That Night

                   It was raining cats and dogs when he came out of the flat to go to the railway station, a few kilo metres from his residence. It was difficult to see beyond a few metres. In the back ground of the light from the lamp post he could make out the rain was falling in curves, bending with the wind as it grew stronger or straightening when it relented a little.  The rain getting in to his eyes did not make it any easier to see. There was one rickshaw, with its owner curled-up in it, parked near the lamp post. He hailed the rickshaw puller whom he persuaded to take him to the station by promising to pay many times the normal fare. The rickshaw moved slowly, its progress retarded due to the heavy rain and strong wind.

                   It took him almost an hour and half to reach the station, completely drenched and a bit cold. The station, in spite of the inclement weather was crowded and he had had to jostle along to reach the ticket window. He asked for a ticket to Delhi by the train leaving, shortly, via Kanpur and Aligarh, for old Delhi station. He purchased the ticket and then there was another round of pushing and shoving to get away from the window. He took the over bridge to go to the platform number three where his train was parked. He leisurely looked for, found and entered in to the compartment. He found a seat for himself and shoved his bag under the it. He took out his handkerchief to wipe an enormous amount of water which he carried on his person. He managed it as best he could with his small handkerchief. He saw another person in black outfit in the compartment. He nodded to him and remarked, “What an awful evening?” To this the other person mumbled something, maybe, in agreement but hardly audible.

             He was hungry. He opened a window to find out if he could get something to eat and was greeted by a spray of water. He closed the window hurriedly. He ambled up to the door and opened it a little so that he may not receive another shower. He peeped through the partly open door and saw a vendor. The vendor wet and struggling to cover soggy samosas with polythene sheet though his samovar was in the open and the fire underneath it had been reduced to smoke. He asked for tea and samosas and was served some lukewarm muddy tea and wet samosas. He carried them to his seat and offered to share the dinner with the person in the black who refused the offer. He, then, sat down to devour his sordid dinner.

                  The train was already late and there was no sign of it leaving the station. The sundry travellers were sauntering in to the compartment, unhurried, before setting down. Another half hour passed before the train whistled. Though the train did not move it appeared to induce the passengers into activity. There was a rush into the compartment. Hitherto, indolent passengers moved into the compartment quickly pushing others, aside. There were lone travellers as well as families, young men and women who all made a bee line to the few coveted benches which were soon filled. The compartment was now occupied by more number of people than it was fashioned for. Though, passengers squeezed themselves into the compartment, many would have to travel standing. 

             And then, without any notice, the train lurched forward and stopped. It carried out the manoeuvre a few times before it put on some speed. In the mean while the passengers were settling down, some on the benches, others on the floor and a few were standing. Those who had managed to get some space to sit were pushing their neighbour to yield some more space which effort was being thwarted by the other person.

                   Our friend who had braved the storm to catch the train to Delhi was now well settled for the long and obviously uncomfortable journey ahead. There was no way to stretch oneself in the crowed train; indeed there was no space to change one’s position and sleep was impossible in the bustle.

                   He found himself seated next to the man in the black whom he had seen when he had entered the compartment and, therefore, had known him the longest among all the others passengers. A good reason, he believed, to start a conversation with him and reduce the tedium of the journey.

“Where are you going?”

He received no answer. “Ah! This train is going to Delhi; so you could not be going anywhere else. That was silly of me”. He guffawed without mirth, to hide his embarrassment. The two neighbours did not address each other for some time. It was becoming oppressively intolerable for him to travel, in the distressing condition, without the benefit of companionship. He made another attempt at conversation.

“Where do you live in Delhi?”

This time the attempt did not go in vain

“I do not live in Delhi.”

The reply encouraged him to continue.

“Then where do you live.”

                   It was evident that the other was not particularly enjoying the conversation or in a mood to socialise.

“Oh! Never mind; No where you would know.”

“How can you say that, I am quite well travelled?”

“But not where I live.” And perhaps to deflect the course of conversation asked, “Where do you live, in Delhi or in Lucknow?”

“I live in Lucknow, River Bank Colony, in the D block. Mine is the first house in the block, in front of the house of the famous doctor, Dr. Sharma. Do you know him?” He enthusiastically volunteered a lot more information than was needed. He wished to keep the conversation going.

“No I do not know him. I do not go to doctors.”

“Well it is nice that you enjoy good health. But tell me of a man who has never been sick, some or the other time. We all fall sick and need to consult a physician. Even if you do not need to visit a doctor, someone else, in the family, may need a doctor’s services. What I say is that it is best to keep one prepared for any crisis. Keep note of the clinic and the residential addresses of good doctors in town and keep their phone numbers handy. Yes sir! This is what I do.”

                   The other man was obviously was not interested in the wise counsel but did not join issue. He merely remarked, “No, I don’t,” and looked the other way to indicate that the exchange was over.

                   He shrugged his shoulder in a way to indicate, to anyone who might have been observing the twosome, that he bore no responsibility for early demise of the discussion. It had happened in spite of his best his best effort and keen desire to prolong it. He looked out of the glass window. He could not, though the fury of the storm had abated, somewhat. The train was not moving at its normal pace. The visibility had not improved enough for the driver of the train to raise the speed to normal. He closed his eyes so as to snatch some sleep. He must have dozed for he was roused up from his slumber by fearsome noises and cries of the passengers. There was pandemonium in the compartment which was lurched at an obtuse angle. Passengers were screaming, some were obviously hurt, some more than the others. The luggage was all over. People were trying to get out of the compartment, all at once and in the course not letting anyone out. The train had met with an accident while he had dozed.

The man, in the black, assumed command of the situation. Without a word, he pushed away those obstructing the passage with considerable force. He motioned the ones at the door to go out and clear the way for the others and to receive the wounded, the old, the children and the women. After the wounded, the old, the children and the women has been evacuated, with a wave of his hand, he motioned the men to go out, one at a time. He was the last to come out.

                   Some villagers had arrived at the scene when they saw the accident. They were now being supervised by the man in the black in attending to the injured. Some had brought food which was given to the passengers of the ill fated train. A little later some order had been established. The injured were carried and those who could walk were encouraged to do so and taken to the comparative safety of the nearby village. The man in the black supervised it all. When all the passengers had been taken care of, our friend from Lucknow and the man in the black remained behind, to look after the baggage of the passengers. they were the only individuals who had escaped unscathed. They sat down awaiting arrival of the police and the railway rescuers to hand over the charge of the site to them.

Anticipating long dreary wait, our man from Lucknow made another attempt at banter.

“When I told you that it was an awful evening, I could not have contemplated that it would be so horrid.”

There was no response.

“It is so dark and not a soul in sight, on top of it, the trauma of the accident; I am scared.” There was yet no response.

“It is scary and stultifying. Come on man! Speak up. Say something to lessen the melancholy.”

This desperate appeal too did not elicit any reaction.

“This scenario is just apt for the stories of ghosts.”

The man in the black stared hard at the speaker but still did not utter a word.

“Do you believe in Ghosts?” asked the man from Lucknow and laughed without conviction.

The man in the black dissolved in the dark.

The Dilemma

Officer Sant Ram, a police officer of friendly disposition, posted at the police station at Delhi University was an uncomplaining man. Though, after more than two decades of service, he could not secure a promotion, he had neither lost hope nor was bitter with his superiors. However, when at last, Commissioner Kaul promoted him and posted him to the gole market station, Sant Ram and the commissioner had different opinions in the matter. Sant Ram was happy. His faithful diligence recognized, his due right conceded and honour restored to him. The commissioner, however, sometimes when in reflective mood, conceded to himself that he had allowed, in a state of confused ambivalence, his heart to rule over his head. Be as it may, he thought, “What if Sant Ram has entirely modest ability for police work? What, if he has never solved a case? He is a good man and police do need to project gracious image to the public.” The commissioner cleared his conscious with these thoughts and went in to superannuation.  True, as the erstwhile commissioner had noted, Sant Ram was no great shake as a cop but was a good man. He made friends easily. His affable manners, easy laugh and desire to be helpful stood him out in the midst of general apathy of many other officers. It was during this period of his career when he was attached to the university police station that he had come in close contact with the upcoming trio of student politicians with whom we are presently concerned.

