One day, the office head asked Garib to clean his table. Immediately, he set to it. Accidentally, the duster touched the inkpot and it tumbled, the ink spilling all over the table. The head was beside himself with rage. He caught Garib by the ear and showered him with the choicest of abuses culled from the many developed Indian languages.
Poor Garib! He stood still with tears in his eyes, as if he had committed murder. I didn’t like this violent, unacceptable behaviour of the head. If another peon had been involved and had done still worse, the head wouldn’t have shown such anger. I said to him in English, ‘Sir, your behaviour is scarcely appropriate. He didn’t spill the ink on purpose. You should have treated him with regard. Your act is against all principles of fairness.’
The head lowered his tone and said, ‘You do not know him. He is a rascal.’
‘I do not see any such trait in him.’
‘You do not get it, sir. He’s one of a kind, owns a large tract of land and deals in thousands. He has two ploughs for the fields, many buffaloes. This has turned him insolent.’
‘If that were the case, why would he be a peon here?’
‘Believe me, the fellow is worth a lot and on top of it he’s tight-fisted.’
‘This is no crime, is it?’
‘This is beyond you. Wait a little more and you will realize how mean and stingy he is.’
Another one from the office butted in, ‘Sir, he had tons of milk and curd at home, tons of peas, maize and gram. Still, he never so much as gifted a little of it to the people in the office. We pine for these things here. Why shouldn’t we be jealous? And all his prosperity is due to the present job. Earlier, he was no better than a wretch.’
The head was cautious. ‘That’s not the issue. It’s all his and he may not give it to one or the other. Yet, the fellow is insensitive, a brute.’
I grasped the matter vaguely and said, ‘If he’s so small a person, then he is an animal. I didn’t realize this.’
The head opened up. The caution gone, he said, ‘Not that his gifts will matter to others, but they surely will reveal a shinier side of his self. You also expect from someone well-provided. What will a starveling afford?’
The secret was out. The head quite easily showed us our place. Prosperity is everyone’s enemy, not just of the lower-ranked. If our in-laws, either from the father’s or the mother’s side, are poor, we do not look for anything coming from there, and in fact forget that they exist. However, if they are rich and yet do not care about us, do not remember us on the day of the festival or a special occasion, we get furious. We visit a poor friend and happily accept a rolled betel leaf from him. But where’s the person who returns from a rich friend sans dinner and doesn’t curse him? Nay, he’ll be angry with him all his life. If poor Sudama had returned empty-handed from Lord Krishna, he would have considered him a worse enemy than Shishupal and Jarasandh.3
A few days later, I asked Garib, ‘Tell me, do you own fertile land?’
Garib said meekly, ‘Yes, sir, I do. I have two labourers who work in the fields.’
‘You have cows and buffaloes, too, that give milk?’
‘Yes, sir, I have two milk-yielding buffaloes. The cow is pregnant. It’s because of people’s kindness that I manage to have two square meals a day.’
‘Do the office people receive offerings from you occasionally?’
He replied sadly, ‘What do I have to offer to government people? What does my land yield but barley, gram, maize and jowar? You are all kings. At home I have only coarse grains. Think of giving you that! That may be an affront to you. I dare not offer milk and curd, could I? One should be worthy before gifting.’
‘Where’s the harm in trying? See what happens. The city people do not get to see these things. They are curious enough about bran and husk to enjoy the change.’
‘Master, if I ventured and someone minded? If he went and complained to the sahib! Where do I go then?’
‘Leave that to me. No one will say anything to you. I shall explain if someone asks.’
‘Well, sir, there’s the crop of peas these days. Gram is also sprouting. The cane crusher is operative. There’s nothing more, sahib!’
‘Just bring these.’
‘If things go wrong, you will have to rescue me.’
‘Yes, I will take charge.’
The next day Garib came to the office. Accompanying him were three young men. Two had on their heads baskets filled with pods of green peas. The third carried a pitcher of sugar cane juice. All three had a bundle each of sugar cane held under their arms. Garib moved quietly to stand under the tree facing the veranda. However, a sense of guilt prevented him from entering the office. Just then, peons and other office workers walked in and surrounded him from all sides. One peeled and sucked the sugar cane as others attacked the baskets. It was a scene to be watched. On hearing the commotion, the head clerk strode to the place and inquired, ‘What’s all this? Come in and get to your jobs.’
I whispered into the head’s ears, ‘Garib has brought all these presents from home. You take some and distribute the rest among the others.’
Feigning anger, the head asked sharply, ‘Garib, why did you bring these here? Take them away or else I shall lodge a report with the sahib. Who do you think we are—beggars?’
Garib went white in the face and trembled
