The Heirs of Circumstances

THE HEIRS OF CIRCUMSTANCES

(A short story)

RAVOORI BHARADWAJA
Translated from the original in Telugu by K. VISWANADHAM
Reader in English, Andhra University

It was past midnight. Darkness like inky rain was dropping noiselessly. There was thick mist too in addition. The street lights were dozing as it were and spraying like dying light. It was the neighbourhood of the market. So, rotten vegetables, and leaves submerged the surroundings in foul stink. There was a narrow lane to the right of the market. All day it wore a deserted appearance; in the night nowhere else was there such rush. Those who pass off as gentlemen in the day make their appearance in the nights in those streets. In their view there was no difference between morality and clothes; when needed, they are put on; otherwise they are hung on a rail. Through the shutters were flowing out low music and laughter and scents. The foot falls of persons walking, with heads bent and veiled, were not audible at a distance. Men of all creeds, of all castes, were among the people. Neither religious wars nor caste conflicts would be there. From such a street came to the front of the market a person at that time of night. There were none there; thick mist was raining. His body was tense with cold; for warmth he rubbed his palms hastily; with those palms he warmed his eyes. But the cold didn’t abate. He gathered the rubbish nearby and lighted it with a match. The rubbish, wet with mist, whined ineffectiveness. He tried another time but it was of no avail. Be cursed the mist, the rubbish and himself; even then the rubbish didn’t pity him; it was obstinate in refusing to burn. Just then there was the sound of movement on the sitting platform in front. He narrowed his eyes to slits and looked in that direction. Some one was coming his side. The first one felt about his waist; the knife with the hilt was, in its place. With courage he was awaiting him. After he neared him, the first one laughed loudly.

The first one addressed the second one: “Are! It is you, idiot? Seeing you, I was a bit afraid. Mistaking you for a policeman I became timid, brother.” The second one said: “Do you know that neither the police, nor God Brahma can come here in the night. If anyone’s Kharmasmoulders and he comes here, he goes phutwith one stroke.” Both of them laughed, snapping their fingers. Both of them together tried to make a fire. The rubbish yielded helplessly to them. It began to burn sizzling and syringing smoke. The air was not playing. So the smoke coiled itself there. Their eyes, irritated by the smoke were closing. Both of them blew on the fire and made it bigger. The fire began gradually to become bigger like profit in business. The light of the fire pushing the darkness in front was creeping weakly on the wet road. In the light of the red fire their faces were appearing fearsome. Light and darkness, like waves, were playing on their faces.

The second one looking at the first one said, “Why are youso, brother? Is it that today nowhere did it profit you? You have made your face droop.”

“I do not know whose face I saw, nothing avails, brother. If not, don’t you know if we will be like this or not?”

The second one said: “Chus! Don’t say so. If you say so, I will never agree to it even on pain of death. What is finding an opportunity, you cranky fool! For you, who will sleep with the doors open? Before they sleep, they look to all things carefully, then doze. Do you think, brother, that committing a theft is an easy game,” throwing some rubbish on the fire.

“Shut up your mouth, you womanfaced bastard! Ore, I am a brainier fellow than you. Day before yesterday in a bus, which was full, I picked a purse in a jiffy? In the front seat was sitting the Inspector, and I showed my drive even when he was there. Gosh! a little over hundred and fifty were mine. For such a situation a fool like you would have irked himself to death there. All days are not ours, you fool! Luck should cooperate with us.….Let it alone…Is there?…Give me a ‘beedi’.

Today it is the same luck .in your house or mine: I have been thinking of asking you…”

“Slicing gourds of lies (bluffing), child, slicing! Ore, I am the son of a slut or Badmash. If you yawn, I can count your intestines. Take out the ‘beedi’ first!

“By my mother! Brother, will I lie for the widowed trifle of a beedi? One of your type...You stole one-fourth of a century and denied a four anna when requested by me for coffee. If it were I, I would have twirled it round and round and flung it in your face. Do you know it?”

“Even up to today you have not given to Suranna the fourteen you have to give. This fellow will twirl it round and round and fling it in the face! What is it you will fling on your soul?”

Has that hollow-faced bitch’s son complained and grieved over it to you? He is indebted to me by four deals. Let him give me mine and take away his. Who wants his filthy fourteen?”

