***
We also have these in the US (tRump) and in Russia (put-in), to name just a few.
***
Category Archives: Art
Yes, indeed!
***
***
On my book (3)
***
I too have read 100’s (1,000’s?) of books and have felt greatly dissatisfied.
FOR A REALISTIC AND INTELLECTUALLY SATISFYING READ, DO READ: ‘THE HAVELI BY YESUDAS’ ON AMAZON KINDLE!
Titled THE HAVELI, and subtitled: THE GOOD NEED NOT COME SECOND!
surprisingly good
On my book (2)
***
MAN’S PERENNIAL Questions answered! In the form of a Novel, too!
Everybody wants JUSTICE, right? Ideas for How to Achieve that. In the form of a Novel, too!
Each book has a Free chapter at the beginning!
***
Delivering Agony, in Soft, Sweet words
***
…my efforts seem to be suffering same fate, ‘w/o’ words from my publisher.
P.S. Shall Not be going for job at pencil factories, though.
***
Carl made me Smile Again!
***
Had been feeling glum; and then You have Carl!
***
A Better idea
***
Thought of giving the chapters of contents of the three books. Might give a Better idea of The Haveli! 🙂
…
Table of contents, book one
Preface, Foreword, Notes
Chapter 1. Anand and Yoha introduced
2. Gopal Rai reaches India
3. The Beginnings of The Haveli
4. Gopal Marries Again
5. Life in The Haveli
6. Gopal Expands further
7. An Interlude
8. Law into Own hands
9. Gopal’s ‘Soldiers’
10. Kanshiram
11. Another Interlude
12. The Rogue, The Samosa-wala and the Policeman
13. Nag Narain thinks
14. The Vaidya
*
Table of contents, Book Two.
Chapter 1, After Gopal
2. Vijendra meets Yesudas
3. Kalia
4. Vijendra hands over
5. Meera and Yesudas
(Y speaking on himself,
Ugly things in the catholic church,
Real Crosses,
St. Joan of Arc,
Some advice to bishops(!),
Metanoia in the (catholic) church,
How remove a seal,
On Naming & Shaming,
6. Vijay’s Marriage
7. The Line hotel
8. Vijay adds a talent
The story of Pratap and Vinay
9. Vijay Jailed
10. Vijay’s Thoughts
11. Vikram’s account
12. The Hacker (very violent!)
13. The Beginning of a Different kind of Classes
14. Vikram’s story continued
15. Vikram at Yoha’s
What God wants
God does want some things!
An interesting anecdote: Why do I have this car?!
The Bible on caring.
16. Indian spirituality
Indianization
17. Happiness
How To Be Happy
18. On Society
19. Rajtantra
20. ANGER, apathy, criticism
21. A sharing for catholic priests
**
Table of contents, Book Three.
Chapter 1. The Journalist and the politician
2. Anand ruminates
3. Anand and Yoha
4. Sand looting, and police attacked
5. Vikram fumes
6. A train journey
7. The Citizen and the state
8. Anand’s story continued
New Year celebrations!
Dharma and religion
9. Law and order problems
10. Yoha speaks (on a Very surprising topic)
11. Yesudas speaks
Religion,
God,
The Trinity,
The Holy Eucharist,
The sacrament of Penance,
Sin,
Greed,
VOLUNTARY SIMPLICITY, and
Another Interlude: Anand’s new plans
Festivals,
Prayer,
DHYAAN,
The LGBTQ,
Priesthood and Celibacy,
Sex, Masturbation, Anal sex, Incest,
Marriage
Abortion,
Sacrifice, etc.
Anand’s new plans
Yoha’s neighbours and the rowdies
12. Forgiveness (I consider this perhaps the Most important chapter in this book)
13. Samson
14. Yesudas concludes
15. Yesudas’ demise
16. Anand writes a story
17. Refugees
18. Cricket!
19. EPILOGUE
***
On Immigration.
***
(The man with the scythe is delaying. Got to working again!)
…
An essay (in jist) by Yesudas.
On 17th July, 2023, c6 AM, IST, found CNN airing a programme on Immigration.
Here are things that I would add the following in view of solutions. Let’s first of all have a look at:
The Problems.
The whole thing is Mostly being seen from the viewpoint of Economics. Peoples wanting better lives, barging into affluent nations, (Mexicans and South Americans into the US, Rohingias into India, etc.), and the affluent nations suddenly becoming over burdened.
The resentment over this gives rise to things like the Lankan Atrocities on the Tamils, to… Eugenics, and hitler!
Of course the migrations are Not (only) for economic benefit. Political, Religious and Racial elements and reasons are also there.
A bit of History.
The sons of Israel into Egypt, Aryan immigration into India, Europians into the now US, would be good examples.
Solutions:
These have to be Multi faceted. …People are working on ‘How to address the Immigrants and the problems created by the Huge, sudden Influx.’
HOWEVER LONG IT TAKES, BODIES LIKE THE UN SHOULD TAKE THE STRONGEST ACTION AGAINST THOSE WHO ARE CAUSING THE EXODUS, and that includes the vatican, for Not speaking powerfully enough against wrongs, particularly Racism.
Points to Remember:
It does not happen Only to Others.
Heads rolled at the French and the russian revolutions.
With people revelling in Such Useless things as the wwe/wwf, the latest phones and the latest cars, trips to Timbaktu and Space, …the population falling, Are We Sure the World Order is going to be the Same? That today’s affluent will Not be tomorrow’s Emigrant?
To All who would Refuse to think that far, Hats Off.
***
Still…
***
(Should it be ‘there’ or ‘here?’) 🙂
Completed (the ‘writing/editing of my book) two days ago. It felt like Christmas.
It being Such a Large work (c 160,000 words) and my uncooperative health, I don’t think I shall take up any editing again. Your idea of sharing with You and then maybe reworking it did sound very good to me, and I very Highly appreciate it.
My CPU (read brain) has regressed to the 94 version. So am not even sure What to share.
For all that, sharing a few things here, which may not even represent my work.
…
For what it’s worth, here goes:
PREFACE
Hello Reader!
This is a tale of India, covering four generations.
Packed with action, this book will be enjoyed most by those who want something Intelligent to read, as opposed to the books where one feels, ‘Oh, come on, man, this cannot be happening!’ …That is by way of Action.
You are also going to be offered PLENTY of THOUGHTS; done so because Many have told me that they had not thought of that.
This is not written in a cinema formula. Yet life, in Reality, does have lots and lots of Smiles and tears, Successes and failures, times when we pause to think and when we are ever so active. Thus this book has some facts, and Lots of Fantasy, – but of the Believable kind!
The Haveli follows the style of Solzhenitsyn’s ‘A day in the life of Ivan Denisovich,’ and Robert M. Pirsig’s ‘Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance,’ – narrations of Action and Philosophy, but The Haveli is More Action packed. And the Philosophy is Not of the College kind.
