An Astrologers Day and Other Stories Part 13

Iswaran, coming up to see the results ?

Yes, yes, presently. But now I have to be going on an urgent business.

Where ?

Palace Talkies. At this all the boys laughed.

You seem to know your result already. Do you ?

I do. Otherwise do you think I would be celebrating it with a picture ?

What is your number ?

Seven Eight Five, he said, giving the first set of numbers that came to his head. The group pa.s.sed onjoking : We know you are going to get a first-cla.s.s this time.

He sat in a far-off corner in the four-anna cla.s.s.

He looked about : not a single student in the whole theatre. All the students of the town were near the Senate House, waiting for their results. Iswaran felt very unhappy to be the only student in the whole theatre. Somehow fate seemed to have isolated him ISWARAN 85 from his fellow-beings in every respect. He felt very depressed and unhappy. He felt an utter distaste for himself.

Soon the lights went out and the show started a Tamil film with all the known G.o.ds in it. He soon lost himself in the politics and struggles of G.o.ds and G.o.ddesses ; he sat rapt in the vision of a heavenly world which some film director had chosen to present.

This felicity of forgetfulness lasted but half an hour.

Soon the heroine of the story sat on a low branch of a tree in paradise and wouldnt move out of the place.

She sat there singing a song for over half an hour.

This portion tired Iswaran, and now there returned all the old pains and gloom.

Oh, lady, Iswaran appealed.

Dont add to my troubles, please move on. As if she heard this appeal the lady moved off, and brighter things followed. A battle, a deluge, somebody dropping headlong from cloudland, and somebody coming up from the bed of an ocean, a rain of fire, a rain of flowers, people dying, people rising from graves, and so on. All kinds of thrills occurred on that white screen beyond the pall of tobacco smoke.

The continuous babble on and off the screen, music and shouting, the cry of pedlars selling soda, the unrestrained comments of the spectators all this din and commotion helped Iswaran to forget the senate house and student life for a few hours.

The show ended at ten oclock in the night. A crowd was waiting at the gate for the night show.

Iswaran walked across to Ananda Bhavan a restaurant opposite to the Palace Talkies. The proprietor, a genial Bombay man, was a friend of his and cried : Ishwar Sab, the results were announced today. What about yours ?

86 ISWARAN.

I did not write any examination this year, Iswaran said.

Why, why, I thought you did pay your examination fees !

Iswaran laughed.

You are right. I have pa.s.sed my Intermediate just this evening.

Ah, how very good. How clever you must be !

If you pray to Hanuman he will always bring you success. What are you going to do next ?

I will go to a higher cla.s.s, that is all, Iswaran said. He ordered a few t.i.tbits and coffee and rose to go. As he paid his bill and walked out, the hotel proprietor said, Dont leave me out when you are giving a dinner to celebrate your success.

Iswaran again purchased a ticket and went back to the picture. Once more all the strifes and struggles and intrigues of G.o.ds were repeated before him. He was once again lost in it. When he saw on the screen some young men of his age singing as they sported in the waters of some distant heaven, he said Well might you do it, boys. I suppose, you have no examination where you are And he was seized with a longing to belong to that world.

Now the leading lady sat on the low branch of a tree and started singing and Iswaran lost interest in the picture. He looked about for the first time. He noticed, in the semi-darkness, several groups of boys in the hall happy groups. He knew that they must all have seen their results, and come now to celebrate their success. There were at least fifty. He knew that they must be a happy and gay lot, with their lips red with chewing betel leaves. He knew that all ofthem would focus their attention on him the moment lights went up. They would all rag him about his ISWARAN 87 results all the old tedious joking over again, and all the tiresome pose of a desperado. He felt thoroughly sick of the whole business. He would not stand any more of it the mirthful faces of these men of success and their leer. He was certain they would all look on him with the feeling that he had no business to seek the pleasure of a picture on that day.

He moved on to a more obscure corner of the hall.

