An Astrologers Day and Other Stories Part 14

I will flay alive anyone who

90 ISWARAN.

calls me a fool hereafter he proclaimed. He felt slightly giddy. He leant against the wall. Years of strain and suspense were suddenly relaxed ; and he could hardly bear the force of this release. Blood raced along his veins and heaved and knocked under his skull. He steadied himself with an effort. He softly hummed a tune to himself. He felt he was the sole occupant of the world and its overlord. He thumped his chest and addressed the noticeboard : Know who I am ?

He stroked an imaginary moustache arrogantly, laughed to himself, and asked, Is the horse ready, groom ?

He threw a supercilious side glance at the noticeboard and strutted out like a king. He stood on the last step of the porch and looked for his steed. He waited for a minute and commanded,

Fool, bring the horse nearer. Do you hear ?

The horse was brought nearer. He made a movement as if mounting and whipped his horse into a fury. His voice rang through the dark river side, urging the horse on. He swung his arms and ran along the sands. He shouted at the top of his voice ; Keep off ; the king is coming ; whoever comes his way will be trampled

I have five hundred and one horses, he spoke to the night. The number stuck in his mind and kept coming up again and again. He ran the whole length of the river bank up and down. Somehow this did not satisfy him. Prime Minister, he said.

This horse is no good. Bring me the other five hundred and one horses, they are all in second-cla.s.ses He gave a kick to the horsft which he had been riding and drove it off. Very soon the Prime Minister brought him another horse. He mounted it with dignity, and said, This is better. Now he galloped ISWARAN 91 about on his horse. It was a strange sight. In the dim star light, alone at that hour, making a tap-tap with his tongue to imitate galloping hoofs. With one hand swinging and tugging the reins, and with the other stroking his moustache defiantly he urged the horse on and on until it attained the speed of a storm.

He felt like a conqueror as the air rushed about him.

Soon he crossed the whole stretch of sand. He came to the waters edge, hesitated for a moment and whispered to his horse : Are you afraid of water ?

You must swim across, otherwise I will never pay five nought one rupees for you. He felt the horse make a leap.

Next afternoon his body came up at a spot about a quarter of a mile down the course of the river. Meanwhile some persons had already picked up the coat left on the step, and discovered in the inner pocket the slip of paper with the inscription : My dear father : By the time you see this letter I shall be at the bottom of Sarayu. I dont want to live. Dont worry about me. You have other sons who are not such dunces as I am

12.

THE EVENING GIFT.

HE had a most curious occupation in life. Having failed in every effort he had to accept it with grat.i.tude and enthusiasm ; he received thirty rupees a month for it. He lived on fifteen rupees in a cheap hotel, where he was given a sort of bunk on the loft, with rafters touching his head. He saved fifteen rupees for paying off the family loan in the village incurred over his sisters marriage. He added a rupee or two to his income by filling money order forms and postcards for unlettered villagers, whom he met on the post office veranda. But his main work was very odd. His business consisted in keeping a wealthy drunkard company. This wealthy man wanted some one to check his drink after nine in the evening, and take him home. Sankars physique qualified him for this task.

Dont hesitate to use force on me if necessary, his employer had told him. But it was never done. Sankar did all that he could by persuasion and it was a quite familiar sight at the Oriental Cafe Bar the wrangling going on between the employer and his servant. But Sankar with a margin of five minutes always succeeded in wresting the gentleman from his cups and pushing him into his car. On the following morning he was asked : What time did we reach home last night ?

Nine fifteen, sir

Did you have much trouble ?

9*

THE EVENING GIFT 93.

No, Nine fifteen ! very good, very good. Im glad.

On no account should you let me stay on beyond nine, even if I am in company

Yes, sir.

You may go now, and be sure to be back in the evening in time

That finished his morning duty. He went back to his garret, slept part of the day, loitered about post offices, courts, etc., and returned to work at six oclock.

Come on, said his employer who waited for him on the veranda, and Sankar got into the front seat of the car and they drove off to the Oriental Cafe.

Today he was in a depressed state, he felt sick of his profession, the perpetual cajoling and bullying, the company of a drunkard. He nearly made up his mind to throw up this work and go back to the village.

A nostalgia for his home and people seized him.

I.

dont care what happens, I will get back home and do something else to earn this money. On top of this mood a letter from home : Send a hundred rupees immediately. Last date for mortgage instalment.

Otherwise we shall lose our house He was appalled ! Where could he find the money ?

What was the way out ? He cursed his lot more than ever. He sat for a long time thinking of a way out.

Our good old home ! Let it go if it is to go.

It was their last possession in this world. If it went, his mother, brothers, and his little sister would have to wander about without a roof over their heads.

But could he find a hundred rupees ? What did they mean by putting it off till the last moment? He cursed his lot for being the eldest son of a troubled family.

94 THE EVENING GIFT.

He swung into duty as usual. He held the curtain apart for his master as he entered the cubicle. He pressed a bell. He might be a machine, doing this thing for thirty days in the month for nearly twelve months now. The waiter appeared. No talk was necessary. Sankar nodded. The waiter went away and returned a few minutes later with an unopened flat bottle, a soda, and a gla.s.s tumbler ; placed these on the table and withdrew.

Bring this master a lemon squash, the gentleman said.

No, sir Sankar would reply ; this ritual was repeated every day. Now Sankars business would be to pour out a measure of drink into the tumbler, push it up, and place the soda near at hand, go out on to the veranda, and read a newspaper there (with the flat bottle in his pocket), and stay there till he was called in again to fill the gla.s.s. By about ten to nine the last ounce of drink would be poured out, and Sankar would sit down opposite to his master instead of going out to the veranda. This was a sort of warning bell.

Why do you sit here ? Go to the veranda.

I like this place, sir, and I will sit here.

It is not time for you to come in yet.

Just ten minutes more, sir.

Nonsense. It is just seven oclock.

About two hours ago

You people seem to turn up the clock just as you like let me see how much is left in the bottle Nothing, Sankar said, holding up the bottle.

The last drop was poured out. He held up the bottle and the other became furious at the sight of it.

I think, he said with deep suspicion, there is THE EVENING GIFT 95.

some underhand transaction going on I dont know what you have been doing in the veranda with the bottle Sankar learnt not to answer these charges. As the clock struck nine, he tapped the others shoulder and said,

Please finish your drink and get up, sir What do you mean by it ?

Im not getting up. Who are you to order me ?

Sankar had to be firm.

Look here, dont you be a fool and imagine I am talking in drink. I am dead sober leave me alone Sankar persisted.

I dismiss you today, you are no longer in my service. I dont want a disobedient fool for a companion, get out

Usually Sankar sat through it without replying, and when the drink was finished he gently pulled the other up and led the way to the car, and the other followed, scowling at him with red eyes and abusing him wildly. Today when his employer said,

I dismiss you, get out this minute Sankar replied, How can you dismiss me all of a sudden ! Must I starve ?

No. I will give you four months salary if you get out this moment. Sankar thought over it.

Dont sit there. Make up your mind quickly said his master. One hundred and twenty rupees !

twenty rupees more than the debt. He could leave for his village and give the cash personally to his mother, and leave his future to G.o.d. He brushed aside this vision, shook his head and said : No, sir. You have got to get up now, sir.

Get out of my service

shouted his master. He rang the beU and shouted for the waiter, Get me another

Sankar protested to the waiter.

Get out ofhere