5 Indian Masters

by Welknow Indian

  1 Watchman.

  The argument did not convince Kesar. Her experience of the police so far had not at all been encouraging. “They only come after the event has taken place,” she said, “have you forgotten the old saying that the police and the rainbow only appear after the storm.” Seth Sahib defended the police. “The Government is being run by the police,” he said, “you don’t know these things.” “I still maintain,” replied Kesar, “that if the police is informed the dacoity will take place earlier. They always have a share in the spoils.” “I know, I know,” observed Seth Sahib impatiently... I have heard that happening. But then do we pay five thousand a year in taxes for nothing? And besides, haven’t we been sending presents to Daroga Sahib2 regularly? Even this winter when the Superintendent of Police came for a Shikar’, didn’t we supply all the provisions? When will there be a return for all these presents... I do agree, though, that we should not depend entirely on the police. I am a faultless shot. Let me teach you also how to handle a gun. If both of us stand with our guns, even fifty people will not have courage to enter the house.” Kesar laughed. “What is there to laugh about?” reprimanded Seth Sahib, “Women are joining the army these days and parade like soldiers. They can use all firearms.” Kesar replied mockingly, “These must be the Western women. Our women only know how to use their tongues.” “The world is changing, Kesar,” continued Seth Sahib, “I am talking about Indian women.” “No thank you,” replied Kesar, “Let alone firing at them, I will faint at the very sight of dacoits.”

  2 Police Officer.

  Just then the Chaukidar brought word that some policemen had come. Seth Sahib came out. The policemen greeted him with utmost respect and their leader said, “Daroga Sahib has sent us to find out if you have received any threatening letters. A number of dacoits have entered this area and are menacing the rich inhabitants.” Seth Sahib motioned them to sit down and replied, “Yes indeed I have. One arrived only a little while ago. I was going to inform Daroga Sahib myself.” The head constable observed, “You need not worry now. We have instructions to take care of you. Daroga Sahib has suggested that in your own interest you had better remove all your valuables to the Thana Treasury. This is not normally done but it seems that instructions have been received from the top that all persons paying more than a thousand rupees in tax should be afforded special protection. You will not be charged anything for this and you can seal your boxes and even put your own lock on the treasury. A proper receipt with an inventory will be given to you. Once the danger is over you can bring back your things. These dacoits are a dangerous lot. They do not only indulge in loot and plunder but also commit murders for money. Daroga Sahib has therefore asked us to evacuate all your valuables today. According to our information the dacoits are already in the village in disguise.”

  In the face of danger a man catches even at the most insignificant straw. In the policemen’s story there was nothing that could create the slightest doubt. Seth Sahib was certain that the Daroga had some personal gain in mind in according him this special protection and he was prepared to spend a few hundred rupees. The opportunity was God sent. However, without showing much enthusiasm outwardly he said, “I am very grateful to Daroga Sahib for his suggestion. It is his duty to protect me, though mind you I had made full arrangements to fight the dacoits.

  The whole Mohalla is with me. People have great regard for me. Anyhow I think I will take Daroga Sahib’s advice in this matter. It will relieve him of his responsibility of protecting me here and save me also unnecessary worry. I am afraid you people will have to help me in getting the things into the car. I cannot trust the servants. I assure you that your assistance will not go unrewarded.” The policemen willingly came forward to help. The head constable said, “Anything to please you sir. No doubt that we get our salaries from the Government but it is really you who pay us through your taxes. Tell us the things that you want to take with you.”

  Kesar heaved a sigh of relief when she heard the news. Seth Sahib said with the confidence of a man who is sure of winning his point, “This is the way the Government works. The police is its backbone. I shall take away everything valuable and let the dacoits come and visit an empty house.” “Yes,” said Kesar, pleased, “Then we could throw the keys in front of them and tell them to take away whatever they wanted.”

  Two of the constables went inside and started bringing out the boxes. One of them started loading them in the car. The head constable entered every item in a notebook. When everything had been loaded, Seth Sahib came out carrying Kesar’s jewel-box, ‘and handed it over to the head constable, saying, “Please take special care of this.” The head constable took the box and replied, “Even a straw of yours is as valuable to us as this box.” Seth Sahib said, “When you have finished will you give me also a copy of this list.” “You will get a pucca one at the Thana,” replied the head constable. “Why not give me one here” asked Seth Sahib with a slight suspicion. “It will take sometime to copy it. And besides what value will it be if it does not bear the signature of Daroga Sahib,” observed the head constable, “Why this sudden suspicion in your mind?” Seth Sahib felt like a child caught at mischief. “No it is not suspicion,” he said, “I only thought that it would be better if I also had a list.” The head constable replied, “If there is the slightest suspicion in your mind let us not remove the things. We shall try and protect them here for you but of course the responsibility will be yours if anything untoward happens.” Seth Sahib felt ashamed of himself and said, “Oh please do not misunderstand. It is not suspicion. It is a mere suggestion but since you say that I will get a receipt at the Thana it is alright.”

