Premchand
In today’s post of the Understanding India series, we have brought a fun and humorous story [ Bade Bhaisahab ] written by the famous storyteller Munshi Premchand. This story will make you laugh, tickle you, and give you a lovely message. Read this story with full attention and enjoy it.
My brother was five years older than me, but only three classes ahead. He too had started studying at the same age as I did, but he did not like to be hasty in matters as important as education. He wanted to lay a strong foundation for this building, on which a grand palace could be built. He would complete one year’s work in two years. Sometimes it would take three years as well. If the foundation itself is not strong, how can the house be stable?
I was young, he was old. I was nine years old, he was fourteen. He had the full and birthright to reprimand and supervise me and my decency lay in considering his orders as law.
He was very studious by nature. He would always sit with a book open and perhaps to give rest to his mind, he would draw pictures of birds, dogs, cats, sometimes on a copy, sometimes on the margins of a book. Sometimes he would write the same name or word or sentence ten to twenty times. Sometimes he would copy a couplet again and again in beautiful handwriting. Sometimes he would create words which had neither any meaning nor any coherence. For example, once I saw this text on his notebook—Special, Amina, brothers-brothers, Actually, brothers-brothers, Radheshyam, Shriyut Radheshyam, for an hour—after this a man’s face was drawn. I tried very hard to find the meaning of this puzzle, but failed. And I did not have the courage to ask him. He was in the ninth class, I was in the fifth. For me, a small mouth, to understand his compositions was a big thing.
I did not feel like studying at all. Sitting with a book for even an hour was a mountain. As soon as I got a chance, I would leave the hostel and come to the field and sometimes throw pebbles, sometimes make paper butterflies fly, and if I found a friend somewhere, then there is no need to ask. Sometimes I climb the wall and jump down, sometimes I ride on the gate, drive it back and forth and enjoy the car, but as soon as I enter the room, I would be terrified to see Bhai Saheb’s furious face.
His first question would be – ‘Where were you?’ He always asked the same question in the same tone and my only answer to this was silence. I don’t know why I never said that I was playing outside. My silence told me that I accepted my crime and Bhai Saheb had no other option but to greet me with words mixed with affection and anger. “If you study English like this, you will keep studying all your life and will not learn a single word. Studying English is no joke that anyone can study it, otherwise, Tom, Dick and Harry would become scholars of English. Here, one has to strain one’s eyes day and night and burn one’s blood, only then one learns this language. And what does one learn, yes, one learns to say it. Even great scholars cannot write pure English, leave alone speaking it. And I say, you are such a fool that you do not learn lessons even after seeing me. I work so hard, you see it with your own eyes, if you do not see, then it is the fault of your eyes, the fault of your intellect. There are so many fairs and shows, have you ever seen me going to see them? Cricket and hockey matches are held every day. I do not come near. I always keep reading. On top of that, I stay in each class for two to three years, then how do you expect that you will pass by wasting time in sports like this? It takes me only two or three years, you will keep rotting in this class all your life. If you have to waste your life like this, then it is better that you go home and play gulli-danda happily. Why are you wasting the hard earned money of grandfather?”
I would start crying after hearing this rebuke. What was the answer? I had committed the crime, who would bear the rebuke? Bhai sahib was adept in the art of preaching. He would say such harsh things, he would use such aphorisms that my heart would be torn into pieces and I would lose courage. I did not find the strength in myself to work so hard and in that despair, I would start thinking for a while- ‘Why should I not go home? Why should I spoil my life by getting involved in work which is beyond my capability. I was willing to remain a fool, but that much hard work would make me dizzy, but after an hour or two, the clouds of despair would burst and I would decide that from now on I would study very diligently. I would quickly make a time-table. How could I start work without making a plan in advance, without preparing a scheme? The idea of sports would completely disappear from the time-table. Get up at six in the morning, wash hands and face, have breakfast, sit down to study. English from six to eight, arithmetic from eight to nine, history from nine to nine-thirty, then food and school. Returning from school at three-thirty, rest for half an hour, geography from four to five, grammar from five to six, half an hour walk in front of the hostel, English composition from six-thirty to seven, then after having food, translation from eight to nine, Hindi from nine to ten, miscellaneous subjects from ten to eleven, then rest.