You are getting around 1,60,000 words! …in the first; …in the second and the rest in the third. You will find Your money well spent.
It might seem that I think Violence is the Answer. No, I do Not. (Please find the answer in the chapter: ‘Anand and Yoha introduced.’) While I believe even the Harshest measures are necessary in some cases, You will see that I Prove that Nonviolent Action Alone is the Answer to our ills.
…
I have intentionally introduced a character by the name of Yesudas. …Wish You Happy Complications!
…
“That’s all very well; but Your book is Too full of Criticism.”
“Hmm, before I answer that, let me ask You: ‘Where do You live?’ …My book is Mostly about things/situations Indian.
“In India, a LOT of dust gathers in Your house/room and on things, even if You keep Your doors closed.
“If You rely on house-hold help to get Your cleaning done, You will have to point out to that person the Million places that they have missed. Missing out is Human nature, and practically the Norm. …Incidentally, this pointing out is criticism.
“The situation in India is like that and hence needs pointing out, which You call criticism.
“Children can keep On playing, but the head of the household has to be on her/his toes.”
***
FOREWORD
EVERYBODY WANTS GOOD TO WIN.
We face so much evil in this life. This evil is not a little red man with a trident and horns, but the pettiness, meanness, lack of kindness, and regressing from that, – yes, I call it regressing, – sheer maddening cruelties and brutalities, – add to that Brutalities through Inaction, like even some doctors not caring whether their patients live or die, and the notorious inaction of the politicos and, in my opinion, what I call the worse, uncaring attitude of the judiciary; most of which go unnoticed.
We have turned into Zombies, because deep down in our heart, we have come to the conclusion that Good cannot, and is not going to, win.
We have become like spoilt Fire Crackers that go ‘Phut in the night.’ There may be a little sound, like a baby passing air, but beyond that there is going to be nothing.
Minors raped and hung on a tree? One fart. Minister saying ‘Boys will be boys,’ over such kinds of things? When he says that when nothing happens to his girls, he being surrounded by like ten thousand security personnel at our expense! …Why, another fart.
There is No meaningful or Effective response from us. Mostly ineffective noises come over some of the media, by our writing some letters, giving petitions to collectors, who Immediately and faithfully consign them to their waste baskets, and our talking about it at the tea shops for 17 days. Then What?
Particular instances get resolved, especially because of Media attention, but the malaise remains.
Gang rapes take place, our Babies, six year olds, get raped and killed, – this while having been sent to highly acclaimed and expensive schools, not those smutty ones with a broken building which the teacher visits once a month to take a nominal attendance for his salary, – and our response? We go and stand in queue for the latest cell phone, just because its camera is ‘awesome.’ Much do we need awesome cameras indeed!
All these, the rapes and murder of babes, to name a few, happen because we have decided that evil has triumphed, that it is going to be there, and that Good cannot win.
But we have come to that conclusion without enough of thinking and trying. Apathy is our Biggest problem. Not just in India. Everywhere.
The good news is that things can be Changed. All that it takes of us is our Involvement.
I find so many good people, with so many good intentions, with so many talents, and with the desire to do so much, almost all standing by themselves, or with just their supporters. They, the thinkers, are standing (almost) alone, and going it alone. Hence the importance of ‘getting together’.
Many of my philosophical reflections will come with the next instalment! Indeed, the subsequent additions may be the really more important ones.
It may be said that this is a ‘Catharsis.’ No, I am not writing this just to vent my anger or to ‘get healed.’ I am aware that I am criticising. Actually, I want to make changes. I want to bring changes, in the WORLD and in the CATHOLIC CHURCH! This is nothing new, of course.
By the way, maybe this recalls to You this joke: “I do not want much, I just want things my way!”
But I am not joking.
Both the matter and the treatment is what P. G. Wodehouse would have called Juicy or Fruity. I call it Hot Stuff! It may be too hot, even! Sit near a fan.
Going back, let’s observe and recall stories, whether centuries old or of today, sagas, poetry, drama and movies. They all have to do with highlighting an evil and showing, oftentimes just fantasised, Good triumphing over it.
THE GOOD NEED NOT COME OUT SECOND!
Actually I had wanted the words above as the title of my book. Then I thought of using: ‘Good Can come out First’, just to keep it Positive. Now You have The Haveli.
…A Haveli, a Hindi word, is something bigger than a bungalow but smaller than a palace. The story is centred around it and those peopling it.
This story does not speak of one person, but of whole generations; how they generated the circumstances and how they defeated evil on a very wide basis indeed.
It is not the story of one superhero. Gopal’s story shows how he managed to bring about a whole line of people who lived like Heroes.
It shows how he was able to manage the finances, the careful detail by which he created a situation that saw to it that Justice and Goodness prevailed.
Can Good Really Win? …The people of The Haveli show that it Can, and How.
In most novels and cinemas, one villain, or his group is aimed at. In The Haveli We see evil across generations is fought against.
…Am flabbergasted at how We have ‘car pursuits’ with No regard for the general populace. Nothing like that happens here.
How do private individuals gather their intelligence? In The Haveli it is done through the workers of the village, employed as gardeners, cooks and household staff, (very common in India) even in enemy headquarters!
In the novel I had to address certain questions, like How things happened. How did one man build a seeming empire of both fortune and man power?
And Why was he successful?
Gopal, the hero of this first section, was the one who had established The Haveli as such. Anand is his great grandson.
The Haveli is written in three parts, and is interconnected, flowing from and following the first.
Sounds a bit Utopian? I beg to state that there is Nothing wrong with that. The Main question should be, Is it all plausible? It is.
***
NOTES:
When the interlacing accounts of Yoha/Anand come up, they are in Italic.
Having been a Speaker since my Youth, – I am seventy five+ now, – I bring my experience to Writing. And I decline to follow somebody else’s rules!
I use a lot of Capitalization. If ‘I’ can get a capital, why not ‘You?’ In my book You do!
The use of Capitalization in other instances and my Free Punctuation are to bring out an Emphasis, a sort of SPOKEN EFFECT. You’ll not only get used to it, I am Sure You’ll enjoy and appreciate it!
Throughout the book, the word Administration shall be used instead of the more common, and wrongly used word, the ‘government.’
Who is going to govern whom? Are We slaves? Do they think we are still living in the british raj?
All kinds of administrative works have to go on, but it is the ‘word’’ government that is to be Criticized, Condemned and Done Away With.
Nuf said, don’t You think? I will leave You with the story.
***
Table of contents, book one
(51,200 words)
Preface, Foreword, Notes
Table of contents, Book One.