  The car was loaded to the brim. A crowd of spectators gathered round it. So full indeed was the car that there was hardly any space for anyone to sit. With difficulty Seth Sahib squeezed himself at the back seat. The constables sat in front. Kesar bade them goodbye from her doorstep as if she was sending away a married daughter.

  The car soon got out of the village and found itself in a valley surrounded on all sides by mountains. Between these silent black mountains, the red gravel road looked almost like the coloured parting of a married woman. After a while the head constable asked Seth Sahib, “How far is it true that twenty-five years ago you came to this village empty handed.” Nanak Chand replied with an air of satisfaction, “It is quite true, Khan Sahib. I had only three rupees in my pocket when I arrived here twenty-five years ago. But I had full faith in God. Luck does not take long to change.” “How have you managed to amass all this wealth?” enquired the head constable. “I have a number of businesses,” replied Seth Sahib, “mortgages, moneylending and commission agencies. I am busy nearly upto midnight. The only break I have is for meals.” “Yes,” said the head constable, “Nothing can be achieved without hard work.” “Well it is not hard work really,” observed Seth Sahib, “I only keep a vigilant eye. My servants do all the work.” “You must have saved up quite a lot,” said the head constable. “Well a fair amount,” replied Seth Sahib, ‘’but a man’s real capital is his reputation. If I like I can get things worth lakhs on credit.” “Then all your wealth is really useless for you,” observed the head constable. “That is true,” replied Seth Sahib, “but one cannot get riddance from this maya jaal till death. I am now thinking of getting a Dharamshala constructed. I also want to adopt a son and then I shall spend the rest of my life in prayers. It is a curious thing about fate that people who cannot afford children have them by the dozens and those who can, have to go without them.” “You are quite right” said the Head Constable, “This world is really a maya jaal. But you need not worry. We will get you riddance from it.” “Who can get one riddance from it except God,” replied Seth Sahib, laughing. The head constable replied in a serious tone, “It should not need God to relieve one of one’s worries. You can relieve yourself. Distribute all your wealth among the poor and see the difference. What is the use of carrying this load unnecessarily.” “What are you talking,” said Seth
Sahib, “ Give away this wealth for which I have worked so hard and have indulged in all sorts of things – dishonesty, cruelty... It is not so easy to let it go.” “But you just said that you didn’t have to work hard for it,” replied the Head Constable. “Don’t you consider supervision hard work,” enquired Seth Sahib. “Hard work,” said the head constable, “I will tell you how hard you have worked. You gave somebody a hundred rupees and recovered four hundred from him instead. Do you realise that the other three hundred came from the sweat and toil of your debtor?” Seth Sahib looked at the head constable with annoyance and amazement and tried to put an end to the conversation by saying, “Agreed that my wealth comes from the toil of others but whose doesn’t? Like this you may argue that all the world’s rich men are usurpers.” The head constable replied emphatically, “Yes indeed. You have no right to this money and I suggest that you hand it over to us. We are not constables of the Government’s police. We are members of the police of justice. We wrote to you repeatedly and asked for only twenty-five thousand rupees but you did not take any heed and depended on the government’s police to protect you. We had no choice but to play this ruse on you.” Seth Sahib’s blood solidified in his veins. “No it cannot be,” he said to himself repeatedly, “they are merely making fun of me to see if I am a coward.” Addressing the head constable he said, “You fellows are really a light-hearted lot. For a moment I thought that I had really been duped.” “You can rest assured that you have been,” replied the head constable, “there is not the slightest doubt about it.” The car came to a stop and Seth Sahib was ordered to get out. It moved off again. Seth Nanak Chand ran after it, crying, shouting, pleading, “Please take pity on me. There is not even a pie in the house. I will gladly give you twenty-five thousand rupees. Take pity at least on my old age. You say that you are the police of justice. Be just to me.” The head constable peeped out of the running car and shouted, “The time limit for that is over. Here are the three rupees with which you came to this village. Go and start afresh. Amass lot of wealth. We shall visit you again after another ten years and relieve you of it.” The car picked up speed. Seth Sahib’s cries for help were all drowned in the wilderness of the valley.

  Dr. Mulk Raj Anand

  11 Lajwanti

  The loo of May flew into Lajwanti’s face like flames from the hearth of heaven. The sun from whose mouth the fiery breeze came seemed to be standing relentlessly behind her, even as her heavyjowled brother-in-law, Jaswant, often stood, apparently to goad her on to work but really to draw her attention to himself. And, as the sweat moistened her hands, she tightened her grip on the handle of the cage in which her Myna1 sat, docile and dumb, under the oppression of the heat. But she persisted in her determination to trudge along to Gurgaon, where she hoped to catch the bus to her father’s house in Pataudi.

  ‘Talk to me Myna – say something!

  The Myna fluttered in the cage, perhaps to indicate to Lajwanti that she was alive.

  ‘I will give you water as soon as I get to the bus stop’.

