The Boy

People think that Gangu is a Brahmin and he also considers himself one. While my syce and other servants courteously greet me, Gangu never does. He perhaps thinks that I should show him due respect. Maybe he expects me to genuflect before him. He never touches a glass I have used and I dare not ask him to fan me. When I’m sweating and no other servant is around, he himself picks up a hand fan. But he gives the impression that he is doing me a great favour and I don’t know why I quickly snatch the fan from his hands. He is short-tempered and can’t tolerate any impudence. He has few friends and considers it below his dignity to be seen in the company of other servants. I have never seen him hanging around with other servants. What is more surprising is that he is not even fond of the intoxicating bhang booti which is rather unusual among people of his class. I’ve never seen him praying or bathing in the river. He is illiterate, but nevertheless a Brahmin. He desires that the entire world should respect him and bow before him. And why shouldn’t he nurture such desires when even today people blindly claim their right over ancestral inheritance as if everything has been acquired by them. So why shouldn’t he claim the high regard and honour earned on account of his ancestry. This is his inheritance.

My nature is such that I rarely converse with my servants. I feel that they shouldn’t bother me until they are called. I don’t like to call them for odd jobs. I find it more convenient to pour water from the jug or light the lamp, put on my shoes or pick out a book from the shelf rather than shouting for Maiku or Hengan every now and then. It makes me feel more independent and self-reliant. My servants know my nature and they rarely approach me without a good reason. They usually come to borrow some money as a salary advance or to complain about others. I hate such habits. I pay all of them on the first of every month and lose my temper if they come asking for more money in the middle of the month. Who wants to bother about keeping the account of small sums. Moreover, if one has already been given salary for the full month, he has no right to splurge it in a fortnight and borrow money or depend on an advance. I hate bad-mouthing, I consider it a sign of weakness or a mean attempt to flatter somebody.

That’s why I didn’t like it when Gangu visited me early one morning. I frowned. ‘What’s the matter? I didn’t call you. Why have you come?’ Gangu’s usually arrogant face had such softness, humility, and reluctance that I was amazed. It appeared as if he wanted to say something but was groping for words. I said politely, ‘What’s the matter? Why don’t you speak up? You know I’m getting late for my morning walk.’

He said disappointedly, ‘Please go ahead. I will come later.’ This was all the more worrying. I was in a hurry and so he could have finished the whole story in a minute. He knew I didn’t have time to spare. On other occasions, the wretched fellow would waste my time for hours. Perhaps he thinks that my indulgence in reading or writing is of some importance but for me, the most difficult task is to silently reflect upon issues. While I’m doing the latter, Gangu thinks that I’m free. This is the time when he would come to bother me. I said ruthlessly, ‘Have you come for an advance? You know I don’t give it.’

‘No, Sarkar, I have never asked for an advance.’

‘Any complaints then? I hate complaints.’

‘Not at all, sir! I have never come with complaints.’

Gangu mustered up his courage. It looked as if he was gathering all his strength to take a plunge. He faltered, ‘Please relieve me. I won’t be able to serve you any more.’

It was for the first time that someone had approached me with such a request. My self-esteem took a beating. Why shouldn’t I have felt offended at such a request when I considered myself an epitome of kindness? I never abused my servants, and always tried to keep a check on my authority as the master of the house. I said harshly, ‘Well, what’s your problem?’

‘Huzoor, who can be more kind-hearted than you? But the circumstances are such that I can’t continue my present job lest something happens that might bring disrepute to your good name. I don’t want to tarnish your image.’

I was mystified. I became curious. Surrendering myself, I sat on a chair in the veranda and said, ‘You puzzle me. Why don’t you clearly say what’s the matter?’

Gangu said respectfully, ‘The problem is . . . that woman, Gomti Devi, who has just been kicked out of the vidhva ashram . . .’

He paused. I said impatiently, ‘Yes I know that she has been thrown out but how’s that related to your job?’

‘Babuji, I want to marry her,’ Gangu blurted out as if he wanted to unburden himself.

I was at a complete loss. This conventional Brahmin, who had no exposure to modern civilization, was going to marry a loose woman whom no gentleman would ever allow to enter his house. Gomti’s presence had upset the peaceful atmosphere of the locality. She had come to live in the vidhva ashram a couple of years ago. She had been married off three times by the employees of the ashram but each time she returned within a month or so. Things had gone so far that she had now been kicked out by the administrator of the ashram too. Since then, she had rented a room in the locality and had become an object of interest for all the rogues there.

