Frowning, Mr Sinha replied, ‘You do know that it is not me who makes the law?’
‘Huzoor, all I know is that everything is in your hands.’
Saying this, he placed a bag of money on the table. Mr Sinha made a mental estimate of how much money the bag held, and cleverly replied, ‘Present this money before the raja as an offering from me. After all, you will hire a lawyer, I’m sure. What will you pay him then?’
‘This is just a token amount that the raja has placed in the hands of Your Highness. The amount shall keep rising with every hearing in the court.’
‘If I so desire, the case can hang for months.’
‘Who can deny your capability?’
‘So, even if there are five hearings, that will cost you a thousand bucks. You give me half of that right here and your job is done in one single hearing. That way you too will save half the amount.’
Satyadev pulled out another ten guineas and, placing them on the table, asked in a smug tone, ‘With your permission, shall I convey to Raja Sahib that he may sit back and relax, and that Your Highness’s kindness is ensured?’
Mr Sinha retorted sharply, ‘Not at all. I must make it clear right away that I’m not taking the money in exchange for any prior assurance of victory. I shall proceed according to the law and do what the law commands, not deviating an inch. My principles do not permit me to act otherwise. It is very kind of you people to respect me. But he who tries to put a price on my principles shall be my biggest enemy. Whatever money I accept, I receive it as a reward for my truthfulness.’2
Jagat Pande had full confidence that he would win the case, but when he heard the verdict the blood in his veins froze! His claim had been rejected! He was about to lose a lot of money. Such trickery! I’m not a true Brahmin if I don’t make the Lala Sahib pay for his fraudulence. What has he taken me to be? I am going to teach him such a lesson that he’ll remember it all his life. This is hard-earned money. I’ll see how somebody can just snatch it from me and digest it. It will bring only damnation. I will not let them live a day in peace.
The same evening Jagat Pande sat down in protest outside the bungalow of Mr Sinha. There was a banyan tree outside the gates, and all the men who travelled from near and far seeking Mr Sinha’s mercy and assistance sought the shade of the thick canopy that the tree provided, chewing on their sattu and chabena. Jagat Pande would sit there through the afternoon, recounting to them tales of Mr Sinha’s deceitfulness. He would neither eat nor drink; he just sat there narrating his grief-stricken story to anyone who happened to be there. Anybody who heard of what had befallen him unequivocally cursed Mr Sinha.
‘He’s a beast, not a man.’
‘He deserves to meet the most gruesome death.’
‘He took your money, and then he had the audacity to strike a deal with the opponent! Why take a poor man’s hard-earned money to fulfil such vile schemes!’
‘This is the sad reality of our fraternity. We call each other brothers! Even the exploitative British rule is better than this!’
Comments of this kind continued all day. Even at the most ungodly hours of the day people were found thronging around Jagat Pande.
This went on for four days and the news reached Mr Sinha’s ears. Like all bribe-taking officials he too was arrogant. He went about his life completely unaffected by all that was going on around him. Why fear people questioning his integrity when he never deviated from what the law commanded? And even if somebody were to point a finger at him, who would pay any heed? Who had the ability to set up an inquiry against a man as clever as him? Mr Sinha considered it beneath his dignity to wheedle with his officers. It was this quality of his personality that brought him immense respect from his subordinates. But Jagat Pande had made a move which Sinha did not know how to counter. He had never come across such a nuisance of a man! He would ask his servants: ‘What is the old man doing?’ The servants would make up stories simply to feed Mr Sinha’s ears and be in his good books. ‘Huzoor, he says his spirit will haunt you. “Let me get sacrificed at the altar. The day I die will be the day a hundred Jagat Pandes will come to life and avenge me!”’Mr Sinha was a confirmed atheist; yet a tiny seed of worry had been sown in his mind. His wife, on the other hand, trembled with fear hearing such stories. She repeatedly urged the servants, ‘Go to Pande and ask what it is that he wants. Tell him he can have all the money he desires, all his demands will be met, but make him leave our doorstep.’ But Mr Sinha would tell the servants not to carry out her instructions. He was still hopeful that hunger and thirst would break the man’s resolve and he would leave. A stronger reason for stopping them was that he knew that the servants would try to use the situation to their advantage if they realized that Sinha was succumbing to fear.
On the sixth day the news that Jagat Pande had gone mute reached the house. He could barely move; he simply lay staring blankly into the sky. Rumour also had it that he might die that night. Mr Sinha sighed and got lost in thought. His wife, with tears in her eyes, said insistently, ‘Swear by me that you will go and put an end to this. If the old man
