Life Fouled Up And Doomed: English Short Story; Author: Deepak Budki; Translator: Jawahar Lal Bhat

Life Fouled Up And Doomed; English Short Story

 Author: Deepak Budki

 Translator: Jawahar Lal Bhat

Old Samuel stepped out of an auto-rickshaw near Link Road and walked a few steps with the help of a stick. He looked around desperately for some time trying to gather and cobble together his past life which he had spent merrily in this place. He moved slowly to the edge of the road and sat on a big boulder which had been lying there since times immemorial.

Today he had come here with a specific purpose and that was to recapitulate some of his old sweet memories of a wasted life. A network of wrinkles on his face spoke volumes about his mental turbulence and repentance. The main cause of his worry was the desolation of life at a time when he could hear the footfall of the approaching death. Day in and day out the void in his life was widening while he found himself surrounded by strangers. He could neither confide in anyone nor feel at ease with them. During the good old days, he hated the very idea of keeping a cow at home as milk was freely available in the market but now loneliness was bugging him all the time. In his youth, he was extraordinarily social and enjoyed the company of a large number of friends but now they maintained a distance from him on one pretext or the other, especially being busy with their own family matters. All that remained for Samuel was his own self and the four walls of his room where he was forced to spend the rest of his life and count the remaining hours!

He had recently returned from the metropolis of Mumbai, penitent and remorseful, as it had not suited him. That metropolitan city was full of strange faces who seemed to be wearing masks all the time to hide their reality and deceive people. Deception, at every step, at every turn, and at every crossroad! The maddening rush of people can be seen everywhere, men and women rubbing shoulders with each other in streets, in markets, in buses, and in local trains! Instead of joy and happiness, they share viruses and bacteria through an exchange of breath while standing close to each other in buses, trains and roadside eateries eating Pav-Bhaji or ice cream. Samuel had often wondered what was it that attracted him to this city leaving behind everything and here he had to face only failure and no success. 

Nevertheless, he had now returned permanently to his own town to spend the last days of his life. After spending so many precious years in Mumbai he had mentally drawn a balance sheet of his life out of curiosity and found neither assets nor liabilities mentioned in it. Whatever little he had laid aside evaporated like ether during the past year. Of late he was compelled to sell even his one-room dwelling in this town which he had inherited.

Sitting on the large boulder by the roadside, he intently watched the place where once stood graceful 'Leonard Fuelling Station'. He used to work at this station as a delivery boy since his early youth filling petrol and diesel in different types of vehicles. Those were the happiest days of his life. Unfortunately, the station was closed and dismantled by the highway development authorities after a few years with the aim to ease the movement of increasing traffic on the highway. A link road passing through the Petrol pump was constructed which connected with the highway five kilometres ahead. A strange thing happened as part of the road where vehicles used to stop in front of fuel dispensers for getting refuelled and believed to be impeding the free flow of traffic on the highway did not come under the line of demolition and therefore the petrol station pumps still stand there as a reminder of their past. However, they present quite a miserable sight now covered all over by a thick layer of dust. Though these were abandoned a long time ago, they speak volumes about what they had to undergo during their lives.

Samuel watched the fuel dispensers continuously for some time trying to trace back his own past life. There appeared a strange similarity between him and these deserted dispensers. He remembered a big signboard hanging in the background saying, 'Customer satisfaction is our goal'. While recollecting his past he associated with it all these leftovers, and a feeble smile gradually appeared on his face. Both the petrol station and his life were things of the past, everything had changed full circle.

He revisited the long-forgotten scenes at the petrol pump which came to life before him. Different types of vehicles, of varied make and model, used to drive in one after another other and stop near the petrol dispenser to get their tanks filled up. He would remove the lid of the tank instantly, put the fuel nozzle in, allow fuel to flow, and then wait for the tank to get topped up. After payments were received, the vehicles would simply dash off and disappear from the scene. This was his daily routine. Cars, buses, trucks, scooters and motorcycles would speed in and speed out while he would be left staring at them. The drivers,  both men and women, handsome and ugly, focused their attention on the fuel dispenser and no one gave even lowly attention to his robust athletic body. Rarely when there was a traffic jam or stoppage of vehicle movement due to civil commotion he had to keep waiting for long hours for normalcy to be restored. That was the opportune time for him to contemplate his own future. On such occasions, he would feel that his existence had been reduced to nought resulting in self-abnegation and self-hatred.

Samuel recollected how he had been appointed to the job at a very early age without any educational or technical qualifications. Since the work was not complex, he picked up its trivialities easily after facing some difficulty in the beginning and soon performed his job to the satisfaction of his employer. It was fortunate for him that a priest of a nearby church was happy with his playing guitar and used to call him occasionally for community events. The priest had taken pity on his poverty and recommended him for an appointment at the petrol station owned by a Christian. Samuel was on cloud nine when he heard the news from the Pastor and rushed back to his home in extreme delight.

To tell you something about his home may be interesting. It was just a large room in a slum area on the outskirts of the city which was left for him by his mother when she passed away a few years back. The room was used for all functions, sleeping, sitting cooking, eating and the rest. For excreting and bathing a common community toilet and a common bathroom adjacent to the colony were available. His mother had brought him up after picking him up at the age of two from an orphanage.

Unfortunately, Samuel developed a feeling that his life was getting wasted, so he wanted a change. He had no educational background whatsoever which could get him a job. The only thing he possessed was an athletic body and a handsome personality. Even reputed models would feel ashamed after seeing his sturdy and well-proportioned body. So he gathered his courage and decided to go to Mumbai to try his luck there. The next day he boarded the train to Mumbai.

As is usual with all newcomers in the city, he too had to face a lot of failures but he withstood them one by one. The pangs of hunger teased him the most. However, his Christian background and expertise in guitar helped him get work as a model for cigarettes and other minor newspaper ads. But that was not sufficient in a costly city like Mumbai. So day after day a strange feeling of helplessness and despair disturbed him and as a result, his courage broke down.

