Our Favourite Indian Stories

by Khushwant Singh

  Deepankar had said he would see her in the morning. But, left alone, she felt certain that this would be her last night. She suddenly felt extremely worn out. She felt very fatigued. What was the day today? Second day after the full moon. The lovely red moon would rise today, a little late. That was enough. She wanted nothing else. It would be only proper if the end came tonight.

  The voices downstairs had stopped. It could not be very late. It must be hardly nine o'clock. Perhaps they were seated at the threshold on the other side. Deepankar must be talking about America. Her daughters and Maya and Chhaya must be eager to know what Deepankar had brought for them. And Maya must be planning how to get the best thing for herself.

  There was a whiff of wind and the boughs of the neem tree swung. A couple of tiny blossoms were swept into her bed.

  Suddenly she felt the door open. Who could have come? The maidservant had already given her the last dose of medicine. Then who could it be?

  Somebody came up to her, walking softly. It was Maria. She was astonished beyond words. Why had Maria come?

  Maria came and sat by her side, holding her hand. She said nothing for a while. She simply gazed at her and smiled. Then she asked, 'I would like to sit here. May I?'

  She nodded but she had not yet ceased to wonder.

  For a long time, Maria sat in silence, watching the sky behind the neem tree. Then she said gently, 'You have arranged your bed in a nice corner. That tree looks lovely. Now the tree will flower, won't it? A few flowers can be seen already.' Maria spoke in English, slowly. She spoke with an American accent, but she understood everything.

  Maria said again, 'I loved that book of Tagore's poem you had sent at the time of our wedding. I have read the poems several times. Some poems are on the tip of my tongue.'

  Maria smiled and stroked the mother's hand. 'I loved you for that book. It was wonderful, to love the world with all its people in such a beautiful way...' and then Maria said, 'Do you still remember those poems?'

  She nodded her head with joy.

  Maria slid a little closer and leaned right above her. 'You look very weak.'

  She said nothing.

  Maria looked straight into her eyes and stroked her hair. Then bringing her mouth near her ear she whispered softly, 'You... you are not afraid, are you?'

  'Afraid of what?'

  'Of the unknown...' Maria said gently. 'Afraid of leaving behind all that is familiar and sliding into nothingness. Are you afraid?'

  A tidal wave rose in her heart. A wave of joy. That girl had understood her. She longed to know her inner feelings. She was worried about her fear. Perhaps she wanted to dispel that fear.

  She wanted to reply. But she was tired after the excitement of that tide of joy. A new relationship had been born in her last moments. A bit late... but a lovely relationship nevertheless. She looked at Maria with love and satisfaction. Suddenly she wondered. People say that a woman who dies while her husband is still alive is saubhagyawati. But what do they know about the meaning of good fortune? Here is good fortune. The slow, imperceptible development of a new relationship, a new love in the firmament of the end moments of one's life — that is good fortune. It is the greatest good fortune to be able to die with joy.

  The white edge of the moon was seen behind the neem tree. Maria switched off the light in the room. It seemed as if the boughs of the tree were covered with countless white flowers. She held Maria's hand and pointed at the moon... Look, she is bidding farewell....

  Maria gently passed her hand over her forehead. 'May your journey be peaceful.'

  A reddish glow spread on her face.

  Translated by Sarla Jag Mohan

  RAJASTHANI

  Cannibal

  Vijai Dan Detha

  Of all the beings in this world, only the descendants of Adam lack an inherent nature. You may say that a certain person looks like a thorn-apple tree or an acacia, and that another acts like a lion or a python, a vulture, or a donkey. These kinds of observations are as old as the ages. One day a priest of a Goddess Temple was born in the usual manner — a man's organ plus a woman's womb — yet he seemed more the product of a dhatura— cactus and a crow.

