same league as all you gentlemen. This is why I have decided to help you. You will find me standing with you at each step of the way. For your sake, I will even lobby judges and officials. But my name must never be mentioned. And yes, there is one more thing that you must keep in mind: sometimes, you might find Gulzaribai running to me for help, but you should not be worried by that. I am totally with you, body and spirit.’