Rani was the daughter of a clerk, in the ministry of home, department of raj bhasha. She was the treasurer of the students’ union. Wheat like in complexion and a little corpulent in build, Rani had the attraction of youth. She was a source of, both, attraction and completion among her politically inclined circle of male friends. She was ambitious and knew how to use her charms to her advantage. Though she had many admirers, Matloob and Sudesh were the only two, she considered worthy of her sustained interest. They received her favours more often though not frequently. In the circle of the young politicians at the university, it was enviously conceded that these two had bright future, once they completed their apprenticeship at the university and the joined the mainstream political parties. Sudesh was much ahead of Matloob. He had already established himself with some ministers in the local government. Matloob was younger of the two, junior in the university politics and merely a member in the union executive. Sudesh was bumptious, morose and profane and Matloob was roguish, unforgiving and profane. There was still time to make her choice. Rani was not inclined to narrow her options yet.  She concentrated on the political work, passing the final of the law examination was only a subsidiary issue

Matloob, the son of a local merchant had no interest in perusing studies. His father was a prosperous semi literate businessperson, resolute in his resolve that his only son received good education and thence admiration of his community. His father, through coercive blackmail, had persuaded Matloob to continue studies. Matloob had to submit to the perverse demand; apprehensive of the consequence of defiance, he had joined the university. He found much-coveted sojourns with Miss Rani more to his taste rather than the tedious oratory of the university dons. His tryst with Rani were occasional because Rani was busy with political work beside Matloob was not her only lover. He was aware of this but had hoped to persuade Rani to marry and settle with him, eventually. He was utterly in love with her.

Sudesh Kumar was a son of prosperous farmer in the village near Khurja. His father was headman of his village. Sudesh nurtured political ambitions. He had joined the faculty of law. He was also a member of the political party ruling Delhi. The admission to the university law college accorded respectability and the opportunity to participate in the university politics. The membership of the political party let him mix with important political big wigs. He needed party backing to enter into the political arena in a big way. The political big bosses too needed young men like him to do their work, both, dirty and not so dirty. In return, they provided him with money to fight the university election, the eventual ladder to state politics. Sudesh had been the secretary of the union and this year had been elected the President.

Kavita was young lissome girl, slender of build. She was of medium height and attracted attention. She was the daughter of peon in the local government. Easy in appearance and rather plain of manners, she had not joined the university to augment her learning. She had joined the Hindi honours course waiting for a husband. In lively moments, she fantasized about a handsome and rich beau who would fall in love with her, and claim her as his own, against the wishes of his family and social circle. She was always animated after a visit to the local theatre running a Hindi movie. In sober moments, she hoped to complete the course so that she would be able to take up a job in some local school, which would augment her pursuit. She met Sudesh at the union office and being a practical person did not allow her flight of the imagination to overwhelm her, instead she decided that she would settle for him. A bird in hand is recommended to be better than two in the bush. She immediately set forth to attract and then acquire him. Soon they began to meet often though marriage was not discussed between the two; it was too early, yet. Kavita decided that she would take up the issue at the appropriate time. Eventually she did broach the subject of marriage. Sudesh expressed delight, all the same, wanted to wait until he was out of the university and settled. He had had to have sufficient income to sustain a family. Until then she had to wait. She considered the situation and concluded that she had enough hold on him and accepted the prudence, convinced that they would unite, sooner than later.

In time, Sudesh and Rani decided to marry. Rani because Sudesh had emerged as an important party man unambiguously poised for ascent to the higher rungs of the party and Sudesh because Rani too had not done badly herself. She was active in the women’s’ wing of the party and, more importantly, had been able to establish liaison with the state chief of the party and a junior minister in the union cabinet. The two complimented each other in their political careers. Their marriage was of convenience not a bonding in tender adoration. If there was loneliness within the union, they were willing to pay the price to advance their political careers.

However, their coming together had saddened Matloob but he reconciled to the reality of the situation, though, the pain would surface occasionally. He could not forget the betrayal entirely. He married his cousin Jamila as willed by his father. There is government accommodation in the gole market area, which is allotted to the junior officers of the government. The allottees often sublet the premises. Matloob, like Sudesh before him, hired one such flat and settled with his wife. He would sometimes come across Sudesh and his wife. In such circumstances, they would feign no to have noticed each other.

In spite of his marriage, about which Kavita would never know, Sudesh did not end his relationship with Kavita. He had paid for a flat beyond the ITO Bridge for Kavita. He would meet her there, discretely, whenever he had the time. It was becoming increasingly difficult to find time for rendezvous as he was ascending the party ranks and because he would avoid the visit when many could see him. However, overtime the arrangement was going kaput. Kavita, his mistress for many years was becoming impatient and suspicious. There had been, on several occasions, angry arguments between them. She was now rancorous and threatening. She had served notice upon him that she would not permit the marriage to be deferred any more. Sudesh tried all the means at his disposal to reconcile with her. He cajoled, threatened and even offered money to keep her quiet but to no avail. He found himself in a precarious position.

On the fateful day, he rose up in the morning thinking of Kavita and the problem she was creating. Some definite plan to solve the issue was taking shape in his mind, which agitated him. He went out for a long walk. It calmed him for some time. He returned and had late breakfast with his wife. He then told her that he was going out on party work. He said if anyone phoned for him, she was to inform the person that her husband was resting because of headache could not be disturbed. He came out of his house and walked to where he had parked his. He climbed into it and dove off.

Sudesh drove to the residence of Kavita whom he found in a foul mood. Before she could give expression to her latent thoughts, Sudesh proposed that they drive out to lunch and finalise the date for the marriage ceremony. He insisted that the marriage would have to be a short affair with only the close relatives in attendance. He was a political leader and had to set god example for others to follow. He would not approve of ostentation. That set the mood for the day. Kavita was not just reconciled but pleased. She had not expected the matter to be resolved so easily. She was contrite too. She had needlessly suspected Sudesh of bad faith. She got ready and together they drove off for the outing.

They drove for some time happy in the company of each other and then late in the afternoon turned back to return to Delhi. After Ghaziabad and before Sahibabad, he turned in to a Kutcha road as he said, he had to pay some money, to his old servant. There was a lone hut half a kilometer away from where the village settlement ended. Sudesh stopped the car in front of the hut. A man of about fifty years of age appeared at the door. He greeted Sudesh and deferentially touched his feet. He led the two inside the hut. Sudesh asked him how he was doing. There upon the man sought divine blessings for Sudesh and his family. By the grace of god and the benevolence of his masters, that is, Sudesh and his family, he said, he was doing fine. He earned enough to keep his body and soul together by baking bread in his tandoor, the earthen oven, for the clients nearby and the gratuity, which he received from the family of Sudesh, took care of medical needs and any unforeseen expenses. There was a stool in the hut that the servant  offered to Kavita to sit.

This visit was not as innocuous as may appear to you from the above narrative. Some preparation had already been made before hand for what had to be accomplished that day. Kavita sat down intently listening as the old man related his story. Sudesh who was a step behind her moved in and hit her on the head. She sprawled out. Sudesh caught her by feet and hauled them up leaving her dangling upside down. She was scared but she struggled. She put her hands on the earthen floor and wriggled her body to loosen his grip but the other man came up and holding by her hands, kicked her in the face. Together they lifted her and put her in to the oven. She was still struggling when head long, she was forced in to the oven, her bruised hands scraping the round wall of the oven. She cried but her voice was feeble. The Old man and Sudesh shoved earth on her and in to the oven while pushing her in to the oven. The two were too powerful for her. Her resistance failed and she lost consciousness. The duo pushed her in so that she was entirely settled in the oven. Together they then filled up the oven with earth. The older man laid bricks on the top and plastered it with cement so that it looked like a raised platform. In time, he will use it for keeping the earthen pot for storing drinking water.

No one ever was likely to look for the deceased in that forlorn part of the district, the criminals perceived.

