Crazy Woman & Other Short Stories

By Dr. Sitesh Alok

The stories presented in this collection were written originally in Hindi, way back 20-25 years ago, and published in major Hindi journals of those times - Dharmyug, Saptahik Hindustan, Sarika, Kadambini et al. They were liked by the readers and translated into several Indian languages, too, besides being included in some of the selected works of the year. Later they were picked up by some friends for translation into English and, subsequently, found place in some major English literary journals - Indian Literature, The Statesman, National Herald, The Heritage and the like. Free from all tall talk, most of these short stories tell the tales of joys and merriments, torments and trepidations and the dreams and realities of common people.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Diamond Books
• Release date: Dec 21, 2023
• ISBN: 9789356848184

Book preview

1

CAT

Iwas greatly surprised by the sudden arrival of a brief letter from Bansi babu after years of silence. Something urgent must have cropped up to drive him into procuring my address from somewhere. And his letter indicated that my guess was right. I am in great trouble, he wrote, and I need to meet you urgently.

Well, that’s life. Troubles come unannounced, to one and all. But how, of all people, could I be of any help to him — I, an ordinary, middle-class railway employee…, just a ticket-checker with far more serious liabilities than I could manage to handle on my meagre salary!

Bansibabu’s problems started flashing through my mind in all possible forms. Maybe he was ill… or had he met with some accident? Perhaps something relating to his daughter’s marriage? Well, I had no younger brother of marriageable age. Besides, he was a diehard Brahmin, whereas I…! Could it be some acute financial problem? But then he was much better off than me, with his house, his salary and his ‘extra’ income. What could it be?

This question continued to bother me until I called on him.

I met Bansibabu soon after I had taken up a job. In fact, it was Bansibabu who initiated me into my new position. After we had joined work, we had to sit around like orphans for several days, waiting for our posting orders.

After the deathly uncertainty of over a fortnight, we were suddenly directed to proceed for our training. For this purpose, we were split into groups of four, each headed by a senior ticket collector. It was in this connection that I first became acquainted with Bansibabu. And from the moment he met us, he made it clear that whatever we had received by way of an education was of no value whatsoever.

Ticket… you understand what that means? Bansibabu tossed that question at us even before we had introduced ourselves. We stared at him, dumbfounded.

Now, imagine, you don’t even know that! He scoffed in a way that made us want to send him to hell. I suppressed a smirk with some difficulty. But I had to be careful. Suppose his report against me stood in the way of my being confirmed in my job? I couldn’t bear to think of travelling down the dark road of degree holders yet again.

Bansibabu looked deep into our eyes, "Now, you may want to flash your EmmAy degrees at me. But everyone knows that real education disappeared with our time. An EmmAy degree-holder today couldn’t even dare to compare with a matriculate of our times."

Sharma, Khanna, Chander and I stared at him, stupefied, occasionally casting sidelong glances at each other.

Look, let me tell you right away that your days of fun and games are over… Bansibabu warned, initiating us into the realities of a new era. It was obvious from the way he rambled on, that he had nothing of value to convey to us. Had it not been for our apprehension that we might lose our jobs, we wouldn’t have taken such nonsense from him so quietly. And well… he knew it too.

You’ll really have to slog now. Checking tickets is an act of responsibility. The entire railway network rests on the strength of the ticket.

My eyes took in the details of the person who imagined himself to be a superman. I hadn’t known what the word ‘wily’ actually meant, but looking at Bansibabu’s mean little eyes, I figured it out. The wrinkles on his fiftyish face arranged and rearranged themselves as he lectured us. The Hitler-moustache lent a new dimension to his features which included a dirty and uneven line of teeth marked by a history of betel-chewing, tobacco-chewing, smoking and total abstinence from brushing or cleaning.

Why do you keep staring at me like an imbecile? He suddenly asked, catching me unawares. Fortunately, he got distracted by discovering that he didn’t have match box to light his beedi.

Do you have a lighter? He asked suddenly in a gentler tone. I told him I didn’t smoke.

That made him explode. Don’t smoke?! He exclaimed belligerently. Then go to the Himalayas and live with the ascetics!

By then, Chander had struck a match stick and was holding it to Bansibabu’s beedi. Inhaling with a sucking action, the man puffed out the smoke right onto my face.

That’s a smart guy, he declared, indicating Chander, Mark my words. He’ll make it. As for you, you’d better head for the Himalayas. Forget about a career.

I wasn’t sure what kept me quiet - my humble breeding… or the fear of joining the tags of the unemployed, again. But, for one fleeting moment, I imagined Bansibabu’s stained teeth bleeding.

Well, anyway, treat us to tea, he commanded, changing the subject. Really, you blokes have no sense at all! Here I am dispensing advice and you can’t even offer me some tea to soothe my parched throat? Or… are you expecting to be taught the tricks of the trade for free?

On the way to the canteen, my hand kept groping within my pocket to gauge how much cash I had. When the bearer arrived, Bansibabu ordered an omelette and mutton cutlets for himself. I felt the urgent need to look at the menu, just to assess the financial implications of the order he had placed. My friends had, meanwhile, started opening up with him. Chander offered him a cigarette.