Gangu’s simplicity annoyed me but I also felt sorry for him. When she had already walked out on three husbands, how long could she be expected to live with Gangu? Had his pockets been full, it would have been a different matter. She could have stayed with him for six months or a year. He is a blind fool. I don’t think they would be together even for a week.

‘Do you really know the story of her life?’ I warned him.

‘They’re just rumours. People have slandered her for nothing,’ Gangu said as if he had been an eyewitness to everything.

‘What do you mean? Has she not left her husbands?’

‘Not really, in fact, they deserted her. What else could she have done?’

‘How silly! Why does a man travel such a long distance to marry a woman and spend so much money on her? Is it just because he intends to abandon her later?’

‘Sir, a woman can’t live without love. She doesn’t merely need the basic necessities. She also longs for love. Those people might have thought that they have done a great favour by marrying a widow. They wanted her to completely surrender herself. Huzoor, the truth is, you have to give love to get love. Moreover, she is afflicted with a strange disease. She is under a spell. Occasionally she talks nonsense and faints thereafter.’

‘And you intend to marry this sick woman?’ I shook my head sceptically. ‘Mind you, your life will be full of bitterness.’

‘I feel my life will change for the better. The rest is the will of God,’ he said with the frenzy of a martyr.

‘So that’s your final decision?’ I asked to confirm.

‘Yes, huzoor!’

‘Then, I accept your resignation.’

I’m not a slave to hollow customs and meaningless conventions. But I thought it was unsafe to employ a man who was going to marry a debauched woman. People would spread all sorts of rumours. New problems may crop up. The police might also come for an inquiry. There might be legal complications too. It’s possible that there might be incidents of petty theft. Better to keep away from these problems.

He chased her as a hungry man would jump at a slice of bread. He didn’t really bother whether the bread was stale or tasteless. It was difficult to advise him to act in a more sensible manner. I felt it was safe if he left the job.

Five months passed by. Gangu had married Gomti and was living in a shack in the same mohalla. He earned his living by selling chaat. Whenever I happened to meet him in the market, I would ask him how he was doing. I had a peculiar interest in knowing about his personal life. I also wanted to examine an important social issue—an issue which was not only social but also psychological. I wanted to see what would ultimately happen. But I always found him contented. The grace and self-respect which results from a peaceful and prosperous life was evident on his face. He usually earned a rupee to twenty annas. After meeting his costs, he was able to save eight to ten annas. This was the only income that he had. But even this meagre income had some divine blessing because he seemed free from the disgrace and bankruptcy which one commonly finds among the people of his class. His face reflected the self-confidence and happiness which is possible only when your heart is contented.

Then one day I heard that Gomti had left Gangu. I don’t know why this news gave me a peculiar pleasure. I had always felt envious of his peaceful and problem-free life. I had always expected that something disastrous and utterly disgraceful would happen to him. So, this tragic news made me happy. I had been sure that this would happen. At last this man had to pay a price for being rash and impulsive. Now let’s see how he would face the social stigma. Now his eyes would open and he would realize that all those who were dissuading him from marrying Gomti were his true well-wishers. At that moment, he felt as if he was getting a rare opportunity. He felt as if the gateway to freedom had opened up for him. So many people insisted that he should never trust that woman as she had already betrayed other men. She would betray him too. But such words fell on deaf ears. Now I will see what he has to say in his defence. I will ask him, ‘Tell me, maharaja, are you really happy with this new blessing of Deviji? You used to say she has so many qualities and people accused her out of sheer malice. Now answer me, who has been proved wrong?’

By chance I met Gangu the same day in the market. He looked anxious, desperate and completely lost. Upon seeing me, tears came into his eyes, not out of shame but out of grief. I was actually delighted but pretended that I felt sorry for him. ‘I had already warned you but you did not listen to me. Now you have to bear it. There’s no other alternative for you. Has she run away with all your money or spared something for you?’ Gangu placed his hand on his chest. It appeared as if my question had pierced his heart.

‘Oh, Babuji, please don’t say that. She didn’t touch a thing. She has even left behind her own belongings. I don’t know what wickedness she saw in me. Perhaps I was not worthy of her, what else I can say? She was educated while I am illiterate. It’s enough that she lived with me for such a long time. If I could have spent a little more time with her, I would have been transformed into a noble man. How do I describe all her qualities to you? Huzoor, I don’t bother about what others have to say about her; for me, she was a divine blessing. I don’t know what mistake I have committed. But I swear that her face never had a trace of anger. Babuji, what is my status? I merely earn ten to twelve annas a day, but she would spend them so judiciously that we never fell short of money.’