The old man was composed. He did not know who the woman whom he had buried just a while ago. He was not interested in the futile knowledge. He had undertaken many bizarre errands for his masters. The younger man was not so toughened, yet. He had committed a crime because he had to save himself from certain loss of career. However, he was no murderer, besides he had lost his mistress whom he had come to accept as part of his life. It had, in some nook of his being caused a numbing emptiness. He was scared too. He was shaking with fright and his mind was numb with trepidation. The old man reassured him as well as he could and helped to his car. Sudhesh got in to it and drove back. He found driving grueling but he managed. He drove back to the ITO Bridge and from there drove to the Connaught place. He was hungry and exhausted. He got in to the inner circle and parked his car near the embassy restaurant. He went in and ordered light meals, which he finished unhurriedly. It calmed him. He paid the bill, went back to his car and drove to his house. Near his house, he stopped at the chemist’s shop to buy pack of dispirin and went home.

Matloob had seen Sudesh coming towards his car but did not attempt to draw his attention or greet him. Their relationship had almost dried after the marriage of Sudesh with Rani. Matloob ignored him and strode away.  He walked past the house of Rani and Sudesh. He walked past his on flat and then on to the tri-junction near the Birla mandir. He took a turn to right and walked past the police station then the girls’ school and up to where the mandir road joins the panchkuiyan road. He then decided to return. When he was passing in front of the police station, he was accosted by a familiar voice. He looked up and saw sub inspector Sant Ram calling his, very cordially.

“Hello Matloob Bhai! How are you? Long time no see. Come in to my office and have a cup of tea with me.”

Though, not feeling the need for tea, yet not willing to snub the kindly officer, Matloob went along with him into his office. Sant Ram ordered two strong cups of tea, prepared from cardamom, ginger and tealeaves for the two of them. He settled in his chair and motioned Matloob to take the chair in front of him. The phone rang up. It was a call from this boss who wanted Sant Ram to speak to his old acquaintance, Sudesh, for some favour. Sant Ram told Matloob about the request of the boss and excused himself to make the phone call to Sdesh. Matloob thoughtlessly remarked that he had seen Sudesh drive away. Nevertheless, Sant Ram dialed the phone number of Sudesh. Rani picked up the phone and told him that her husband was resting and could not be disturbed. Sant Ram said that he would phone later and informed his boss that he would phone Sudesh later in the day. Sant Ram and Matloob chitchatted over a cup of tea and then Matloob bid good-bye to the officer and left. He retraced his walk all the time thinking why Rani had told the officer a lie. He knew that Sudesh had left by his car for some place.  He was now walking near the house of Rani. He had an impulse visit her. He went up to the door of the house and pressed the bell. Rani, in her nightgown and with a towel wrapped round her neck was preparing for a bath. She opened the door to him. Seeing the improbable caller, she said,

“Oh! It’s you. What do you want?”

“I was passing by and decided to come to say hello to you. It has been long time.” He ignored the derision of the remark. He wished to appease her. He had the urge to revive old association.

“Well! hello. My husband is not well and I am busy.” The dismissive indifference in the tone of his erstwhile love infuriated him and he could not control his frenzy. He picked up the bronze statue of Natraj, decorating the mantelpiece and brought it down on the head of Rani with full force. Rani fell down. He then pulled the ends of the towel to choke her and let it go only when she was dead. Matloob pulled the sofa cover loose and wiped himself of blood, which had dribbled on to his hand. He then walked out of the house, unnoticed, closing the door behind him. He went back to his flat. He had to take his child to the pediatrician.

Sudesh opened the door of his house with the duplicate key. What he saw left him aghast. He saw Rani sprawled across on the carpet in the drawing room. There was clotted blood on the head, which had set her hair in the grotesque style. Her face had been bloodied red and some blood had dripped on to the carpet. There was a rumpled blood soaked sofa cover lying on the floor. The woman was dead. Sudesh was flummoxed with this fresh encounter with death. He picked up the phone from the peg table and rang up sub inspector Sant Ram at the police station. Sant Ram picked up the phone. He said,

“I am delighted to receive your call. I have to request you for a favour on behalf of my boss. I had phoned in the morning. Your wife informed me that you were not well and resting. How are you now, old boy? Sudesh cut him short.

“Rani has been murdered, Will you please come immediately?’

“Oh! Shocking. When? How? I am coming.”

The officer ordered Genda Singh, the constable attached to him, to accompany him to the scene of crime. They drove to the house of Sudesh on the motor cycle of Sant Ram with Genda riding pillion. On arrival, Sant Ram consoled the bereaved husband and sat him down on the sofa. He took charge of the investigation with Genda in the tow. He examined first the victim who was quite dead. Then he turned his attention to the scene of crime. He asked Genda to call in the photographer and the forensic team. He them came back and sat next to Sudesh.

The officer spoke softly, “No break-in. A friendly entry made by the murderer known to the deceased. Nothing of value removed; burglary not intended.” He turned to the husband,

“I offer to you heartfelt sympathy. Nevertheless, I must ask you a few questions. We do not want the culprit to escape the consequence of his dastardly deed, now, do we. Action without delay is vital.”

“Yes. Of’ course”

“When was this discovered?”

“I returned sometimes back entered the flat and saw this.”

Your wife told me that you were not well and resting.

“Well, I mean I was in the house.”

“But did you not say that you returned from somewhere and discovered the crime only when you returned?”

“I was at home.”

“Then how is that you heard nothing; a cry for help; struggle for life; a sound of a person falling; nothing. Your wife did not call out for help?”

“Well actually I did go out.”

“Then you did go out. Matloob told me that he had seen you drive away.”

Sudesh gulped, he had no intention to alert the police about where he had been, “I was here, I mean; I did not go out, I mean; I just stepped out to buy some dispirin. I went out for a few minute only; about half hour ago.”

“Then you were here except for when you went to buy dispirin?” The officer was becoming wary of the flip-flop.

“Yes. That’s right.”

“Then how is that you did not notice the crime earlier.  It appears to me that the crime was committed several hours ago.

“Well as I said I was not…” Sudesh was at a loss. He did not know which will be more damaging, to say where he had been or to continue the yarn of convalesce at home.

“If you were not here then where were you?” asked the officer, somewhat, compellingly this time.” He got no answer.

Sant Ram cautioned him, “Where were you, here or elsewhere. Come clean or will be courting trouble.”

“I did not murder her. Honest. I swear to god. I did not do it.” Sudesh replied in terror-stricken voice. Sudesh began to sob bitterly. The outburst of fright set him thinking on another course.

Sant Ram’s perspective of the event began to transform rapidly. He mull over the situation afresh. Sudesh was lying through his teeth. There was a  woman murdered in the house. Her husband, recuperating from headache in a room close by, was claiming ignorance of events. He was not willing to account for his movement during the day. Sant Ram, an officer of limited talent was not to be taken in this time. Affable as he was, Sant Ram was not a derelict officer who would shy away from his duty and allow a murderer to escape from justice.

          It was his first important case, also

“I arrest you for the murder of Mrs. Rani Kumar.”

Stories retold

Sunday

                  It was Sunday and dinner time.

“Now finish off dinner Ants (for that was what Papa and Mama called her) brush your teeth and go to bed. Tomorrow you have to go to school and if you do not go to bed now you will never wake up in the morning on time.” Mummy ordered.

Little Ants scowled, “No, I am not sleepy.” She looked up at Papa and there was a conspiratorial exchange of glances between the father and the daughter.

 Papa said, “All right do as Mummy says and I will join you in the bed and tell you a story.” When Ants and Papa were cosily settled in the bed, the pre-story- telling haggling began.

Ants said, “Please, Four stories.”

Papa replied, “It is late baby, only one.”

Ants climbed down, she said, “only three.” “Alright, only two stories.”

