The Complete Short Stories

Congressists worked. A deputation of the traders presented themselves at the service of Panditji at nine in the night. As such, Panditji had had his more-than-a-full meal for the day, yet eating a meal like this was nothing out of the ordinary for him. Almost twenty days a month he would get an invitation and on such occasions it was quite normal for him to eat that much. Heavy meals were sometimes due to a feeling of competition among his peers at the invitation, sometimes at the humble insistence of his host, but on most occasions he would inevitably partake a meal of extra-large servings due to the palatability of the menu. And Panditji’s gastro-intestinal juices were used to coping with the stress of such an intake. So, now that it was dinner time, Panditji’s erstwhile firm decisions started wobbling. This was not because he was by any way perturbed by the lack of food, because his stomach sent no such signals. But it often happens that at the usual mealtimes, even if there is no reaction from the guts and no feeling of feebleness felt by the body, it is the mind that sends the stimulus for the desire for food. This was what happened to Panditji at this time. His heart wanted to call out for a hawker, but the administration had posted quite a few sepoys around him for his bodily protection, and they showed no signs of going away from there. Panditji’s massive intellect was completely occupied with how to get rid of these messengers of death. Unnecessary nuisances, these! Am I a convict who would run away from here?

The administration, on the other hand, had posted these guards to prevent the Congressists from trying to abduct Panditji. Who knew what schemes these Congressists had? It was the officials’ duty right now to protect Panditji from such untoward and disrespectful incidents.

It was under these circumstances, when he was absorbed in deep thought, that the traders’ delegation presented themselves in front of him. Shastriji, who was lying down, supporting his body against his elbow, sat up straight. The leaders of the delegation touched his feet and said, ‘Maharaj, why have you turned your wrath on us? Your wish would be our command. Please get up and have your meal. We didn’t know that you had really made up your mind about this fast, or else, we would have come to request you earlier. Please be kind to us. It is going to be ten. We will never go against your word.’

Shastriji: ‘These Congressists will not rest until they bring you to ruin. They are drowning themselves, and they will take you down with them! If the bazaar remains closed, whose loss would it be, yours or the government’s? You’ll give up your jobs and starve yourselves to death; would the government be affected? You’ll go to the jails, grind the mill there, would it affect the government? God only knows what prompts these fellows to ruin themselves and others. Don’t you come under the spell of these scatterbrains! Tell me, will you keep your shops open?’

Delegate leader: ‘Maharaj, as long as the panchayat of the town doesn’t assemble on this issue, we can’t guarantee you anything. Who will come to our rescue if the Congressists ransacked our shops? You please get up and partake of your meal, we will call the panchayat tomorrow and whatever the decision is, we will faithfully report back to you.’

Shastriji: ‘Come back tomorrow then, after the panchayat.’

When the deputation started to return, the crestfallen Panditji asked, ‘Is nobody carrying snuff?’ A gentleman took out his box and gave it to him. After they left Panditji asked the policemen, ‘Why are you all standing here?’ They said, ‘Boss’s orders, what to do?’

‘Go away.’

‘Just because you say so? If we get discharged tomorrow, will you feed us then?’

‘I’m telling you, leave; or else I’ll leave this place myself. Am I a prisoner to be watched over like this?’

‘You dare not leave, sir.’

‘Dare I not, you rogue! Have I committed a crime?’

‘Okay, let’s see you try.’

Incensed with Brahminical rage, Panditji got up and gave a sepoy such a hard shove that he landed a few feet away. Seeing him the others lost courage. They had all taken his girth to be as only flab, so seeing his power they all slunk away silently.

Moteram immediately started to look around for a hawker so that he could buy something. But he realized instantly that if the man happened to report it to anyone people would clap and jeer at him. No, one would have to operate with guile—so that the act doesn’t reach a single ear. It’s only in such crises that one recognizes the power of one’s intelligence. Within a second he had figured out how to handle this difficult situation.

And as if by godsend a hawker was seen passing by at that very time. It was past eleven o’clock, and the area had become desolate. Panditji called out, ‘Vendor, here, vendor!’

‘Yes, sir, what can I give you? You have started feeling hungry, haven’t you? Sacrificing food and water suits sadhus, not those like me and you.’

‘What are you blabbering, you dullard? Am I any less than a sadhu? I can lie down for months without hunger or thirst affecting me if I so wish. I called for you only so I could borrow your kerosene lamp. Let me see what’s wriggling there. I’m afraid it might be a snake.’

The vendor unhooked his lamp and passed it to Panditji, who started searching the ground for something. Suddenly, the lamp slipped out of his hand and the flame went out. The entire kerosene spilled out. Panditji made sure that not a drop remained by giving it a knock further.

The vendor shook the lamp and said, ‘Maharaj, there is no oil left here. I could have sold four paise worth of goods, but now you have gone and created this trouble.’

‘Brother, it was just a slip of the