Reverend Sir… Chander began obsequiously, as he handed Bansibabu a lighted match.

Well, come on, ask what you wish to, Bansibabu said in a lordly manner. Now that you have shown me due respect, ask away.

This ticket business is fine, Chander conceded. But do tell us something about making that extra buck.

Son of a bitch! He retorted. You’ve just joined today and you… Well, you are smart, aren’t you? His eyes glittered like a hawk’s.

When Khanna insisted on paying the bill, I felt relieved. Shaking his head meaningfully, Bansibabu looked me in the eye. You’re lucky you managed to escape today, he said, but you won’t be able to get away with it forever! Learn to spend freely, man! You can’t carry your wealth with you to the other world!

Staring at his discoloured teeth, I felt nauseated.

Bansibabu was at home. Dressed in striped underpants, he lay on an old cot in the courtyard, smoking a beedi. His right ankle rested on his raised left knee. In response to my greeting, he took a long puff; fixing his eyes on my face.

So… you could find the time to make an appearance, after all? He remarked. Standing nearby, I waited for him to offer me a place to sit.

Yes, he continued in the same vein, people think no end of themselves these days - a sign of the times. Exerting himself a little, he made room for me to sit on the bar of his cot.

Who has time for the elderly these days? He said, in a tone sarcastic. And yet, he continued, this is the country where people laid down their lives for their teachers and, like Eklavya, thought nothing of chopping off his thumb for them. But nowadays, even if your bloody mentor is dying, you don’t have to think to spare some time for him!

This outburst proved just one thing: Bansibabu couldn’t help being himself, whether on duty in his railway uniform or relaxing at home in his underpants. Once the tirade was over, he brought up the subject that had been bothering him. A complaint had, apparently, been registered against him for accepting bribes, and the authorities had decided to take action. He had been suspended and there was, in all likelihood, no hope of a pardon.

That bastard won’t listen… may plague take him! Bansibabu ranted, What was new about it? Just a routine affair. It’s impossible to tell who has access to the authorities and who doesn’t. And anyway, what was his problem? He didn’t have to pay the money! Why people need to poke their noses into other people’s affairs is quite beyond me. As soon as he reaches his destination, the fellow shoots off a letter here and a complaint there, and God knows what else! He even reported the matter to the press and sent copies to the Railway Minister. And you know jolly well that these silly ministers hardly have any work to do. All that chap did was lodge a complaint, and the Department pounced on me and issued the suspension order!

I was at a loss for words, wondering what I could do about it.

Suddenly, his tone became earnest. Listen, you are the only one who can help me in this matter.

I looked at him, open-mouthed with astonishment. Bansibabu continued, You know, that bastard is an Agarwal….

Who? I asked.

The fool who has lodged the complaint against me, who else? Just convince him that he won’t gain much by harassing an old gentleman. If, on the other hand, he withdraws his complaint, he can earn a few hundred.

But I, I… I stammered.

You are a Gupta, aren’t you? He continued relentlessly, he must be related to you.

But all Guptas and Agarwals are not necessarily…

Bansibabu cut me short. Now, don’t make excuses. Tell me straight away if you don’t want to help someone in need, he said, becoming serious. "Who says Guptas and Agarwals are not related? When I was stationed at Bijnor, there used to be one Gupta ji. And then one Mittal arrived. In no time, it was known that they were closely related."

It was becoming increasingly clear that any argument with him was futile. I was astonished at his audacity in asking me for a favour. At the same time, his past behaviour flashed through my mind.

What if someone reports…? I began diffidently.

To hell with…! Bansibabu jerked his head defiantly.

Even so, I feel a bit apprehensive…

You son of a… you… coward! You’ll never do a thing for anyone! He declared.

I swallowed the abuses that promptly came to the tip of my tongue. Despite my long and bitter association with him, I could not call him names in retaliation. Seeing me quiet, he started explaining in a patronising tone that few people would have all the time in the world to run around lodging a complaint about such a trivial thing. And even if someone did, he would be caught himself. For wasn’t offering a bribe just as much a crime as accepting it? Besides, what proof was there? I’ll deny everything, he declared. No blighter can ever raise a finger against me!

Once, on a similar occasion, Chander had asked him, What if someone lodges a complaint?

Bansibabu had replied with a wink, I too have ways of working around that.

Like what? Chander had asked.

If I give away everything at one go, you ass, who would look at me again? The cat will divulge all her tricks, but one.

He insisted me to have a cup of tea. That was the first occasion when he had offered me tea. As I rose to leave, he reminded me cheerless that I should do my best to extricate him from the situation. For all his bluster, he had the air of a neglected cat curled up in the corner of the cot.

I bumped into Khanna at the railway station. Hearing of Bansibabu’s antics, he burst out laughing. So, the old man had summoned you, too, had he? Nowadays, he seems bent on propitiating all the Gods, big or small. But from what I hear, he doesn’t stand a chance.