  He was but a child when his parents had grown so tired of his mean-spirited antics that they had sent him off to a far-away temple of the Goddess hoping that She would somehow reform him. But water a cactus with milk and butter everyday and it will still remain just a cactus. A crow can spend years listening to hymns and bhajans, and still squawk like a crow. Every being has a certain nature you can see right from birth. This stays with him until death. A donkey can spend his entire life reading from the sacred Bhagavat-Gita, and still he will be nothing but a donkey. This Brahmin wasted plenty of sandalwood anointing himself for worship. He chanted his prayer beads. He said prayers to the Goddess, partook of hash, offered smokes of ganja. His eyes glowed red as cinders, day and night. He grew a beard up to his belly and let his hair become as matted and twisted as a weaverbird's nest. His teeth were yellow and his lips were thick. He was tall and had a stumpy neck. His entire body was covered with bear-like fur. He looked like the typical ascetic.

  As Fate would have it that this boorish Brahmin's wife was kind and patient. He hit her whenever he felt like it, as if wife beating was part of his daily routine. His wife thought it over and decided this was just another hardship she had to bear. When there was no food left to cook, that's when she really started to worry.

  It wasn't easy surviving on the meagre daily offerings made to the Goddess of their temple. And, with the Brahmin's nature as it was, faith in the Goddess gradually dwindled. Offerings grew smaller day by day. Even the Goddess began to worry.

  One day after dinner, the Brahmin had just smoked some ganja and was falling asleep when he jerked up awake.

  He said to his wife, 'This Goddess of ours is a cheap slut. No one's going to believe she's anything but a pile of shit! Look at the way she lets me live! Me! Her very own priest! As if I'm good for anything else after hanging around this temple all these years. I might as well go over there and torch it. Let it all go up in flames: me, the Goddess, everything. Ha! Then she'll know who to watch out for. Just wait a few days and see. I'm really going to teach her a lesson.'

  'Don't leave me behind like that!' his wife cried out. 'How will I ever survive in this world alone, without husband or Goddess to protect me?'

  'Oh, I completely forgot about that. Good thing you reminded me. Let's wait until the next new moon. Then we'll pull our stunt. People will be talking about it for years!'

  He lay back down on the edge of the bed when his wife exclaimed, 'This can't be happening! How are you going to fall asleep when you haven't hit me yet?'

  Now, in his childhood the Brahmin may have forgotten himself and smiled once or twice, perhaps, but never after that. No word that was even remotely good-natured had ever passed through his lips. But, tonight, when he heard his wife's innocent comment, a faint grin flickered across his lips for the very first time.

  'You need a good thrashing to relax at night, huh? You probably think it's cruel of me. You know why I do it, don't you? I only feel like a man when I'm slapping you around. And you're the only one in the world I can flex my muscles to. I suppose if we had children I'd knock them around, too. You know there's nothing better than pummelling the lights out of someone. I don't care how much you miss these bouts of ours, though. I've had enough. From now on, if I lay my hands on anyone, it's going to be to wring that damn Goddess' neck. I'll find myself a hammer and go in there and smash her to pieces. Then I'll light the whole temple on fire with me inside, and die there in peace. Look, if I forget, make sure you remind me. We can't let the next new moon go by.'

  It took him a long time to fall asleep that night. And his wife didn't close her eyes once. How had this burden suddenly gotten dumped on her shoulders? Obey her husband and there'd be a disaster. Disobey him, disaster. When had they ever had even a glimmer of happiness in this life? The two had seen nothing but gr
ief. Good thing they didn't have any children. They'd just spend all their time crying over their misery. Troubles churned inside her head until it felt absolutely empty — no more worries, no more sorrow. She looked into the sky. There are more shades of malice, despair, gratification and serenity mixed in the night's dark cloak than even the Creator could name.

  Well, time doesn't heed even an apocalypse, so why would it concern itself with this measly Brahmin priest? The cycle of days and nights moved along at their natural pace when finally the new moon day dawned. The Goddess was upset. There was no telling what the crazy priest was capable of. If the worshippers' faith in Her lapsed for a moment, there would be no one left even to remember Her name. The other creatures in the world didn't think of anything besides watching out for their own skins. It wouldn't matter to them if the Lord died today or tomorrow — vultures, crows, jackals and ants would be there feeding on His corpse. If She left her temple, she'd have to go a hundred miles just to find another. There's no relying on these selfish humans! You never knew when their stomachs would growl and everything would change.