Papa smiled and agreed to the bargain for he knew that by the time he had finished the first story, Ants will be fast asleep. Thus ended the daily game of bargain and papa began the story of ‘The clever master and a cleverer servant’

                   Once upon a time there was a land lord. He was called so because he owned lot of lands, even several villages. He rented out the land to several tenants who would cultivate it and then share the produce with him. Sometimes, though rarely, the tenants would pay in cash. The land lord would routinely visit the villages where his tenants were cultivating his lands to collect the rent. Now, the land lord ensured that all the tenants paid his dues regularly. He was difficult with the recalcitrant and would not tolerate default in payment. The villagers, therefore, were afraid of him. They did not wish to annoy him in any way; for if he got angry, he could evict them from the lands or increase the rent and thus make their difficult lives more difficult. The farmers were poor and feared the prospect. Therefore, the farmers treated him with great respect and made him comfortable whenever he came to their village to collect the rent and to check the crops in the fields.

                   Although the land lord was very ruthless in the matter of collecting his dues from the farmers yet he was not a bad man. Sometimes, he would also help the needy among the tenants. When not angered by some tenant who had not paid his rent, he would be friendly. He would sit with then, under the Banyan tree and would talk to them and offer friendly advice. He would also participate in the village functions with the rest of the villagers. The farmers enjoyed talking to him for he told them stories about the city where they had not been and many other stories which they found interesting.

                   One day he went to a village to collect the rent. He took his servant whom he had engaged not too long ago, along with him. Therefore, he asked the servant to keep close to him and kept checking frequently to ensure that the servant followed his instructions faithfully. The land lord went to the first village on his itinerary. He met many villagers and talked to them about many things of interest to them. The villagers offered him sugar cane juice and many nice things to eat. Afterwards, he collected the rent which was the main purpose of his visit. Then he bid them good bye and started for the next village which he had planned to visit.

                  The visit to the second village followed the same pattern. He reached there around the lunch time. He met the village elders and the other tenants. The tenants offered him many delicacies for lunch and ripe and sweet fruits after the lunch. Again, he collected the rent and bid good bye to the villagers and set off for the third village. His tummy was full now and he began to feel lazy. However, he decided to continue his journey and went to the third village.

                   When the villagers heard that he had arrived they came to meet with him. He sat down, under a neem tree, with the village elders. The others sat on the ground, around them, in a half circle so that they could see each other and engage in conversation. After the meeting was finished they offered him chicken to eat and a bottle of good local wine to drink. The land lord had already eaten too much and did not feel that he could eat any more. The villagers insisted that he honour them by accepting their offering. He did not wish to disappoint the simple and hospitable village people. He, therefore, suggested that they give the chicken and the wine to him to be carried back to his home. The villagers agreed. They  poured the wine in a bottle and put the fish in plate of leaves which they covered with a piece of cloth and gave to him.

                  The land lord had to visit two more villages and did not wish to carry the gifts all over. He asked the servant to carry them back to his home and give to his wife. However, the servant was new and the Land Lord was not sure if he could trust the servant with the treasure. The Land Lord was fearful that the servant may consume it himself or just carry it to his own home instead! And then make some excuse and claim loss en route. Therefore, to make sure that this did not happen he made up a story. He told the servant that the bottle contained deadly poison. Under the cloth on the plate of leaves, he told the servant, there was a bird which will fly away if the cloth was removed. He thought that it will panic the servant so that he would not become too curious about the package. He then handed over the package to the servant and instructed him to carry it safely home to give to the land lord’s wife. He again cautioned the servant to be very careful with the charge. The servant took the bottle and the plate of leaves and went away promising that he would indeed be very careful.

                  The land lord went away to visit the other two villages which were on his itinerary. He spent a lot of time with the people there. He also visited a village fair. The collection that day had been good. He set off to return to his home late in the evening in a happy frame of mind. The journey was long and very tedious. When he reached home he was very tired and hungry. He told his wife that he had had a long tiring day and that he was very hungry. He asked for his dinner. The wife told him that there was nothing available for dinner. She will have to prepare meal which will take long. She let him know that while going out for the journey in the morning, he had told her not to prepare meals. He had expected the villagers to give him food which he will carry back to his house for dinner.

               The land lord told her not to worry and to bring the fowl and the bottle of wine which he had sent though the new servant. The wife said that she knew nothing about the fowl or the bottle of wine and the servant had not returned. This surprised as well as angered the land lord. Cursing the servant, he went out to look for the errant servant. The land lord found the servant, nearby, sleeping contentedly under a tree. In anger, he kicked the servant awake and called for his explanation as to where be the cargo he was given to hand over to the wife and what was he doing there dozing?

                  The servant got up rubbing his eyes and drawing a long face.

He said, “Sir, forgive me please. I have no face to show you. I had promised to you that I will carry the consignment very carefully but what to do? While I was coming back there came a gush of wind which carried the cloth away. There upon the bird flew away.”

Baffled and suspicious, the land lord asked, “Then where is the bottle of poison?” The servant replied. “Sir, please forgive me, I beseech you. I had failed you and this mortified me so much that I decided to end my life rather than show my face to you. So I drank the poison.”    

 

 

Monday

It was monday and dinner time.    

“Now finish off dinner Ants (for that was what Papa and Mama called her) brush your teeth and go to bed. Tomorrow you have to go to school and if you do not go to bed now you will never wake up in the morning on time.” Mummy ordered.

Little Ants scowled, “No, I am not sleepy.” She looked up at Papa and there was a conspiratorial exchange of glances between the father and the daughter.

 Papa said, “All right do as Mummy says and I will join you in the bed and tell you a story.” When Ants and Papa were cosily settled in the bed, the pre-story- telling haggling began.

Ants said, “Please, Four stories.”

Papa replied, “It is late baby, only one.”

Ants climbed down, she said, “only three.” “Alright, only two stories.”

Papa smiled and agreed to the bargain for he knew that by the time he had finished the first story, Ants will be fast asleep. Thus ended the daily game of bargain and papa began the story of ‘Chief of Toads goes to war’

Once upon a time, there lived chief of Toads,

With his pretty wife, loveliest among the line of Toads.

And in the evenings, through the streets, Mister and Missus toad,

With pomp and aplomb, frogs driven cart, they rode.

Work is worship was his creed,

Early in the morning, each day, to work he would proceed.

 And the lady toad tended to the young brood and the household,

 Thus were spent, blissfully, the days of the blessed toads.

      

Alas! Happiness is but a short interlude,

In the general drama of livelihood.       

And fate, the villain, hiding behind the bush stood,

With a stone, at the solar plexus of the toad, aimed.       

       

                  

That morn when the toad had gone,

On this daily errand.

The wicked King happened to pass by,

And took a great fancy to his wife       

.

The King picked up the little lady toad in his palm,

And admiring, asked courtiers to carry her to the palace farm.

For there he will keep her with other animals big and small,

And her protests ignored, she was carried to the new home.

When the Toad came back home that evening,

His nervous neighbours told him, of the cruel king’s doing.

Sad though, he swore vengeance upon the king,

And back to his home, dear wife bring.

Counseled some discretion is better part of gallantry,

Better use TV and deal with matter subtlety.  

Say some, call Ms Barkha Dutt,

She will arrange a group discussion and expose the humbug.

Quoth he “such shows generate heat not light,

Counseled some, never mind TRP and prepare for the fight.

Suggested others, helpful Karan Thapar may be more,

Assemble eminent persons, and highlight the felony, as never before.

                  

The Toad had no faith in a government committee like deliberation,

Said he, ‘Thapar will ask long winded questions, follow with Interruptions.                          

Not permit the Eminence to prevail and the Cause lost in Altercation,         

He decided to work on his volition.

So next morn, the Toad, harnessed his cart drawn by frogs six,

Readied to go to the place to battle the king and issue fix.

Set forth he to where the king lived,

Alone and single-minded. 

Now the road was though the thicket wending,

But the chief was determined on his undertaking.

He encountered a cluster of wasps deadly,

But the little Toad found them friendly.

They asked, “Hello! Little Toad, where are you going,

Though the road is terrible and it’s early in the morning?”                   

 And the Toad said,

“Dear friends, I am but a small hapless toad,

Whose wife the cruel King stole.

And now I go to retrieve dear wife and punish the Bad,

So I say give courage, please help me God.”

