by Akhilesh
‘Start what?’
‘Drinking! Don’t you drink?’
‘I’ll keep you company, Chacha.’
‘The bottle you brought is costlier and superior, so let’s open it.’
‘You take it. I’ll receive Chacha’s wine as Chacha’s blessings.’
‘Then Chacha would also enjoy Chacha’s wine.’ Chacha lit the lamps on the stool in the middle of the ground and started pumping air into them. He lifted them up and hung them from the branches of two different trees, their light illuminating the ground. In a little while, it appeared as if light was showering from the heavens. Suryakant felt as though a memory was drawing close, and all at once it loomed in front of him – the recollection of the night under the moonlit sky during Chacha’s wedding. The house, the rooftop, the old sky were not here this night. But the memory rattled his heart and mind. He saw Chacha and thought about himself. The two of them had changed a lot since that other night.
The table was laid. Tomatoes, cucumbers, onions and green chillies were put in a plate, another had gram, the third held dalmoth, the fourth papad and the fifth contained pakoras. There were peanuts in a bowl, another had raw mango and mint chutney. Chacha pulled his lungi up to his knees and squatting on the ground, poured the liquor into the glasses. After a couple of drinks, Chacha and Suryakant commenced a conversation that continued through the night. During their chat, Suryakant asked Chacha several questions, and Chacha replied to them in his typical style. A slightly summarized and edited version of the conversation follows.
Chacha, you were once a man of good taste. You used to buy the latest, most expensive goods. You visited Lucknow with your family regularly, and watched movies in multiplexes and shopped at the mall. Why do you now live like a mendicant in a hermitage?
I was once a man without direction, I only stumbled on the right path later in life and reformed. Earlier, I used to believe, like a fool, that I should march in step with scientific advancements. I was delighted when I bought the latest gadgets in the belief that I was a modern man. I wanted to walk briskly with my family in the corridor of modernity in every aspect – fashion, entertainment, food, lifestyle, everything! I wanted the kids and your Chachi not to be conservative or uncultured. But one day, I realized that I was actually turning them into something I never wanted them to be. I was once ill with a liver infection and was confined to my bed, but my family was not the least bit bothered.
They ate, drank and made merry as though nothing had happened, enjoying movies on TV. Your Chachi’s visits to the market to buy loads of goodies was not interrupted even once. Nobody sat by me. Nobody asked whether I was suffering. I often was squirming in pain, but the brats kept on enjoying Maggi and films in the adjacent room! I realized how unfortunate and alone I was! The last straw was when I asked my son to give me my medicine, he put his call on hold and slammed the pills down furiously.
I responded, ‘You are giving me poison, not medicine!’
He retorted, ‘Only if I really had any right now!’
I confess, Suryakant, despite being ill and frail, I shot up like an arrow and slapped him hard. And then your Chachi rushed in, shouting, and tossed all the medicines near my pillow and said, ‘Do it yourself!’ She returned to the TV to blind herself in its glare. Unable to bear it, I shouted, ‘I’m going to die soon. When I’m dead, you will forget all this revelry!’ But they were deaf. Soon after, my daughter dedicated a joke to me, and it runs like this:
Golu ki Papa se ho gayi ladayi,
Papa ne ki Golu ki khub pitayee,
Gusse se Golu ka khaula khoon,
Aur Papa ki photo kabristan mein
Latkakar likh diya – coming soon!
There was also another incident. Our grandfather underwent a bypass surgery right before his death. Bhaiya was facing financial trouble because he’d paid for Nupoor’s wedding just two months before that. I paid for the bypass surgery and naturally, I also went broke. Not merely broke, I accrued debt because I had already spent most of my earnings in the construction and decoration of my house. I was hard-pressed for money. The resentment, accusation and loathing that I then beheld in the eyes of my wife and the kids broke something inside me. I tell you, Suryakant, it was during those days that I came to the bank of this river one night and walked for a long time.