  The Brahmin's wife thought over her predicament long and hard. In the end she decided that once in her life she might as well do something out of the ordinary. She reminded her husband of his vow the night before the new moon day.

  He threw a fit. 'You're reminding me just as I'm falling asleep? Tell me again in the morning and may be I'll remember.'

  But the next morning when the Brahmin set off to the temple his wife's mind was on other matters, and she forgot all about his vow. He got angry when he realized this, 'I've told you so many times and still you forget! My faith in you has gone from molasses to cow dung! I'm going to borrow a hammer from someone today, and arrange for the wood and kindling. You come with me after dinner tonight. The whole district will be talking about us tomorrow.'

  Meanwhile the Goddess was in a state. She couldn't concentrate on the prayers people were offering. She knew Her Brahmin too well. He could get into one of his moods anytime now and smash Her to pieces. She had to think of a way to appease him.

  The sun was setting as he was performing the last evening rites when suddenly the Goddess emerged from her idol. She was adorned so gaily that she sparkled like a thousand lamps. Priceless diamonds and pearls glittered as she walked. When the Brahmin looked up and saw this lone devotee standing beside him, he thought this was his golden opportunity.

  He was just about to snatch her jewellery when she spoke: 'Son, I have been testing you these many years. If only you could have waited a little longer, you would have received the very throne of Indra. But you have lost patience prematurely. Nevertheless, I will give you whatever wish you ask for.'

  The temple cymbals tumbled from his hands, sending a piercing clang echoing throughout the small temple alcove. The Goddess stood in front of him smiling. He spat contemptuously and asked, 'And what if I had died first?'

  She kept smiling and assured him, 'I would never have let that happen. Our devotees receive Our unfailing care. It was simply due to some confusion in the divine realm that your reward has been so long delayed.'

  And what if She would disappear just as suddenly as She had appeared? There was no telling with her! A moment later he said, 'Give me all Your jewellery then. Then we'll both get to enjoy a life of leisure.'

  She cried out without thinking: 'I'd be lost without My Jewellery!' But She regained her composure quickly and explained, 'Divine jewellery is useless to you people. It would turn to sand at your touch.'

  'So why did you tell me to wish for anything I wanted? I asked for what I wanted. And unlike You, I mean what I say when I say it. Well, now at least I know how to get You here when I want You here. Next time I need anything I'll just get myself a hammer. Humph. Anyway, there's no hiding my troubles from you. If you really want to grant me a boon, then just go ahead and give me something. Whatever you want.'

  Such bravado! She could scarcely conceal her rage. She knew this worshipper well. He had suffered too much to be easily cowed. A man living a cushy life could never hazard such recklessness. But the Brahmin would get soft, too, as soon as he tasted luxury. Then she wouldn't have to worry. This was the kind of man who'd lop off his nose just to be a portentous sight for others. So She would give him a boon that would please him, yes, but would do more for the people around him. That would make him burn with envy.

  She said, 'All these years you have spent worshipping me and your moral fortitude has done nothing but deteriorate. Get rid of that fire burning in your heart. Whenever it flares up, try doing something kind for someone instead.'

  Listening to advice about doing something helpful for someone else made him sick. "What kind of lecture is this? I've heard this too many times already. Forget the lecture, just gave me my boon.'

  'You are one in a million. One in a million. Actually I am impressed by this impudence of yours. What's the use of all those fawning fools, constantly grovelling and tittering? But you can't even look after your own interest. From now on, I'll look after you.'

  'Okay so everything's going to be happy ever after, but why are You taking so long?'

  The Goddess was so pleased words couldn't express it. She didn't even mind his insolence. She laughed and said, 'All Children are equal in a mother's eye. Maternal feelings are never lacking, even for the most wicked. Until this day no one has ever received a boon such as the one I'm about to grant you. And, along with you others will profit.'