The Wasps were moved by the bravery of the Toad and offered to go with him to fight the bad king. The Toad thanked them and replied thus to their offer:

                 “Tra- la-la la-la, abracadabra,

                My good friends hurry and be seated into my ears large.

                And come out when I call for help and into the enemy barge,

                God willing, we will punish the despot and his army large.”

              So all the Wasp settled into his ears and the Toad drove forth.

          

                

                  The warriors travelled for many hours on vengeance keen,

                  The meandering narrow course of the green.

                  And then they happened to meet,

                  A group of pachyderm, merrily, feeding on the cane sweet.

                The happy and contended group of elephants asked the Toad,

“Hello! Little Toad, where are you going,

Though the road is terrible and it’s now meal time?”

And the Toad said,

“Dear friends, I am but a small hapless toad,

Whose wife the cruel King stole.

And now I go to retrieve dear wife and punish the Bad,

So I say give courage, please help me God.”

   The Pachyderms were astonished to see the brave little Toad who wished to punish he cruel and powerful king. In their merry mood they offered to go with him to fight the bad king. Toad was grateful to his new friends and replied thus to their offer,

                  “Tra- la-la la-la, abracadabra,

                 My good friends hurry and be seated into my ears large.

                 And come out when I call for help and into the enemy barge,

                 God willing, we will punish the despot and his army large.”

                 So all the elephants also settled into his ears and the Toad drove forth.

                 Together, on the cart, they drove on for the better part,

                 Of the day, through the valley where they made tart.

                 For the king, and in the river young fishes play.

                  And beyond the river, the Kings capital lay.

                  The river after the monsoon was no more in fierce mood,

                 Full, serene and tranquil, gentle it flowed.

                 It saw the caravan approach sombre and gingerly,

                 So it called out in voice most friendly.

She asked, “Hello! Little Toad, where are you going,

Though the road is terrible and it is late in the evening?”

And the Toad said,

“Dear friend, I am but a small hapless toad,

Whose wife the cruel King stole.

And now I go to retrieve dear wife and punish the Bad,

So I say give courage, please help me God.”

The river, too, was in a good mood for this monsoon, when it was in spate, it had consumed many bad constructions on its banks. The river did not like construction on its banks which constrict its flood basin. They restricted its natural progress and degraded the environment. For it was in good mood, it decided to a extend help to the toad who accepted the offer gratefully and said,

                        

                 “Tra- la-la la-la, abracadabra,

                 My good friends hurry and be seated into my ears large.

                 And come out when I call for help and into the enemy barge,

                 God willing, we will punish the despot and his army large.”

So the river too settled into his ears and the Toad drove forth. They soon reached the palace of the kind. The toad found a sentry on the gate and told him to inform the king that the he had come to claim his wife. The King must return his wife; else, he and his friends will fight the King. The sentry was angered by such fool-hardy talk of the toad. “How dare a mere toad order around King’s sentry and how dare he threaten the king?” he thought.

The sentry ordered Toad to go away if he wished to remain alive. But Toad pointed out to him that it was sentry’s duty to inform his King. If the King found out that the sentry was not doing his duty then the King will punish him. This scared the sentry. He ran inside the palace and informed the King. On getting the message of the Toad the King too was amused. “Who is this foolish little toad who has come to challenge my might? Let me go and see him.” He thought. The King came out of the palace to see the toad and started laughing hysterically when saw his foolish little enemy.

He said, “So you have come to fight with me you little Toad. Run away before my mirth turns into anger and I order my sentry to kill you.”

Toad replied, “Yes, cruel King! I have come to fight you and your army. And I am not alone. My friends the wasps, the elephants and river are also with me. The wasps will sting you and your men and the Elephants will crush them under their feet. The river will drown you all.”

Then speaking to his allies he said, “Friends, please come out and show yourselves to the King.” The wasps and the elephants and the river came out of his ears. When the king saw this mighty army of the Toad, he was terrified. He meekly returned the lady Toad and sued for peace. He also promised to become a good King, thereafter.

The Toad asked his allies to return into his ears. Then he climbed into his carriage with his queen. He returned through the same route which he had taken earlier to reach the palace. He dropped his friends at their places and thanked them for their help. The friends also promised to meet often. Then he returned to his home with his queen and lived happily with her for many years.

.

Tuesday                                        

                   It was Tuesday and dinner time.

“Now finish off dinner Ants (for that was what Papa and Mama called her) brush your teeth and go to bed. Tomorrow you have to go to school and if you do not go to bed now you will never wake up in the morning on time.” Mummy ordered.

Little Ants scowled, “No, I am not sleepy.” She looked up at Papa and there was a conspiratorial exchange of glances between the father and the daughter.

 Papa said, “All right do as Mummy says and I will join you in the bed and tell you a story.” When Ants and Papa were cosily settled in the bed, the pre-story- telling haggling began.

Ants said, “Please, Four stories.”

Papa replied, “It is late baby, only one.”

Ants climbed down, she said, “only three.” “Alright, only two stories.”

Papa smiled and agreed to the bargain for he knew that by the time he had finished the first story, Ants will be fast asleep. Thus ended the daily game of bargain and papa began the story of ‘Mekka , Ekka and Dekka’  

 

In jungle of Maya, there live a goat named Mekka,

She had two lovely kids, Ekka and Dekka.

They fought and they mocked and they hassled and they frolicked,

In the benign care of mother Mekka.

Each day Mekka had to go in search of food to fill her tummy,

With soft green grass, nourishing and yummy.

She would go to the pasture green,

Leaving ,Ekka and Dekka behind, with instructions keen.

While the mother was out to the grazing land,

Brothers ordered not to let in any straggler or a vagabond.

And open the door to Mummy, on hearing the coded knock

Which were three taps and a call, “Dears, it’s Mummy’s knock.”

Next morning Mekka went to the pasture,

Her children secure, she dined well in rapture.

She came back and the door she thrice knocked,

And called out, “Dears, it’s Mummy’s knock.”

Delighted the kids opened the door to the parent, missing of yore,

And they kissed, they hugged and they yakked a lot more.

Lurking in a bush, a wolf was watching the song and dance of it all,

Unknown to the threesome, he learnt of the code and all.

Next day Mekka went to devour the grass green,

Behind her back, came the wolf to her cottage entirely unseen.

He came to the door, thrice did he knock,

And aloud he said, “Dears, it’s Mummy’s knock.”

Delighted kids opened the door to the mother,

But Alas! It was the carnivore.

He gobbled them promptly

And sat down to wait for Mekka, quite gleefully

She came back to see the door ajar; Mekka was left in wonderment,

Surely, something was amiss, it was a deadly predicament.

She ambled up to the door and thrice did she knock,

And softly did she blurt, “Dears, it’s Mummy’s knock.”

Joyous wolf, wholesome dinner anticipating,

Replied in his hoarse and gruffly voice, unthinking.

“Ekka was delectable and Dekka was tasty,

Come in, thou too, I am sure, art quite yummy.”

Mekka then recognized it was the wicked wolf alight,

She ran and ran and ran in to jungle and then she espied

A tall and sturdy hunter, unto him she confide her tale of woe,

He had not seen a game that day so he said, “oh!

 Lead me, my dear, to the wicked wolf quickly,

I shall slay it and end your misery.”

Together they went to hunt, Mekka called out to the creature,

And the predator came out and was shot by the hunter.

Huntsman slit wolf’s stomach with his dagger slithering,

And lo and behold!  Both, Ekka and Dekka came out tumbling.

Grateful thanks to the shikari in hour of deliverance,

They proclaimed eternal gratitude to his benevolence

Delighted they came close, had missed one another for long,

And they kissed and they hugged and they yakked a lot lot more.

Wednesday

                  It was Wednesday and dinner time.

“Now finish off dinner Ants (for that was what Papa and Mama called her) brush teeth and go to bed. Tomorrow you have to go to school and if you do not go to bed now you will never wake up in the morning on time.” Mummy ordered.

Little Ants scowled, “No, I am not sleepy.” She looked up at Papa and there was a conspiratorial exchange of glances between the father and the daughter.