The bank was desolate. Only the flames of a pyre danced in the distance. I kept walking. I was alone under the starry sky, and suddenly, I had an epiphany. Epiphany is perhaps an inadequate word – it was more like enlightenment … no, that’s inadequate as well. But I purged myself of attachment that night. The next day, I moved to this portion of the house. After three months, when I received some unexpected money, I wickedly thought of buying a more expensive TV or fridge for myself to taunt them. I acquired and wore a wristwatch worth twelve thousand rupees and stuck a fourteen-hundred-rupee Sheaffer pen in my pocket. I bought a plasma TV.
I had, on the one hand, the pleasure of teaching my wife and kids a lesson, and on the other, I was proud that I had joined the elite of society. I did not realize by acquiring these I had destined myself to pace restlessly by the river once again. One day, while returning from the college, I purchased a magazine to kill time. It carried the success stories of the Indian middle class and reported that they were now capable of buying watches worth twenty-two lakhs and pens worth twenty to twenty-five thousand rupees. The readers were informed through the photograph of a model that she dons panties worth twenty thousand, sunglasses worth thirty thousand and bra worth eight thousand rupees and that she holds a ten-thousand-rupee parasol to cross the road. A software engineer has spent one crore on his drawing room and the bedroom of a doctor was furnished with seventy lakhs. The magazine also carried pictures of a representative of the middle class in clothes worth twenty-two lakh, walking towards his forty-lakh-rupee car. Suryakant, believe me, it was a cold January night and I started sweating.
I could not sleep the whole night. I felt I had been cheated but I found it hard to discern who had cheated me. Was it the economy, my family or was it me? I, who had considered myself successful, superior and astute till yesterday, realized I was worth nothing. Even if I leave out the middle class, in front the filthy rich I was no more than an insect. Soon after, I went to Delhi and in a last attempt to recover from this frustration, I purchased six teacups and saucers for twenty-four thousand rupees. I had thought there were terrible few that could afford this luxury. Every morning and evening, I sipped tea from a cup and saucer costing four thousand rupees each and smiled – how many persons can manage it?
It was because of my inferiority complex or perhaps my brazenness or my arrogance that I informed a few of my friends about this purchase, and then I found out that I was a laggard on this account as well. Leave aside what is happening in the world and across the country, there are dozens of people in this sleepy little town who drink tea from silver teacups. One liquor contractor offers his guests tea in gold teacups. He says drinking tea from a gold teacup slows down ageing and boosts sexual desire. I was beaten on this front too. I felt that I am merely a tailender in this blind race.
I went to the river that night again. No pyres were burning. Only a boatman rowed his boat, and I could not tell from where he was coming or where he was going so late in the night. The sound of splashing from his oar broke the quiet of the night – to be honest, it lent a sort of background music to the quiet. I kept pacing the entire night, and in the morning, men started appearing on the bank for a bath. I returned to my portion of the house and laughed at the world of the rich. I told the inhabitants of their world, ‘If you have your luxury, your opulence, I have my austerity to match it! What about the family that I wanted to mock and vanquish with my expensive purchases? I handed everything over to them. I obtained a surahi, two earthen pitchers, mats, jars, etc. and fetched a few utensils from our village. And that’s how your Chacha turned mendicant.
You quit teaching at the college and relinquished your salary. Why? Your
family is facing hardships now.
I didn’t do this to vex them, neither was it an act of revenge. I wanted reform. I was eager to see them as good human beings, but they grew into something different. I always encouraged them to pursue science and progress because I believed that it was the true future of humanity. But somehow, it made them mean and petty. They are devoid of sentiment and only hanker after money. They don’t simply desire happiness, but are raring to beat the happiness of others by joining a blind race. I realized I had to protect them from the onslaught of materialism and hence, I assumed this duty. I suppose slavery to riches takes away the essential qualities of being human. I chose this course of austerity, and now I am quite content.
But why do you force your family to walk your path?
What’s wrong with that? If I were being a hypocrite and expected my family to walk this path, it would have been wrong. But I stick to my ideals because I feel I’m right. Does it matter if I want my family or the world to walk with me?
But instead of convincing them, you force them to follow you by making life difficult for them.