But making a time-table is one thing, following it is another. I would start ignoring it from the very first day. The pleasant greenery of the field, the light gusts of wind, the jumps of football, the moves of Kabaddi, the speed and agility of volleyball, would pull me there unknowingly and inevitably and as soon as I reached there, I would forget everything. No one would remember that deadly time-table, those eye-straining books and then Bhai Saheb would get an opportunity to admonish and insult me. I would run away from his shadow, try to stay away from his eyes, enter the room in such a way that he would not know. His eyes would turn towards me and I would die. It always felt like a naked sword was hanging over my head. Still, just as a man remains bound in the bondage of attachment and illusion even in the midst of death and calamity, I could not despise sports even after being rebuked and scolded. The two-yearly exams were held. Bhai sahab failed, I passed and came first in the class. There was only a difference of two years between me and him. I felt like criticizing Bhai sahab – ‘Where did your hard work go? Look at me, I was playing happily and I am also first in the class.’ But he was so sad and depressed that I felt sympathy for him and the very thought of rubbing salt on his wounds seemed shameful. Yes, now I felt a little proud of myself and my self-respect also increased. Bhai sahab’s intimidation was no longer there on me. I started participating in sports freely. My heart was strong. If he insults me again, I will clearly say – what have you achieved by burning your blood? I came first in the class while playing. Though I did not have the courage to express this arrogance verbally, it was clear from my behavior that Bhai sahab’s terror was no longer there on me. Bhai sahib sensed this – his innate intelligence was very sharp and one day when I returned at lunch time after spending the entire morning in playing Gulli-Danda, Bhai sahib as if drew out his sword and pounced upon me – I see that you have passed this year and got first position in the class, so you have become smart, but Bhaijan, even the great ones do not have pride, what is your status, you must have read about Ravana in history. What lesson did you learn from his character? Or did you just read like that? Just passing the exam is nothing, the real thing is the development of intelligence. Whatever you read, understand its meaning. Ravana was the master of the world. Such kings are called Chakravarti. Nowadays the empire of the British has expanded a lot, but they cannot be called Chakravarti. Many nations in the world do not accept the supremacy of the British, they are completely independent. Ravana was a Chakravarti king, all the kings of the world used to pay tribute to him. Great gods were his slaves. Even the gods of fire and water were his slaves, but what was his end? Arrogance wiped out his name and trace, there was no one left to give him even a drop of water. Man can commit any evil deed, but he should not be arrogant, he should not boast. He was arrogant and left this world.
You must have read about the condition of Satan too. He was arrogant that there was no one more true devotee of God than him. In the end, what happened was that he was thrown from heaven to hell. Shaherum was also arrogant once. He died begging. You have just passed one class and you have already become arrogant, then you have studied further. Understand that you did not pass by your hard work, a blind man got a quail. But a quail can be caught only once, not again and again. Sometimes in gulli-danda also a blind man hits the target. That does not make anyone a successful player. A successful player is one whose mark does not go blank.
Don’t go if I fail. If you come in my class, you will sweat profusely. When you will have to chew the iron grams of Algebra and Geometry and study the history of England. It is not easy to remember the names of kings. There have been eight Henrys. Do you think it is easy to remember which incident happened during the reign of which Henry? Instead of Henry the seventh, Henry the eighth was written and all the numbers disappeared. Wiped out. You will not find even zero, zero. What are you thinking? There have been dozens of James, dozens of William, millions of Charles. The mind starts spinning. It becomes a storm disease. These unlucky people were not even able to connect names. They kept on adding Doyam, Soyam, Chaharum, Panjum after a single name. If you asked me, I would have told you ten lakh names.
