Mannu was tied to a pole in the corridor of the bungalow. He lost his spirit. He stayed there till late evening, whining. At sundown, a servant came and threw a fistful of grams before him. Mannu became acutely aware of the change in his situation. There was no blanket, and no sackcloth. He was lying on the bare floor and whining. He didn’t even touch the grams. He was regretting his little adventure now, and kept thinking about the juggler. The poor fellow must be wandering around, searching for me. The juggler’s wife must be calling my name, holding pieces of bread and milk in her hand. Where have I landed? He kept waking through the night, and circled the pole. Tommy, the master’s dog, barked at him every now and then to frighten him. Mannu felt extreme anger towards him and wanted to hit him hard. But the dog didn’t come close. He only kept barking from a distance.
When the night turned into dawn, the master came and gave Mannu a few tight slaps. ‘Swine! Spoiled my sleep at night by yelping constantly. I couldn’t close my eyes even for a second. If you create a racket today, I’ll shoot you.’ Saying this, he left. Now it was the turn of the naughty boys. Some of them were from the mohalla, some of them were from outside. Some made faces at Mannu, some threw stones at him, while others beckoned him with sweets. No one came to his rescue, no one felt any pity for him. He tried every possible method to save himself, but he couldn’t escape. He saluted the boys, showed them his posture of pray and worship, and the only reward he got from the boys was more teasing. That day no one even threw grams at him. Even if they did, he was not in a position to eat. Sorrow had dulled his urge for eating.
The juggler reached the sahib’s house in the evening, after much inquiry. When Mannu saw him, he leapt with such impatience it almost seemed as if he would break the shackles and bring down the pillar. The juggler hugged Mannu and said to the sahib, ‘Huzoor, he is a mere animal. Even men make mistakes. Give me whatever punishment that you want, but please spare him. Master, he is the only source of my livelihood. My wife and I will starve to death without him. We have reared him like our own child. My wife hasn’t had any food since he ran away. Please have some mercy, Master. May you be prosperous forever, may you achieve a higher status, may your pens become mightier and may your cases be liquidated. You are the good son of your father, may you always remain strong. May your rivals be ruined.’ But the sahib remained unmoved. He berated the juggler. ‘Shut up, you rogue, you have annoyed me with your endless talking. First you let your monkey ruin my orchard, and then you come here to placate me with your glib tongue! Just go and see how many fruits he has spoiled. If you want to take him with you, then compensate my losses with ten rupees, otherwise be on your way without a word. He will die here with his limbs tied until someone pays the penalty and takes him away.’
The juggler left in despair. Where on earth could he manage to get the ten rupees from? He told Budhiya about the situation. Budhiya was more convinced about her ability to elicit sympathy. She said, ‘I know you! You must have given him a tongue-lashing. You must use your words carefully while talking to these masters. Only then will they be pleased. Come with me, watch me bring him back.’ She tied all of Mannu’s belongings in a bundle and went to the sahib along with her husband. This time Mannu jumped so forcefully that the pillar actually shook. Budhiya said, ‘Master, we’ve come to beg at your door. Please give this monkey to us as charity.’
The sahib replied, ‘I consider charity to be a sin.’
The juggler’s wife said, ‘We roam around villages and towns. We will sing your praises.’
‘I don’t care for anyone singing my praises.’
‘God will reward you for this.’
‘I know nothing about God.’
‘My lord, forgiveness is a great virtue.’
‘To me, punishment has great virtue.’
‘My lord, you’re our master. You have to do justice to us. Please don’t take the lives of two individuals for a few fruits. It is justice which makes a man great.’
‘My greatness doesn’t lie in forgiveness and justice. It is not my duty to ensure justice. My work is to enjoy myself.’
None of Budhiya’s arguments had any effect on this vain person. Disheartened, she said, ‘Sir, show some kindness and let us keep these things near the monkey. He is attached to them.’
‘I’ve no place here to keep your dirty rags.’
The juggler and his wife left in utter despair.3
When Tommy saw that