“Of course there is this disease among you gamblers. Not much love lost between one and another. Always dues! Your….come with me, brother. You will better yourself. What is that? Look at that, brother! Who is that coming?” The first one said this, pointing his finger in the direction of the market. Both of them anxiously looked in that direction. Within one-fourth of a minute another individual came there swaying.

“It is you, old fellow! Come, come, old fellow, come. For a time warm yourself,” said the second one.

The old fellow came near the fire saying: “I am coming, babu, for that very purpose. The cold…is biting. Sleep does not come….a burning sensation in the stomach! Hareram! Hareram!” He kept his two hands over the fire and was warming himself.

“Which is your village, grandpa?” asked the thief.

“Babu, ours is far away! Unable to live there, I have come to this country,” said the old fellow shaking with cold.

“Is it going on well with you, grandpa, here,” asked the thief.

“What can I say, babu! If I wander in that manner crying, Hareram! Hareram, it is difficult to obtain a mouthful of food by lunch time. Yesterday and today–I do not know, babu, whose face I have seen–no mother who said ‘Here, old fellow.’ How can I express my anguish?....Sir, Babus, throw towards me a bit of tobacco if you have. You will have punyam(merit). Since morning I have not chewed, babu, even a small bit of tobacco,” said the beggar turning his face towards them both.

The thief said: “Old sir, I haven’t smoked a beedi since a while ago, (and pointing hishand towards the second one) Nil even with him. If available with him, I would have persuaded him to give one to you.”

“Let it be so, babu! Rama does not have pity on me. But what do you do for your livelihood?” spoke the old fellow blowing at the fading flame. The thief looked into the beggar’s face a minute and lowered his face. He felt ashamed of telling him that he lived by thieving. The thief knew that there was no danger to him by telling him so. But still? In some corner his inner soul was telling him that his action was heinous. The thief did not speak. The gambler offered an explanation for the beggar’s question.

“It is the same thing you do, old man! As for you, you beg for a quarter anna, a pie or food. My brother,” spoke the gambler with a knowing laugh, “my brother–without asking for them, he in the nights decamps with hundreds and thousands. That is all, old man!”

“Babu, is it thieving?” the beggar spoke. And after listening to the word the beggar crawled a bit.

The thief’s face fell. If the gambler did not say what he was, he thought it would have been better. But even now nothing had gone beyond one’s security. He could not possibly do anything.

The beggar, saluting God with his folded hands, remarked: “Thieving is sinful, Babu! I say, swearing, though it may anger you. After death in Yama’s world all this sin has to be suffered for.”

The gambler, thrusting some more rubbish into the fire, said: “What you say is truth, old man! When all are sleeping happily, to steal what they earned by toil is deceipt. This widowed baggage of a fellow does not listen to my words. You at least speak to him, old man!” With this observation, the thief’s anger broke bounds. His anger was smouldering since a while against the gambler. He was looking forward to an opportunity. The gambler’s designation of thieving was availed of as a protest. “Shut up, you widow. It is only in gambling if it comes to that, that all deceipt is.” The thief turning towards the beggar asked, “Is not gambling deceipt, grandpa?”

“It is deceipt, babayya, deceipt,” said the beggar fearing that the house would collapse if he said no.

“No,” said the gambler loudly, “we play royally, win if luck favours: lose if unlucky. We are not blind-folding anybody’s eyes. If so, how can it be deceipt?”

“All these things are bad, babus, we have to toil hard. There is nothing in this world to equal toil,” spoke the beggar.

The gambler, not approving of, in the least, the beggar’s argument, said “What have you laid by through toil, old man? These are not the days for a worker. If it comes to that, is not gambling toil, grandpa? Why don’t you speak? Is it not toil?”

“To sit in the shade and play comfortably–is it toil? To describe toil I should mention my profession. One has to leap over walls, make holes, see that no one is in the house, be on the look out if some scamp is spying or not. After all this is done, there is not even a silver plate in somebody’s house. In outward show they are very striking. By the side of my strain what is yours?” enquired the thief of the old man, shaking him by a grip on the shoulder. The beggar was discomposed by that shake. He had to say something. There was no chance of keeping quiet without saying something. On whose behalf to speak? The beggar was torn by this indecision. Luckily a woman approached the fire, dragging her legs, at that time. The face of the woman was a bit depressed. She had a white saree. Some flowers drooped to a side of the head. The beggar saw her and spat with a loud expectoration. The beggar went nearer the fire and said: “You have come even here, you common wife! If one sees your face, one is seized by the five great sins, Hareram, Hareram.”