And geometry is just God’s protection. Instead of A B J, A J B was written and all the marks were lost. No one asks these heartless scholars what is the difference between A B J and A J B, and why do you waste the lives of students for such a useless thing. It doesn’t matter whether you eat dal-bhat-roti or bhat-dal-roti, but these examiners don’t care. They only see what is written in the book. They want the students to memorize every letter. And this memorization has been named education. And what is the use of reading these meaningless things?
If you drop the perpendicular on this line, the base will be double the perpendicular. Ask, the purpose of this? Not double, it may become fourfold, or it may remain half, I don’t care, but if you have to pass the exam, you will have to memorize all this nonsense.
I told you to write an essay on ‘punctuality’, which should not be less than four pages long. Now you open your notebook, take pen in your hand and cry for his name. Who doesn’t know that punctuality is a very good thing. It brings discipline in a person’s life, others start loving him and his business prospers, but how can you write four pages on such a small thing? Why should you write something in four pages that can be said in one sentence? I call it foolishness. This is not saving time, but its misuse, that something has been stuffed in vain. We want a person to say whatever he wants to say quickly and go his way. But no, you will have to fill four pages, write in whatever way you want and the pages should be full-fledged. If this is not an atrocity on students, then what is it? The tragedy is that they are told to write in brief. Write a brief essay on punctuality, which should not be less than four pages. Okay. In short, it was four pages, otherwise they would have made you write a hundred or two hundred pages. Run fast and also slowly. This is a strange thing, isn’t it? Even a child can understand this simple thing, but these teachers don’t have even this much manners. They claim that they are teachers. If you come to my class, Lala, you will have to roll all these papads and then you will know the value of flour and pulses. If you have come first in this class, then you do not put your feet on the ground. Therefore, obey me. I have failed a million times, but I am older than you, I have much more experience of the world than you. Take whatever I say to heart, do not regret it.
School time was near, otherwise God knows when this sermon would have ended. Food seemed tasteless to me today. When there is this disdain for passing, then perhaps life will be taken away if you fail. The horrific picture that Bhai Saheb had drawn of the studies of his class frightened me. It is surprising that I did not leave school and run away home, but despite so much disdain, my aversion to books remained the same. I never missed any opportunity to play sports. I also studied, but very little. Just enough to complete the daily task and not have to face humiliation in class. The self-confidence that had developed in me vanished again and I started living like a thief.
Then the annual examination took place and it was a coincidence that I passed again and Bhai Saheb failed again. I did not work very hard, but somehow I came first in the class. I myself was surprised. Bhai Saheb had worked very hard. He had memorized every word of the course, from ten o’clock at night here, from four in the morning there, from six to nine thirty before going to school. His posture had become pale, but the poor fellow had failed. I felt sorry for him. When the result was announced, he cried and I also started crying. The happiness of passing was halved. Had I also failed, Bhai Saheb would not have been so sad, but who can avoid the will of fate!
Now there was only one more class difference between Bhai Saheb and me. A malicious thought arose in my mind that if Bhai Saheb fails for one more year, I will become equal to him, then on what basis will he be able to humiliate me, but I forcibly removed this evil thought from my heart. After all, he scolds me only for my benefit. I do feel unpleasant at that time, but it is probably the effect of his teachings that I keep passing with flying colours and with such good marks.
Now Bhai Saheb had become much softer. Many times, even when he got the opportunity to scold me, he acted with patience. Perhaps now he himself had started to understand that he did not have the right to scold me, or if he had, then it was very little. My independence also increased. I started taking undue advantage of his tolerance. I had such a notion that I will pass anyway, whether I study or not, my destiny is strong, so whatever little studying I used to do out of fear of Bhai Saheb, I stopped that too. I had developed a new hobby of flying kites and now all my time was devoted to kite flying. Still, I respected Bhai Saheb and flew kites without his knowledge. Problems like giving the string, tying the strings, preparing for the kite tournament etc. were now solved secretly. I did not want Bhai Saheb to suspect that his respect and regard had diminished in my eyes.
