THIS PART WILL COMPLETE THE STORY OF “GADARIA” BY ASHFAQ AHMAD. PART I CAN BE SEEN AT
https://shakilakhtar.wordpress.com/2015/08/11/gadaria-shepherd-by-ashafaq-ahmad/
GADARIA PART II
And I beseech him that he should stop waking me up early in the morning, he might as well kill me.
At this he is horrified and, after covering me with the quilt, left the room.
Bebe had only scorn for Daoji who was in awe of her. She used to sew clothes of local women all day never ceasing to complain about Daoji. I hated this but could do nothing about it.
Daoji would say, “ Son, God forbid, this woman is like the cruel owner of a rest house where you, me and my daughter Qurrat (meaning (apple of the) eye, I called her BIBI) are staying.” And it seemed to be true as she was very dark in complexion with very white teeth. When she walked she looked like the witch spying on innocent people. She did not spare even her own daughter Bibi who would cry for hours after listening to her harsh words. The only person she was good with was her son Ami Chand, perhaps because he resembled me or because he did not love Daoji like did Bibi (Qurrat).
Bibi was good but she was not very friendly with me. She would come up on the roof to collect firewood from the shed, and would see me studying. She would shout from there, “Baoji, he is playing with straw and is not reading”. I would retort, “Why you worry if I do not read, are you the police inspector?”
Daoji would shout from below, “No Golu Molu, do not quarrel with your sister,” and I say, “I am reading, she tells lies.”
My routine was that I left Daoji’s home in the morning and had breakfast at my home. Then I went to school. My mid day meal was sent to school from home. In the evening I would fill my lantern with kerosene and come to Daoji’s home. Evening meal would be sent to me there from my home.
Daoji was a scribe in the local court where he would spend time and would wait for work which was not much. Occasionally he would earn 2 or 4 rupees otherwise he kept himself busy reading books. When he was free he would come to my school at the closing time and walk me to my home, bombarding me with his incessant questions on the way. On the other hand, Bebe had a good business sewing clothes. One reason she was so harsh with Daoji could be that, for some years, most of the household expenses were met by income from her sewing.
Once I surprised Daoji and went to the court to fetch him. The court had closed and Dao Ji was having tea on a tea stall. I gathered his things and said, “Come, Daoji I will walk you to your home today. He paid an “anna” to the tall keeper and started walking with me silently. I said, with mischief in the eyes, “I am going to tell Bebe that you drink tea here.” He said, “He makes tea with jaggery instead of sugar and it is very tasty and is good for health. And he charges only an anna for a full glass. Please do not tell your Bebe or she would create a nasty scene.” I felt sorry for him and promised not to say a word. When I mentioned this episode to my mother, she started sending to Daoji’s home milk, fruit, sugar etc occasionally. But Daoji never got to use any of these. Though it made Bibi change her attitude towards me a little.
I remember the day when I arrived at Baoji’s home with a can of milk and Bebe was not at home. She had gone to the nearby pond to have a body wash with her women folk. Daoji was enthusiastic at the sight of milk and decided to make tea. He told Bibi to start a fire and went outside to buy some jaggery. When the fire was ready he said he would make tea himself. As the water came to boil, he added the tea leaves. He was very happy watching bubbling water and was singing golu molu with delight. We three had a happy hour and it looked like the happiness had visited our little home. The main door opened and Bebe appeared and saw what was happening. When he saw her, all the colour on his face faded. She saw the boiling tea steaming on the fire and that the old fool was caught playing the forbidden game. As he brought his form to standing he said weakly, “It is tea”.
Bebe struck Baoji at his back with her hand and started a shrill monologue. “You old fool, you shameless scoundrel, who drinks tea at your age? You saw the field was clear when I wasn’t around and you felt no fear. You wish I die so you will do as you will. I might as well die. Oh, what dirty creature birthed you and what cursed fate that I was married to you. Oh why death does not reach you”, She reached and removed the hot pot from the fire with the help of a piece of cloth and threw it on the ground. Hot tea splashed in all directions and before he dragged himself away, some found his feet and ankles. He hurried away from there with cries of,” Oh you be blessed, oh you be blessed” and entered the front room. The way he retreated brought spontaneous laughter from me and Bibi and it could be heard around the entire courtyard. Bebe ignored me but turned to Bibi and caught her by her locks. “You are good at playing the second wife of the old fool. Why did you give him the key to the cupboard”. Bibi began crying and I made myself scarce and entered the front room.