I am not making their life difficult. If you really want to call this something, you can call it my satyagraha.
But when your family was watching TV, why did your radio blare at full volume? What was the point of behaving like that?
This was a form of passive resistance. Whenever I switched on the news or old film songs, they would immediately change the channel to some absurd soap; if I use Amma’s words, there would be ‘bare-buttocked bimbos’ hopping to shrill music. I couldn’t even watch my favourite film on TV. As soon as I started watching something, they began to scowl! Suryakant, it was not I who started this game of forcing one’s interests upon others and disrespecting everyone else’s sentiments – it was them. They are simply reaping the consequences. I was determined that I would take them to task. You want to enjoy these rotten serials, fine. Here is my transistor at full volume! I counteracted their idiot box with my Vividh Bharti and All India Radio.
What makes you despise everything that is new?
Now, this is incorrect. Who dislikes children, green buds or fresh blossoms? However, if a child starts abusing his elders, is he a decent human being or a subject of pity? I’m familiar with the law of nature – the old must decay, and the new will take on the old. But not even nature rules that a tree will be populated only by new leaves. Autumn does not pluck away all the old leaves at once. If you adhere to this ideology of power of the new, there will be no space for the backward in society or for those who are on the margins, their interests, their customs, their cultures. Suryakant, I do not detest every new thing. You know very well that I have always welcomed new ideas. But I find the haughtiness and coldness associated with novelty intolerable – I hate it. My most ardent desire was to exist in a time where the beauty of the new and the old would complement each other, but I have failed to locate such a period or a space in time. And so, I have reverted to a time long gone. It was impossible to travel to the future because no person can alone attain the future of his dreams. So, I travelled to the past. I acknowledge this past has been manufactured by me. It’s not natural, but what choice did I have? I could not mould the future!
But Chacha, you called all those heroines of the day bare-buttocks, but this is not right. There are many …
Suryakant, you only paid attention to my words, and not their implications. If you had been attentive, you would have realized I did not mean just the women. I simply wanted to convey that whether it is the actresses or the actors, they participate in obscenity together. It does not matter much whether they are naked or not. In fact, the agenda of the entire show is to project women as objects of titillation. Even if I was targeting only the actresses, tell me, how many heroines today have the guts to refuse nudity in their dread of failure?
Were all the heroines before this pious? There were several who jiggled their busts right in the hero’s face. Darting eyes, shaking hips and the thrust of the pelvis were regarded as expressions of love.
You’re right. However, the trouble is that you see only what they were doing; you also have to consider what they did not do. The things they refused were publicly acknowledged. A great film producer famously fell in love with the heroine of his films, but she refused him. And the producer would rather have died than force her. On the contrary, today’s producers use the casting couch trap.
You are too concerned about virginity in women. You are conservative.
Yes, I am traditional. But it is not true that I am concerned about virginity in women. Yes, I do believe that whether it is a man or a woman, if they fall in love with someone, desire exists not only on the emotional and spiritual plane, but also the physical. You would not like to share the love of your partner with anyone else. Similarly, you wouldn’t like to share her body with someone. When you love someone, you want to offer every goodness of your soul to her; similarly, you would like to offer all the glory and the loveliness of your body.
You are really smart, Chacha. When I ask you a mundane question, you come up with a philosophical answer and when I ask you something serious, you deal with it in a lighter vein. You have used the word ‘goodness’ right now – how do you define it?
I don’t know. Perhaps beauty is what makes us sad when we part from it, when it forsakes us. And when we have it, we find pleasure, we are exultant. It is a matter of regret that there are few such things nowadays. Do a person’s eyes shine when he beholds the parliament, court, leaders, schools, temples or rivers? Does anyone feel any joy or delight? Justice, health, education, politics – these are meant for the improvement of our society, but look at how things have deteriorated. These very institutions now scare men the most! They have turned into the opposite of what they were intended to be. You see a lawyer wearing a black coat and you feel instantly that justice is going to be throttled. You look at the police and you are apprehensive that some innocent person will be trapped and the criminal will enjoy security. How many doctors can really be called compassionate? Almost every one of them is busy stuffing his pocket as well as that of the drug firms. It is the doctors who treat patients most inhumanly and cruelly. Now, tell me, can you preserve beauty in such a set-up?