One day after coming out from the office of Globe Advertisers, Samuel was walking aimlessly on the Marine Drive swept over by thoughts of his distress and extreme desperation. The crimson colour of the horizon blended with the vast grey waters of the sea and presented a delightful scene no less intoxicating than a blush on the face of a voluptuous village belle. Only a few minutes earlier lights on the bounds of Marine Drive had been lit up and as usual, the atmosphere looked deeply romantic. After walking some distance immersed in deep thoughts he felt fatigued and in order to take a little rest, he stood against an electric pole. Suddenly he was aroused from his reverie when a speeding Mercedes stopped suddenly in front of him with a loud screech. He looked around to find out why the car had stopped though he could not see any petrol dispenser, Manager's cabin or a nozzle to fill petrol anywhere nearby. Instantly the door of the car opened and a pretty lady who was driving the car looked at him and signaled Samuel to come near and sit in her car. He looked around to find out whom she was signaling but there was nobody present except him. On being signalled again, he gestured with amazement to ensure that she was calling him. In response, she signalled back emphatically to let him know that she was truly entreating him and none else.  He waited a while, pulled himself together, and then sheepishly jumped into her car.

Shirin pulled together her dishevelled saree and said with a soft smile on her lips, “How are you?” 

Samuel was at a loss to understand how an unknown woman could call him in this fashion and let him sit with her in the car. Unconcerned, Shirin drove on without seeking his permission! He took a long breath and replied after a while. “I’m fine!”

Shirin was a woman in her early thirties with a yellowish-white complexion and a fleshy body. Shapely arms, trimmed fragrant hair flowing up to shoulders, long earrings, polished arc-tipped nails and light crimson painted curved soft lips.  She was wearing a well-set pink saree with a matching low-cut sleeveless blouse revealing the curves of her breasts and hairless armpits. Out of curiosity, Samuel’s eyes tried to have a glimpse of the breasts but he consciously brought them down instantly. Shirin watched him obliquely and felt gratified yet didn’t utter a word. The entire distance was covered in silence. At last, Shirin pulled up in the porch of a magnificent bungalow and then addressed Samuel, “Come on, let us get in, it is my house.”

Samuel tarried a while and looked around to see where he was. He could not believe his eyes when he saw the grandeur of the building he was invited to enter. Though reluctantly he moved his steps forward and followed Shirin who led him directly into her bedroom. She requested him to sit on the sofa available in the room. Meanwhile, Shirin opened her wine cabinet and filled two glasses of whiskey, one of them she presented to Samuel and another she held in her own hand. She also placed some snacks in quarter plates before him like cashew nuts, almonds and walnuts. While Samuel started taking sips of whiskey, Shirin went into the adjoining washroom to refresh herself and then dressed elegantly. After a few minutes, she returned wearing her translucent nightgown in which she looked like a fairy. She had also made some changes in her make-up to suit the occasion. She sat very close to Samuel, tossed her glass with his and said 'cheers' loudly and after some time both of them were engaged in kissing and lovemaking which went on for the greater part of the night.

In the morning tired Samuel woke up very late and almost jumped out of the heavily creased bed but to his surprise found Shirin had already left for her office. The maid came in and handed him over an envelope left by Shirin besides calling him for breakfast in the dining room. There was a letter in the envelope which read:

“I didn't like to disturb you while you were fast asleep. You seemed to have got tired during the night. I’m going to my office. I’ve placed ten thousand rupees under the pillow for you. Also instructed my maid to serve you breakfast before you leave. Wish to meet over again next Saturday!”

Samuel was immensely surprised. He thrust the notes into his pocket, washed his face quickly to get fresh and departed after having breakfast. On his way back he thought what a nice encounter did he experience -- ten thousand for just a single night. And there it started. Subsequently, a number of such dreamy nights followed. The idea that satiated him most was his athletic body had ultimately paid off.  He used to meet Shirin on Saturdays only. Slowly greed overpowered him and he started casting his net further into the murky waters. With the passing days, his needs also increased. On the other hand, Shirin got weary of him after a few months, found a substitute instead, and started avoiding him completely. As regards his profession he failed to find good and reputed firms for modelling assignments on a regular basis. All that he got was some occasional calls from advertisers for some betel, pan masala and cigarette companies which could hardly sustain him.

On the contrary, his new adventures were gaining ground. Almost every night he got a new companion, a new feeling and a new experience accompanied by hefty sums of money. What else would he crave? In such circumstances when money is raining one tends not to bother about one's future. Samuel seemed to go on with his present style of life quite satisfied not knowing what was lying in store for him in the future. However, one thing that he did not miss was attending the Church every Sunday to pay obeisance to the Lord. 

Suddenly one day a severe earthquake rocked his life. He was down with a high fever for several days and therefore went to the Christian Charity Hospital for treatment. He had to undergo a number of clinical tests and at last, the doctors delivered him the grievous news that he had tested positive for HIV. He felt as if the roof of the hospital had come crashing down upon him. He had to stay indoors in the hospital for many days and take costly imported medicines besides undertaking further tests till his fever subsided. Thereupon the doctor wrote some different medicines and discharged him from the hospital. By the time he had spent everything he had set aside for the rainy days.

The world seemed to have got dark for him once he came out of the hospital. Living in Mumbai was out of the question. So the next thing he did was buy railway tickets and go back to his own small town. The same evening he left the city and after reaching his town went direct to his room. Within a few days of his stay in the hometown, his friends and neighbours came to know that he had contracted AIDS which compelled him to return. All of them preferred to keep a distance from him. He felt lonely and abandoned. After staying in his house for some time he finally decided to sell it and get admitted to an AIDS shelter for the rest of his life.