Daoji was on his favourite chair, caressing his feet. I found all this funny again and could not curb my laughter. He beckoned me to come near him and said, “I am meaner than the dog of the ONE on whose holy head an unfortunate old woman in Mecca used to throw rubbish”. When he saw I was surprised, [because he was a Hindu] he continued, “If I, a member of the circle of my great teacher, complain on receiving hot water on my feet, I might as well be cursed. May He save me from the hell fire in the name of His Beloved, May the God of Abraham give me strength, may the God of Jacob grant me patience”.
I asked, “Who was your great Teacher?”
He was my teacher and mentor. He was your grand dad-teacher.
Daoji narrated how he found his teacher and took a long time relating his story as he would from time to time go in to trance with reverence written all over him or would recite several couplets of Persian poetry (praising the Prophet) at every turn; After he had finished I asked, “Daoji why you revere your teacher so profoundly and why you call yourself his servant?”
He answered, “The one who changed a donkey into some one whom people say, ‘This is Munshi Chant Ram’, wouldn’t he be my saviour or my lord?
“What a change in me that has occurred”, he said. The first voice of my Learned one still echoes in my head. He called, “O son of the animal keepers, come to me”. I came with my staff hitting ground at every step. Several boys from nearby villages were sitting in front of him in a semicircle, reading lessons with eyes cast down. He said, “I see you tending your goats every day, why don’t you leave them to themselves and sit here and learn something.” Then he continued, “what is your name?,”
“Chintu”, I replied like a yokel. He guessed, and correctly, “Is it Chant Ram?, yes it must be” The students were looking at me with squint eyes. I had a raw cotton garb on, with only a loin cloth for trousers, and a pair of dry leather shoes on my feet, a red piece of ordinary cloth wrapped on my head.
I cut in,” So you were a shepherd?”
“Yes, and My father had 12 goats”.
I was stunned, and with gaping mouth I hazarded, “So you were grazing goats near a school”
“No son, there were no schools even in the cities in those days. 74 years before who knew your M. B. High School? Actually, my Lord loved teaching poor folks and he gathered children around his home and taught.”
“He was from a very learned back ground. His whole household was well versed in Persian and in matters of religion. His father was the only hakim (medicine man) in the entire district, and was a preacher. His great grand father was Head clerk for Maharaja of Kashmir.”
“So you started schooling with him. “ I said, fearing he would go away from main tale.
“Yes I started immediately. I threw my staff on ground and squatted near him. He said, no, come on the mat and sit with others.”
I said, “Sir, for 18 years I have been sitting on the ground and comfortably.”
He sort of accepted my humility and gave me a booklet with alphabets, and asked me to repeat: alif, be, pe te ……..” His voice was like silk and was very loving.
“What was his name”, I asked
“He was known as Ismail Chishti (may Allah have mercy on him)”
As I was enjoying the tale, suddenly he said,” What was Subsidiary (Alliance) System.”
Woe to the English, they come as East India Company or as the bearer of Queen Victoria’s Order, they always manage to bring chaos in our ‘system’. I related the entire provisions of The Subsidiary System like I would the times table of one and a quarter. Then he ordered me to go out and find out if Bebe’s rage had subsided. I went out with the pretext of filling my ink pot with little water, and saw that Bebe was busy with her (sewing) machine and Bibi was cleaning the kitchen.
The chapter of Bebe in Daoji’s life was very weak. When he noticed that the atmosphere was good, he would ask us to recite a couplet each and when Bebe couldn’t, would ask her to sing the folk song concerning one’s son’s marriage. She would try to smile but couldn’t and Baoji would then sing it himself, like a woman would, inserting my name and that of Ami Chand as the ‘son’. He declared that he would wear red turban at my marriage and would sign on the marriage contract as a witness. He would declare that he would teach his ‘daughter in law’ to read Persian and to write Nastaleeq.
On one such a day when he was dreaming my marriage and my would be wife, he said, “God the Great would find a good and believer type wife for my Ami Chand also, just like He would find a pious wife for you who would be obedient to me. My Ami Chand has gone astray, what with his learning the martial art of lathi (long staff) and of jugat (hand fight), or attending meetings of (fundamentalist Hindu) Sewa Sangh (The Serving Party). I wish that he get a loving wife who might bring him back to normal behaviour.
I kept quiet at the mention of a ‘believer’ wife for Ami Chand because my remark could hurt him,
The marriages of me and of Ami Chand remained just wishful thinking, but one day a group of people did come for Bibi in a procession. Baoji had told me on several occasions that the bride groom Ram Pratap was a good boy and his name passed the test of stekhara (a method of testing important decisions by Quran). He was most impressed by the fact that his opposite, groom’s father, was a professor of Persian.
On the evening of the 12 th of the month, when Bibi was to say good bye, the whole house was charged with emotions. Bebe was crying buckets of tears, Ami Chand had his eyes full too; the local women showed proper behavior that was required of them at this moment and contributed to the chaos by making wailing noises. I was standing by a wall and Baoji stood by me with his hands on my shoulder. He is saying, “Today, I find that my feet scarce get hold on the ground”.
The father of the groom said. “Munshi ji, please allow us to leave”.
At this Bibi started wailing and all but fainted. She was made to stretch on a cot, women surrounded it and were fanning her with their loose portions of saries. Baoji moved to the cot making me a support. He addressed his daughter as Qurrat and asked not to ruin this important moment in her life. Then he said he will always repent that he could not give his daughter a good education, at which his opposite said that he would teach her.
The procession consisted of tangas and ikkas (both horse driven carts) and the bride rode with her women companions in a rath (pulled by oxen). And they left.
Rano was a very bad man in our locality. He had a pen containing 20 or 25 goats and 2 cows. He sold milk morning and evening. He had a habit of teasing Daoji every time he passed his house by hitting hard his lathi on the ground and shouting in mock style, “O Pundit, long live Ram”. Daoji would explain to him that he was no Pundit as a Pundit has to be a learned person and he was not. Rano would say why, any one with a chutiya (tuft of hair on head, or scalplock) is a Pundit. He was sort of a bully and had meetings in his premises in the evening in which other vagabonds would sing dirty songs or would gamble.
After Bibi was married, I one day went to him to buy milk. He asked, with mischief, “Now that the main attraction is gone, why you still go to that house? Tell me, there was a river (of easy sex) flowing, did you take a dip?” I god mad and hit him on the head with the can I brought for milk. He was down with pain and I ran to my home and related the incident to my father. Rano was summoned at the police station but he got free after a little scolding and stern warning. After this he became even more aggressive with Baoji and he used to ridicule his chutia the most. Baoji revered this part of his head because he said it was his mother’s favourite. In his childhood, his mother would use curd to clean it, followed by mustard oil.
He said, “When I came back to the village after serving as a teacher in the city for one year, Great Teacher asked me if I had done away with my chutiya and when I said no, he said that I was the most obedient son of my mother”. When I would touch his feet in reverence, he would say, “what is the use, since I cannot feel your touch. (He was paralyzed from back down)”, “I used to give him a ride on my back and show him entire village from time to time and he would give lots of blessings. When I recited before him SIKANDAR NAMA (Tale of Alexander the Great in Persian), he was too happy and rewarded me with one rupee. He added after lot of praise that I had the same profession as that of Moses, and that I was a follower of the Lord of Medina, that is why I am blessed by God the most merciful.”
As my exams were nearing, Daoji became more and more stern and would not let a moment pass by without giving me instructions, When I would go to the water pitchers more to have some respite than to drink, he would follow me with his incessant questions. He started coming to school at the closing time to fetch me every day. After the day I sneaked from the back door; he started waiting for me just outside my class room. I became extremely irritated at his method of “teaching” and would resort to even calling him names, including “dog”. He never bothered and would scold me with loving voice calling me golu etc.
One cold night when I was on the verge of abandoning all effort to succeed in the studies, because there was a problem I could not solve try as hard as I could, and I was crying sitting on the stairs, Dao Ji came to me wrapped in a blanket and related his own predicament on the difficulties of learning. He told how he would spend hours, even days solving one problem and one day when he approached his great teacher looking for help he was told that the solution was beyond him too and that it was time he would need to consult a better teacher who lived in Delhi. He would give him his address only after he gets permission from his mother to go to Delhi.
“Knowing that my mother would never agree, I stole from her box 2 rupees, leaving 2 for her, and left the village in the dead of night. (God forbid me for this crime), In those days a railway line was being laid between Lahore and Delhi. This gave me direction to Delhi as well as work. I would work for a day or two as a labourer and then walk for days. I reached Delhi in 16 days and with great difficulty found out the residence of the Teacher my great teacher had talked about. (Hakeem) Nasir Ali Seestani was very famous and was also blind. He had already received a letter from my teacher about my disappearance and about the possibility of my appearing at his house. He received me with love. He would use his bare back for a paper and ask me to use my finger for a pen drawing invisible lines for geometrical propositions. Then guide me step by step till the solution is obtained. I was much confused in the beginning but later on I became accustomed to his method.”
Dao Ji continued, “I stayed with him for one year and, after some learning, returned home. I went straight to my great teacher and, leaving my head on his feet, asked for his forgiveness. He said if he had strength he would withdraw his feet, I cried at this and he said he forgave me.”