Chapter 1. Anand and Yoha introduced
2. Gopal Rai reaches India
3. The Beginnings of The Haveli
4. Gopal Marries Again
5. Life in The Haveli
6. Gopal Expands further
7. An Interlude
8. Law into Own hands
9. Gopal’s ‘Soldiers’
10. Kanshiram
11. Another Interlude
12. The Rogue, The Samosa-wala and the Policeman
13. Nag Narain thinks
14. The Vaidya
******
Chapter One
Anand and Yoha Introduced
Yoha’s head was spinning. “I need to sit down, and maybe a tea would be nice,” said she. Her eyes were wide, and she was breathing a little fast. No wonder, after all! The events that had just taken place would produce that effect, thought Anand. He smiled and took her to a nearby tea stall that had facilities to sit, and ordered some samosas, one of their favourites, and tea.
“Wow,” she said, her eyes dreamy. “Two rowdies put in their place in just a couple of moves.”
“Oh, come on,” he protested, “It is not as if I had fought.”
“All of us girls love a fight, and particularly when our loved ones do that…”
“And more particularly when they come out winning,” interjected Anand with a smile.
“Excuse me, you had interrupted me,” said she with mock seriousness. Then with a smile she continued: “That is there, of course,” she responded. But her face was a little thoughtful. “What happened here was more than that. It was a decided victory of good over what was definitely a bit of evil. …How we long for that to happen, and find that victory just a daydream.”
“Hmm, yes, that it was. Mankind wants Good and Justice to remain triumphant, more so because it happens very little in real life,” said Anand.
“Come clean, Anand,” said she. “You were not perturbed at all. You were expecting something like that to happen,” she continued. So she had noticed, he thought with satisfaction. It was a trait he would have liked in his wife.
He sighed. Maybe this was the best time to start to tell her about his family. He had every intention of marrying her! His mind went back to the episode, and recalled the efficiency of his security detail.
***
Anand and Yoha had finished their studies in the UK, and were returning home. They had met causally while studying, had started a bantering relationship which in time turned to love.
Yoha had wanted Anand to meet her parents and relatives in Tamil Nadu. Anand’s parents had agreed to the idea, and they had alighted at Mumbai, and wanted to spend a little time sightseeing the city, as their train was to depart many hours later. Yoha wanted a ride in the suburban trains. They were warned to utterly avoid the rush hours, between some 7 to 10 in the morning, and the similar rush at the return of the office goers in the evening.
They bought a return ticket to Borivili, about 30 kms from Mumbai central, went as far as that station, and directly got onto the next train going back to Mumbai. Due to the comparative absence of rush, at the beginning of the journey anyway, they both got window seats opposite each other. Yoha could not have enough of observing everything, the interior of the coach, so different from those in the UK, the scenery out of the window, which was one unending cement sea of settlements, with lots of garbage thrown about as if for decoration. …It was somewhere in between that the two got on.
They seemed to be recognized. The friends could sense the panic in the passengers. The newly arrived young men seemed to have had a good bit of some drug, not enough to have lost their control over themselves, but yet enough to make them feel bolstered, and on top of the world. And their business seemed to be this: making the passengers pay for their next shots. As they smirkingly progressed down the coach, money was thrust into their palms. Either they had some concealed weapons, or had a history of violence, which was known to these regular passengers… which made them comply with alacrity.
One of the rogues was not satisfied with that. He deliberately brushed against the women, and one pretty girl he hugged, and held on impudently. They had not yet approached the friends. Anand was at a disadvantageous position, on the inside, so to say, so that he could not have fought them. The best places for that would have been the aisles, not that they were not crowded.
It happened when the train started slowing for the next station. A girl who had been standing near the pretty one being harassed, who had already put in a small contribution in the man’s hand, tapped the man on the shoulder. With a slight irritation, yet surprised that somebody would call his attention to give him something, as he supposed, he turned. He only received a solid blow to the underside of his nose from the base of the hand from this second girl for his pains. The blow was delivered with what she would have called a medium power, enough to cause intense pain, breaking cartilage, yet not breaking bones, which could have killed. Having done that, she calmly walked off shouldering her bag, and alighted with the passengers who were getting off.
As she was leaving, the ruffian got a further shock, in the form of a very solid kick to the side of his right knee by a Karate side-kick from another passenger. A karate side-kick, particularly when delivered to the knee, is intended to break it, and this one did. The petty criminal fell down in a lump, moaning. The broken knee had also ended his criminal career.
It all seemed prearranged, that one would initiate, and that the second, having more room to deliver a kick with the emptying of passengers, would do that. He also did not wait to see the results, and walked off, also in a most unobtrusive manner.
In the meantime, another young man had delivered a really solid punch to the other crook’s jaw, sideways, dislocating it, – which takes some doing, and much practice, – and ended the attack by stamping on his instep with quite some force, multiple times, in quick succession, with the hind edge of the heel of his shoe, which was a solid one. It all took much less time than it takes to describe, and he too ambled off.
As Anand explained to Yoha later, they would have stayed on for at least a few seconds more to make sure that they did not pull out some hidden weapons. That was not necessary in this case as they had both fainted, the result of very calculated attacks.
Nobody in the compartment wanted to remain there, but the people saw no logic in trying to crowd into other, already crowded compartments, though a small group of people who had wanted to get in, after taking one look, did hurry off to the neighbouring compartments.
Many passengers had witnessed this, but nobody was telling, as there had been no love lost between them and the robbers. There had been no policemen in the compartment, or else, naturally, the rogues would not have tried their hand. Nor were there policemen near their particular carriage at that moment. Anand took Yoha’s hand and was taking her along, telling her not to look back, but to imitate the others, most of whom had their heads half down, and were moving in an intense, hurried movement. She complied, with some effort. He just intended to take the next train.
It was only at the next station that some people (in the first train) called some policemen who happened to be nearby, and told them about the two wounded crooks. The policemen had wondered why the people had not helped those who seemed to be injured passengers. But when they came closer and saw who these were, they hauled off the screaming, moaning, half fainting duo without much ceremony. Upon discovering that neither of them could walk, they phoned up for stretchers with their walkie-talkies, the mainstay of all administrative personnel. These arrived after some time and the rogues were taken to the RPF holding cell. In all matters of Railway security in India, it is the RPF, the Railway Protection Force that handles such matters. The duo was treated to a liberal dose of kicks and blows by the cane. Usual practice.
Though there had been closed circuit television cameras in the compartments, the attackers could not be traced, as that occurs by recognition and reporting, and nobody came up for these. In actuality they had been part of Anand’s security detail, and the particular ones who had taken part in the attack moved off from Mumbai by circuitous routes to The Haveli.
The bodyguards had murmured into their mikes, and the second team, which had been following them, drew up.
The guards changed, and the three who had attacked the rogues went, as we said, separate ways, to points predetermined for them. From there, arrangements would be made for their return all the way to The Haveli, to lie low for some time, or shifting them to other areas.
***
Yoha and Anand took the train to Chennai in the evening, the tickets taken care of by The Haveli staff. The year was 2015.
Anand had topped in his class, and Yoha had come second. Rivals when in England, they also had this close friendship going. Not that the two had any sexual relationships going between them. They were both from very traditional families, well brought up, and were in no hurry.
