The Complete Short Stories

by Premchand

  Kailas understood that these words were merely an expression of Naeem’s courtesy. He knew that Naeem wanted to offer him some consolation for his sorry condition, hence he would make an effort to conceal it from Naeem.

  There was pandemonium in the estate of Vishnupur. The manager of the estate had been murdered in his bungalow in broad daylight, and in full view of hundreds of people. Although the assassin had escaped, suspicion pointed towards the crown prince. As he had not yet come of age, the estate was managed by the Court of Wards. The manager was also responsible for the care of the crown prince, but the luxury-loving prince found his attentions cumbersome. Both had been at loggerheads for years, and had even exchanged harsh words on numerous occasions. It was natural therefore for the crown prince to be regarded as the prime suspect in this case. The district collector appointed Naeem to look into the case, as having a police officer investigate it would have been humiliating for the prince.

  For Naeem, this was the golden opportunity that he had been waiting for. He was neither wise, nor of a sacrificing nature. Everyone was aware of the weaknesses of his character, everyone, that is, except the officers who had handed him this case. The crown prince found in Naeem the answer to his prayers. When Naeem reached Vishnupur, he was given a spectacular welcome. Gifts began pouring in. The lower officials in his retinue found themselves deluged with presents. They were treated like sons-in-law of the estate.

  One morning, the prince’s mother arrived and stood with folded hands before Naeem. He had been reclining comfortably, smoking a hookah. When he saw this veritable glowing image of restraint and penance, he sat up immediately.

  The queen looked at him with eyes filled with motherly love, and spoke, ‘Sir, my son’s life and fate are in your hands. In the name of the mother whose illustrious son you are, I beg of you to protect my son. I leave everything in your hands.’ Pity and self-interest collectively possessed Naeem.

  3

  It was during this period that Kailas came to meet Naeem. Both hugged each other with great affection. During the course of the conversation, Naeem narrated the whole story to Kailas, and tried to justify his act.

  Kailas said, ‘In my opinion, whatever garb you may clothe it in, it’s still a sin.’ Naeem retorted, ‘I feel that if it can save a life, it’s not a sin but a good deed of the highest order. The prince is a young man, talented, intelligent, generous, and magnanimous. You’ll be happy to meet him. He’s extremely polite and courteous. That manager was an evil man who harangued the prince on the slightest pretext. So much so that he neither requested a car nor accepted the money for it. I don’t condone what the prince has done. But the debate now is, should he be declared a criminal and sentenced to prison, or should his life be saved through an acquittal. Nothing is hidden from you,’ he continued, ‘it’s a packet worth twenty thousand rupees. All I have to do is state in my report that this incident happened because of personal enmity, and that the prince has nothing to do with it. I’ve destroyed whatever evidence I could find.’ He went on, ‘There was another reason why I was appointed to look into this matter. The prince being a Hindu, the collector deliberately chose me and not a Hindu official. This communal difference is enough to prove me innocent. On one or two occasions I have been partial towards Muslims, and now the opinion is that I am against Hindus. In fact, Hindus think of me as the very epitome of partiality. This misconception is enough to save me from any accusations. Now tell me, am I fortunate or not?’

  Kailas was hesitant. ‘What if all this comes to light?’ Naeem was quick to reply, ‘Then this will be the greatest failure of my intelligence, the fault of my research and a perfect example of the eternal law of human nature. I’m not omniscient. No one will suspect my motives or accuse me of having been bribed. So I request you to not go into the practical angle of this matter, but to stick to the moral one. Is this deed in keeping with the correct code of conduct?’

  Kailas answered, ‘One of the inevitable outcomes of this act will be that other rich people will also be encouraged to indulge in such heinous crimes. Wealth may conceal the greatest of crimes, but the spread of an idea like this will wreak such havoc in ways you can’t imagine.’ Naeem was cut to the quick. ‘No, I can’t imagine. Bribery may conceal ninety per cent of crimes, but people are still afraid to break the law.’ This discussion continued for a long time, but Kailas’s sense of justice could not overcome Naeem’s frivolous views on the matter.

  4

  The murder case of Vishnupur began to make headlines. The newspapers were unanimous in stating that that government had been partial towards the prince. At the same time, they refrained from any definitive comments, saying that the case was still sub judice.

  Naeem took a whole month to convert his ‘findings’ to the ‘truth’. When his report was published, it created a furore in the political world. The suspicions of the public were confirmed.