Chacha, you are quoting only bad instances. Society has become so much more advanced – so many exquisite parks are coming up. Shiny highways, flyovers, spotless malls are under construction. Do you find all this ugly?
You consider this beauty? I pity your intellectual deterioration. Your Gauri, my Balwant Kaur, or the smile of an innocent girl, or a crying child breaking into a tinkling laugh all at once or the canary hopping from one branch to another – any one of these is superior to your idea of beauty. Beauty is created only when man, beasts and birds receive true pleasure. Only that which is beautiful both extrinsically and intrinsically is truly beautiful. These national highways have been built after massacring millions of trees – how can you call them beautiful? They have been put up only for cars and for the comfort of the rich. Malls are built only for selling products. Your industrial progress, your SEZs created after snatching land away from farmers, dams, electricity projects materializing at the cost of uprooting and displacing entire communities – how can they be called beautiful?
You are anti-development, Chacha. It seems you have resolved to impede the progress of civilization. If civilization moves ahead, and there is progress, there is bound to be destruction! This is the cardinal rule and this is what has always happened.
Damn such a rule! Progress, progress, progress! In these times, progress itself has become an objective. I say that the objective should be man’s betterment and progress, the means, but now the wheel is spinning in the opposite direction. The betterment of man be damned, there must be progress. The quintessence of humanity may be destroyed, but there must be shine and glitter outside. This progress amounts to nothing but loot and robbery. It is not concerned about the earth moving to the brink of catastrophe. Light, grain, wat
er, air – everything has become scarce. Will man survive on the staple of progress then? Last year, I also complained to a friend like you that food now tastes insipid. The red rice that melted in one’s mouth is no longer available. However well you garnish the dal, you can’t get the old taste. How fragrant the mint and the dill leaves were earlier! He replied, ‘But these things are available to a larger number of people now. What is the harm if the taste is a little bland – everyone at least gets two square meals?’ I gave up and told him that it was as if the destruction of taste was proportionate to the production of food – as if it is imminent like death. Why not increase production and retain the taste as well? Should not there be an attempt to sustain the beauty and feel of objects in the journey of progress? Is it wise to attain progress at the cost of all good things?
It seems to me that you want to feel persecuted. In today’s world, people are happier. They are enjoying themselves.
If you consider this happiness, a beast is happier than man. An upright person is he or she who thinks about the good of others. To sacrifice oneself is true apotheosis – there is genuine happiness in bestowing joy upon others, but most people today only care about their individual pleasure. It does not prick a man’s conscience if he has to torment thousands for his happiness. The philosophy of progress and the present civilization is that one ought not to worry about the coming generations. Milk everything dry. Let our progeny deal with its own gloom. However, are we really benefiting ourselves? We consume delicacies only to give ourselves convoluted bouts of constipation and flatulence. Sick in the mind, we keep thinking about the ways and means of earning more, and we join the rat race with ailing hearts – not to get ahead but to defeat others. The more prosperous one is, the more violent he becomes; the more powerful one is, the more intolerant he grows.
Take America, the most prosperous, most powerful, most technologically advanced nation in the world, but also the most brutal. The internal violence in that country has reached such a level that young men gun down dozens of innocents simply for their pleasure, on a whim. You may say it is decadence, but it has come out of a social system that adores power, prosperity and bloodshed. The degree of external violence is so large that America has inflicted wars on Iraq, Afghanistan and Vietnam. It is also accountable for assassinations and civil wars in several countries via the CIA. And still, ironically, people consider America paradise, waiting to transform their nation into an America. They want to look like Americans by aping them. Why don’t they understand that nobody can remain peaceful and happy if they seize the peace of others, or by persecuting them, by making them miserable, by grabbing their share? Such a person won’t prosper. He won’t flourish.