Dao ji was very concerned about me gaining weight. One early morning he dragged me from bed and took me forcefully for a long walk. The streets were very cold and very dark. We arrived far outside the village to a mound which was reputed to be remnants of a city sunk with its residents long long ago and that the dead souls still hover around there. No body ventured there even during the day. He showed me two bushes a hundred metres apart and ordered me to go and run between them 10 times. I went and sat for a while then ran slowly about 4 times and returned, thinking the time I spent would be like I ran all 10. I found Daoji on his knees, as if he was possessed, howling and shouting various ayats of the Quran and talking and all the time throwing his hands palm down on the ground only to lift them up high over his head and down again. I was terrified and thought Daoji had tamed Jinns with whom he was having conversation.
Soon he was normal and, noticing me crying nearby, he said, “Lets go”.
After that day I never went to walk with him.
Not long after that walk we started receiving at odd hours, from outside, pieces of bricks or lumps of earth. Bay Bay was convinced that these were thrown by Jinns who were angry at Daoji. She became mad and like a bitch who has birthed puppies, man handled Daoji and screamed insults. She was of the opinion he was trying to kill her and Ami Chand. Dao ji said Jinns do not exist and that they being non matter cannot make matter move.
In the evening when I was coming from my home Rano met me and asked sarcastically if I got hurt, as he heard there were stones coming in Daoji’s home. I never wanted to have any thing to do with him and so I left. I was thinking how he knew?
We had a High School in our village but the Examination Centre was in the nearby city. I went there with the rest of the class, and Daoji followed and gave me instructions right to the end.
After the examination I abandoned Dao Ji like I never knew him.
While waiting for the result, my day time was spent with friends and in the night I read story books. Occasionally I did find time to go to Daoji to say hello and he pressed me to continue coming regularly for preparation for my college studies. I was allergic to him and his methods after a year of his torture and was not prepared even to consider. When the result came, my father took me to Daoji accompanied by a hamper containing sweet meats. He and myself were happy with the result but Daoji was sad. He said he expected a first division. I said I missed it by just one mark. Still, Daoji said, either there was something to improve in his teaching or my base was weak to start with.
I got admission in the college in the city. In the beginning I replied to Daoji’s letters from hostel but gradually stopped.
I was in second year when the country came close to get independence. There was a lot of commotion, riots and fights. There were news coming from all directions of riots and mother called all of us to come home as it was relatively safe here in our village. All the (Hindu) baniyas (shop keepers) and money lenders fled. Soon shelter seekers (muslim displaced persons) from the other side started arriving. They brought the news that the independence had been achieved. One day few houses in our village too were put on fire and there was trouble. A curfew was imposed and when it was relaxed all the Hindus and Sikhs left. Mom sent me to check on Daoji and when I went, I found there was an ox tethered at the gate, the door had a curtain made from old sacs. I reported that Daoji had left.
After a few days, long after sunset, I was returning from the mosque where new arrivals of shelter seekers (muhajirs) were staying, and where I determined how many blankets were to be sent from relief camp, I noticed a huge crowd near Dao ji’s house. The muhajir boys were brandishing long staffs and were shouting. I tried to penetrate the press of the people but failed.
One was saying to an aged person, “He had gone to a nearby village, and when he returned, he entered his house as if it was his own?”
“Which house,”
“The one the muhajirs of Rohtak have acquired”
“Then what happened?”
“Obviously they caught him, and when examined, he was found to be a Hindu!”
Some one called,’ O Rano, come quick, it is your victim, The Pandit!”
Rano left his goats, that he was taking to the pen, in the keep of a boy, and entered the crowd.
Some how I fathomed that they have caught Dao ji. I said to no one in particular,” He is and old man. He is a good man. Leave him.”
One boy remarked, “So you are on his side! You don’t know what we have endured on the way. Shall we give you the same treatment…? Shall we”
Some one remarked, “He seems to be a local”
Terrified, I quickly moved to a different part of the crowd.
Rano and some of his companions had gathered around Daoji and were interrogating him. “Oh, now what you have to say, scoundrel?” Dao ji was silent, eyes down.
One removed his turban and said, “Let us crop his chutiya! (scalplock)”
Rano promptly cut his hair tuft that he had saved for all his years.
The same boy now wanted to kill him. Rano said, “No, he is old. He will be my help in tending my goats”.
Rano said, “O Pandit, now you have to recite THE SENTENCE” {Kalima, that converts one to a muslim after reciting it}
He did.
At this Rano handed him his staff and said, “Let us go, the goats are waiting for you”
The bare headed Daoji walked towards the goats like an expert shepherd.