The Complete Short Stories

For this custom, rivers of blood flowed, whole tribes were wiped out, towns and cities were laid waste. For Shaikh Hasan, it seemed that it would be impossible to conquer this custom. Again and again his beloved son’s face would hover before his eyes, again and again his mind was filled with the powerful urge to go and douse the fire of his wrath with David’s blood. Arabs were warriors. Violence was not an unusual thing for them. They would shed a few tears for the dead and then get on with their business. They only preserved the memory of a dead person in a situation when blood revenge was necessary. Finally, Shaikh Hasan panicked. He was frightened that now he would not be able to control himself. He drew his sword from the sheath, tiptoed to the door of the room in which David was hidden and stood outside. Hiding the sword in his clothing he opened the door slowly. David was pacing. Seeing the angry face of the old Arab, David perceived the nature of his thoughts. He felt sorry for the old man. He thought, ‘It’s not the fault of religion or nationality. If someone had killed my son then doubtless I would be thirsty for his blood too. It’s just human nature.’

The Arab said, ‘David, you know how painful the death of a son is.’

‘I haven’t experienced it, but I can guess. If even a part of your pain can be lessened by my death, then here, my head is forfeit. I give it to you with pleasure. You must have heard the name “David”.’

‘Peter’s son?’

‘Yes. I’m that unfortunate David. I’m not just your son’s attacker. I’m the enemy of Islam. By taking my life, you will not only take revenge for Jamal’s death, but you will also be performing a true service to your religion and people.’

Shaikh Hasan said with deep emotion, ‘David, I have forgiven you. I know that Christians have suffered a lot of pain at the hands of Muslims. Muslims have subjected them to great cruelties, snatched away their freedom! But this is the fault of Muslims, not of Islam. The exultation of victory has turned their minds. Our Holy Prophet did not teach us to act the way we are acting today. He himself was the supreme example of forgiveness and mercy. I will not damage the reputation of Islam. Take my she-camel and flee as far as you can before dawn. Don’t even stop for a moment. If the Arabs pick up your scent, your life is lost. Go, and may God see you home safely. And pray for old Shaikh Hasan and his son Jamal.’

David reached home safely, but he was no longer the same David who wanted to eradicate Islam. There had been a great change in his way of thinking. Now he honoured Muslims and mentioned the name of Islam with respect.

Translated from the Hindi by John Caldwell

The Lashes of Good Fortune1

Boys, whether rich or poor, are known to be particularly cheerful. Their playfulness does not depend on wealth or familial circumstances. Nathua’s parents were dead and the orphaned boy was usually found hanging about Rai Bholanath’s gates. Rai Sahib was a compassionate man and, occasionally, he would give Nathua the odd paisa. Enough food was left over in Rai Sahib’s kitchen to fill the stomachs of many orphans like him. Now and then, Nathua was also handed old clothes belonging to the boys in the family. So, even though he was an orphan, Nathua was not unhappy. Rai Sahib had rescued him from the clutches of a Christian. He did not care about the fact that Nathua would get some material comfort and schooling at the Mission; his only concern was that Nathua remain a Hindu. To him, the leftovers of his house were more blessed than the freshly cooked meal at the Mission. Sweeping his many rooms was better than getting schooled by the Christians. He must remain a Hindu, in whichever condition. If he turned Christian he would be lost forever.

Nathua had no other work except for cleaning Rai Sahib’s bungalow. After his meal he played around the whole day. Nathua’s work decided his position in the caste hierarchy and he was assigned a place in the sweeper community. Therefore, the other servants called him an untouchable, a bhangi, but he didn’t mind. The poor boy was not aware of the effects this name could have on him and he saw no harm in being a bhangi. While sweeping, he often found some money or other things on the floor with which he could buy cigarettes. Even as a child he had acquired a taste for tobacco, cigarettes and paan in the company of other servants.

There were many boys and girls in Rai Sahib’s household, for dozens of nieces and nephews lived with him. But he had only one daughter, whose name was Ratna. She was educated at home by two tutors and a British woman who came to teach her English. It was Rai Sahib’s ardent desire that Ratna be accomplished and skilled so that, like the Goddess Laxmi, she would bring prosperity and fortune into her husband’s home. He did not allow Ratna to mingle with the other children. She was given two rooms to herself—one to study in and the other to sleep.

People say that too much affection makes children wilful and naughty. But, in spite of being pampered, Ratna was well behaved and decent. She did not call the servants ‘hey you’ haughtily. She was not even rude to a beggar. She gave money and sweets to Nathua and sometimes also chatted with him. So the servant boy had become quite free and informal with her.

One day Nathua was sweeping Ratna’s bedroom while she studied with the English memsahib in the other room. As he swept the floor, an unfortunate thought came to him: He longed to lie on Ratna’s bed. How clean and