Both had been interested in novels, but had never got the time to read them, and now in Chennai, made a stop over, staying in a hotel, and thought of watching ‘English’ movies. They had just seen Taken, and were coming out of the theatre, and were walking back to their hotel.
“Hmm, I quite liked that movie,” said Yoha.
“What! The hero runs and catches up with cars, knows exactly where the cars are going, and jumps exactly on to the boat, and all that, and you like that?” asked Anand.
“Yeah, that was the yucky part,” agreed she. “As were those scenes where he was shooting at eight or ten men, and gets away with killing most, without even getting a scratch. But on the whole it was quite good, and I would not mind watching it again,” she concluded.
Anand smiled. “Speaking only of yucky parts, I am reminded of the videos we used to watch at home, in our case Hindi movies. They were just like this. Only, the hero would for the most part be beaten up in the beginning, and then he would notice a bit of blood on his lip, and magically that seemed to turn things round. After that, our hero could beat up eight villains and win!” They both laughed.
***
They watched another supposedly great action movie, for both of them liked that genre. But they noticed the hero lifting not one but two huge looking machine guns, one in each hand and shooting away; in another episode the hero had picked out targets fifty metres away with just a handgun, where the ungodly were blazing away with machine guns without hitting him. They both got up as if with one mind and walked out.
Meanwhile Yoha had noticed two young men who always seemed to be with them. One was roughly clad and had an efficient looking shoulder bag on him, and the other was better dressed, though not in the executive class, and had a small briefcase with him. These two had varied their pace, dallied, crossed roads, overtaken them and had fallen behind, and since they did not bother to hide their movements from them, she realized that they were Anand’s bodyguards, and that the two were constantly interested in finding out if others were following them! Now these two took up positions about three metres to either side of them.
“Caught You, Anand, You naughty fellow, I have spotted Your bodyguards. …You really are a prince, aren’t You?” asked Yoha.
He grinned. “They showed themselves to You, my Dear. They wanted You to know that they were there; they wanted You to recognize their presence and to become comfortable in that, and to let You know that You are being protected.”
She considered that. “But I do think I have noticed quite a lot of different characters there, including girls. That would make it a really Big team!”
“It sure is,” he answered. “I am assigned eight of them, which includes vehicles, as well as the electronics.”
“Weapons?” she asked.
“Those assigned to me are experts in UAC, Unarmed Combat, that is; and the team would have two pistols. But we have never had to fire a single shot in the history of The Haveli,” he said. And he seemed to be quite proud of that.
“Do You mean You, or they, would not fire those pistols? Why not?” she continued.
“Oh, my,” he sighed. “You do ask a lot of questions, don’t You my Dear? …You want an answer for that just now?”
“Of course, Anand. I for one am going nowhere in particular at the moment.” She folded her arms.
He smiled and said, “Oh, I am just feeling lazy, I suppose. Now, answering Your question, in the event of an attack, either on us or on those around us, the citizens, my friends the guards would not only neutralize it, but would also render the opposition incapable.
“The rowdy elements would not only be rendered unable to follow up on the violence, but on a more permanent basis. You must have noticed, on the train, that both of the ruffians have shattered bones on their legs, so that they would find threatening violence on others in the future very difficult indeed.
“On top of all this, we believe in leaving some Permanent Pain. Nothing makes a Saint out of habitual crooks like good old, solid, long lasting pain. Okay, perennial pain produces anger and thence hostility, but that is another matter. The point is that they shall not be able to channelize that anger, doing any serious harm. Going back to the event on the train, You might have noticed broken jaw bones for one and a shattered foot for the other.
Different blows, just so there is no particular MO. And all done without the aid of firearms. Much can be done without them,” he concluded.
“MO? What is that, some sort of ‘military term?” she asked.
“Modus Operandi, more of a police term,” he replied. “Most criminals resort to the same pattern, which makes them traceable to the police.”
“Still, why no guns?” she reminded him.
“Mainly because they can injure others, and are so loud,” he smiled and said. “Everything You want to accomplish with a gun can be carried out without one, without attracting attention to Yourself.”
“What about a long distance attack on You?” she asked again.
“Those kinds of things can be carried out only by experts, who are terribly expensive, and who also want and need a lot of time and preparation for that.
“Our presence and travel plans are known only to a select few.”
“But, eh, excuse me for asking this…” she noticed that he was grinning and indicating that she should come out with her question. “Can’t Your people be ‘reached?’”
“You must have heard of the Mafia and such,” said Anand. “We are the Opposite of Mafia, but just as, or more loyal. That criminal outfit creates not bonds but chains of terror due to which people keep their mouths shut. In our case, The Haveli has always rendered Service. People stand by us because they love us. You will see how and why as You come to know more about The Haveli.”
“Extraordinary,” she said. “But how can You keep such a huge organization going? Are Your finances limitless?”
“No more than any large business house,” he said. “But while they, sadly, concentrate on making money, and as a sort of ‘side business’ involving themselves in a little philanthropy, which is giving people things instead of themselves, we of The Haveli have found that Helping People brings the Greatest Joy and Satisfaction. And we spend very little on Non essentials. That gives us the money!” he said triumphantly.
Yoha walked along, digesting all this, and came up with more queries. She evidently was a great one at this!
“But is not all this a bit extreme, downright cruel?”
“Just what do You propose, my Dear Yo?” asked Anand. “The purpose of Justice should be the Cessation of Criminality, and that is being effected. Take the case of the two petty criminals on the train. They must have received many beatings in their lives, maybe jail sentences. But did it change them?
“From what our team gave them, they will not be able to continue in that path. The incessant pain would indeed fill them with anger, but being affected in the leg, others would easily be able to defend themselves, overpower them if necessary, and they would know it. Problem solved.
“But The Haveli has another side to it. Two of our people are, even as of now, following up on them, seeing to their treatment and enquiring on their backgrounds and families. Besides offering help to the families, we shall give the two the chance to redeem themselves, and if they are willing, we shall stand them major treatments, and establish some small business or such for them. …We do not do this in the case of major criminals,” he said, a little shortly, thought Yoha.
Another pause from her, who within minutes came up with this: “But is that not Taking the law into Your own hands? And Why should You do it when Nobody else does?”
“As to the first part of Your question, it requires a long answer, and You shall have it when You come to The Haveli. As for the second part, We do it because we are Lions and not sheep. Because the majesty of the so-called Justice, police or the law and order of the administration came up with Zilch; had, and has allowed criminals like these to exist and even flourish. You will find it very different in our Area. Just Why should people go on suffering?
And actually it takes just a little Effort in training the Body and the Mind to become a Lion. It is there for the taking,” he finished.
In Chennai, Anand and Yoha took a taxi, to, as he said, a friend’s home. It was to the house of a wealthy, forty-ish man, whose elders had benefitted from the kindness of, as it came to be known, The Haveli. The body guards knew these addresses, and had directed Anand there.
From Chennai they travelled to Trichy, Yoha’s home town. It is actually a city, ancient, famous, and sprawling.
Anand joined Yoha’s family at their dinner, and enjoyed the antics of the boisterous children.
…
Yoha’s father was a professor in one of the colleges there. He had ancestral property, and he had a three story house. There were six television sets in the house, and the children had the rights over one of them.
As Anand and Yoha happened to pass the children’s television room, they noticed a small argument over some show. It turned out that one of the neighbour’s children on a visit wanted to watch a so-called wrestling match held between ropes on a raised dais. Anand found that it was a WWE match, which name they keep changing (!) – and found his hackles rising.
“Hello, kids,” he addressed them. “May I suggest that You watch something else, or, if You do like to watch matches of this sort, watch some boxing match. In WWE they use the most absolutely fake punches. You will notice that they use their forearms to punch, never the fist. Absolutely fake. If that becomes a habit with You, You will find that it is of NO use to You if You have to defend Yourselves.”
It was not well taken. “Uncle, do You not know that people have died during this?” asked one of the Youngsters.
“My Dears, they use a lot of throws, use the thickest cushions for the flooring, and are trained not to hurt or to get hurt, but if somebody lands wrongly, it could lead to serious injury, of course,” he said. They switched to different channels, though they did not seem convinced by his advice.
One of Yoha’s older nieces spoke up: “As You say, uncle. That kind of wrestling or whatever, So popular in the US, is nothing but showing off body builders, and play acting. My gym trainer said that, too. …Would you like to have a match with anybody of your choice from among Us, with you following WWE kind of fighting, and We using different methods?” she asked the assembled kids. …Nobody fed on WWE would have taken up that challenge, (if he were wise). Nor did they. And they watched another programme.
Anand was impressed. His admiration for Yoha’s family was growing.
One of Yoha’s cousins, a tall, good looking fellow, who thought no end of himself, and had been odious to all the womenfolk of Yoha’s age, did not like this person she was marrying. He kept throwing Anand unpleasant looks. After supper Anand invited him for a walk in the garden.
They went out, Mohan with his mocking smile. As they paced side by side, Anand simply took hold of his index finger, lifted the hand, ducked under it, and now the hostile Young man’s finger was in Anand’s painful grip behind his own back. And he had thought of himself as a superhero. He was first of all mortified.
Anand did not exert pressure, but led the Young man along on a walk while he talked quietly to him. “Mohan,” he said, “You are one of Yoha’s relatives, and I have no quarrel with You whatsoever. But I do not intend to put up with those nasty looks. What do You say?”
Mohan had the grace to say Uncle. He came from a good family after all. He asked his new friend to teach him some Martial Arts. Anand said that that could be managed, but that he himself had been learning it from the age of three on a regular basis and in a disciplined manner, and so the thing would take quite some time. Mohan said that he would like to come to The Haveli to learn it.
When Mohan went back into the house the changes in him, confident now but not cocky, were sensed particularly by the girls, who liked it, and also thought that Yoha’s ‘would be’ had something to do about it.
Yoha had another question now. “My Dear Anand, Why believe so much in Violence? Or, why use violence at all?”
Anand knew the question had to come. He smiled as he said, “For the answer to this question also I shall ask You to wait, my Dear. I am sure You will enjoy listening to it from the mouths of the real experts at The Haveli. I would ask You to note down this Your question for future reference!”
She made a mock gesture of noting something down, and said, “One query, duly noted for the future.”
“Very good. For all this, first You have to hear my (great) grandfather’s story. He was the one who established both The Haveli and what we call Its Culture.”
But Anand found that things did not end with that. Later that evening Yoha informed him that her father wanted to talk to him.
When he went to their library for this, he found not just her father, but her mother, one elder sister and two brothers there, as well. And the atmosphere was somewhat chilly, as he made out from their faces.
He gathered that Yoha had talked to her parents about the events, and the Violence had not gone down well with them.
After he had sat down, her father opened the account. “So You people seem to be very Free with Your violence, Mr. Anand. Perhaps You would not even mind Killing,” he said.
First of all Anand was not too happy about the title ‘Mr.’ being given to him. It stood for distance and formality, as though he were not a member of the family. He let it ride.
Out of the corner of his eye he noticed Yoha fidgeting. He smiled at her, let a few moments pass before answering: “One thing We of The Haveli, as a Policy, Absolutely Avoid is Killing Anybody. Though we have a very sizable security detail, Nobody has been killed by us. I can assure You of that.”
“But why do You go around kicking people, Anand?” asked Suresh, one of Yoha’s brothers.
“Oh, come on, Suresh,” answered Anand. “Evidently You are all referring to the events that happened in Mumbai. Now, those two fellows were not just demanding money. One of them was groping the women. …What would You have done if that was happening to Your sister?”
“Would have walloped him, of course,” he answered.
“What would You have done if the victim was Your cousin?” asked Anand again.
“Same thing,” answered Suresh shortly.
“And at what point would Your intervention stop? If the girl is Your fifth cousin? The seventh cousin? Your poor relative? …Would You expect others to help You if things were happening to You? But You would perhaps Not help if it were happening to Others.”
There was a goodly silence. “That’s a wonderful lesson in Civic Sense and Responsibilities, indeed,” said the professor, as he got up to embrace his future son in law.
“But is Violence the policy of Your family? It does bother me,” said Yoha.
“I would request You to give me one or two days to answer You Most Satisfactorily. In the meantime…” he said.
“Don’t be an idiot, bhaiya,” said Yoha’s sister. “You are Our Esteemed guest, and We can see that Yoha loves You.”
…
Patte todna
(Literally means Breaking Leaves)
Anand’s invitee arrived. Anand introduced her.
“Among the people that I have met, and one I am Most impressed by, is a roughly 36 year old Adivasi lady called Sosan… this lady! India has many who would be called Aborigines; those in the North East, those in Central India (Many tribes with common cultural elements, but separated by language, and this group was called Adivasi, the Original dwellers), and some living in Western Tamil Nadu.
[ The very Geography is a proof of Invaders into India. Aryans in particular, having domesticated Horses and having Iron weapons, were able to push the Dravidians to the South, while the Adivasis retreated into the forests of Central India, other tribes going onto the hills of the North East, and the Aryans spread themselves mainly across the Gangetic plains. The remains of Harappa and Mohenjo-Daro show that those cities were more Dravidian than otherwise. ]
“During the course of Our conversations Sosan had shared with me this thing called ‘Patte todna.’ I had seen that employing its principles would bring about THE PERFECT SOLUTION against Corruption, and it was ABSOLUTELY Non Violent, to boot; a solution We had all been searching for.
I had presented the idea at The Haveli where it was received very well. Thence I had asked her to speak about it to different groups, to which she had graciously agreed, though she is quite busy, being the head mistress of a Teachers’ Training College.
A private jet was arranged for Sosan. She has graced Us with her presence within 24 hours.”
…
The first question they put to her was: “How do We address You?”