The gambler enquired, “Why have you come this side? Was there no bargain struck?”

“No, brother-in-law” spoke the woman approaching his , “Having up to now waited and waited, I am coming here.”

The beggar looked at the woman disgusted and said: “Have you no sense of shame? Go away from this place. Avaunt! Why don’t you go?” He lifted up his stick.

The woman said: “Brother-in-law, why did you permit this old man to come here? This fellow’s wife left him and eloped with another. From that time the very word ‘woman’ angers him. All right…..see, my brother-in-law, lend me a rupee. We shall seek privacy.”

The thief laughed loud and having laughed, spoke: “How many brothers-in-law have you, girl? Instead of debasing yourself to every chance-met fellow, why don’t you seek the support of some one and remain faithful to him?” The devil of jealousy in him groaned that way.’

The gambler said, “I gave the same advice, brother. This daughter of a servant did not pay heed to me.”

“That is it. What you said is very fine, babu! Even God will appreciate such a turn,” chimed in the beggar. He never liked the life the woman led. Daily her way of life was open to him. He knew that in a single night she had by turns even four or five men. He heard that even his wife, after abandoning him, followed the same profession. The beggar was directing that ill will against this woman.

“In sooth all men are ass’s sons. If that Suryanarayana were with me, I would not have yielded to another male. As long as he had a job, he was with me. After that he left even
without informing me. What can I do? How can food slip into the stomach? Tell me that,” said the woman and sat near the fire.

The fire was burning slowly. In the meanwhile the thief made a heap of rags, bits of papers, dry plantain leaf bits and rubbish.

“Hareram, Hareram. Rama served you right. It is well deserved. Hareram, Hareram.”

“Senior brother-in-law! What is the mutter of the old fool? Expel him. He whines like a dog always….All right….You at least lend me a rupee….no food for tomorrow. I shall return in two days the amount. Ho, brother-in-law.”

The gambler said, “To purchase a bit of a beedi this diem I do not have money.”

“We are all alike. We are doing prohibited things. Still our stomachs are empty. Fie! Fie! In sooth our lives are miserable lives. Our birth is a cursed birth” observed the woman.

“That is it. Because we do prohibited things, Ramachandra has condemned us to this lot. This is the result of sin in some past life. We are experiencing it now–Hareram, Hareram.”

The fire died down completely. None had any intention of coaxing it. Mist was still dropping. The four were looking at the extinguished heap with their arms on their bent knees. None spoke. A slight breeze faintly animated the ashy heap. In the distance the sound of the policeman’s shoes–thak–thak–was heard. Somewhere a dog’s bark, a train’s whistle. The atmosphere was impressive.

As if breaching that impressiveness the sound of footfalls was gradually approaching. The four looked in that direction. An individual was walking in their very direction. The thief put some rubbish and made fire.

“Babu, babu. You will gain merit. Give me a bit of tobacco for chewing, babu.” The beggar requested of the new comer.

The thief was scrutinizing his bearing carefully. He was examining his pocket. The woman–as was her custom–was trying to attract him. As for him, he was looking at them closely: They were a bit discomposed by his behaviour. They suspected him to be some officer. They were thinking it would be better to get out of his way. Just then, “Why do you look at me so?” spoke the young man, “I am a human like you! Give me too some space; I shall warm myself.”

The beggar remarked: “If so, do you steal or do you gamble?”

The young man laughed softly.

Having laughed, “Old man! I do not do any such thing. But all such people are my friends,” said he.!

“If so, do you employ gumastahs(clerks) to do things, babu? Hareram, Hareram. Today what sort of men have I stumbled across! said the beggar.

The young man said, “Here! Listen to me, old man! Thieving, gambling, fraud–are not really lapses. All those, who do these, do not do them willingly. Their circumstances shape them like that; When their condition becomes better, they live more morally than several of the others!”

All the others, with the exception of the beggar, looked at each other.

The beggar said: “Babu, I am not sure. Living on the proceeds of the sale of the body–in our life it doesn’t get rectified.”He spat in the direction of the woman.

“Old man, you are mistaken,” said the young man laughing, “if you better any thing, there is nothing unimprovable in the world. Many are not aware of this secret. Why go so far? Till recently I was sceptical myself. But after cogitation what I thought in the beginning was proved to be wrong. Into our society we have admitted many such. We gave free food, house and clothing to them. We taught them handicrafts. Now they live decently. We performed the marriages of some. They are leading a life of good domesticity. Why go so far? Tell me about you. You–what do you do here, old man?”

“I beg, babu,” returned the beggar.

“Suppose you have food, a house and clothing. Do you still beg?

“Fie!….Why do I carryon this wretched vocation? It is because of the lack of those necessaries, there are these difficulties for me.”

“You won’t do! Similarly thieves, whores, drunkards, gamblers….why mention a few? People of these sorts slipped into these vocations because of some lack. If these wants are set right, why do they still carry such indecent practices? Hear! I have come on this mission to this village. I stay for two days more here. Old man, let me know all such people among your acquaintances. I shall receive them into the society,” spoke the young man looking at all of them.

The thief enquired, “If the thieves have wife and children, are they too shown some work?”

The young man laughed.

“Yes….To them too we show some support. That is the very work of our society.”

The gambler enquired, “What do you gain from this?”

“We don’t want any other gain. A human living like a human–is all that we seek.”

The beggar salaamed the young man and said: “Tell us where you stay, babu! I shall prostrate myself at your feet. I can’t in future go on begging, babu. Today since morning I haven’t eaten a morsel babu.”

“Old man, there is nothing like a place of stay for me. If needed I shall stay away with you tonight. Look, old man! who are these gentlemen?” he enquired looking at the others.

The thief and the gambler wondered at the respectable words of address he used. They poured out the history of their lives to him. They said that they disliked their vocations. They did these because of the absence of any other opening. They said they would live decently if there was some support. Their manliness hidden in some corner in them felt shy when he pulled them up and showed the business in their lives. They repented of what they did. He assured them of the freedom from fear.

“Who is this?” he asked meaning the woman.

The thief spoke, “Babu, hers is a wretched life. She lives by yielding her body to everyone. See! She is not past 20. She is in pieces already. Babu, admit her too into your society.”

“Pity,” sighed the young man.

From a distance the stroke of three a.m. was heard floating in the air.

“I am very happy for having met you. Unless persons like you completely co-operate with us, our organization cannot prosper. Intimate this further to others. Make them join the organization. See! I wish to hear the story of this person. So tonight I shall remain with her,” spoke the young man pointing to the woman. In the morning you meet me here. You can go. Namaskar.”

“Be it so. Be it so!” said the others.

They two started.

On the way–

“Where do you live?” enquired the young man.

She covered her face with her hands and cried bitterly.

“Don’t cry. Nothing is achieved by crying. Don’t disturb your mind by thinking of bygones. To speak justly, what mistake did you commit? Poverty has forced you into that life. You didn’t deceive any one. You sold yourself in helplessness. This is no mistake. If any one among the thousands, who blame you, stood by you, you would not have resorted to this…In this you are not to blame...Don’t regret...See! Don’t cry like that. I shall find a solution,” spoke the young man. “Where do you live?”

She swallowed her weeping and said, “Come. Let us go.”

Both stepped into the by-lane. From inside the houses were being heard laughter and song still. Some veiling themselves were walking out briskly. Some were bargaining standing in the street. Everything was proceeding noiselessly. None noticed these two. Having gone on and on, they entered at the end of the street a lane. The woman opened with a key an upstair room in a storied house in the corner; it was a small-sized cave. There was only one cot. Under the cot were pots and earthen trays. In a niche were a bottle of oil, comb, mirror, etc. The walls were full of streaks of expectoration of betel juice.

“I have to pay a rent of Rs. 11 for this room. Whether I have anything to eat or not, this is inescapable. If this is delayed by a day, the marwadi will not tolerate. In the town no accommodation is shown to people of my sort,” said the woman.

“What terrible life you lead ?” he spoke, as if weighed down.

There was silence between the two. Outside, the sound of footfalls came as far as the door and stopped. He alerted his ears.  

There was a tap on the door. Immediately, an enquiry, if she was unengaged. She went to the window and said, “No.”

“What is that ?” enquired he, not knowing this.

“Let it go...why do you make me talk further by my very mouth? He came because of old habit,” said she ashamed. “Even if I am prepared for this, I cannot feed my stomach. Today I fasted.”

His face changed grotesquely. He collapsed like one disappointed. Beads of perspiration stood on him. He was thoughtful for quarter of a minute. Then he got up quickly.