  Urged by the heat spots on her feet where the torn soles of her chappals exposed her flesh, she hurried towards the shade of a solitary mango which stood a little way away from the Mehrauli-Gurgaon road.

  Once in the cool, she phewed several hot breaths, wiped the nape of her neck with the end of her head cloth, then forgetfully smudged her face with the soiled dupatta, licked her palate with her tongue, put down the cage of the Myna, and looked in the direction of Gurgaon.

  The dense heat mist enveloped everything. But, beyond the green grove of mangoes, half a mile ahead, she could see the outline of the old caravanserai.

  Quickly, she lifted the cage and went forward. She heard the echo as an augury that Jaswant would be hot on her trail, as soon as her mother-in-law realised that she, Lajwanti, had not returned from the well for more than two hours. And he had a bicycle.

  ‘Come then my little Myna, we shall soon be there...’

  The exalted bungalows of the police lines of Gurgaon, sequestered behind hedges, under tall trees, quenched the thirst of her eyes. The green leaves of neem trees were like cool sherbet to her spirit. And there seemed to be a confectioner’s shop where she might be able to drink a tumbler of whey and give the Myna a little feed and water.

  Somehow, the last lap of a foot journey is always the most arduous. Her legs seemed to drag along. And the burning on the exposed parts of her soles became unbearable. And the echo sound an augury about Jaswant catching up on her enveloped her mind. And she was nearly at the end of her tether. And yet she pushed forward, as though she was possessed by the demon of flight.

  There was a moment of weakening as the Myna became utterly still; and without looking to see, she felt that the bird might have fainted with the heat and died.

  And in the panic of this premonition, she felt the chords of guilt choke her dry throat: She might have borne the humiliation. She might have given in to Jaswant. She could have closed her eyes. Her husband Balwant was away at college. Her benevolent father-in-law would not have known. And the mother-in-law, who wanted son’s son, more than anything else, would not have worried, even if she had come to know, because she favoured Jaswant, who worked on the land and not Balwant who wanted to be a clerk.

  ‘Talk to me Myna don’t go away from me... If you go I too will be finished...’

  As the bird did not even flutter, her heart seemed to sink, and the sweat just poured down her body.

  ‘Maybe, I am being superstitious,’ she said to herself. ‘I should have done a magic ceremony on the crossroads of Hauz Khas to ensure my safe arrival in Pataudi. And, then God would have kept my enemies dispersed...‘

  Destiny spread the length of dumb distance before her, however. And, facing the emptiness, she felt as though the whole earth was opposed to her. And she wanted to kneel down before the Almighty for all the sins for which she was being punished.

  ‘Oh gently, gently, show me the path!’ she cried out in her soul.

  At that juncture, she heard the sinister shout of Jaswant: ‘Stop, mad woman, or I shall kill you!’

  She did not look back, because she knew the authentic accent of her brother-in-law’s voice. She merely ran, with the instinct to fly, to get away, out of his reach, to the group of men who were resting by the confectioner’s shop.

  The Myna fluttered its wings wildly. And now that it apprehended disaster, it shrieked and cried.

  ‘Stop... ‘The voice of doom repeated itself.

  Descending into the pit of confusion. Lajwanti was lost in the primal jungle of turmoil. The tortures of hell awaited her. But, perhaps she could make it.

  “Lajwanti,” Jaswant called in a more mellow voice.

  This startled her, weakened her, and made her regret she had not given in.

  She fairly ran, about twenty yards before the confectioner’s shop. Jaswant passed by her, on his bicycle. Then he descended and, putting the machine athwart, barred her way.

  Lajwanti conjured up in her downcast eyes the smile of horror that beamed on his heavy, pockmarked face.

  She swerved away and outflanked him by diving into the ditch and making for the confectioner’s shop from the side of the depression.

  He dragged the bicycle and raced up to her.

  After he had reached the confectioner’s shop, he dropped the machine and ran towards her with an enveloping movement.

  Lajwanti fell into his outstretched arms almost like a willing victim.

  But once she became aware of the hard embrace of the wild beast, she recoiled back, to free herself.

  Again she ran.

  Startled, he turned and chased her, catching, her by the headcloth before she could sit down on the wooden bench by the confectioner’s shop.

  Why did you run away?’ he asked. ‘Have you no shame? Look, folks...‘

  The straggling peasants looked nonchalantly at the scene, without coming any nearer. And three school boys came and stared.

  ‘Let me go – I want t
o go to my father’s house,’ Lajwanti said, without lifting her gaze to Jaswant.

  The Myna fluttered in the cage.

  ‘No, you are returning to your husband’s home!’ Jaswant ground the words. And he twisted her wrist as she tried to get out of his grasp.

  ‘Brute!’ she cried. And, without shedding any tears, she began to sob. ‘Leave me alone!... Let me give the Myna some water to drink...’

  The throttling growth of Jaswant’s bestiality gripped her young body and he shouted hoarsely: