Stories on the City

by Premchand

  ‘It is easy to say but hard to implement. Any respect I get here is due to my supplication. If the viceroy’s attitude towards me changes, no one will come to me. See, Raja Badra Bahadur Singh is here.’

  ‘Is Shivrajpur a big kingdom?’

  ‘Its annual revenue is not less than fifteen lakh, and it is an independent state.’

  ‘Raja Sahib is quite attracted to Manorama. It seems Manorama has also fallen for him.’

  ‘Nothing could be better than if this match were to happen. It is my authority that attracts Raja Sahib here. Did we have this good fortune in Lucknow? Look, the finance secretary Mr Kak is here.’

  Kak shook Dayakrishna’s hands and said, ‘Mrs Mehta, I adore your dress. It is a pity that our ladies do not wear saris.’

  Rajeshwari said, ‘I would like to wear a gown.’

  Kak didn’t like the idea. ‘No, Mrs Mehta, for the love of God, do not commit such an outrage! Mr Mehta, I have brought you some very happy news. Is your noble son arriving soon? Maharaja Bhind would like to consider him for the post of his private secretary. Please inform him urgently.’

  ‘I am indebted to you,’ said Dayakrishna gratefully.

  ‘It would be nice if you sent him a telegram. You must have read the report about Kabul. His Majesty Amir does not seem eager to enter into an agreement with us. He has turned to the Bolsheviks. The matter is worth concern.’

  ‘I do not think so. In the past century, Kabul has not found the courage to attack India. Even India has not taken a step forward. Yes, they are quite capable of defending themselves.’

  ‘I beg your pardon, but you seem to forget that a coalition has been formed between Iran–Afghanistan and the Bolsheviks. Is the assembly of so many enemies at our border not alarming? It is our duty to be wary of them.’

  By now, it was time for lunch. The party sat at the table. The conversation changed to horse racing and dance.

  4

  Dayakrishna’s opinions on the budget raised a storm all over India. One group took his opinions as the holy writ, the second, apart from disagreeing with him on some clauses, largely accepted his opinions. However, the third group shook its head in disappointment at each and every word of the speech and wept over the downfall of India. They couldn’t believe that these words could come out of Dayakrishna’s mouth.

  ‘I am surprised that the non-governmental members have unequivocally opposed those sections of the proposal on which are dependent the security, peace and progress of the nation. They considered educational reforms, medical reforms and the expansion of canals more important. They were more concerned with the lower income employees. I had greater confidence in their political knowledge. The chief duty of the state is to safeguard the country from internal and external non-peaceful forces. Education and medical care, industry and business, are basic duties. We can see the entire population of our country blissful in a sea of ignorance, we can keep them under the threat of plague and malaria, we can make the lower-income employees fodder for our thought, we can leave the peasants at the mercy of the weather, but we cannot tolerate an enemy standing at the border of our country.

  ‘If the entire national income is directed towards the security of the country, it would not be a problem for you. You would say that we are not currently under the threat of any attack. I believe that the world is one of uncertainty. Trains can run in the air, water can catch fire, trees can hold a conversation. The roots can be more alert. Does this secret not manifest itself to us each day? You would say that the work of politicians is not to run after probabilities but to solve problems of the present and the immediate future. I would not like to get into a debate regarding the duties of politicians; however, everyone knows that prevention is better than cure. Your responsibility is not merely to sanction military expenditure but to present your own opinion! You would say that the strength of volunteers should be increased. The government has just confronted an uncomfortable issue in this regard. The educated class is debauched, cowardly and self-serving. The people of the countryside are peace-loving, narrow minded (I won’t call them cowards) and domesticated. Where is the self-sacrifice, the courage, the courage of their ancestors? And it might be unnecessary to point out that no pacifist public can be turned fighters within a couple of years.’

  5

  It was the month of Jeth but in Shimla, there were neither scorching winds nor punishing heat. Dayakrishna was opening letters that had come from abroad. Seeing Balakrishna’s letter he was delighted, but on reading it, sadness covered his face. He took the letter to Rajeshwari.

  She asked in enthusiasm, ‘Has a letter come from Bala?’

  ‘Yes, this is it.’

  ‘When is he coming?’

  ‘He has written nothing about it. The entire letter is a lament on my treachery and denouement. According to him, I am an enemy of the nation, selfish, a damned soul, all of that. I do not understand what has caused such a difference in his thought. I used to consider him a very peaceful, grave, strong-willed and ethical young man and used to take pride in him. And not satisfied with this letter, he has published a detailed critique of my speech in an esteemed English magazine. He has been careful enough not to publish the article under his own name or I would not be eligible to show my face anywhere. I don’t understand whose bad company has led to this. According to him, the job under Maharaja Bhind is slavery and Manorama’s marriage to Raja Bhadra Bahadur Singh is disgusting and shameful. He has grown so bold as to call me artful, crafty, a seller of ideals, betrayer of the clan! Such shame! I do not want to see his face again . . . ’

  ‘Here, let me take a look at the letter! He was never so bare-faced.’

  Saying this, she took the letter from her husband’s hand and, after having read half of it within a minute, said, ‘Where are the cruel words in it? I do not find a single bad word in it.’

  ‘Look at the tone, do not go by the words alone.’

  ‘When there is a gulf between your ideals, how can he be respectful to you?’

  However, Dayakrishna was losing his patience. He was further inflamed by Rajeshwari’s words. He went to his office in this state of mind and started writing a letter, each word of which was sharper than a knife or a machete.

  Two weeks after this incident when Dayakrishna opened his outstation mail, there was no letter from Balakrishna. He thought that his attack had worked, that Balakrishna had returned to the straight path and had, thus, not been brave enough to reply. He then opened the London Times (he read this paper with great enthusiasm) and looked at the telegrams. A gasp escaped his mouth, the newspaper fell from his hands, and opened at the first news story:

  ‘Meeting of Indian Patriots at London, Disappointment with the Speech of Honourable Mister Mehta, Mister Balakrishna Mehta’s Opposition and Suicide’

  Last Saturday, a mass gathering of Indian youths and leaders was conducted at Baxton Hall. The president,

  Mr Talibaja said, ‘Even a prolonged search would not reveal a speech so heart-rending and so cruel from any English member of the council. We have not heard a more misleading, more tyrannical opinion from the mouth of any statesman. This speech has proved that there is no salvation for India other than self-rule, the essence of which is complete freedom of mind and expression. If we had not lost faith in evolution so far, have we done so now? Our illness has become malignant. This cannot be cured by powders and syrup. It’s not recuperation that we need but rejuvenation. Higher posts do not make us independent; instead, it increases the potency of our initial subjugation. It is our firm conviction that Mr Mehta covertly considers false the very opinions he has propagated; however, desire for respect, desire for credit and desire for the post has compelled him to strangle his soul . . .’

  [Someone said aloud: ‘This is a false accusation.’]

  The people looked on in surprise as Mr Balakrishna remained standing in position. His body trembled with rage. He wanted to say something but people surrounded him and started blaming and showering in
dignities upon him. The president managed to quieten the crowd with great difficulty but Mr Balakrishna walked away.

  The next day when his friends came to visit him, they found Balakrishna’s corpse on the floor. Two bullets from his pistol had found their way to his heart. On the open pages of the diary lying on his desk, they found the following lines:

  ‘My pride was let down at the meeting today. I cannot bear this insult. I do not know how much blame I’ll have to face on account of my venerable father. It would be better to end this battle of ideals. It is likely that my life will be an obstacle in his unyielding path. May God grant me strength!’

  Translated from the Hindi by Shalim M. Hussain

  A Hired Pony

  1

  Two young men were walking hand in hand in the playing field of Agra College one evening. One of them was named Yashwant, while the other one was Ramesh. Yashwant was tall and of a sturdy build. There was an unusual glow on his face that spoke of a life of moderation and good health. Ramesh was a man of short stature with a lean body. He was spiritless and infirm. There was an argument going on between them.

  Yashwant said, ‘I consider wealth to be worthless before the spirit.’

  Ramesh replied, ‘Oh, that’s wonderful.’

  ‘Yes, you just wait and see. I know you are making a jibe at me but I’ll show you how insignificant wealth is for me.’

  ‘Well then, you can prove it to me later. I don’t consider riches to be insignificant. I’ve been studying books since the last fifteen years for the sake of wealth. I’ve also been staying here, away from my parents, brothers and relatives for the same purpose. Who knows how many doors I will have to knock on and how many people I will have to flatter? Won’t it involve a degradation of the spirit? I can’t adhere to such high ideals. If I get a considerable bribe in a lawsuit here, then perhaps I won’t be able to resist it. Would you let such a chance slip through your fingers?’

  ‘I won’t even look at it and I’m sure you’re not as mean as you pretend to be.’

  ‘I assure you, I’m meaner than I’m ready to confess.’

  ‘I can’t believe that you’ll be able to harm anyone out of self-interest.’

  ‘Brother, only ascetics can subsist on ideals in this world, I cannot. I believe that if I can win a bet by pushing you, then I’ll surely throw you to the ground. And if you don’t mind, then I’ll say that you too will knock me down in such a situation. It’s difficult to sacrifice self-interest.’

  ‘Then I’ll say that you are a hired pony.’

  ‘And I’ll say that you’re a blockhead.’

  2

  Yashwant and Ramesh had enrolled themselves together in school and had also passed out together from college with their respective diplomas. Yashwant was a bit slow-witted but he was hard-working. Whatever work he took on, he stuck to it and wouldn’t rest before completing it. Ramesh was intelligent but lazy. Even an hour of concentrated effort was difficult for him. Till his MA, he had always been ahead, while Yashwant lagged behind. Intellect prevailed over diligence. But, the equation reversed in the civil services exam. Yashwant left all other activities and concentrated on his studies with full vigour. He turned his face away from the usual entertainment. He didn’t go wandering around, didn’t visit the circus or the theatre with his friends, and confined himself in his room. Ramesh chatted away with his friends and played cricket. Occasionally, he would open his books, for a change. He was fairly confident that he’d do better than his friends this time too. He’d often go and tease Yashwant. He’d close Yashwant’s books and exhort him not to risk his life studying. Civil service was not the ultimate objective in life—so there was no need to sever all connections with the world. If Yashwant saw Ramesh coming from a distance, he’d close the door.

  Finally, the day of the exam arrived. Yashwant had read everything, but when he tried to think about how to answer a specific question, it seemed to him that he’d forgotten everything. He was in a state of panic. Ramesh was not accustomed to making preparations beforehand. I’ll see when the question paper is before me, he thought. He was full of confidence and had no worry at all.

  The results of the exam came out. The slow-moving tortoise won over the fast-running hare.

  Now Ramesh’s eyes opened but he didn’t despair. He was confident that for a worthy person like him fame and wealth were bound to come, sooner or later. He started preparing for the law exam and although he didn’t work too hard, he passed in the first division. Yashwant sent him a congratulatory telegram. He had become a government officer in a district.

  3

  Ten years passed. Yashwant worked very hard and his officers were very happy with him. But, although his officers were pleased, his subordinates were proportionately displeased. Yashwant wanted his subordinates to work as hard as he did. He expected them to be as selfless as he was. Such individuals are considered important for the administration. Yashwant’s work impressed his officers and in five years he was made the district judge.

  Ramesh was not as fortunate. He tried different courts but didn’t succeed in his law practice. If the judge didn’t come on time, he would leave the court and wouldn’t return even if he was called back. He’d say, ‘If the judge doesn’t practise punctuality, why should I? Why should I wait for him for hours in the court?’

  He conducted interrogations with such courage that the judges who were accustomed to flattery considered his fearlessness audacity. He didn’t know what forbearance was. Whether it was the judge or a rival lawyer, if anyone dared to bandy words with him, he’d give them a piece of his mind. Once he even fought with the district judge. The consequence was—his degree was revoked. However, he continued to reign over the hearts of his clients.

  Then he got the job of a professor at Agra College. But his misfortune didn’t leave him there either. He rubbed the principal the wrong way on the very first day. The principal believed that the students should stay away from politics. He didn’t allow any student of the college to participate in any political gatherings. Ramesh began to openly violate this principle on his first day. He declared that students needed to participate in political gatherings. This was a part of their education. If in other countries, students had revolutionized society, why should the boys in his country be suppressed? The consequence of this was—Ramesh had to tender his resignation before the year was over. However, the students continued to adore him.

  Thus, led by circumstances and his own inclinations, Ramesh, in the course of time, became a judge. First he fought in the court on behalf of his clients, then he fought with the principal in support of the students and finally he challenged the government on behalf of the common people. By temperament he was fearless, self-respecting and a lover of truth and ideals. For such a person, there was no other option but to become a servant of the common people. His articles on the current state of the country began to appear in newspapers. His discussions were so lucid, touching and comprehensive that soon his fame spread far and wide. People felt that a new sun had risen in the firmament. The government officers cringed after reading his articles. He aimed his target so sharply that it was not possible for anyone to avoid it. The hyperboles flew over their heads thick and fast. They could only watch the spectacle from a distance. These weapons were beyond their reach, or became unwieldy in their hands. Ramesh’s jibes would hit the bull’s eye and create a stir and commotion among the officers.

  Yashwant shuddered reading the articles of his old friend. He was afraid lest Ramesh got caught in the grip of law. He repeatedly cautioned Ramesh to exercise restraint and beseeched him to curb the sharpness of his free-flowing pen. Why should he deliberately poke his fingers into the jaws of this poisonous law?

  But Ramesh was intoxicated by the idea of leadership. He didn’t even care to reply to these letters.

  In his fifth year, Yashwant was transferred from his current job and became the district judge of Agra.

  4

  The political situation of th
e country was worrisome. The secret police had created quite a panic. Their fabricated stories frightened the officers of the government. Newspaper agencies were silenced in some places while the leaders of the public were stopped at others. To serve their own interests, the secret police poisoned the minds of the rulers in such a way that every man with independent thought appeared a murderer to them.

  Ramesh was not one to sit quietly seeing such a state of affairs. As the officers became more and more oppressive, Ramesh’s passion increased proportionately. Every day, he would deliver a speech somewhere or the other and most often his speeches would be filled with seditious sentiments. To speak about what is fair and apparent is itself sedition! If someone’s political speech is not considered seditious, then one should conclude that he has concealed his inner emotions. He doesn’t have the courage to bring whatever there is in his heart to his lips. Ramesh had never learnt to hide the feelings of his heart. Being a mass leader, he couldn’t afford to be scared of the hangman’s noose. If there was disaster coming, let it! He was ready to bear everything. He became an eyesore for the officers.

  One day Yashwant sent for Ramesh. Ramesh felt like saying—Why? Do you feel ashamed coming here? After all, you are just a slave. But then he thought for a while and sent a message saying that he would come the following evening. The next day, he reached Yashwant’s bungalow at six o’clock sharp. He didn’t mention this to anyone; partly because others might accuse him of fawning on officers and partly because there was a chance of some harm coming to Yashwant.

  The lamps had been lit when he reached Yashwant’s bungalow. Yashwant gave him a hug. The two friends kept on chatting till midnight. Yashwant told him everything about the experience that he had gained from his job. Ramesh was surprised to find out that on many subjects, Yashwant’s political views were much more independent than his. His opinion that Yashwant had changed completely and was playing the tune of loyalty was proved completely wrong.