Dear reader, do not think that this narrative is an imaginary one. It is true. The world is not devoid of such Shankars and such Brahmins.
Translated from the Hindi by M. Asaduddin
Pleasures of College Life1
If all the entertaining activities that take place on campus are listed, an exceedingly amusing catalogue would come into being. Most college-going students are free from the anxiety of earning a livelihood. Some are also free from the anxiety of having to perform well in the examinations. They have nothing to occupy themselves and so they fritter away their time merrily or indulge in cheerful chitchat without a care in the world. No meaningful activity engages their mind. This kind of enthusiasm is sometimes visible in the activities of the Dramatics Club and every now and then on special occasions or during festive events. The rest of their time is used up in planning their own as well as their friends’ amusement. The moment any gentleman in the college exhibits a predilection for some particular thing, apart from cricket, hockey or football, he soon becomes a subject of their gags. If any gentleman is a staunch follower of the Hindu faith and remains engrossed in reading the scriptures or if anyone offers namaz regularly, then it is not long before he is pawned to their travesty. If anyone is a lover of books and spends much time reading, then you may safely presume that a plot is being hatched in some corner to have fun at his expense. The long and short of it is that nobody is inclined to meddle with the happy-go-lucky and nobody bothers with the inconspicuous or reticent scholars of the college. Nonetheless, maulvis and pandits are in for a rough time.
The gentleman Chakradhar was a scholar from a well-known college in Allahabad, pursuing an MA in philosophy. However, like all meticulous religious luminaries, he kept himself at a double arms’ length from all things prohibited and forbidden by his faith. He remained engrossed in the spirit of patriotism and could lay down his life for the simplicity and the purity of the Hindu faith. From the bottom of his heart he loathed the necktie, the collar, the waistcoat. He wore a simple kurta of coarse fabric, and went about in plain, inexpensive shoes. Every day, he did sandhya and havan the first thing in the morning and applied a tika of sandalwood paste across his forehead. He had shaved his head but grown a long lock of hair on his crown, which was as prominent as a gnarled tree on a patch of arid land. He claimed that by growing that hair, ancient Hindu ascetics had given proof of their superior vision and their intellect. By means of the lock, bodily ailments and toxins were expelled; a magnetic field developed around the body. He always cooked his own food, which was exceedingly plain and easy to digest; he believed that victuals reflect a man’s disposition. He avoided everything that was of foreign origin; he played neither cricket nor hockey; assumed that English culture was for all intents and purposes flawed—to the extent that he believed that speaking or writing English was not without its weaknesses. The outcome was that his English was very poor; he could not write a simple letter in the English language. If there was anything that he enjoyed, it was chewing paan. He had immense faith in the goodness of its consumption and quoted Sanskrit slokas to prove his point.
The carefree young men of the college did not have the staying power to overlook a person of such comportment. He was the perfect quarry. Game plans began to be hatched to straighten out this scoundrel. How he went about feigning ascetic-like purity! How he considered himself above par, condescending to believe that nobody else was fired with the spirit of patriotism and that everyone was devoid of humanism! He needed to be taught a lesson that would make him lose touch with all notions of superciliousness, once and for all.
It so happened that an opportune occasion arose. Soon after the college reopened a gorgeous-looking Anglo-Indian girl joined the philosophy class. She had a rose-coloured complexion, an hourglass figure and an audacious manner in fixing her gaze and beauty that would make one throw caution to the winds! Over and above that, she dressed in bright-coloured clothes. The boys of the department held onto their hearts. Others from the History and Language departments took French leave from their own classes to attend the Philosophy class. All had their eyes fixed on this dazzling beauty. All of them longed for her to throw just one look in their direction; all of them longed to hear her mellifluous voice. Nevertheless, as the rule goes, when cautious hearts are smitten with beautiful love interests, some upshot undoubtedly comes about. Most people were engrossed in feasting their eyes on her but Pandit Chakradhar, smitten with uncontrollable desire, his heart brimming over with sincerity, was quite powerless even to raise his eyes to so much as look at his lady love. He feared that if someone caught him in the act of stealing a look at her, his single lock of hair and the sandalwood paste on his forehead would become the butt of people’s jokes. He would cast hungry sidelong glances at her, his head bowed low in the fear that his secret would be discovered and that his clandestine affection would become the talk of the town.
However, the truth cannot remain concealed for long! His associates were quick to discern his lovelorn glances. Their wish had been granted. They were unable to contain their joy. Two young men extended hands of friendship towards him and consciously laboured to develop an intimacy with him. When they judged that his trust in them was unshakable, that their prey was within shooting range, they put their heads together and addressed the following
