The Complete Short Stories

letter was a small packet containing the waistcoat. His friends had got together and contributed generously to collect thirty-five rupees. It was not possible to judge how thrilled Chakradhar was to receive the letter and the gift along with it. When college got over, he showed the waistcoat to his friends. Then it was exhibited all over the boarding house. Everyone scrutinized it and praised its perfect style. In reality, it was so gaudy that a sombre person would never consent to put it on. His friends got Chakradhar to face eastward and made him put on the waistcoat in a propitious moment. He was absolutely thrilled; anyone who saw him sang abundant praises—‘Brother, it is impossible to recognize you. You look so handsome! Your visage is as radiant as bullion baked over a fire; the waistcoat makes you look so youthful! What a transformation the complete English attire has made! Young ladies would lose restraint.’ It was decided among the friends that they would get him a trouser suit. A group of college students accompanied him to purchase it. Chakradhar was a wealthy man. An expensive suit was purchased from a showroom dealing in English garments. That night there was singing and merrymaking in the hostel. The following day Chakradhar’s friends made him put on the suit at ten o’clock. He protested in favour of his old, conventional clothing, ‘I don’t appreciate this at all. I wonder why you people are fond of Western clothing.’

Naim said, ‘If you look into the mirror you will know—you look like a prince. I am jealous of your handsome appearance. God has given you such good looks and you have been concealing them all along.’ Chakradhar did not know the art of putting on a necktie. He said to Girdhar, ‘You must put this on as well.’

Girdhar made him wear the necktie so tightly that it became difficult for Chakradhar to breathe. He protested, ‘Buddy, this is too tight.’

‘What can I do? This is the style. A necktie worn loosely is supposed to be an imperfection.’

Naim put in, ‘You have already loosened it. We wear ours far more tightly.’

‘It is difficult to breathe!’

‘What else do you imagine is the purpose of wearing a tie? It is to prevent one from breathing too hard.’

Chakradhar was in a dilemma. His eyes had turned red. His visage too looked rather flushed but he could not summon up the courage to loosen his tie. When he arrived at the college dressed up in this fashion, a throng of students began to follow him in a mock solemn manner—as though a marriage procession were towing behind a groom. They exchanged knowing glances, placed their handkerchiefs over the mouths and chuckled. But Chakradhar had no idea about all this. He was in the grip of another train of thought; he walked along with inflexible superciliousness. With as much affectation, he walked into the classroom and sat down. In a short while, Lucy too came in. She was quite amused to see him in the Western outfit; a hint of a smile was visible on her lips. Chakradhar misunderstood this as an expression of delight. Every now and again, he would smile and throw meaningful glances at her. But she did not so much as take note of his behaviour.

From that day, Chakradhar’s lifestyle, his associations, his religious zeal and his patriotic fervour suffered a radical change. First and foremost, his lock of hair disappeared. Then he got himself an English-style haircut. People began to question him: ‘Sir, you once claimed that a magnetic field penetrates the body by way of the lock of hair—what route shall it take now?’

Chakradhar smirked and said, ‘I made a fool of you. Did I not know that all this talk is merely a delusion? Deep down in my heart I believed none of this. I was merely trying to delude all of you.’

Naim was incensed. ‘My word! You have turned out to be quite a scoundrel! I mistook you for a simpleton. You are an out and out villain.’

‘I wanted to see what people have to say.’

Along with the disappearance of the hair the performance of the evening fire sacrifice also came to an end. The redundant fire-pit was tossed under the bed. Then it began to serve as an ashtray for discarded cigarette butts. The seat on which he sat to perform the fire sacrifice served as a foot stool. He began using soap, oiling his hair, combing it stylishly and smoking. His friends constantly pumped up his ego. It was decided that the money spent on the waistcoat ought to be recovered from him and that too with interest! Yet another letter undersigned by Lucy was drafted—

I cannot express in words the joy I feel at your altered appearance. You have lived up to my expectations. By the grace of God you are now every bit the kind of person any European lady would feel proud to be associated with. I beg you to present me a souvenir of your kindness and everlasting love which I may cherish all my life. I do not want any expensive gift, merely something which will enable me to commit you evermore, to my memory.

Chakradhar consulted his friends. He mentioned that he wanted to send his wife a present. Could they advise him on the purchase of an appropriate gift?

Naim said, ‘Janaab! This would be contingent upon her cultural refinement and her educational qualification. If she is accomplished and erudite, you must send her an expensive gift, behoving her sophistication; alternately, you can send several things, such as handkerchiefs, a wrist watch, a bottle of Lavender perfume, fancy combs, a mirror, a locket, brooch, and if, God forbid, she is gross or crass—then you must ask someone else—because I do not have any idea about the preferences of clumsy women.

‘Janaab! She is well versed with the English language.’

‘Then you must pay heed to my advice.’

That evening, Chakradhar went to the market, accompanied by his friends,