 Papa said, “All right do as Mummy says and I will join you in the bed and tell you a story.” When Ants and Papa were cosily settled in the bed, the pre-story- telling haggling began.

Ants said, “Please, Four stories.”

Papa replied, “It is late baby, only one.”

Ants climbed down, she said, “only three.” “Alright, only two stories.”

Papa smiled and agreed to the bargain for he knew that by the time he had finished the first story, Ants will be fast asleep. Thus ended the daily game of bargain and papa began the story of ‘The virus ’

                   Depika was a young and healthy child. She was good at her studies and good at games. She was also a good swimmer and participated in all her school activities. Her teachers were very fond of her for she was a good and well behaved child. Her friends were also fond of her because she was friendly and helpful.

                   One day she came back from her school and complained of cold and headache. Her face was flushed red. Her mother put her to bed and covered her in a quilt to keep her warm and comfortable. The next morning she developed fever and rashes appeared on her face and limbs. Her parents realised that she had caught measles. Measles is an infection which children catch when they come in contact with another person suffering from the disease. Her parents knew that she will be all right in a few weeks; however, they decided not to send her to the school the next day. They asked her friends not to visit her till she had got well. They took this precaution so that other children in the neighbourhood did not catch the infection from her. They called a doctor. The doctor examined her and declared that it was measles all right. He asked her parents why she had not been vaccinated against measles. He was told that Depika was scared of being vaccinated. He prescribed medicines and ordered that when she got well she was to be vaccinated. When he was about to go, Depika asked her why she had fallen ill. The Doctor smiled and sat down next to her and explained.

                   “You are aware that a country has neighbours, some friendly and some not so. Therefore, the country needs and maintains defence forces. The defence forces are ever prepared to protect her from enemies. Similarly we are also surrounded by viruses that attack us all the time and make us sick when we are not strong and unable to resist the attack of the virus.

                   Doctor told her that we become sick when a virus declares war upon the body of a weak person who is not strong enough to defend. Virus and bad bacteria of many kinds are all around us at all the time. Our bodies fight them and do not allow them to make us sick. Just like the Indian army who are vigilant all the time and protect the nation, our bodies too have an army of their own which protect us from diseases. This army resides in our blood. It has its soldiers like the regular army has its own. These soldiers are called white blood corpuscles (WBCs). These are the soldiers of our body. Whenever there is an attack by enemy viruses these soldiers take position and start fighting the intruders and defeat them so we remain healthy to enjoy a happy life.

                  An invading enemy can attack from air, water or surface. In the same manner the virus may enter into our body through the air we breathe, the water we drink or touché someone who is infected. When a virus attack takes, place our WBCs counter attack it. Many WBCs are martyred. This fight may be noticed in the body as a swelling, fever or one may become unwell in some other way. When our soldiers finally defeat the virus we again become healthy. There are casualties on both sides. Some of WBCs die for us. But our body soon makes more of them to keep our defence strong.

                   Sometimes the virus wins. It is not a nice thought, yet it may happen. The virus enters some part of the body. Then they begin to spread if not stopped. The blood in our body provides them with good food and means of transport. This helps virus to multiply and spread to many areas. Again, like an invading army, it attacks the most vital parts of the body. It can attack the brain, the heart and the lungs etc. WBCs, the soldiers of our body, fight valiantly. But to win a war an army needs to train its soldiers well and also arm them sufficiently. So if our WBCs are not ready and prepared for the fight, strong and well equipped, then they can lose the war against the invading army. Then the person may even die. Some people neglect this important precaution against falling ill. But wise among us keep their defence strong and avoid falling ill.

                   How do we avoid falling ill? Now you know the army keeps its soldiers prepared to defend the country by keeping them fit, providing proper food and gives them the best weapons to fight with. The body can also prepare its defence, similarly. The body needs regular exercise. It must be given good food like the vegetables, nut and fruits etc, to eat. It will keep army of WBCs healthy and in sufficient numbers to keep the enemy at bay. Now, the body must also provide, WBCs, with the weapons to fight the enemy. The weapons for the army of WBCs are vaccinations and inoculations. These are like guns, tanks and the fighter air craft of the WBCs. The WBCs use these weapons to defeat the virus. Now when the virus attack begins our defenders quickly reach the spot and give battle to the invaders. Fortified with good food, made strong by regular exercise and sufficiently armed with vaccination our soldiers defeat the virus and keep the body healthy.

                   If you had been vaccinated then your WBCs would have had the weapons to fight the disease. You caught the measles because you were not vaccinated. You need not worry, though. I have prescribed medicines which will help you to conquer this virus and you will be well in a few days. But remember, when you get well, get vaccinated.”

Thursday

                  It was Thursday and dinner time.

“Now finish off dinner Ants (for that was what Papa and Mama called her) brush teeth and go to bed. Tomorrow you have to go to school and if you do not go to bed now you will never wake up in the morning on time.” Mummy ordered.

Little Ants scowled, “No, I am not sleepy.” She looked up at Papa and there was a conspiratorial exchange of glances between the father and the daughter.

 Papa said, “All right do as Mummy says and I will join you in the bed and tell you a story.” When Ants and Papa were cosily settled in the bed, the pre-story- telling haggling began.

Ants said, “Please, Four stories.”

Papa replied, “It is late baby, only one.”

Ants climbed down, she said, “only three.” “Alright, only two stories.”

Papa smiled and agreed to the bargain for he knew that by the time he had finished the first story, Ants will be fast asleep. Thus ended the daily game of bargain and papa began the story of ‘The horse which will fly’

                   The state of Rajasthan is in the south west of Delhi. It was formed after India became independent. Before independence there were many small kingdoms which now constitute the state of Rajasthan. These kingdoms were, nominally, ruled by the Rajput chieftains. The British ruled most of India then. They used to appoint a British Officer called the Resident to each of these kingdoms. The British had forced this arrangement on these kingdoms. You have visited the Residency at Lucknow. It is called the Residency because it housed the office and the residence of the British Resident and his officers. It was really the British Resident who ruled.

                   Many among the rulers of these states were not even inclined to attend to the affairs of the state. They were content to collect taxes and use the money on harebrained pursuits. So the Kings would have lots of time and very little to do. Now this king whose story I am going to tell you was one such a king. Having abdicated his duty to the state, he would indulge in whatever caught his fancy. He would, at any time, order his ministers to undertake far-fetched missions, specially, when he had consumed opium. His officers were always eager to oblige for that was what they did any way! Also, because he would reward handsomely if pleased and punish those who failed him, they competed to please him. One day when he was visiting his garden, he noticed that there were no almond trees in the garden. He told his minister to plant some and also called upon the minister to explain why he had not thought of it himself. Now you cannot grow almonds in that arid area. But the minister was afraid to tell the truth. He knew that the king was keen to have almond trees in his garden. He was unlikely to accept any reason which did not gratify his desire. Fortunately for the minister, something else caught the attention of the king. He soon forgot about the almond plantation. On another occasion the King walked in to a play ground where a game of foot ball was in progress. He saw two of his young ministers playing and running after the ball. This annoyed him. He called for them and scolded them for running after the ball like some urchins! He told them to order their servants to play and watch the game from outside, he said, “Like decent gentlemen officers!”

                   Now, one day, he went to the race course where horse race takes place. It was a round turf where the horses were to run. He saw some very nice horses of fine pedigree. He was impressed. Then the races began which he enjoyed immensely for he had only to watch like a ‘gentleman’ and not participate in the game himself. He enjoyed the race.

                   It occurred to him that the horses there had to run around the turf and how splendid it would be if the horses could fly. Then they would fly directly to the winning post and not go round the ground. His Prime Minister was sitting next to him. He narrated his splendid idea to his Prime Minister who immediately acknowledge the brilliance of the King and said, “What a brilliant idea, Ann-Data” (giver of food. The king was addressed as Ann-Data by all his people). The Minister then had no idea of what was coming next and which was to make a lot of trouble for him. Pleased, the king said, “You are a good Prime Minister. You appreciate a good idea when I tell you of one. Now I want you to procure a good horse which can fly for my stable and get it quickly.”