“All my respectful elders, please call me by my name, and for all of You, Chokras and Chokris, (a jocular way of addressing youngsters), I am Didi (elder sister),” she smilingly said. That settled amidst some laughter, they progressed to the nitty gritty.
“Sosan akka will speak to Us about the custom of Breaking leaves,” said Anand and gave her the floor.
“Adivasi areas are non-tourist spots,” began she. “As such Anybody would be excused for not knowing about Us, Adivasis. Most of Our land is on plateaus, bare, for the most part, with many trees, but with scanty rain, and no rivers. Rich in coal and minerals, yet they have not made Us rich, as We are ‘Gatherers’ from time immemorial. ‘Education’ remained unknown until recent years, till catholic missionaries came into Our land. All this will help You understand Our ‘quaint’ customs.
“One important part of Our Culture is, being a Joyful People in spite of Our extreme poverty; many might satisfy themselves with just ‘The Water in which Rice has been washed,’
She choked here and had to pause, while the group was aghast. And she continued:
“Nights would see Us Dancing communally.
“Now We come to the Patta todna. This refers to a custom practised Mainly at Our Weddings, with the whole village getting together for the celebration. Food, mainly the fruit of hunts, is contributed by everybody.
“Since We use Leaves for plates and even drinking vessels, getting them in Huge numbers cannot be done unless Everybody pitches in. Here, if a member of the community has gone against the tribe’s or the village’s norms, the edict that Nobody will go to pluck leaves for that family, is passed. Which would mean their whole celebration would be a Flop. Few would dare to face it.
As such, Patte Todna is a Method of Keeping Control over the Tribe.
…
The group had expected something much lengthier. They were pleasantly surprised by the brevity of her presentation, and the group clapped in appreciation.
…
“AND THAT, NON COOPERATION, RIGHT FROM COOKS, DRIVERS TO HOUSEHOLD HELP REFUSING TO BE OF SERVICE TO CROOKS IS WHAT THE HAVELI ADVOCATES NOW,”
said Anand.
***
“OK, my Dear Anand,” said Yoha, “just how did Your family gain so much money to do so much? I think You told me sometime that Your great grandfather, Gopal Roy, was it not? – was a refugee?”
“In that You are right, my Dear,” said Anand. “The establishment of The Haveli itself becomes an interesting story. But are You Sure You want to hear it now? For it would take time.”
…It was decided that they would listen to this extended introduction by and by.
…
Before bedtime Yoha turned up at Anand’s door. He could see that something was eating her. “Penny for Your thoughts,” he said with a smile.
“What are You, Anand?” she asked. “We are rich, but do not have teams of body guards in attendance! Are You a prince? How come nobody has heard of Your princely estate?”
He deliberated. “We are not, as You said, a princely family. We do seem to be rolling in money. But it is all honestly earned,” he said.
She waited, evidently expecting more. Anand sensed that.
“You saw that We were welcomed into a home in Chennai where We had stayed last night. In Chennai itself We would have Many, Many homes where We would be welcomed. We also have Many houses like that in Mumbai where We could have stayed had We wanted to. It would be true All over India.
“That is because these people are indebted to The Haveli. Indebted becomes too simple a word in Our case. These friends would protect Us to Extraordinary lengths. It is because of a Reverse-Mafia syndrome, if I may call it that. The Mafia helps out, and wants it back with interest. …The Haveli helps, without expecting anything back in material terms. …As to How One single person and his progeny achieved this within just a few decades makes a Very interesting story. Shall We talk about this tomorrow?” He smiled.
She nodded, came over to him and kissed him on the cheek, and went to her room.
******
Chapter Two
Gopal Rai reaches India
“Ours, or The Haveli, is not mythological, nor science fiction …least of all based on the powers of ghostly creatures, popularly and locally known as bhoots, bootham in the South. Nor are We a bunch of individuals with super powers, in league,” began Anand.
“Ours is a most down to earth Family, who labour to ‘Make Good Win.’ I do not know how India had been in the millennia following the avatar Ram and Krishna; Of course both these avatars were to destroy evil as Krishna had said in the Gita, in the famous sloka:
‘ParitraanaayaSaadhunaam, VinaashaayaChaDushkritaam, DharmSansthaapnaartthaaya, SambhavaameeYugeYuge.
Gita 4:8.
“Biblical times certainly show that the ‘bad’ had the upper hand,” he continued. “The pharaoh enslaving whole peoples, The Romans making lavish use of slave labour, etc, which, Unfortunately, continue to this day. I would call Justice being played with, politicians laughing away at the masses, as ‘The Bad having the Upper hand.’
“But We at The Haveli believe that ‘The Good Need not come out Second.’ What happened in Mumbai is an example.” He smiled.
“What I want to hear is How The Haveli got enough money for all this. Organizing this number of people. Keeping them protected, etc, etc,” said Yoha. Anand nodded and began…
***
Gopal Roy reached India – Alone! He had lost All of his relatives during the hellish journey.
“I would call that starting from scratch,” interjected Yoha. Anand nodded in appreciation, and continued.
He had practised a little Yoga all his life, and he had no sicknesses. But his cheeks were sunken now, the cheek bones had become prominent, and he was gaunt from his journey, though his wiry body was to turn very strong. And his eyes were to become permanently bloodshot. And He realized that at just the age of 35, his hair had turned grey!
Why were the gods angry with him, he wondered bitterly. He was merely one of the thousands who had gone, in his case to Burma, for trade. Many of his relatives had been there, and it had been they who had called him over. They were in the Jewels business, and had been doing well. The Burmese had had no particular animus against Indians. And then suddenly the world had gone mad, whole nations had risen up against one another; enemy soldiers had invaded, and everybody had started to flee, including the locals.
Gopal had known that the journey would take many, many days, and that food would be a major problem. He had a quantity of beaten rice bought, distributed it among his people and took sugar and salt.
With the other Indians, he had proceeded west towards India, clans meeting together, trying to help one another, getting separated, and dying by the hundreds due to lack of food and water, mainly water. The enemy soldiers had taken to sending out scouts on horseback just to poison ponds, wells and other water sources. They had drunk the urine of animals and their own. Like soldiers, they had chewed on leaves to quench their thirst, and spat into the mouths of their children to quench theirs.
He had been unlucky. Soldiers might have done well on a diet of beaten rice and such, but his family, that of jewellers, used to comfort, had the hardest time. They had put up the bravest front. Not one complained. But it was just not to be done. The tension, the weather, food and lack of water told on the smallest children first. After a few days, the old could not walk any more, it was impossible to carry them and the other young children at the same time; and they had to hurry. Always hurry. The soldiers had overrun the country, and now they were after valuables, but did not just loot. Perhaps they were rogue elements. In any case, they took the women away, even young children, and found it easier to kill those resisting, than otherwise.
Soon the old just sat down under trees and told, and even ordered, their families to keep proceeding. It broke Gopal’s and everybody’s heart to see these things. In his case, he found that he was bereft of all his family much before they reached India. They had had neither the means nor the time to see to their end or the last rites. It was maddening, it was horrible.
They had taken trains and buses whenever possible, but these were few and far between. Paradoxically, these means of transport became reasons for many of the members of many families getting separated, as a few got in, and others had to wait for other conveyances, sometimes finding them, sometimes not, and many times not connecting with those who had left earlier.
He was one of the few who had become totally alone. When that happened, he had gone half mad. He ceased caring about himself. He was not wholly aware of what he was doing. But he felt something, some force, impelling him to keep going. Maybe the spirits of his ancestors were doing it.
He separated himself from the others who were also fleeing. He declined to go with others whom he knew from his days in Burma. Numbers were of no use from the pursuing soldiers. In such situations, groups were easier to track.
On the other hand, animal instincts seemed to have taken him over. All those days of walking, his fierce will, plus those instincts, made him much better prepared to face his enemies. These were many. There was the forest. He learnt to find ways through it. He learnt how to keep to the fringes, thus avoiding the bigger animals, but never coming out of it, so as not to become visible. He made himself eat bugs and ants, and found which berries and fruits were edible, by eating just a little, waiting for giddiness, loose bowels or other reactions, before eating more of them. He kept on chewing lots of leaves.
His head was all woozy; he thought at times that he was living in his dreams. He taught himself to climb trees. At night he learnt to sleep on branches of trees, finding ways not to fall off, ignoring the complaints of birds that had already claims there, having snakes slithering over him, throwing them off, finding that having a hand-sized stick made this job easier. His hands had become hardened. He wilfully ignored pain and discomfort, and drove himself.
Author’s note: Our’s is Not a Jeweller’s family. The Haveli is a figment of my imagination. Yet much of what happened to Gopal, including the loss of his family, was suffered by my own father, who had shared with me these things.
One night, from one of those night-time perches on a tree, he watched some soldiers finish off a man barehanded, in just two or three swift, efficient moves. Their target was a man, who seemed somewhat well to do and well fed, having a few attendants with him. The group had been lying down, foolishly in the open, on a grassy knoll, slightly scattered. Perhaps the man was relying on his attendants to protect him from the marauding soldiers. That they were absolutely rank amateurs was easily apparent from the fact that they posted no guards, and that all of them went to sleep! Two of them had what appeared to be shot guns, though they might have had pistols of sorts hidden in their apparel.
They might have been fifty or sixty metres away from where he was. The soldiers had let them doze off. Two of the soldiers were assigned to approach and cover the men with the shot guns with their rifles. In any case, all of them, the soldiers, were alert looking and vigilant. For all their boots, they had been extremely quiet, as only soldiers know how.
One of them, with his gun on his back by its strap, went to the rich looking man, and gave him a light kick. The others had all the attendants, who had stirred, covered with their guns. The man sat up, frightened. In one swift movement, the soldier went and knelt behind him, brought both his palms together and clapped them, hard, on the man’s ears. The ear drums must have shattered, and man must have got stunned. Next, with his knee against the man’s spine, the soldier brought one hand around his throat, held it with the other, and snapped the neck by lifting the hand. He waited for the twitching to subside, then calmly came around, and a brief search yielded the result, a black cloth bag at the man’s waist. He opened the strings and had a look inside.
The man’s attendants, petrified onlookers to the scene, got up and started running when they were told to do so. They had been told to drop the visible guns, were searched for hidden arms, which were confiscated, and the fellows just scattered. Now saving their own lives became their priority. They were frightened out of their wits, and ran off.
The senior soldier called his companions and let them have a look at the new loot. They all shook their fists in glee. Then they melted off into the night.
Gopal had seen much death. Even those killed violently. But this was the first time he had seen a man being killed. He used all his might and energy not to cry out, not to make the slightest of sounds or movement. Gopal found that he had urinated on himself. It had not mattered, as practically the whole civilian group had done that, and some had defecated as well.
…As he was reaching Indian borders, he took to keeping himself on the fringes of larger groups. Their members had given him hard looks, but let him be.
Finally he reached Calcutta (now Kolkata. Names at the time of the characters are used), and for many days he wandered along the streets of the city, which seemed to calm him. His father had told him that this was his native place. At about the age of 12, his father had brought him to the city, and they had walked. Somewhat on the outskirts, after crossing a cross road, his father had shownshowed him a small house behind a more modern looking, biggish house. Gopal gathered that that small house had been theirs. But he had been too young to notice the names of streets, or the area, and without those, to find his ancestral house was out of the question. Not, he supposed, that that would have helped. Even on that first trip, Gopal remembered, his father had not gone to the house, much less entered it. Who knows what all secrets it carried, thought he. He kept wandering.
As the days went by, he saw that he was getting ideas. He did not feel interested in life, but he definitely was getting ideas. Maybe it was the mass of bustling humanity. Maybe it was their energy, their vibrations. One thing he did have. A thin, small cloth belt, holding a number of quality Burma rubies, diamonds and other assorted precious stones he had started with.
He had succeeded in keeping these not because of any special hiding place, but because he had kept alone, and moved like an animal. If the soldiers had found him, they would have found the stones. What had saved the stones was not the hiding place, which was common enough. Neither was it his swiftness or speed, nor was it his strength, which compared to that of the soldiers, was as nothing. It had been his instinctive keeping away from the crowds. The groups were stalked, followed, searched and looted. Brains, though unconscious, rather than brawn, he thought. Now that he had these stones, whatever was he going to do with them, he wondered despondently.
He was wearing just a dhoti, much torn, and very dirty. And his precious stones, precious in every sense of the word, were rolled up in a cloth which became like a belt, which he had wrapped around his midriff, tightly. The dhoti was tied on top of it.
Seeing his decrepit condition, he had not been troubled by the ruffians. He did not look like someoneas someone who would have anything. He took stock. He saw that he also had what would come to about three hundreds in Indian rupees. That itself was a fortune. These were the kinds of things why the enemy soldiers had been chasing them. Gopal knew how to be wily. He touched his monies only when he was absolutely alone, and when it was dark. He made sure that the bag from which he took out money for his daily expenses and such contained no more than a few rupees, most of that in coins. These too were tightly rolled up, lest they jingle.
***
After about ten days, the city lost its interest for him. But he had noted the markets, and the areas where the jewellers had their shops! He desperately wanted to sleep, and that meant a sleep of days, but thought that this was not the time.
He wanted to live near Kashi, (Benares, Varanasi now), where, somehow, his heart was telling him to settle down. From Calcutta, it was a distance of nearly 700 kms. He could have caught a train to Mughalsarai, which was near Kashi. But there was danger from robbers! One never knew when they would be there, attacking. Poor dresses did not fool them. In fact, many merchants wore very ordinary clothes, put their valuables in small cloth bags, which they kept pushed under the opposite seats, so that they could keep a watch on them! But robbers were aware of these tricks too!