  Kailas was now faced with a complex problem. He was the only editor who had maintained a studied silence on this issue. He had been unable to decide what to write. To be on the side of the government would have meant demeaning his conscience, to sacrifice his personal freedom. But to remain silent was even more humiliating. Eventually, when a few of his colleagues began to imply that his silence was not without cause, it became impossible for him to stay neutral on the issue. There began an agonizing conflict between his personal and social duties. To throw out from his heart a friendship whose seed had been nurtured for twenty-five years and was now a huge shady tree was equivalent to tearing out his heart from his body. Would he have to implicate the friend who had been by his side through thick and thin, who was always ready to help him, in whose company he would forget all his worries, and the very sight of whom inspired self-confidence and strength in him? He rued the day he had decided to enter the newspaper business. He would now have to betray his friend and break his trust. Naeem had trusted him, hidden nothing from him. It would be a gross injustice to his friend to reveal the confidences he had placed in him. ‘No,’ Kailas decided, ‘I will not put a blemish on this friendship. May God never bring the day when Naeem should suffer because of me. I’m sure he would willingly give his life for me. How can I then humiliate him in public?’

  Kailas’s social duties weren’t lacking in argument either. He realized that a newspaper editor is primarily a servant of the people, whose perspective encompasses the society as a whole. He was so accustomed to moving in the vast philosophical arena of the society that the individual became insignificant for him. To sacrifice the individual to society was the first dictum of his creed, so much so that he frequently gave up his own interests for the sake of the society. The goal of his life was to follow in the footsteps of those great men who built nations, emancipated the downtrodden, and achieved immortality. He could not consciously perform an act that cast a slur on the glorious lineage of his ancestors. Kailas was a well-known and much-respected figure in the political world. His opinion was valued, his approval sought. His fearless and impartial espousal of his views had made him the leader of the newspaper community. Maintaining his friendship in this instance was therefore not only against his principles, but against his intrinsic nature as well. It would be indicative of his self-degradation, his timidity. It would mean shying away from responsibility and being ostracized for all time by the political community. What’s a mere individual, however great he may be, before the nation? Naeem’s prosperity or destruction would not affect the nation, but a deliberate concealment of the autocratic excesses of the administration could have disastrous consequences. Kailas was not bothered about the impact of his criticism of the government. For every editor, his own voice is like the roar of a lion. He believes it will rattle the administration and shake the world. He is sure that his opinions will change the epoch. Naeem was his friend, the nation was his God. Should he inflict a fatal wound on his God in order to protect his friend?

  For days on end, this conflict went on in Kailas’s mind. Finally, the community tri
umphed over the individual. He decided he would expose the irresponsibility of the administration before the people. He would reveal to them the selfish and time-serving attitude of the officials. He would make known as those who served as the eyes and ears of the government. What better way would there be to prove its incapability and its weakness? ‘Naeem may be my friend,’ he thought, ‘but he is nothing before the nation. Why should I turn away from my duty towards the nation, destroy my conscience and blemish my freedom because of fear that it may harm him?’

  He cried, ‘Oh my dearest friend! Forgive me for sacrificing you at the altar of duty. Had my own son been in your place, I would have done the same.’

  The next day, Kailas began his commentary on the incident. He began to publish serially all that he had heard from Naeem. He became a veritable snake in the grass. Other editors, having nothing but conjecture to go by, would write all kinds of false, contradictory things. On the other hand, Kailas’s comments were backed by solid proof. His columns were fearless and seemed divinely inspired. They were known more for their substance than their length. He didn’t spare Naeem either. He mocked his selfishness and greed, going so far as to reveal the exact amount that Naeem had been paid to close the case. The best part was that he even mentioned meeting with a national espionage agent who had actually seen Naeem receiving the bribe. He finally challenged the government itself to prove his allegations wrong if it could. Not only this, he even published verbatim the conversation that had taken place between him and Naeem—how the queen went to Naeem, fell at his feet, how Naeem received gifts and visits from the prince in person—all these juicy details were gradually let out in the manner of a detective novel.

  These columns created pandemonium in the political world. Opportunities to settle scores with government officers present themselves to only a few fortunate editors. Meetings condemning the actions of the administration began to be held at various places. Many members requested the management to question the government on this issue. The administration had never been in such a quandary before. Finally, it found no other way to retain its prestige except by suing Kailas for defamation.

  5

  A case was filed against Kailas. The government was defending Naeem. Kailas was his own attorney. For reasons unknown, prominent barristers and lawyers refused to fight his case. Finally, the judge had no other option but to allow Kailas to fight his own case, despite his being completely ignorant of the law. The case dragged on for months. It created a sensation among the public. Thousands of people used to gather in the courtroom every day. Newspapers began to fly off the stands. Enterprising readers earned money in the evening from the resale of the day’s newspaper as by then vendors had none left. Those issues which had earlier been known to only a few readers were now commented upon by the ordinary populace. Naeem had never been more embarrassed. He was the topic of discussion in every household and on every street. He was in the eye of the storm and at the receiving end of the ire of the people. The day finally arrived when the two friends, who would give their lives for one another, came face to face in the dock. Kailas began to question Naeem. He had never felt such anguish before. It was as if he were running a sword through his friend’s throat. For Naeem, it was nothing less than a trial by fire. The countenances of both were sad, one with self-reproach, the other with fear. Naeem tried to be jovial. He would sometimes break out in nervous laughter; but Kailas—who knew what travails his heart was undergoing at that moment?

  Kailas asked, ‘Do you accept that we were schoolmates?’

