An Astrologers Day and Other Stories Part 32

While he was going back to his seat, he overheard the customer saying : These fellows have become very arrogant nowadays.

Sastri, sitting in his corner, tried to drown his thoughts in figures. He partly succeeded, one part of his mind kept smarting : Some fool comes in, and because of him, I must stand every insult ! Ive served here for twenty years. The customer had finished his work and was going past him, throwing at him a triumphant and contemptuous look. Sastri quickly turned away and gazed at the folio.

Is this man born to torment me ? I dont know who he is !

A blue beam of sunlight strayed in through a coloured window pane and moved up to the ceiling : that meant it was nearing dusk. His boss got up and pa.s.sed out : as the motor-car started down below, the others in the office also rose to go, and filed past the door, all but Sastri and the watchman. The interruption from his boss had cut in so badly that numbers jumped at each others throats, and knotted themselves into hopeless tangles ; which meant he would have to go over immense areas of the ledgers ; he switched on the light and worked till nine. Stretching his cramped fingers, he descended the staircase and was on the road.

I have been called names. I have been insulted by strangers and by my officer, before everyone. Platinum ! Platinum ! Ive served for twenty years for less than fifty rupees a month .

He wondered why he had become so degenerate as not to be able to earn this anywhere else.

Tonight I will not dine without extracting an apology from my boss. Otherwise I shall throw off this work. I dont care what happens . He had in a flash ALL AVOIDABLE TALK 209 a vision of his wife and children starving. It seemed insignificant to him now.

I will somehow manage.

Open a small shop, with a loan or something, and manage somehow. I dont care. Nothing seemed to him important now except redeeming his dignity as an ordinary human being without any reference to his position as an accountant or the head of a family.

He remembered the lead paperweight : that hurt his mind more than anything else. He walked down the tramline, sunk in thought. A tram for Royapetta stopped near him. He checked his impulse to climb into it and go home. He let it go. He sought out the bus for Kilpauk and got into it.

It was nearly ten when he reached the gates of his masters bungalow.

Amber Gardens. The watchman said : So late, Sir !

Yes, Ive to see the master, he replied.

Is he awake ?

Yes, he has just had his dinner and is sitting in the front room .

Half way up, Sastri felt uneasy as he recollected the advice of his friend, Avoid all avoidable talk .

But he could not turn back now. Fate seemed to be holding him by the scruff and propelling him forward.

He stood in the hall. His boss had spread himself on a sofa with a sheet of newspaper before him. Sastri stood hesitating : Avoid all avoidable .

his friends words, drumming themselves through his brain.

Nothing more avoidable than this . he told himself. He wished he could turn back and go away. Better to tackle him in the office It is difficult to talk to a boss in his home.

Before he could make up his mind about it, his boss, turning over a page, observed him standing meekly ; he stared at him for a while and then said : Sastri !

Hm. I see now that you have enough sense to fed 2io ALL AVOIDABLE TALK sorry for your own conduct. I was thinking of you.

If I find you again talking back to me I will dismiss you on the spot, remember. And again, I find you are rude to others too. That man comes asking about platinum setting.

Yes, sir, platinum setting, echoed Sastri.

That was a madman. You saw me with a paperweight in my hand, while he sat before me .

Yes, sir, I noticed it.

But it is none of your concern. Whether mad or sane, whoever it may be, it is your business to answer politely whether it be about platinum, silver, clay, or rag. Everyone in my office should know about every other department. I would have dismissed you for your speech and conduct today. But you have saved yourself now. It is my principle to forgive a fellow who sincerely repents. It is late. You may go now.

I am very grateful to you. Good night, sir, Sastri said, putting extreme politeness in his tone.

While going home he did not feel the tediousness of the way or the hour, for he was quietly gloating over the fact that he had triumphed over his stars that day.

28.

FRUITION AT FORTY.

RAMA Rao obtained his officers permission to absent himself on the following day.

Happy returns, exclaimed his officer.

Honestly, I did not think you were forty !

Walking down the road to the bus stand, Rama Rao paused for a minute to view himself in a large mirror that blocked the entrance to a hair-cutting establishment.

I dont look forty, he told himself and pa.s.sed on.

When he left home he had not known that it was the eve of his birthday. It was while drafting an office note that he realized that the i4th of April was ahead. As a rule they never fussed over birthdays at home, but this was a special event : crossing the fortieth milestone seemed to be an extremely significant affair, which deserved to be marked down with feasting and holiday.

At Parrys Corner he struggled into a bus and hung on to a strap.

Good thing we were monkeys once, he reflected.

Otherwise how could we perform our dinging, and hanging down ; exactly the operations of a monkey, the only difference being that they get on smoothly in a herd while we The conductor had tried to push him out, somebody squeezed his sides and scowled at him, and someone was repeatedly trying to stand on his toes, and the driver was an

212 FRUITION AT FORTY.

to rattle the pa.s.sengers to their bones by stopping and starting with fierce jerks. Rama Rao wriggled through and fought his way out when the bus stopped at Central Station. He walked down to Moore Market for a little shopping. n.o.body at home knew of his birthday. He would surprise them with gifts ; printed silk pieces, coloured ribbons, building blocks, and sweets. It would be such a novelty, giving gifts instead of receiving. He must also buy vegetables and provisions for a modest feast. It was going to be a quiet family party and if the children were disinclined to go to school he would not force them.

He went round the Moore Market corridor, for a preliminary survey.

Shall buy vegetables last, he told himself. He went into a cloth shop and demanded to be shown printed silk and selected three or four bits. The bill was made up. As he scrutinized the items his hand went into his pocket to bring out the purse. It was not in its place. He returned the package. He walked out of Moore Market, rambled aimlessly, his mind all in a boil. He sought a park bench and sat down, trying to recollect when he had last taken out his purse.

Must have brushed against a pick-pocket in the bus, he told himself. He felt depressed. He looked about : a mendicant was sleeping on another bench, some children were gleefully destroying a flower bed.

Some pick-pocket to deprive me of my fortieth birthday !

He felt angry with the perverse fates which messed up and destroyed all ones plans.

People said forty was a mans best age. Every one attained maturity of mind and body. A mans habits were fixed, his prejudices and favours were solidified once for all : and his human relationships were well FRUITION AT FORTY 213 defined and would be free from shocks and surprises.

Rama Rao dwelt on all these fruitions of forty and was filled with misgivings.

What have I achieved at forty ? I have lived sixteen years beyond the point marked by the statistician as the expectation of life for an Indian. I have completed three quarters of the longevity of my elders. What have I achieved ?

He brooded over it and answered.

I have four children, the eldest reads in a college. The wife has all the jewellery she had asked for. I have risen to be the head of my section in the office yet I live only in a rented house. The marriage ofmy daughter and the career of my son will have to be tackled by me within five years. Am I good for it ?

He was filled with consternation at being forty, at the duties that were definitely expected of him because he was supposed to have reached maturity. He beat his brow at this thought. He wondered ifhe had really changed.

He cast his mind back. The earliest birthday he could remember was the one when his father had presented him with a glittering lace cap ; then there was his twentieth birthday soon after his B.A., when he resolved he would not be this or that ; it was a catalogue of

I wont this or that

among them he could only recollect that he had resolved never to marry and never to take up any employment unless they offered him three hundred rupees for a start, some job which would put him on a swivel chair behind a gla.s.s door. And then his thirtieth birthday when he was seized with panic as he realized that he was a father of three. He then believed that things would somehow be clear-cut and settled at forty.

And now here he was. What was it going to be like at fifty or sixty ? Things would remain just the same.

814 FRUITION AT FORTY.

Ifone did not worry about oneselfone started worrying over children and grandchildren. Things did not change. Rama Rao did not feel that the person who was pleased with the gift of a lace cap was in any way different from the one who felt a thrill when the office communicated an increment. The being who felt the home-tutors malicious grip now felt the same emotion when the Officer called him up in a bad temper. Deep within he felt the same anxiety and timidity and he wondered how his wife and children could ever look up to him for support at all.

He suddenly felt that he had not been growing and changing. It was an illusion of his appearance caused by a change of curly hair into grey hair, and by the wearing of longer clothes. This realization brought to his mind a profound relief, and destroyed all notions of years ; at the moment a birthday had no more significance and fixity than lines marked in the air with ones fingers. He decided not to mention to anyone at home that it was his birthday.

As he walked back home his mind was still worried about the purse. After all only twenty rupees and an old purse containing receipts, but his wife would positively get distracted if she heard of the loss. Last time when he could not account for five rupees after a shopping expedition she completely broke down.

She must on no account be told of the present loss.

He would keep her mind free and happy that would be the birthday gift for her keeping away from her the theft of the purse just as the purse itself was a gift to an unknown pick-pocket.

He went home late, since he had to walk all the way.

Held up by unexpected business on the way, he explained. Next morning he went $9 bis pfficc fg FRUITION AT FORTY 215 usual.

Your birthday over ?

asked his chief.

Yes, sir, over earlier than I expected, he explained.