                   The Prime Minister was taken aback at the demand. He did not know where to find a horse which could fly. He sent his officers, in all the four directions, to find the horse that could fly. The officers returned, after a few days, to intimate to him their failure to find the horse that could fly. The Prime Minister had to inform the King that he had sent his men every where they could go yet the horse that could fly was not found. However, before the King could express his displeasure at this failure, the Prime Minister hastily added, “If the Ann-Data would kindly agree then I would advertise throughout the state. Anyone who has  such a horse would be pleased to make good profit by selling it to the royal stable.” In those days, the advertising was done by a team consisting of a drummer and a reader. They would go from place to place. The drummer would beat the drum to attract attention and then the reader would read out the message.

                 Luckily, the king agreed and told the Prime Minister that the good man who would give him the horse that could fly must be rewarded well. However, to ensure that no con man may try to swindle, the man should be beheaded if the horse failed to fly. The Prime Minister was saved from the imminent punishment but just for a while. He quickly arranged for his officers to go around the state and notify the people that the king wished to acquire a horse that could fly. The citizens were told that if anyone had or could provide such a horse, he must provide it to the royal stable. He would be handsomely rewarded. However, he who would make false claim will be beheaded.

                   Jassu was a lazy vagrant. He never did anything and earned no money. He would, though, all the time, dream of becoming rich. His wife used to work hard to maintain the family. He would sometimes take money from her and spend it on himself. He was also addicted to opium. That day when the officers came to his village to announce about the King’s diktat he was lying, near a village shop, in opium induced stupor but he heard the officers well enough. At first, he thought that they were a bunch of tricksters trying to swindle the simple village folks. However, he soon realized that they were officers of the state. Now, though, he thought of them as a bunch of fools who expected to find a horse which could fly, he also recognized that there was an opportunity, to make some easy money, knocking at his doors. He approached them and volunteered to provide one to their master provided the payment was good. The officers were delighted to find someone who could do the impossible and save them and the Prime Minister from the impending trouble. They said that money was of no importance as the King was rich and was also impatient to acquire the horse which could fly. They straight away took him to the Prime Minister. The Prime Minister was overjoyed to meet with Jassu who was going to make available the horse which could fly. He personally took Jassu to the king’s palace to meet with the king who too was happy to meet with the person who was going to cater to his fancy and provide the horse which could fly.

The king asked him, “So, my good man, you can give us horse which can fly?”

The king always spoke of himself in plural.

Jassu said, “Yes, Ann-Data.”

King asked, “Do you know all the terms? Do you agree to them?”

Jasu said, “Yes, Ann-Data, I do.”

The king again asked, “Can you do the job.”

Jassu said, “Yes, Ann-Data but.”

King said, “What is this we hear but? We accept no conditions; no ifs or buts. Just tell us if you can give us the flying horse or not.”

Jassu replied, “Ann-Data, I can but it will cost a lot of money and will also take long time because I will have to produce one especially for you. You are all knowing, you know, ordinary horses do not fly.”

King said, “We know. All right state your terms.”

Jassu, “Ann-Data, I will need a few villages to rear it. It must have lots of space to practice flying. I also need a large house with a good garden and some gardeners to grow appropriate feed for the horse.”

King, “Granted”

Jassu, “I will need a crore of rupees to build a proper stable, to feed it and look after it.”

King, “Granted.”

Jaasu, “I will also need diamonds, pearls and other precious stones. It is going to be a very special horse. It cannot be treated like any other horse of poor pedigree.”

King, “Granted. What else?”

Jassu, “Ann-Data. I will need 40 servants to help me in this arduous task.”

King, “Granted. Prime Minister arrange for it all. Now when will you deliver the horse?”

Jassu, “Ann-Data it has to be reared with care. You are good judge of steed. You accept only the best. And now you have desired a very special kind of horse.”

King, “Yes. Yes. We know that. But when will you give the horse? No conning. You know the terms. We are very generous but we do not tolerate humbugs or suffer the fools.”

Jassu, “Yes, Ann-Data. You are also a very wise King also. But as I submitted to you it will take time to raise such an animal as you desire. I must give you the very best. It must be the best, even among the horses which fly. It will take fifteen years.”

King, “We grant to you fifteen years but no more and expect no extension of time or any leniency.

Jasu bowed, praised the King several times and then departed.

The Prime Minister followed him. He arranged to provide to Jassu all that which the King had granted to him.

               When his wife heard about the onerous and dangerous task which Jassu had undertaken, she was beside herself with grief. She knew that Jassu was good for nothing. He was surely going to be beheaded at end of the contracted period. She began to wail and shout at him in anger.

 “You wretch! You good for nothing greedy lout! Why did you accept this job? You are sure to be beheaded. What will then happen to me? What will then become of our children? Why did you not think of us?” And she cried some more.

              Jassu was amused and said, “Dear wife, why you lament so while I am still alive. We have now everything which you and I could have ever desired. Enjoy it all. I may not be alive to receive the punishment. You may not live till then or the King may die. For all you know the horse may fly! Let us make hay while there is sun shine in our lives.

Friday

                   It was Friday and dinner time.

“Now finish off dinner Ants (for that was what Papa and Mama called her) brush your teeth and go to bed. Tomorrow you have to go to school and if you do not go to bed now you will never wake up in the morning on time.” Mummy ordered.

Little Ants scowled, “No, I am not sleepy.” She looked up at Papa and there was a conspiratorial exchange of glances between the father and the daughter.

 Papa said, “All right do as Mummy says and I will join you in the bed and tell you a story.” When Ants and Papa were cosily settled in the bed, the pre-story- telling haggling began.

Ants said, “Please, Four stories.”

Papa replied, “It is late baby, only one.”

Ants climbed down, she said, “only three.” “Alright, only two stories.”

Papa smiled and agreed to the bargain for he knew that by the time he had finished the first story, Ants will be fast asleep. Thus ended the daily game of bargain and papa began the story of ‘The holy bath’

                   Matai Ram was a religious man. He lived in a village very near the town of Sidhauli which is mid way between the state capital, Lucknow and Sitapur. In sixty years of his existence he had maintained a disciplined life style. He was the twice born. This is so because it is said that people of his cast are born twice, once on the day when they are actually born and another time, when they bear the scared thread, called yagyopaveet, for the first time. The thread is worn at all the time, across the trunk and is forgotten there, except when the wearer proceeds for ablution. Then he must wrap it around his ear. Matai Ram was an early riser. So that every morning he would wrap the sacred thread around his ear and proceed for daily ablution. Thereafter, he would sit in his pooja room and recite from the Ram Charitra Manas and then do aarti. He would then go out looking for some fakirs and feed them. It was his custom not to eat himself until he had fed some fakirs. He would then have his vegetarian breakfast. It took him considerable time to complete the routine. However, by ten of the clock he was ready to attend to more mundane chores which kept his family and himself in comparative luxury. Matai Ram had a small shop in which he kept large variety of items of daily use of the villagers. His was the only shop in the village. This mini mall attracted most of the villagers throughout the day. It kept him busy as well as, rather, well-off. It must, however, be said that Matai Ram did not waste his riches and used his wealth well.

                   Matai Ram had lived all his life in Sidhauli. His travel was restricted to Lucknow where he used to go regularly to buy goods for his shop from the whole sellers. In Lucknow he would go straight to the whole sellers’ place, order for the good he intended to buy, make payment, always in cash and collect his goods. He would then go straight to the railway station or the bus stand, as may be appropriate and return to his native village. Other than procuring the goods for his shop, he had no interest in the city of Lucknow or any other city. He had no wish to visit the far off cities. He did not desire to see the mountains of the north or the peninsular south, the Ghats of the east or the west. But he loved all about his village. He loved his family, his friends and, indeed, all the men folks of his village whom he had known, since ever, he imagined. He was a simple person. He adored his house, his shop, and the festivals, and the community puja sessions of the village. Anything thing associated with his village was dear to him. His life had shrunk within the territorial limits of his village and he had no desire to expand it either. He, though, cherished a longing, yet unfulfilled, to visit the holy places and to take a dip in the holy waters of the river Ganga. This intense yearning had remained frustrated, mainly, due to his equally intense distaste for travel.