  Naeem replied, ‘Yes, I do.’

  ‘Do you accept that we were so thick that we had no secrets from each other?’

  ‘Most certainly, I do.’

  ‘Did you not tell me that the prince was responsible for this murder?’

  ‘No, I didn’t.’

  ‘Did you never utter the words that this is a packet of twenty thousand rupees?’

  Naeem neither hesitated, nor displayed any embarrassment. His voice didn’t falter or quiver at all. There was no sign of any disturbance, instability or bewilderment on his face. He stood impassive and untouched. Kailas had asked this question hesitatingly. He had been afraid that Naeem would have no answer to this question, and that he would start weeping in remorse. But Naeem replied calmly, ‘It’s possible that you might have dreamt this whole conversation.’

  Kailas was stunned for a moment. Then he turned in astonishment towards Naeem and asked, ‘Didn’t you tell me yourself that you have been partial towards Muslims on occasions and that you have been asked to investigate this case because you are regarded as being anti-Hindu?

  Naeem didn’t hesitate in the least. He spoke with composure, unperturbed, ‘Your imagination is truly amazing. In all the years I stayed with you, I didn’t have an inkling that you had such a miraculous ability to invent incidents.’

  Kailas didn’t ask any further questions. He was not as saddened by his defeat as he was at the degradation of his friend’s conscience. He could not imagine in his wildest dreams that a man could so brazenly deny his own words and that too before the person to whom they had been spoken. To Kailas, it was the zenith of human weakness. That Naeem, who was the same inside and out, he who matched his words and his deeds, whose speech was a reflection of his innermost feelings, that simple, self-respecting, truth-loving Naeem . . . how could he have become so cunning and wicked? Did a man lose his humanity when shackled in slavery? Was slavery a means of metamorphosing divine qualities into evil?

  The court offered Naeem compensation in the form of a decree for twenty thousand rupees. It was as if a thunderbolt fell on Kailas.

  6

  This decision caused a furore in the political world once again. The government newspapers called Kailas a cheat, while those on the side of the public termed Naeem the very embodiment of Satan. Naeem’s audacity might have acquitted him in the eyes of the law, but the public looked down on him even more than before. Kailas was deluged with letters and telegrams of sympathy. Newspapers spoke of his fearlessness and truthfulness in glowing terms. Meetings and processions were organized where dissatisfaction against the ruling of the court was expressed; but dry clouds do not quench the thirst of a parched earth. How was he going to get twenty thousand rupees? This was the cost of nationalism, of following one’s principles. Twenty thousand! Kailas had never seen the amount even in his dreams. Where would he get it from? The interest from such a large sum would have been enough to rid him of the worries of earning a livelihood. He abhorred the very thought of appealing to the public for money through his newspaper. ‘I didn’t seek permission from my readers before launching on this crusade,’ he thought. ‘No one had forced me to fight for the dead manager. I took upon myself the responsibility of confronting the rulers. Why should I burden the public when I alone am to blame for what has happened? Even if I would be able to collect a thousand or two from the public, it would not only be unjust, but also against the ideals of journalism. It would cast a slur on my reputation. Why should I let others mock me for saving myself by asking for charity? If I received laurels for fearless criticism, why should I expect others to pay the price for it? Let them close down my newspaper, throw me in jail, auction my house, and sell all my household goods. I shall face the consequences for what I have brought upon myself rather than beg for charity.’

  It was early morning. Rays of light from the east streamed down like a rivulet of tears. The cool breeze pierced one’s heart like a cry of grief. The open ground seemed impaled through the heart with arrows of light. The house was deathly silent, indicating the concealed sorrow of the owner. Neither the noise of the children’s voices nor the sound of the mother’s peacekeeping attempts broke the deceptive stillness. If the lamp itself is dying out, how does one light up the house? This was not the silence of hope, but that of grief, because today the government auctioneer was coming to sell off the house to the highest bidder.

  Kailas burst out in agony, ‘Alas! Today will be the las
t day of my public life. The edifice that I built painstakingly over twenty-five years will be destroyed today. My paper will be killed, my feet will be shackled with the chains of mockery and ridicule, my face blackened, this peaceful abode destroyed, and my family scattered like flower petals in the wind. There is no shelter for it in this whole wide world. Public memory is short; soon, the memory of my services will be lost in the darkness of oblivion. No one will shed a tear for me.’

  Suddenly, he remembered that he still had to write the editorial for the day. He had to inform his readers that today was the last day in the life of his paper. He would write seeking forgiveness from his readers for any wrongs done in the past, and thank them for their support and solidarity. He would tell them that he wasn’t grieving the untimely demise of the paper because this death was awarded only to those few who remained steadfast on the path of duty, and that the only thing he regretted was not being able to sacrifice more than this for the nation. He had conceptualized his editorial from beginning to end when he heard footsteps. He raised his head and saw that it was Naeem—the same smiling face, the same playful eyes. As soon as he entered, he enveloped Kailas in an embrace.