These words disappointed me greatly. I had thought that he would narrate the story of her betrayal and I would sympathize with him for his blind love, but the fool’s eyes were still closed. He was still singing praises of her. It was certain that he was emotionally disturbed.

‘So, you mean to say that she hasn’t taken anything with her?’ I mocked him.

‘Nothing, Sarkar, nothing worth a penny.’

‘And she loved you too?’

‘How do I tell you that, Babuji? I will always remember her love.’

‘Still she left you?’

‘This is what is really shocking for me, Babuji.’

‘Have you ever heard that women are not trustworthy?’

‘Babuji, please don’t say that. I will admire her even if my own life is in danger.’

‘Then why don’t you go in search of her?’

‘Yes, malik, I won’t rest until I bring her back. Once I come to know where she is, I will certainly bring her back. I have a gut feeling that she will come back. Watch my words. Although she wasn’t angry with me, my heart is restless. For the next couple of months, I’ll visit far-off places in search of her. I’ll see you again if I’m still alive.’ Then he walked away in a frenzy. After this incident, I had to go to Nainital, not on an excursion but for some official work. I returned after a month and I had barely changed my clothes when I saw Gangu was standing before me with a newborn baby in his arms. Even Nanda could not have felt so much joy after the birth of Lord Krishna. He looked ecstatic. His face was full of gratitude and conviction. He had the expression on his face which appears on the face of a starving beggar after he has been fed to his heart’s content.

‘So, maharaja, any news of Gomti Devi?’ I asked. ‘I believe, you had gone in search of her.’

‘Yes, Babuji,’ he replied delightedly. ‘I found her with your blessings. She was in a maternity hospital in Lucknow. She had requested one of her friends to reveal it to me only if I got too worried about her. As soon as I got to know, I rushed to Lucknow and brought her back. Along with her, I have also been blessed with this child.’

He lifted the child closer to me and looked like a player who proudly displays a medal won by him.

‘Oh, I see, you’ve got a child too.’ I taunted. ‘Maybe that’s why she ran away from here. I hope this is your own child.’

‘Why mine alone? This is also your child. This is the child of God.’

‘So, he was born in Lucknow?’

‘Yes, Babuji, he’s just a month old.’

‘How long have you been married?’

‘It must be the seventh month.’

‘So, you mean to say that he was born after six months of your marriage?’

‘Of course, Babuji.’

‘Still you claim that he’s your child?’

‘Yes, sir!’

‘What nonsense!’

I’m not sure whether he understood what I meant or was feigning ignorance. Anyway, he continued speaking with the same honesty. ‘She narrowly escaped death, Babuji, and she has got a new life. For three days and three nights she suffered birth pangs.’

I said sarcastically, ‘This is for the first time that I’ve heard about a child being born after six months.’ This time, I was able to hit the mark.

He smiled and said, ‘Oh, I understand what you mean but this thought never came to my mind. It was this fear that had made Gomti run away. I had assured her that she was free to leave me. I would go away and never meet her again. I told her that she could inform me whenever she needed anything and I would try my best to help her. I’m not angry—in my eyes she is as respectable as ever, and I still love her as much as before. In fact, I love her even more now and have told her that if she still loves me, she can come with me. Gangu will never betray her. I did not marry her because she was a goddess but because I loved her and believed that she loved me too. This is my child, my very own. I chose to possess a field that had already been sown. Should I leave the crop just because it was cultivated by someone else?’ He burst into laughter.

I forgot to change my clothes. I can’t say why my eyes brimmed with tears. I don’t know what strange power crushed the deep hatred in my heart, and I stretched out my hands towards that innocent child, kissed him with love that was much more intense than what I’d ever bestowed on my own children.

Gangu said, ‘Babuji, you’re such a thorough gentleman! I often tell Gomti how good you are. I’ve been asking her to come and pay you a visit but she is ever so shy.’

Me, a gentleman! Today I realized that my niceness was a facade. I said, ‘Not at all, why should she visit a mean fellow like me? I’ll rather go to meet her. Do you really think I am a gentleman? I may look like one but I’m really very mean. You’re a true gentleman and this child is the proof of your greatness.’

I hugged the child close to my heart and walked away with Gangu.

Translated from the Hindi by Asmat Jahan