One day, in the evening, away from the hostel, I was running wildly to pluck a kite. My eyes were towards the sky and my mind was towards that sky-going traveler, who was swinging slowly and moving towards the end, as if a soul was coming out of heaven and was going to receive new sanskars with a detached mind. An entire army of children was running to welcome him with sticks and bamboo sticks. No one was aware of what was happening around him. It was as if everyone was flying with that kite in the sky, where everything is flat, there are no motor cars, no trams, no trains.
Suddenly I came across Bhai Sahib, who was probably returning from the market. He caught my hand there and said in an aggressive tone—Aren’t you ashamed of running with these market boys for a worthless kite? You don’t even care that you are no longer in the lower class, but have come to the eighth class and are only one rank below me. After all, a person should think about his position at least a little.
There was a time when people would become Naib Tehsildars after passing the eighth class. I know so many middle class people who are today first class Deputy Magistrates or Superintendents. So many eighth class people are our leaders and editors of newspapers. Big scholars work under them and you have come to the same eighth class and are running with market boys for a kite. I feel sad at your lack of intelligence. You are intelligent, no doubt about it, but what is the use of that intelligence which kills our self-respect? You must be thinking in your heart that I am just one grade below Bhai Saheb and now he has no right to say anything to me, but this is your mistake. I am five years older than you and even if today you join my class and the examiners are in the same mood, then undoubtedly next year you will be at par with me and maybe after a year you will surpass me, but the difference of five years between you and me cannot be erased even by God, let alone you. I am five years older than you and will always be. You cannot match the experience of the world and life that I have, even if you become MA, D.Phil and D.Litt. Understanding does not come from reading books, it comes from seeing the world. Our mother did not pass any grade, and grandfather probably did not go beyond fifth or sixth class, but even if we both study all the knowledge of the world, mother and grandfather will always have the right to explain and correct us. Not only because they are our parents, but because they have and will have more experience of the world than us. They may not know what kind of government system is there in America, and how many marriages Henry VIII had, and how many stars are there in the sky, but there are thousands of such things about which they have more knowledge than you and me. God forbid, if I fall ill today, you will be very worried. You will not be able to think of anything except telegramming to Dada, but if Dada were in your place, he would not telegram anyone, nor panic or get distraught. First, he will diagnose the disease himself and treat it, if he is not successful in that, then he will call a doctor. Illness is a big thing. We do not even know how to run a month’s expenses. Whatever Dada sends, we spend it in twenty-twenty-two days and become penniless. Breakfast stops, we start avoiding the washerman and the barber, but with half of what you and I are spending today, Dada has lived a major part of his life with honour and respect and has looked after a family in which there were nine people in all. Just look at your headmaster saheb. Is he an MA or not? And not an MA from here, but from Oxford. He gets one thousand rupees; but who takes care of his house? His old mother. Headmaster sahab’s degree became useless after coming here. Earlier he used to take care of the house himself. Expenses were not sufficient. He was always in debt. Since his mother has taken the management in her hands, it is as if Lakshmi has come to the house. So Bhaijaan, remove this pride from your heart that you have come near me and are now independent. You will not be able to go astray in my sight. If you do not listen like this, then I can also use this (showing a slap). I know, you are finding my words poisonous…
I bowed my head in respect to this new trick of his. Today I really felt my smallness and respect for Bhai sahab arose in my heart. I said with tears in my eyes – never. Whatever you are saying is absolutely true and you have the right to say it.
Bhai sahab embraced me and said – I do not forbid kites to fly. I too feel tempted to do so; but what can I do? If I myself go astray, how can I protect you? This duty is also on me.
Coincidentally, at that very moment, a dead koala passed over us. Its string was hanging. A group of boys came running after it. Bhai Sahib is tall. He jumped and caught its string and ran wildly towards the hostel. I was running behind him.