                   On the Monday, after the festival of Janamashtmai, Suhkdev, and his sons came to visited Matai Ram at his shop. They had brought some Prasad from the shrine of Kedarnath for him. He was pleased to receive the holy Prasad. He thanked them and said, “Brother, I admire you for your adventurous spirit. You went so far away in to those mountains and brought Prasad for all of us. You have done a good job. God will surely bless you for this good deed.”

Sukhdev replied, “It is nothing, brother. It is our duty to the village to let them share in our act of piety. And as far as the matter of adventure is concerned, it is indeed no adventure at all. All you have to do is to go Lucknow and catch the train to Hardwar from where you get a bus ride to Gaurikund and thence to Kedar, by foot. En route, there are places where you can stay and have meals. You can choose the one which suits your pocket. Why do you also not go to the holy place and earn the blessing of lord Kedar”

Matai Ram, “I am deeply tempted to do so, brother but the thought of travel fills me with strange forebodings. I so wish I could go to the holy places and to the mother Ganga to take a dip into its holy waters but I cannot travel. I loathe travel, what to do?”

Sukhdev, “Well if you do not wish to travel far, still you may, if you so wish, go to Kanpur and take the holy dip there. Kanpur is not far off. You are familiar with Lucknow where you go often for business.  Kanpur is just another two hours by bus or train from there; you take your dip and be back by the evening, that is, if you start early in the morning.’’

Matai Ram, “Brother what you say tempts me. Let us see if my fate has so ordained. If I have done some good deeds, surely mother Ganga will call me to herself. Only those whom she calls are the lucky ones who go to her.”

                   Sukhdev agreed. However, at this point the visit was terminated because Sukhdev had to go to others to give Prasad to them. He took leave of Matai Ram. Sukhdev and his sons went away. However, the encouraging discussion with Sukhdev and partaking of the holy Prasad had elated Matai Ram and had left him thinking. He deliberated upon the idea and found it appealing. There was not any need to go to Lucknow to change train either. There was a morning train arriving from Sitapur which will take him to Kanpur via Lucknow. In Kanpur, he will go to the bathing ghat. It cannot take too long for the Ghat must be within the city.  At the Ghat, he will say prayer, and then go for the holy dip. This will not take much time. On his way back it will be convenient to take bus ride back to Lucknow, change bus there and then back to Sidhauli. The more he thought about it the more he liked it. He even went to the station master at Sidhauli railway station to consult with him to ensure that there was no error in the plan. When the station master also approved it, he went back to discuss it with his wife. The wife agreed with the idea but had little to contribute as far as the travel plan was concerned. All her life she had travelled only between Sidhauli and her father’s village, Barai, a few kilometres away.

                  The husband and the wife decided that he would go to Kanpur the following Tuesday as Tuesday is an auspicious day. So early in the morning Matai Ram packed a bag with clothes and a towel so that he could change after the holy bath. His wife, thoughtfully, packed some fruits and lunch and gave him enough money for the travel and to buy Prasad. He also kept some money so that he may give alms to fakirs. All these went into his bag. Then he changed into his best pair of pyjama-kurta and wore the new sandals he had bought only recently. He was now dressed for the occasion. He bid good bye to his family and went to the railway station, bought the ticket for Kanpur and stood waiting for the train which arrived soon. He went into a compartment, did not find sitting space and so sat down in front of the toilet. The train moved soon and in an hour he reached Lucknow and then it took the train another one hour and half to reach Kanpur where he got down. He had only a small bag containing his clothes and money which did not require hiring a coolie. He went out of the station and hired a rickshaw to take him to the bathing ghat. Nothing exciting or untoward had taken place. This was very reassuring to our hero, Matai Ram whose all apprehensions had disappeared and he was in a cheerful mood in expectation of his encounter with his dear mother Ganga.

He reached the ghat soon enough. He paid the rickshaw puller the settled amount and moved to the ghat. He was now on the top of the ghat stairs leading to the river. He could see the mother Ganga moving swiftly, carrying a lot of city filth. This distressed him but the site of the mother was so blissful that he soon forgot about it. He joined his hands in salutation to the river and bowed from the waist in veneration and then took a few steps down towards the river.

                   He was accosted by two young fellows. The elder of the two said, ‘O Mausa, (Husband of the sister of mother), do you come from sasural (wife’s place before marriage) in Kheeri. Where is Mausi (mother’s sister)?

Matai Ram looked up at the boys and replied, “My apology but do I know you?”

“Mausa, surely, you are joking. You are famous for your jovial nature. My elders have told me so.”

“Honestly I am unable to connect.”

The boy laughed, “Mausa, you do not recognize us. We are your nephews. Now tell us where is Mausi?”

 Matai Ram was uncomfortable but replied, “No I come from Sidhauli and my wife has not come with me. My sasural is in Barai and not in Kheri. You boys are mistaken about me. I am not your Mausa.”

“I know that Mausi is from Barai. Someone had told me that her brother had been in kheeri for some time and that she had gone to meet him.” Digressing from the enquiry about mausi he asked, “You do not recognize me Mausa? Oh, but how can you? It has been so long. I have grown up during these years. I have changed. You remain the same; I recognize you. You have not changed one bit except for some silver in your hair. It becomes you Mausa.

Matai Ram was confused, “But her brother is still in Barai. He never went to Kheri or anywhere else.”

“No! A friend had come from Barai and had told me so. Shocking how people give wrong information. They consider it a joke but I can tell you, this is no joke. One must respect relationships and provide correct information about the relatives whom one has not met for long. My! How does one explain this to these city dwellers?”  

Matai Ram was bewildered and also embarrassed. He had not recognised a close relative.

“You must be Matadin’s son then. How is he? He was planning to buy a cow when I met him last.”

“Oh! Father bought a lovely cow. It gives lot of milk. It was a good purchase. But, first tell if you have come for the holy dip in the mother Ganga? If so, you take the dip first. We will talk later when I take you to my modest place. Do not let me distract you now”

“Yes. Indeed. I have come to take dip in the river. I have this bag. Where do I keep it?”

“Just leave it here with us. We will wait for you to return and then take you to my place for some refreshment.”

“Do not bother. I have something to eat, here, which your Mausi gave to me when I left Sidhauli. You are worthy sons of your worthy father. Very well, hold this bag while I go for the holy dip.”

                   So saying, Matai ram gave the bag in the care of the nephews. He took off all his clothes but for his under pants. Then he carefully descended the stairs to the river. The steps were slippery with accumulated water and filth. He went up to the river, folded his hands in deep reverence and chanted a hymn in praise of the river. Then he closed his nostrils with the fingers of his right hand so that the water may not go into his nose while he took the dip and entered the water. He experienced ultimate bliss. He picked up water in the hollow of his joined palms and poured it back in to the river as offering to the river. Having finished his undertaking he turned back and ambled up the stairs, ready to meet his nephews and reclaim his bag.

                  When he reached where he had left the bag with the two youngsters, he did not find the bag or the nephews there. He looked around. There was no sign of then. He looked around some more for the two boys without any success. As the time elapsed he became panicky. He had no money and did not even have his clothes. He was shivering with cold in the late afternoon breeze. He saw some people there and asked them where the boys were. But no one could help him because he could not even tell them the names of the boys. He did not know their names. He now had a sneaking feeling that something was amiss. In shear desperation he shouted aloud, “Where are the boys? Where are my nephews? Whose uncle am I?”

                  A person standing close by, teasingly asked, “How do I know? You tell whose uncle you are?”

                  There came a constable. Matai Ram ran up to him and related the story and then put the same question to him, “whose uncle am I?” the constable looked up at him and replied, “Sir, How can I tell you whose uncle you are, if you cannot? And I would say to you that unless you have been duped, which I suspect is the case, you nephews should come back soon.”

                  So Matai Ram sat down on the step of the ghat, in his under pants, quivering with cold, awaiting the return of his nephews.