RPS (initials of the name changed) became my friend when we
were in school. He was good at studies and was obedient to the teachers, but
was rather undisciplined. I was also good at studies but, unlike him was not
very obedient to the teachers. However, the teachers liked me because my
self-discipline was of a high order.
I do not know what made RPS and I like each other. He once
took me to his house after the school hours. He had a huge house with one room
exclusively for himself with furniture, a big radio, a fancy gramophone with a
big collection of discs and many other things. My family (father, mother, my
sister and I) lived in one room. He was rich, but that did not bother me
because my family was much respected otherwise. When I found no other family
member in the house (3-4 servants were, however, present) I asked RPS about his
mother. When he told me that he had no mother and forbade me to make further inquiries
about his family, I just dropped the issue, perhaps forever. I, however, came
to know that his father, a successful criminal lawyer, was a very rich man
having lots of agricultural land in his native place and properties in the city
RPS and I lived.
After schooling both RPS and I took admission in the same
institute away from our homes for a professional degree. We remained friends
there also for five years in the professional institute, but our contact became
limited as we lived in different hostels and opted for two different streams of
studies.
It was when we were about to complete our degree and were
about to leave the institute that RPS came to me and said, “Now that we all are
going to vanish soon, at least, for each other, let me tell you that I will
leave India soon. My father wants me to go to the USA for two-three years. He
is financing it. It suits me well for the time being. I hate my lineage. I
belong to a cruel family. I do not want to inherit cruelty. I want to snap all
ties with my past. Whatever I possess I am not entitled to it. My ancestors,
for three generations, snatched away lands from the poor, piece by piece, by
using force or cheating others. My father also almost looted his clients. My
father would try his best that I come back to India after a few years, marry
and live upholding the family tradition of becoming richer and more powerful,
and looking down upon those who are down below. I am telling you all this
because I want someone to know how I feel about myself.”
We remained together for about two hours. He did most of the
talking. I learned many things about my friend for the first time; the things
that I had no experience with. Finally, we departed, expecting nothing from
each other, promising nothing to each other. He went abroad and I did not leave
India.
After about twelve years of my leaving the institute I
received an inland letter from RPS that we had posted from some remote place in
south India. He wrote;
“I could locate you with much difficulty. I am living in
India for last three years. We are four individuals; one of them is my wife, an
Indian, trying to serve a small population of the rural poor with no land or
small land holding. I still hate my lineage, but, that is keeping me alive. In
fact, my current activities help me to deactivate my hatred towards my own self
to quite an extent. Confirm that you got this letter and write about you. Let
me do some more work, and then I will invite you to show what I am doing. RPS.”
The stories I am posting in this series are true stories. The
conversation may not be exact, but I have tried to make it as close as possible
to the feelings expressed and the intent of the speakers.
[This series is being written and presented by Promod Kumar
Sharma, the author of “Mahatma A Scientist of the Intuitively Obvious” &
“In Search of Our Wonderful Words”. This series shall be published only on this
site.]
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