Having got up–

“Stay... I shall come again,” he was about to step into his shoes.

“Where to?”

“I shall bring something for you to eat. Let me go….if you are without food like this, do you want me to see and keep quiet? Now...in a quarter of an hour I shall be . I have money.”

“At this time of night no shops are open. I am accustomed to fasting like this. I fasted not because of lack of money. I too have money,” she said removing the lid of the tin in the niche, “Here! Look! There are ten rupees here.”

“Then why didn’t you take your food?”

“Tomorrow the rent has to be paid. If not, the room has to be vacated. Out of Rs. 11, I have collected Rs. 10. If I spend out of this for food, how can I Pay the rent?” she said flinging the tin into the niche.

“What difficulties are you enduring?” said he resting leisurely his on the cot. “All your miseries are at an end by tomorrow. This is your last night in this dirty room, in the midst of these circumstances. Tomorrow by this time you shall be in a room of our organization. Later we shall marry you to a good fellow selected by us. Your life will change into comfort.”
“I shall not marry again!. My gorge rises against marriage. Like this I shall labour and live;” said she looking at the moths alighting on the bed-light mirror.

“What?” spoke he, raising himself on one arm and sitting apart on the cot.”

“I don’t want it. Having done it once, what have I enjoyed for you to ask me to do it a second time?”

“Let it go….A very good fellow….Suppose I say that I will marry you for instance. Will you say ‘no’ to me?” asked he looking at her scrutinizingly.

She too looked at him a moment blankly, “I am not suitable for great ones like you. I don’t come up to the value of the dust of your shoes. Please, don’t talk of me like that,” saying this she bent down to touch his feet. He raised her by her shoulders.

“Don’t say so. There is virtue in raising the unprotected like you. God also will bless. If you have no objection–as soon as we get to our organization–we shall get married. There is nothing surprising in saluting the good. Greatness is in raising the bad to a finer level. What do you say? You like it?” asked he touching her cheek.

She looked into his face a moment and lowered her head. He drew her to him and kissed her….That night she could not sleep well. She floated on sweet thoughts. Was this real? Or a dream? She writhed with that doubt. As soon as she was awake she feared that the sweet dream might crack. She made the fluttering flame brighter and looked at him. He was sleeping by her side free from care. Drops of perspiration dotted his fine face; in the light of the lamp they were glittering. The dishevelled hair slightly dropped on the right eye. The shirt was unbuttoned. The chest was broad and swelling. She developed limitless love for him. She thought that he was not just a man. She thought of him as the giver of new life, as one who would raise her from the abysm and send her to heaven. What is more desirable than this–though at this hour?

She adjusted the buttons. She brushed up the hair. She brought the lamp near his face and looked at him concentratedly. Grief welled like a wave. Fearing that he might be roused by her crying, she swallowed her crying. She lowered the wick. Without pressing him too much, she kissed him softly. She nudged herself beside him and closed her eyes. But she could not sleep. Her self was afloat on the sea of bliss. The beautiful future expanding and glistening with divine lights appeared as if inviting her with a thousand hands. From tomorrow her path would be free from thorny by-paths, and interlaced bushes. There won’t be ‘bitter’ taste in her life from tomorrow. This night was the parting word (Bharatavakya) to a life filled with stench and terrifying heinousness. Tonight would be the prologue (naandi) to a sweet life blossoming with newness and more newness. God himself would have come like this to raise her and thousands of unfortunates like herself. She would marry him. After marrying him she would raise the other fallen creatures, leading the most heinous of lives, like her...

That night sleep did not woo her. She was constricted and suffocated by the impact of thoughts crowding on her like unceasing rain. Till very late–she could not get even a slight nap. When she got up finally and looked around, it was bright dawn bursting in. Slowly opening her eyelids weighed down by the sweet burden of dreams, she looked for the donor on the bed, She massaged her eyes and rose briskly. She looked into the four corners of the room. He was not to be seen. Perhaps he went for coffee. Because she did not eat in the night, he might have gone to bring something or he might have gone to meet the others? She could not decide. Within a short time he would return. By that time she would prepare some tiffin and be ready. For that purpose she went to the niche. The tin in which she kept the ten rupees in the night was empty and stared at her blankly.

“O God!” she exclaimed and collapsed standing. But God did not awake even by that time.