  'Others will profit? By my boon? What could be worse? Me, I've no use for a boon like that.'

  'You have spent your entire life enduring one hardship after another. It has made your thinking a little skewed. Getting angry like this doesn't help matters. Go. From now on, anything you ask for will appear before you. But whatever you ask for, others will receive too and double, for twelve and twelve makes twenty-four miles around.'

  He started to scream, 'You call that a boon? It's worse than a curse! Compared to this boon of yours, my miserable life is a first-class train ride. Take back your stupid boon and get out of here!'

  The Goddess vanished back inside the icon as miraculously as She had come. He began shaking the Icon, but She wouldn't reappear: didn't make a single sound. He stood there for a while completely still. He thought to himself, I'll just go home and talk it over with the wife. What could it hurt? After all these years, finally the Goddess had granted him a boon!

  He felt happy as he walked home from the temple. His wife was standing in the doorway. Such long, bounding strides! She had never seen him like this.

  She called out, 'What's happened? Why are you so excited?'

  'Today I found out that you don't mince words with someone used to kicks.'

  Then the Brahmin explained in detail all that had led up to his getting the boon. As she stood listening to him, the Brahmin's wife felt the weight of all those years of suffering and hardship lift from her shoulders. She became ecstatic.

  She told him, 'I knew that all the time you spent in prayers would prove worthwhile.'

  'Prove worthwhile? What do you mean, the prayers would prove worthwhile? It's been completely worthless! Whatever I get everyone else will get also, only twice as much. You couldn't think of a worse curse! God, has the hash started rotting out your brain?'

  'As a woman I have no right to challenge you, but really, what does it matter to us if others have more? We have spent so much of our lives toiling away in such misery; just the thought of it makes my hair stand on end. Let's just try to be happy. Then we'll know. It's up to you now. What's there to worry about? It hasn't been easy staying devoted to a husband like you. Why can't you just grant me just one taste of joy?'

  He was not a man born with compassion in his heart. But it must be said that he did not get angry after hearing his wife's nonsense. He scratched his head and said, 'You are right. We should see if it works. The Goddess, after all, may be trying to trick us somehow.'

  But what should he ask for first? Suddenly he thought of his b
roken pipe and empty bowl of ganja. He called out, 'Oh Mother Goddess, if this boon is genuine, then give me a new pipe and a big bowl of ganja."

  The words had scarcely left his lips when the gifts appeared. He stared at them wide-eyed, flabbergasted. If he could get every wish to come true this easily, there would be no end to his joy! Every want of the past would be taken care of. What did he wish for first? Just a pipe and some ganja.. But what now? And what if the boon was only meant to be used once, then what would he do? That would be an outrage. And everyone else getting twice as much? What torture! This was the real dilemma. Maybe, if he could just have some of that fresh ganja his mind would be come more alert. He tapped the ganja into the pipe until it was completely full. His wife brought him an ember to light it with. He was thinking about what to wish for next. He had spent his entire life scrounging. Now what would be the best thing to wish for next? This or that, that or this? His mind felt tangled up in knots. He thought of so many things he wanted to wish for. This was the kind of leisure afforded by a full stomach. A person who goes hungry is not even allowed the luxury of clear thinking. His wife wouldn't stop nagging him. So, to please her he wished for a cannister of flour, a container of salt, a bin full of pepper and spices, and a bundle of firewood. It was odd — one moment he asked for things and the next moment there they were before him.

  The couple was astonished. His wife dashed off to light the fire. Why linger now? As happy as he was, he was still bothered. Everyone around him was getting twice as much! Nothing could be worse!

  The Brahmin's wife fed her husband and then sat down to eat. There's nothing like the pleasure of a full stomach. It was the first time in the Brahmin's entire life that he had eaten his fill, and it only made him sadder. He went to his wife and said, 'Dear, would you please do me one favour?'