Through him, I got to know the whole story. Bansibabu had, it seems, allowed dozens of ticketless passengers to travel by accepting bribes from them. When one of the passengers protested, Bansibabu snubbed him. I’ve seen hundreds like you since I started working in this profession… and I always manage to turn the tables on anyone who tries to mess with me.

Unfortunately for him, that ‘someone’ happened to know people in high places. He not only reported the matter to the station master and the superintendent but also sent copies of his complaint to the minister and the press. Bansibabu ran from pillar to post to get it hushed up and even spent a lot of money, but nothing worked. Things had gone too far. He went out of his way to find out the plaintiff’s address and approached him with an apology and a plea to withdraw the case, but the man refused to relent.

To tell the truth, I did think that Bansibabu deserved what was coming to him. But my conscience would not allow me to be that heartless. So, I talked to the people I knew and discussed the prospects of saving his neck. But, given the limitations of my resources, experience and approach, there wasn’t much I could do. The last resort was to persuade the plaintiff to withdraw the complaint so that the file could be closed. But how could one manage that?

Suddenly, one fine morning, I came to know that the charges against Bansibabu had been withdrawn. I greeted the news with mixed feelings. Someone suggested that we call on him to find out how he managed it.

Loud guffaws emanated from the house when we reached it. Bansibabu was back in his Railway uniform. A couple of his colleagues were with him. Seeing us, he ran the fingers of his right hand from his shoulder to his waist with a triumphant flourish. Look! He said, "the same uniform. And you silly kids imagined that without your help, poor old Bansibabu would be reduced to begging on the streets. In an attempt to save face, I let my features stretch in an inane smile. Khanna butted in to save the situation. Hat’s off to you, Sir!… But tell us the whole story. What card did you play? How much money did you have to dole out?" His eloquence matched Bansibabu’s.

I’m a veteran, my boy. Others get thrown behind bars, every day… boasted the grand old man with his usual confidence.

That fellow withdrew his complaint, explained Sharma ji who had heard the whole story by the time we got there.

But how…? The words slipped out of my mouth quite inadvertently.

"Oh, well. You know he was just a Bania… They’re such cowards," Bansibabu said, blithely slandering an entire community. How long could he hold out against me?

That’s fine, Boss, Khanna said, but do tell us what means you employed to get your way! If, God forbid, we fall into a similar trap; we’ll know exactly how to extricate ourselves from the situation. And, of course, we’ll sing your praises!

Just then, a girl, about five years old, entered the room carrying water tumblers in both hands. Bansibabu pointed to her. That was my trump card. She was the means to my salvation.

We stared at the child, flummoxed.

How on earth…? began Sharmaji.

Oh, she was just the means. Finally, it was I who engineered the whole thing! said Bansibabu proudly, reclining in his chair. Let me tell you the whole story. When that bastard who had complained about me refused to accept a bribe, I realised that here was a man of integrity. These types usually suffer from the disease called altruism… and one can get around them by pandering to this vulnerable point in their personalities. So, I took my daughter to him and put her at his mercy. Bansibabu seized the child by the arm and threw her on the floor to demonstrate how he had gone about the whole thing. The girl lay there, quivering.

I brought real tears to my eyes and beseeched him to spare me. I told him that if I lost my job, my family would die of starvation. And rather than endure that, I would prefer it if he killed my daughter. How well I played my role! I ought to have been on stage! The bloody fool got taken in! We were all ears. The girl quietly got up from the floor and walked off, as though in a daze.

Well, it was all over in a matter of minutes. The bastard was so moved by my performance, he withdrew all charges.

Well, the child came in real handy, then, didn’t she? Sharmaji remarked.

Yeah, no doubt about it. Thank God, I don’t believe in all this silly family planning business! Or else where would I have got the child to use as I pleased?

Oh, you would surely have found some way out, Khanna remarked, You’re no novice.

Well, that’s true. But I had to spend over 5000 bucks… for nothing.

But, what for? enquired Mohan.

On fare and transport… and the people in the Divisional Superintendent’s office charged a good amount. Those rogues are real hawks, Bansibabu replied, laughing and thumping his thigh.

But all’s well that… Khanna began.

Absolutely! But, no problem… I’ll recover all that in a month from passengers who travel without tickets, Bansibabu said complacently. He looked so pleased with himself that had he been a cat, he would have purred.

Long after I had returned home, images of that child kept resurfacing to disturb my thoughts. I couldn’t erase the memory of those eyes, timid, bewildered, heartbreakingly innocent. I’d never seen any lamb being led to the slaughterhouse… But I suppose it must have contained the kind of shadows I had glimpsed lurking in the eyes of that little girl.

❒

2

BIT BY BITTER BIT

After Ma boarded the three-wheeler auto-rickshaw, Shrawan locked the front door of the house. He could not help thinking that Kirti should have been here at this moment. But why after all? Even if Kirti had been at home just now, what difference would it have made? Only that Shrawan would not have