He looked at the screen, nothing there to cheer him : the leading lady was still there, and he knew she would certainly stay there for the next twenty minutes singing her masterpiece He was overcome with dejection. He rose, silently edged towards the exit, and was out of the theatre in a moment. He felt a loathing for himself after seeing those successful boys.

I am not fit to live. A fellow who cannot pa.s.s an examination This idea developed in his mind a glorious solution to all difficulties. Die and go to a world where there were young men free from examination who sported in lotus pools in paradise.

No bothers, no disgusting Senate House wall to gaze on hopelessly, year after year. This solution suddenly brought him a feeling of relief. He felt lighter.

He walked across to the hotel. The hotel man was about to rise and go to bed.

Saitji, Iswaran said.

Please forgive my troubling you now. Give me a piece of paper and pencil. I have to note down something urgently.

So late as this, said the hotel man and gave him a slip of paper and a pencil stub. Iswaran wrote down a message for his father, folded the slip, and placed it carefully in the inner pocket of his coat.

He returned the pencil and stepped out of the hotel.

He had only the stretch of the Race Course Road, 88 ISWARAN and turning to his right, half the Market Road to traverse, and then Ellaman Street, and then Sarayu.

Its dark swirling waters would close on him and end all his miseries.

I must leave this letter in my coat pocket and remember to leave my coat on the river step, he told himself.

He was soon out of Ellaman Street. His feet ploughed through the sands of the river bank. He came to the river steps, removed his coat briskly, and went down the steps.

Oh, G.o.d, he muttered with folded hands, looking up at his stars.

If I cant pa.s.s an examination even with a tenth attempt, what is the use ofmy living and disgracing the world ?

His feet were in water. He looked over his shoulder at the cl.u.s.ter of university buildings. There was a light burning in the porch ofthe Senate House. It was nearing midnight. It was a quarter of an hours walk.

Why not walk across and take a last Jook at the results board ? In any case he was going to die, and why should he shirk and tremble before the board.

He came out of the water and went up the steps, leaving his coat behind, and he walked across the sand.

Somewhere a time gong struck twelve, stars sparkled overhead, the river flowed on with a murmur ; and miscellaneous night sounds emanated from the bushes on the bank. A cold wind blew on his wet, sand-covered feet. He entered the Senate porch with a defiant heart.

I am in no fear of anything here, he muttered.

The Senate House was deserted, not a sound anywhere.

The whole building was in darkness, except the staircase landing where a large bulb was burning.

And noticeboards hung on the wall.

His heart palpitated as he stood tiptoe to scan the results. By the light of the bulb he scrutinized the ISWARAN 89 numbers. His throat went dry. He looked through the numbers of people who had pa.s.sed in Third-Gla.s.s. His own number was 501. The successful number before him was 498, and after that 703.

So I have a few friends on either side, he said with a forced mirth. He had a wild hope as he approached the senate hall that somehow his number would have found a place in the list of successful candidates. He had speculated how he should feel after that . He would rush home, and demand that they take back all their comments with apologies.

But now after gazing at the noticeboard for quite a while the grim reality of his failure dawned on him, his number was nowhere.

The river he said.

He felt desolate like a condemned man who had a sudden but false promise of reprieve.

The river, Iswaran muttered.

I am going, he told the noticeboard, and moved a few steps.

I havent seen how many have obtained honours. He looked at the noticeboard once again. He gazed at the top columns of the results. First cla.s.ses curiously enough a fellow with number one secured a first-cla.s.s, and six others.

Good fellows, wonder how they manage it !

he said with admiration. His eyes travelled down to second cla.s.ses it was in two lines starting with 98.

There were about fifteen. He looked fixedly at each number before going on to the next. He came to 350, after that 400, and after that 501 and then 600.

Five Nought One in Second-Gla.s.s ! Can it be true ?

he shrieked. He looked at the number again and again. Yes, there it was. He had obtained a second-cla.s.s.

If this is true I shall sit in the B.A.

cla.s.s next month, he shouted. His voice rang through the silent building.