Since then Samuel stays there in the AIDS shelter counting the last days of his life. He knows that nobody gets cured of this dreadful disease. Still, he felt assured by the words of the local priest who told him once that Christ had sacrificed himself for the sake of sinners like us.

Samuel knows his death is imminent and not many days are left now. He reads Bible daily in the morning as well as in the evening and prays to God to grant him peaceful death, forgive him for his sins and spare him from the torture of Hell. 

He is unable to sleep nowadays. The whole of the night he keeps thinking about each and every moment of his past. While reminiscing about his past, yesternight he thought of the Petrol Pump where he had worked long ago as a delivery boy on his first job. Those were the happiest days of his life. He wanted to relive those moments before his departure from the world. So he went out of the Shelter, hired a rickshaw, and got down at the place where many years ago stood a Petrol Pump which still had some remnants left. He sat on the boulder in an effort to relive his good old past looking intently at the deserted Petrol Pump.

 

*****

God Who Emerged Out Of Earth; English Short Story; Author: Deepak Budki; Translator: Jawahar Lal Bhat

 God Who Emerged Out Of Earth;

 English Short Story; Author: Deepak Budki

 Translator: Jawahar Lal Bhat

After the return from a morning walk, he sat in a cane chair in his garden waiting for the morning tea. Suddenly he caught sight of a phallus-like object resembling the Shiv-Linga lying under a peepal tree nearby. He was astonished and couldn't believe his own eyes. Enthusiastically he called out for his wife in a loud voice, “Shobha, Shobha, come here, see what’s there under this tree!”

He could not meanwhile make out whence this brass Shiv-Linga had come from!

Soon an elderly woman, who had almost all her hair turned grey, appeared before him and asked, “What’s it? Why are you shouting? Have you spotted any snake or is it something else?”

“Come on dear, had it been a snake, I’d never have called you. Look what’s there under that tree?”

She curiously approached the tree and gingerly picked up the Shiv-Linga in her hand where after she began to examine it closely. “Oh Lord, it is truly a brass Shiv-Linga. We have been blessed! Don't you think it is a mystery? Where has it come from?”

“Who knows? Someone may have thrown it there!”

“What rubbish are you talking about? Who would dare to commit such a sin? I apprehend our daughter-in-law must have carried out some black magic in order to harm us.”

“Hey, don't speculate too much? Icons and images of Gods are not used for Black magic. They use bones of animals and skulls of the dead.”

“Then it has surely sprung up from under the earth but there are no signs of a fissure or cleft anywhere around.”

“It is certainly a mystery, who knows how it has appeared here? Only Almighty God above is the knower of the truth!”

Shobha, with great veneration and admiration, cleaned the soil accumulated over the idol with the end of her saree and then washed it thoroughly under the tap. She picked some flowers from the garden and performed a formal puja of the Shiv-Linga along with a recitation of some sacred mantras but the mystery wherefrom it had emerged in their garden remained alive forever in the minds of the couple.

In the meantime, the clock struck nine. Revti Lal Aggarwal had a quick bath, changed his clothes, lifted his walking stick and entered the drawing room.

“Get me my breakfast quick. I’ve to attend court. It is the hearing of our case today!” Revti Lal addressed his wife, “God knows how many bad deeds of my previous birth still haunts me! I continue to pay the price in this life. I regret the day when Sunder was married. From the very first day, our daughter-in-law stepped into this house trouble started. She had in fact come up with a plan to snatch our son from us and live separately but she couldn't succeed. Left with no choice she approached the court with various false allegations against us such as harassment, the demand for dowry, and domestic violence besides seeking divorce, alimony, and maintenance allowance. 

“That was the will of God! We had made so many inquiries about the girl at our level and her family before marriage. Unfortunately, it spoiled the life of our son, Sunder, who has become a patient of depression and gastric trouble. Now, at this ripe age of seventy, it is very difficult for me to attend the never-ending court proceedings.”

“Leave it dear. No use repeating this over and over again. Be careful on that busy road leading to the court, it is always full of traffic. I pray to Lord Shiva for a speedy dismissal of the case in our favour. God always stands with the truth. It is said, “God sees the truth but waits.”

Revti Lal picked up his walking stick and left the house with slow but measured steps.

For the whole day, Shobha remained fully immersed in the enigma of the appearance of the mysterious Shiv-Linga in the garden. Gradually she felt convinced that it must have emerged from the Earth and the ground must have levelled later on. She exclaimed with a sigh, “Strange are the ways of God!”

In the afternoon, at about two o'clock, Revti Lal returned home. His condition had grown miserable with thirst and hunger, nevertheless, he seemed beaming with joy. No sooner had he entered the house than he called Shobha and delivered her the tidings.

“Shobha, I have great news for you. Today the court delivered judgment in our favour and in addition imposed a penalty of twenty thousand rupees on the petitioner for undue harassment and putting us to trouble for no fault of ours. Moreover, if the Petitioner does not deposit the said amount in the court within two months he is liable to be put behind bars for two months.”

“O God, Your bounties are boundless! I bow before Your illustriousness!" Shobha almost cried, "Didn't I tell you that something good is certainly going to happen today? God has Himself appeared in our garden, that too early in the morning, it’s a miracle performed by Him. Let us wish for much more to come!"

“I also feel like that. To tell you the truth I had lost all hope in this case and was really fed up. Didn't know a way out. Now God has in fact appeared in our home to save us from this trouble.”

“Now listen, we need to acknowledge His blessings and perform our duty to reciprocate. We must arrange for the formal installation of the idol at the same place where it had popped up. I suggest that we construct a small private temple there. I believe it is the wish of God and we must fulfil it.”

“You are absolutely right! I’ll call a mason tomorrow and order the construction of a small temple. It has actually been a long-time requirement in our house. We don’t have any particular place for offering prayers to the Lord in the house.

The next day they searched for an auspicious date in the almanack. An order for the construction of a small temple under the peepal tree was also given. It dawned upon Revti Lal that the Shiv-Linga found at the place was too small compared to the size of the proposed temple. So he decided to purchase a large marble idol of Lord Shiva from the market and install it along with the little Shiv-Linga. Soon a beautiful white idol was purchased and kept ready for installation.

The auspicious time for the formal installation of the idol was fixed at three o'clock on the coming Sunday. Meanwhile, the temple was also made ready. A couple of Pundits were arranged for performing Havana, chanting of mantras and formal installation of the Shiv-Linga. Invitations were also sent to near relatives and neighbours to participate in the celebrations and have Prasad on the occasion.

Shoba decided to invite close neighbours in person because she thought it proper to inform them about the sudden appearance of the Lord in their house and the subsequent developments in the court case.

Early Sunday morning, Shoba called on at our house to invite us. I was having my breakfast. She came in and addressed my wife, “Daughter dear, it is a matter of great delight that God Himself has appeared in our house in the form of a Shiv-Linga. We’ve planned the formal installation of this sacred idol of Shiva today at three o'clock in a newly built temple in our garden. Both of you are invited to participate. The function will start with the recitation of Mantras and Havana at one o'clock accompanied by Bhajan and Keertan. In the end, Prasad will be distributed in the form of a simple meal. 

Archana, my wife, was greatly excited to hear this great news and felt like rushing instantly to see the God that had appeared so miraculously in her neighbourhood.

“Okay Auntie, I’ll surely come but it may not be possible for my husband to come. He has to attend a party in his office." She willfully fabricated the story of a party because she knew her husband doesn't believe in such things and would therefore not attend.”

The program was to start at one o'clock. Archana readied my lunch beforehand at twelve noon, dressed in the best of her clothes, and went to her neighbour’s house. I laughed from within for her superstitious beliefs and later took my meals in the dining room at 1.30 PM as usual. Thereafter I went to take a rest in my bedroom.

Archana returned at about 5 PM. She was very much charged up. It looked like she would bash any person whosoever faced her at that moment. As I felt her agitated temper I thought it better not to confront her. She however didn’t remain calm and almost shouted at me, “Go and see the result of your insane actions!”

“I do not understand you. What do you want to say?”

“That Shiv-Linga you had thrown out of the window in your frenzy had fallen near a tree in the Aggarwal’s garden. They thought it had emerged out of the ground."

I wanted to burst out with a hearty laugh but Archana was fuming with such intense anger that I preferred to remain calm.

A few days before, I had lost my temper badly on observing Archana’s superstitious attitude. In fact, my disbelief in unreasonable religious matters is no less than the extent of her irrational belief in religious superstitions. Her frequent directives regarding her obnoxious beliefs are very irksome to me.

“Today is your birthday, wear the sacred thread and put on the vermillion on your forehead.”

“It is Shiv-Ratri, your presence in night-long Puja is important.”

“I had prayed for your promotion. Now that God has fulfilled my wish, we must perform a Havan on the sacred day of Ashtami.”

I don’t know how I could bear with these idiosyncrasies for more than fifteen years of our married life in spite of her mind-boggling irrational beliefs. She had been overshadowing my thoughts and beliefs to such an extent that living life on my own terms was becoming impossible for me. My daily routine was so much influenced by her superstitious attitude that making a compromise seemed very hard for me. Her new activity that troubled me most was her visiting some imposter Swamis and false soothsayers and wasting money on them.    

I had been facing this trouble for a long time patiently but that day my anger crossed all limits and suddenly I caught hold of the Shiv-Linga in her kitchen almirah and threw it out of the window to a far-off unknown location. She was stunned by my action and her face turned red. She didn’t expect me to take such an extremely sacrilegious step. I don’t know what she was saying but she had been vocal for some time in her anger. She was shaken suddenly and a stream of tears rolled down her eyes. She went into her room and continued sobbing for a long time till she consoled herself but the wound of her shock didn’t die away before long.

Later in the evening when we sat at the dining table for dinner, she couldn’t control herself and said, “Do you know what was the result of your foolish action?” 

“What was the result? Let me also know!” I replied feigning keenness and deep astonishment.

“Perhaps you know the daughter-in-law of Aggarwal’s had filed a false suit in the court of law accusing them of harassment and demand for dowry and it had been going on for a long time. How these poor old people suffered, one cannot even imagine. Remember you had thrown the Shiv-Linga out of the window a few days back! It had fallen in their garden. The same day the case was decided in their favour and the litigant was also fined twenty thousand rupees as costs payable to them.”

“Oh, is it so. I was wondering why you were so furious when you returned from their house.”

“You take everything lightly. That poor old couple can't even imagine that the Shiv-Linga had been thrown into their garden by my frenzied husband. They firmly believe it has erupted from the earth due to the blessings of the Lord.” 

“Why didn’t you tell them the truth? They would at least know the facts. Otherwise, they will always be in a false impression that God had appeared to them by breaking open the earth.”  

“You and your reasoning, to hell with it. Their joy knows no bounds. They have purchased a large marble idol of Lord Shiva and installed it in the newly constructed temple along with the little Shiv-Linga. They got a small temple constructed and arranged for a Havan and a Bhoj. God not only appeared before them but also blessed them with large booty immediately. Sometimes one is benefitted enormously by withdrawing from the real world and surrendering to God Almighty. Do you think I should have gone out of my mind to snatch their joys from them?”

“Ah, dear! I think they have done wrong by confining the idol to one place. It has been here in our house for almost fifteen years now. It has not even bestowed us with a hundred rupee note. I shook it and threw it some distance away and it benefited them by twenty thousand. They should throw it further away into some other's house so that the people there would also be benefitted by another twenty thousand.” While uttering these words I couldn’t control my laughter.

“You need to definitely consult a psychiatrist. I feel your mental capacity has been affected.”

“Okay, fine! Let us go together. I feel you require the doctor’s consultation more than me.”

Nothing happened thereafter. None of us consulted a psychiatrist. But each one of us believed that only he or she is on the right path.

However, I must confess one thing. From that day onwards God neither performed any other miracle nor was such news received from anywhere.

 

*****

Burden Of A School Bag; English Short Story; Author: Deepak Budki; Translator: Jawahar Lal Bhat.

Burden Of A School Bag; English Short Story

 Author: Deepak Budki

 Translator: Jawahar Lal Bhat.

“Papa, just help me. Carry this bag for a while, it’s too heavy!”

Shaista handed me her school bag while she caught the hand of her mother. That day we had gone to pick her up from school ourselves; otherwise, she used to travel on the school bus which would drop her, as a routine, at our gate. I took her school bag, it was so heavy that it hurt my shoulders and before we reached our car in the parking lot I had many a time to change shoulders to share its burden. Instantly I began to reflect on how hard it must be for Shaista to lift such a heavy bag daily to and from her school. I also felt guilty that my busy business schedule does not allow me to look into other essential aspects of my life!

I suddenly reminisced about the time when our country was freed from British rule and my khadi-clad father had felt ecstatic about the prospects of freedom. He had retired as a Headmaster of a Government School not long ago and I often heard him say that this country needs new ideas and fresh thinking. He also used to say, “Lord Macaulay forced his own language on this country and encouraged raising an army of white-collared English-knowing clerks such that the rule of the British is fortified for all times to come in this country and Indians are deprived of their own culture and civilization.” He was really fortunate not to live long to witness the disaster brought about by the evil deeds of post-independence leaders. Immediately after riding saddles of power, the selfish Indian politicians engaged themselves in the worst-ever acts of corruption and nepotism to fill their private coffers. They initiated no major change in our educational system. Everything moved on the same track the British legacy had left. The elite continued to educate their children in Christian missionary and Public schools. They would never like those similar facilities as are enjoyed by their children in these educational institutions should be shared by the common people? The condition of Government Schools, where children of common people were compelled to study, instead of improving continued to deteriorate day by day.

As a consequence, almost all posts of crucial decision-making and other key positions in government were held by the alumni of such elite schools and colleges while the products of Government schools were prevented from occupying higher positions and had to be content with lower ranks. These copycats of British governance with elitist education occupied almost all important posts and positions. A number of Education Commissions were instituted after independence and several reports were submitted but all of them were wilfully shelved and no recommendations were ever implemented. Many conferences and seminars for improvement of the educational system in India were held but no substantial change was seen on the ground and the British educational system remains almost unchanged.

On reaching home, I opened the school bag of my daughter and was surprised to see that for a ninth class student it contained unusually a huge number of books and notebooks. On being asked she counted the names of about a dozen subjects she was required to study.

“Do you study all these subjects daily? Besides, why two notebooks for each subject?” I inquired.

“Papa, one is for school work and the other one for homework” she replied, “Ma’am has ordered us to carry all the books and notebooks to school daily.”

Shaista could not understand why her father was making so many inquiries and asking such strange questions for the first time. Earlier he wouldn't even know in which class was his daughter studying.

“Oh God, Have mercy on these children of today!” suddenly a prayer burst out from my heart!  “This generation is buried under a load of books! They’ve no time for sports or games. Even if they find some spare time they spend it in closed rooms on computers or playing video games!” 

“The school fees of Shaista is overdue, they’ve written a note in her diary twice.” Nayla, her mother who had taken full educational responsibility of Shaista upon herself, burst out in between, “Write a cheque for thirty-six thousand rupees and I’ll go tomorrow to deposit it in her school.

“Thirty-six thousand.....! ”

“Yes, Thirty-six thousand.....; education is not given for free. You are never bothered about her requirements, how will you know? Admission fees....uniforms....books and so on and so forth!! Did you ever show concern about all these things? At the time of admission, they took a huge amount of one lakh and fifty thousand. Besides, they charge a monthly fee of six thousand. Now her fee for the next six months is due for payment.”

“Looks like money is worth nothing now. I feel we were better off, getting free education in Government schools. In order to spread literacy Maharaja of Kashmir had opened compulsory schools both for boys and girls in our State where children were forcibly educated free of cost. They nicknamed them 'Jabri Schools'. I remember the Indian Red Cross Society had arranged to distribute free milk powder to children once a week. People would use that milk for making salt tea in their homes. The standard of Education was very good. The teachers would teach with great dedication and a spirit of sacrifice. Many of my classmates are holding high positions in government departments and private establishments too. Some are Doctors and Engineers in many foreign countries.”

“You are talking of good old days. The times were quite different then. Things have changed entirely now. Getting children admitted to good schools has turned out to be the most difficult job. Sometimes recommendations of Ministers are sought for the purpose,” replied Nayla.

“Papa, people in our schools have actually turned mad. They say learning three languages simultaneously is essential. What’s the fun of learning so many languages?” Shaista interrupted to vocalize her inner voice!

“There’s no harm in learning more languages, it may benefit you in the future!” my inner scholar burst out.

“What Dad, you too speak like those sadists! I’m a science student, not a linguist. I’ve nothing to do with these languages. It’s only the English language that will help me. Science and technology, Internet, international relations and communication can be reached only through the English language.”

“You’ll have to pass in two other languages too besides English, that’s what the order of the Government says,” I counselled.

“I’ll get through them somehow. Where are the teachers to teach all these languages? Nowhere! Whatever language teachers we have in the school, they help students in the examinations. They know their own jobs are dependent on the pass percentage of students ultimately.”

It was really amusing for me that this little girl had laid bare a major truth. A few days ago I had come across a newspaper report saying that in UP schools sixty per cent of the posts of language teachers are vacant. How different languages are taught in these schools could be anybody's guess.

Soon Shaista went into her room while Nayla made her way to the kitchen.

I continued sitting in the Drawing room absorbed deeply in the thoughts of our present complicated life. Suddenly I recalled a report of an important educational conference that had been held some time back and reported widely in the press. Renowned educationists and experts from all over the country had expressed their views on the changes that were felt indispensable in the school curriculum due to changed circumstances. Expert environmentalists had stressed that Environment as a subject should invariably be included in the school syllabus given the deteriorating condition of the environment around. Expert biologists had expressed concern over the decreasing number of wild animals, birds, trees, plants and greenery in the world had an adverse effect on the quality of the global ecosystem. Accordingly, they emphasized that Biology should be included in the school curriculum. Experts in computer technology had stressed the need for Computer Education as an essential subject in schools as it provides the first and foremost technological support to all modern life and guarantees our future progress.

The most hotly debated issue at the conference was the selection of the main language in which education was to be imparted in Indian schools. Those who believed in Gandhian thought had argued that children should be taught only in their mother tongue while the liberal intellectuals were in favor of English as a medium of instruction. The Hindi protagonists had advocated that Hindi is the national language and should be the natural choice for teaching at all levels. Besides Hindi, Sanskrit should not be ignored so that our traditional Indian culture is adequately transmitted to successive generations. On the contrary, the experts in regional languages argued in favour of their respective regional languages. Evidently, there was no consensus on this vital issue. It looked like India would be balkanized if all these suggestions are taken care of.

The clock kept on ticking as time went by, nobody noticed how! Shaista completed her Engineering degree and subsequently managed her admission to MS Biotechnology in a German University through the Internet. She also arranged for her expenses by qualifying for a scholarship and a loan from Bank. The amazing thing about this whole adventure was that she didn’t at any time seek my assistance anywhere except that I had to stand as her guarantor. I asked myself how could an ordinary trader, who remained busy round the clock about the rise and fall in prices at the wholesale market, have helped her in following up an ambitious career like this in today's busy world. In fact, I was quite unaware of how swiftly time had gone ahead and the world of technology progressed at an unimaginable speed leaving us far behind. I felt like a frog in the well that imagines itself to be aware of the movement of each rising tide of the ocean. People like me know only to warn and caution our children against any step they want to take independently little knowing that we are ourselves ignorant of the world we live in.

Shaista contacted us daily from Germany through e-mail and informed us about her daily engagements. After her stay there for a few months, one of her messages read that the three languages learned by her were of no use to her. Everything was taught in the German language so it was essential for her to learn German. She had somehow learned German and was doing well in her studies.

In another message, she wrote, “The educational system here is quite different. The school bags of children here are not heavy. They do not carry a load of undesirable books daily. The days pass imperceptibly. My life here seems to swing only between my classroom and the library.”

She messaged further,” To compensate for my finances I serve as a waitress in a restaurant for some hours in the evening as I often get worried about the repayment of my bank loan.”

After reading her messages I was put into deep thought many a time. “My daughter serving as a waitress in a restaurant...! It pained me deeply that she had to toil hard day and night to make a successful career for herself.  They say people go to Western countries to earn lots of money but they do not know how hard they have to toil for it. 

Shaista completed her education and got a job in a German company manufacturing artificial human organs. There she worked with a unit that produced human cardiac valves! The job was challenging but she was assured of a bright future. On the other hand, it also meant that her chances to return home were quite bleak now. We gradually began to reconcile with this fact too. 

She continued her struggle with her loneliness and financial hardships for some time more till she got associated with one of her colleagues who too likewise had emigrated from Karachi and was struggling there for a successful life. They soon became friends and began living together as live-in partners in rented accommodations to save money and to ensure better security in an alien country far away from their home. I came to know about it only when both of them visited India during the Christmas holidays and asked for our permission to get married. Evidently, it was just the fulfilment of a formality because they had already consented to each other. I and Nayla looked at them and had an instant feeling that they were truly made for each other --- such a marvellous pair they looked!!  

Kashif stayed in a hotel while Shaista remained with us. In a few days, they were formally married at a simple but graceful function which was attended by Kashif’s parents besides some of his nearest relatives who came all the way from across the border. There seemed a strange similarity in our customs and ways of treating each other. No traces of any difference were found between us, we were from this side of the border and they were from the other. Same dress, same attitude, same manners and same food choices --- just an artificial borderline separated us from each other.

After being formally married, Kashif and Shaista soon left for Germany. We went to see them off at the airport and at the time they took leave we both were overwhelmed by a terrible gush of emotions and a stream of tears flowed down from our eyes. It also reckoned Shaista had parted from us forever with no hope of her return to India.  

Though our daily contact with Shaista continued regularly on the Internet through E-mails and phone calls day after day our loneliness was more irritating. Every passing day made her absence more painful than before. With advancing age, I and Nayla felt our interest in life diminishing. Occasionally she would gaze at me with vacant eyes as if telling me in a very apprehensive tone, “Listen to me and take my word for it--- the days of my life are numbered now and you’ll remain alone. Who’ll look after you once I am not there? How will you live after I’m gone?” 

On such occasions, I saw through the language of her heart clearly and my silence responded, “Nayla, all your life you yourself carried the burden of the school bag in the shape of humans like me and Shaista and never gave us an occasion to complain. Now if something happens to me and I respond to a sudden call from above, who’ll carry your burden? Shaista won’t come. She is not alone. She has now shouldered her own burden. She has her husband, her son and two school-going daughters. How would she come leaving them alone?”

We never wish for a long life for each other but pray earnestly to the almighty God, “O God, if there’s any good deed at credit in our accounts maintained by You, we wish You very kindly call us both together at the same time!”

 

*****

Adhoore Chehre;अधूरे चेहरे ; HindiKahani; Short Story; कहानी

Adhoore Chehre;अधूरे चेहरे 

 HindiKahani; Short Story; कहानी 

 

Dumb Caretaker: English Short Story; Author: Deepak Budki; Translator: Jawahar Lal Bhat

 Dumb Caretaker: English Short Story

 Author: Deepak Budki

Translator: Jawahar Lal Bhat

He was the caretaker of the guest house for a long, more than a decade and a half before the British left. Scrupulously truthful, virtuous, sincere, god-fearing and clean-hearted, he always wore spotless clean clothes. It was for these attributes of character that Ramzan Joo was recruited as a caretaker of this guest house by a kind-hearted British officer back in 1930 in spite of his disability. He was dumb -- unable to speak. Those days British had an upper hand in all matters though Maharaja ruled the state.

Dumbness had struck him when he was still in school. He suddenly got a very high fever which resulted in the loss of speech though miraculously his hearing was not affected. Communication became his greatest handicap but his sharp intellect taught him how to express himself through sign language and seek help from his wife and later on his son. 

Ramzan Joe took a personal interest in the maintenance and cleanliness of guest house rooms. He knew that the British were keen on neatness and cleanliness. So far none of them had raised even a finger on his spotless work. On the contrary, many British officers appreciated his work and given him letters of commendation at the time of their departure.

He had been the keeper of this guest house for more than forty years now. Mostly the guests were senior government officers on their official visits to local subordinate offices. They stayed here for a few days, sometimes accompanied by their family and at other times alone.

Things changed drastically after independence. Democracy changed both culture and behaviour of society.  Foot soldiers became torchbearers. Hooligans and ruffians controlled the reins of government and their slaves occupied chairs of power. Ramzan Joo sensed it all and felt worrisome, especially for his family which comprised his wife, one grown-up daughter and a son younger than her. He would occasionally express his worry to his wife in sign language but she was initially unable to understand him properly. Later on, however, she deduced the truth on her own and understood what her husband was trying to convey looking at the behaviour of local and other guests who came and stayed in the guest house.

“Zooni, things have changed altogether now from what it was during the British days. They were very clean-mannered, devout and god-fearing. God save us from these ruffians and hooligans who visit nowadays. They lack all dignified conduct and have no respect for good culture. They are full of lustful desires and abominable to the core. Never go in front of them in my absence nor send Farzana under any circumstances. Rashid can go, he is a boy.” Ramzan Joo could not speak but he could think and express himself through sign language and movements of his hands. Zooni could easily read everything from the tearful eyes and pallid face of her husband.

Ramzan Joo received his first shock when the Conservator of Forests, Peerzada Himayun Ashraf came into the guest house.  A party was held till late into the night in the dining hall. The subordinate officers had come with their wives who felt free in entertaining the chief guest. Those who veiled their faces at home carried glasses of lemon-immersed gin or frothing beer in their hands and welcomed stealthy glances onto their half-bare ivory-like bodies. Every one of them wore expensive dazzling clothes and hung Pashmina shawls on their shoulders just to display affluence. With heavily made-up faces, deeply painted lips, long dangling earrings, and pretty golden bangles on their arms the women moved around inviting compliments from onlookers. The hall echoed with high pitch laughter and obscene jokes. Wine and dining were made available by subordinate officers from a nearby hotel while the caretaker was asked to make other arrangements in the guest house. 

At the time of departure one of the officers called Ramzan Joo and tried to hand him over two bottles of whiskey as a tip for the services rendered adding, “Ramzana, these two bottles are for you! You’ll recall our favour for a long and remember what nice officers you came in contact with today!!" Ramzan Joo wore a feeble smile and politely refused to take the bottles with the movement of his hand. He wished he was able to speak, he would have given him a sound verbal thrashing. He wished he could tell him that he had seen officers in this guest house of such refinement and calibre that people like him would not match their shoe shiners even. The officer felt embarrassed and went away. Slowly the hall was emptied of all the guests but was left littered with so much refuse and garbage that it took Ramzan Joo two days to clean up. For this additional work, he was paid just twenty-five rupees over and above the actual bill payment as a tip. While cleaning the hall, words of the officer repeatedly echoed in his ears---“You’ll remember our favour for a long time and often recall what nice officers you came in contact with today!!”

After this episode, he faced many more embarrassing happenings in the guest house so much so that at times he wanted to quit his job instantly but the pressing need for livelihood for himself and his family dependent upon him made him bear all the insults and humiliations patiently. Had he been alone he would have long back kicked the job and left the guest house since his honour was at stake. His dilemma was understandable. How could he be able to support four members of his family besides himself that too with such a serious physical handicap? His children were studying in a nearby government school. His moving out would have caused a catastrophe for his family.

Many a time some officer guests came in with other women and stayed in the guest house. They showed so close association that nobody could suspect anything wrong. Ramzan Joo, simple-minded as he was, didn’t smell anything suspicious till his wife found it out and warned him of its dangers but he was unable to prevent it. He was a humble employee and unable to denounce them for their immoral activities or inform the police. One of them who frequented the guest house was a top police officer while the other one was a member of the legislature. When his wife expressed her concern he had to force himself to maintain silence. Many a time he pondered over it and said to himself, “Hell, imagine what type of people visit this guest house? Sons of bitches! Shameless guys! Lack of even the basics of ethics and morality. The women accompanying them too are shameless and promiscuous. Nothing like that was seen by me during the British days. They never committed anything regretful. True, they consumed liquor and were free but shamelessness was not in their blood. I’m fed up seeing it all with my own eyes. I want to kick this job and return to my native village but how to sustain my large family with a small piece of agricultural land and a shared property in the village! Now it is only God’s grace that can save us otherwise it is impossible to carry on with these wicked rascals!”

Then another earthquake shook his existence! One day an Excise Commissioner came into the guest house. He was on an inspection tour. A man of abominable short stature and a thin wiry frame with a wheatish complexion, who in order to hide his inferiority complex took long steps and talked aloud. He often used words and expressions like a bloody, bastard, son of a bitch to give vent to his anger or stamp his authority, especially on his subordinates to keep them on tiptoes. When he reached the guest house Ramzan Joo had gone out to the market to fetch some veggies etc, so Farzana, his daughter opened the gate for him. She had already reached her seventeenth year and looked so cute and pretty. While looking at her Afzal Karim stood awestricken and the devil in his heart came wide alive!  Farzana looked around and said pointing at the door of the nearby VIP suite, “Sahab Jee, this suite is reserved for you. You may get fresh, hot water is available in the geyser. In the meantime, Dad will be back. He’s gone to the market to fetch some fresh veggies. If you need anything more you can push the call bell. She had immediately sensed his intention so without staying further she rushed back into her quarter.

Afzal Karim and his orderly went into the suite. The orderly opened his bags and began putting the requisite essentials in order. Meanwhile, he took out two bottles of Whiskey and some snacks from the bag and set them on the table. In order to have some glasses, the orderly rushed out to the kitchen and called out aloud besides pushing the bell. Farzana came almost running. On being told she took out four glasses, put them on a tray and handed them over to the orderly.

Afzal Karim went into the washroom, got fresh in a few minutes, changed his clothes and sat in the armchair near the table. He wanted to have some drinks to get relief from the weariness of the journey. The orderly prepared the drink and Afzal Karim took a few sips slowly though intermixed with the thoughts of Farzana. After a few moments, unable to control his lust, he said to his orderly, “The girl is extremely pretty, like a fairy. God knows who is destined for her!”

The orderly knew his boss well. He immediately sensed his intention. So he replied hastily, “Ah, Sir, what’s her status? Won’t even get an ordinary man! Some third-class fellow will marry her for sure!”

“That’s unfortunate! She’s truly extremely beautiful!”

The orderly got the clue. Karim was emptying whiskey pegs one after the other which was showing its effect. Meanwhile, Ramzan Joo returned from the market and knocked feebly at the door of the suite.

“Come in!” Afzal Karim called out aloud.

Ramzan Joo came in and said in the language of gestures, “I hope the arrangements are satisfactory!” Looking at the wall clock he asked again, “When will you have dinner, Sir?” Afzal Karim was puzzled why this man was not speaking. His orderly saw through his enigma and said, “Sir, he is Ramzan Joo, the caretaker of this guest house. He is unable to speak but can hear well. He wants to know at what time you’ll have the dinner and if there is any other requirement, he’ll arrange it.” The orderly was already acquainted with Ramzan Joo because he had earlier visited this guest house on several occasions.

A fit of notorious anger with an air of grin spread on the face of Afzal Karim. He said to his orderly “If he can't speak, someone else should have come. Okay, see if some arrangement can be made.”

The orderly got the cue. He got up and drove out Ramzan Joo placing his arm on his shoulder. He whispered into Ramzan's ear as if he was revealing a secret, “Ramzana, he is my topmost boss. My job is subject to his pleasure. It'll be kind of you if you fulfil his wish.”

Unable to make out his intention Ramzan Joo stared closely into his face. He himself became a question personified.

Cutting across all the limits of shame and bounds of morality, the orderly told him clearly in his ear, “Sahib likes your daughter very much. I should be leaving after dinner. Send her to him late in the night. He’ll reward you to your heart’s content. He is very bounteous.”

Suddenly Ramzan Joo felt the earth shaking under his feet and the sky crashing down on his head. He didn't possess the power of speech but now momentarily he seemed to have lost his power of thinking and understanding as well. It was for the first time in his life that he heard such shocking words. His breaking emotion burst into a flow of tears but somehow he could control himself. Without uttering a word he walked back to his quarters with legs as heavy as lead.

On seeing Farzana his anger got the better of him. He slapped her face with all force and asked in his language of gestures why she had appeared before the guests in his absence. She was dumbfounded, and couldn't reply but her mother spoke out, “Why do you flare up? You were not here. Neither I nor Rashid was available. I had taken Rashid to the doctor. And what wrong did she commit, she only opened the door and made them comfortable. She didn't misbehave. ”

Ramzan Joo was feeling as if someone had undressed her daughter before him.  He could not express anything, only a stream of tears was flowing in his eyes and he was beating his forehead with his palms repeatedly. Gradually his wife tried to comprehend all that might have happened, so she consoled her innocent husband and begged him to cool down.

“Farzana is not at fault, dear. These people are wicked and greatly sinful. The British were far better than these devils. Forget it now; serve them dinner in the evening, by morning these monsters will vanish.

At nine in the evening, Ramzan Joo spread dinner for the guest in the dining hall, knocked on his door softly and with a little motion of hand called him to the dinner table. Not a word was spoken or a gesture made after that. After dinner, Ramzan Joo silently removed the used dishware and went straight into his house. Normally he would go into the room of the guest after serving him dinner and ask him if there was any other requirement. After fulfilling the need of the guest, he would bid good night to him and take his leave.

Tonight it was different. He was not able to have even a wink of sleep the whole night. His inner conscience was poking him. Repeatedly he would get up and bow low in submission before Allah as if he had committed an unpardonable sin. His wife too was much anguished, she witnessed it all but was helpless. She went along in extreme anguish.

In the morning after Afzal Karim left the guest house, Ramzan Joo started packing his bags. He had decided finally to leave his job and go to his native village to spend the rest of his life. In the afternoon he met his boss in his office and submitted his resignation. His boss wanted to know the reason for his resignation but Ramzan Joo did not say anything though tears continued to make his eyes moist and were about to burst.

After three days a young man replaced him in the guest house. Ramzan Joo handed him the keys and left the same evening along with his family. While leaving, Ramzan Joo heaved a deep sigh of anguish and relief and looked back at the guest house which to him was no less than a place of worship.

*****