Before he finally decided to embark on his journey further west towards Kashi, he did things about his unkempt appearance. He found a barber who had been idle for some time, went to him, put a rupee in front of him, and sat down on the stone before him, which was the entire barber shop! The barber would not easily have taken-on such a rough job, but the money, much more than what he would have got for an ordinary job, encouraged him to get on with it. Gopal told him to cut his hair, and to trim his beard.
When that was completed, he dusted himself off, and still bare-chested, went to the numerous clothes shops on the way side, and bought two pairs of very ordinary dresses, consisting of dhoties and kurtas, those long Indian shirts which button just at the top, a bag, and a most ordinary pair of slippers. Those he had started with had been long abandoned, worn out at the heels. His feet looked dirty and ragged. It would all change, he knew. He ambled off, wearing his new slippers, which, for all their cheapness, made a difference.
He moved along the banks of the Hoogly, which was crowded with people. He kept on walking for some kilometres till the crowds were behind him, found an isolated spot, put his bag on the shore and had a bath, keeping a very wary eye for anybody approaching the place. Nobody came, for which he was very grateful, and came back to the Howrah station.
All that Gopal had was in what was ‘foreign’ money for India. Since Calcutta was a metro, and on the border, so to say, he had got by with the notes and coins he had started with. He kept walking, found a money changer whose looks he liked, drove a hard bargain, and got all his currency changed into Indian ones. He concluded all this by tucking them into his dhotie, going to a corner of the shop for it. The shop keepers ignored him while he did so, as this was normal.
Going to the station, he made enquiries, and found out biggish stations where he could arrive at by evening, if he started in the morning. He travelled by local trains like the locals, who would commute only for small transactions, have small monies, not worth the looting! He broke journey many times, sleeping on platforms, near ticket counters, where there was always some light, and people moving about.
He was in no hurry whatsoever, and on the eighth day of his train journey, on his ninth train in India, from what he heard (a businessman learns many languages), was nearing Kashi.
He had been thinking all the time, and noting many things during his travels. He became very much aware that his ancestors were very near him and guiding him. As they were approaching Mughalsarai, he noted a largish haveli (bungalow), in much disrepair, some half a kilometre from the railroad. Its grounds and parks looked untended, and there were not many people about the place. The train stopped a little way past the haveli, and he noted that the name of the town was Krishnasagar.
It was only as he was approaching Mughalsarai that any sizable bungalows could be seen, at least from the railroad. Gopal’s reconnaissance had to be done by this ‘approach time,’ – approachability from the railway station. He had no intention whatsoever of going around on foot, horse or horse cart, searching for the largish grounds, hopefully with a largish building, in good repair. These, combined with an owner who was ready to sell outright, was a very, very tall order indeed, but even those things happen.
Gopal kept to the train, and noted two more bungalows before he reached Mughalsarai, and four more on the other side. But none of these others satisfied him, as they were on the smaller side, compared to what he had in mind. At the next station, he noticed a train standing there facing the way he had come, hurried on down, and hurrying to buy a new ticket, got onto it. He need not have bothered. The train took its own sweet time starting. Though he fidgeted a little at the delay, he kept his calm, and got down at Krishnasaagar.
All kinds of small shops can be found near railway stations and bus stands. More importantly, eateries and barber shops! He had been eating meagre meals all this while. He first went and had a celebratory glass of tea! His next stop was to a place that sold slippers, of which he bought a pair of medium quality ones this time. On the road side, he left the ones he had bought at Howrah, and wore the new ones. Then, going to a clothing shop, he procured two sets of medium quality dresses and accessories, better than those he had bought earlier. But even now he was careful to maintain his dress and whole appearance as that of a very ordinary man. Then once again he went to a barber shop, one which had a chair, had his hair and beard tended. With this second cutting, his hair and self looked civilized. There was an important matter, though. He had a clean shave, including having his moustache removed. This had significance. Only those who had lost their fathers would remove the moustache.
His children, aged 2 and 4, had died on the 8th and the 9th day of their exodus. The lack of water had got to them. Poor things, they had suffered before they died. On the 12th day his mother had sat down under a tree, and was not able to moveable move further. He himself could not have carried her. They were all very weak by now. His father sat down beside her, weary, and as if thankful for the rest from walking. The parents kept their faces unmoving. But Gopal and his wife could not hold back their tears. They had lost 42 people by now.
He fell down and rubbed his head on their feet. But they were hurried off on their way. “Keep yourselves alive for us,” were the last words Gopal heard from his parents. The last one to die of his clan had been his dear wife. She had kept on bravely, as if to support him, but one hot afternoon she swooned and fell, and did not move after that, joining the thousands along the way before her. Gopal closed her eyelids, bent and kissed her, dragged her into a bush nearby, and into which he crawled and beat himself, and cried for some time.
Gopal woke from his reverie. He asked directions for the Dharmashala, the Indian Inn. These were well maintained establishments, which provided good, clean accommodation. One could also eat there, if one so wished. They were used to road-weary, dusty travellers. He deposited a little money, and was given a room. Having secured that, he went and bought soaps, oil, a comb and things, and, before going to his room, went to the bathing area of the inn and had a long, leisurely bath, his faithful belt tied to his middle under his dhoti. He washed his old clothes and put them to dry. He would neither need them nor use them from now, but they would be of use for many people. A rich merchant himself, he had also seen enough suffering to have sympathy for the have-nots.
He came to his room, changed into his new clothes, and checked his room. ItsIt’s one entrance was through the door, and though it did have a window, was secure. There was a small earthen pitcher of water and a tumbler. He had a drink of water, which tasted cool (earthen-ware keepskeep water cool), and delicious. After bolting the door, he lay himself down for a long rest. His valuables were now in a new band around his waist. This band was something that had never left his side, not even during his baths, nor would, for some more time. At nightfall he went out, found an eatery nearby, had some chapatis, pulses and vegetables, the standard Indian meal, and went back.
***
There were professional robbers, who stayed near dharmashaalaas, stations, and whatnotwhat not, who noted people getting down from trains, their possible worth, how easy it would be to rob them, and all that. They had noted Gopal too. They had thought that he was a small-timesmall time businessman, which was the impression he had wanted to present. But there was an Aura about him. Having lost all his family, he was a man past caring. His posture, the set of his face and above all his eyes telegraphed to people, especially the evil-minded, that it would not be easy to fool with him, or to loot him. But Gopal had succeeded in his first objective. The robbers thought that he did not have enough to be worth their bother. They left him alone.
***
The next day, he had another, early morning bath, his faithful band with him. He washed his previous evening’s clothes, and put on fresh ones. He waited for his clothes to dry, which they did soon enough, being rather thin. He then locked his room, took his clothes which were dry by now, folded them, put them into a bag, and left the old set near the outer door for any poor man to pick up, and returned his key. He had curd and chapatis for breakfast, had some tea, all that nearby, and set out.
******
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