The Spoilt Child/Chapter 20
CHAPTER XX.
THE SHRADDHA CEREMONY.
On the death of his father, Matilall succeeded to the guddee, and became the head of the house. His former companions never left his side for a moment, and he grew as proud as a turkey-cock, rejoicing in the thought that at last after so long a time he might give his extravagance its full bent. When Matilall displayed a little grief on his father's account, his companions said to him: "Why are you so depressed? who expects to live for ever with his father and mother? You are now lord and master." A fool's grief is a mere empty name. How can true sorrow possibly affect the mind of the man who has never given any happiness to those whom he should hold most sacred -- his father and his mother -- but on the contrary untold pain and misery? The feeling, if it does arise, passes away like a shadow, and the natural consequence is that such a man can never have any veneration for the memory of his father, and his mind is never inclined to do anything to keep him in remembrance. Matilall's eager desire to know the extent of the property which his father had left, very soon overshadowed his grief. Acting on the advice of his companions, he put double locks on the house-door and on the money-chest, and became more easy in his mind when he had done so. He was in a perpetual state of alarm lest his money should somehow or other fall into the hands of his mother, stepmother, brother or sister, and be altogether lost to him in consequence. His companions were continually saying to him: "Money is a very important thing, sir! Where it is in question, no confidence is to be reposed even in one's own father. Now there is your younger brother always carrying a big bag of virtue about with him wherever he goes, and with truth always on his tongue; yet even his preceptor never shows indulgence to anyone, but whenever he has the opportunity enforces his full claims. We have seen a good many shams of that kind. Anyhow, Barada Babu must know something of witchcraft: he must have lived some time at Kamrup. How otherwise is it possible to account for the great influence he had over Baburam Babu at the time of his death?"
Not very long after this conversation, Matilall proceeded to visit his relatives and kinsmen, to signify his accession to his new position as master of the house. Busybodies are at all times to be found, ready to interfere in other people's concerns. Like the twists and turns of the jelabhi sweetmeat, their conversation touches on a variety of topics, but never goes straight to the point: like air it wanders where it will, and it is as difficult to get hold of, for it will generally be found on close examination to have double meaning. Some of those he visited said: "The master was a most worthy person: had it not been for his great store of merit, he could not have had the children he did. His death too,--why, it was characteristic of the man! it was marvellous! Ah, sir, all this time you have been under the shelter of a mountain, shielded and protected! You will now have your own discretion to depend upon: the family all look to you: you have the whole number of religious festivals to keep up: you have, moreover, to perpetuate the name of your father and your grandfather. First, of course you must perform the shraddha with due regard to your property: you need not in this matter dance to the tune of the world's opinion. Why Ram Chandra himself offered a funeral cake of sand to his father's shade, and if you have to abridge your expenditure in this respect, it is idle to mourn over that: but to do nothing at all is not good. Ah, sir, you must know that your father's name resounds far and wide! by virtue of his name the tiger and the cow drink at the same pool! can his shraddha then be like the shraddha of a poor and insignificant man? Even those encumbered with debt must avoid the world's reproach." Matilall could not comprehend the drift of all this talk. These men, while nominally manifesting their bosom friendship as kinsmen for a kinsman, were really in their inmost hearts eager to have a gorgeous shraddha ceremony, and themselves to get the management of it, so that they might gain importance thereby; but they would never give a plain answer to a plain question. One of them said: "It will never do not to have the shorash, with the usual display of silver and other presents" Another remarked: "You will find it very hard to keep the world's respect, if you do not have a dan-sagar, with costly presents of every kind for all comers." Another said: "It will be a very poor sort of shraddha, if there is no dampati-baran for poor Brahmans." And another said: "It will be a great disgrace if pandits are not invited to attend, and a distribution of alms not made to the poor." There was a good deal of wrangling over the affair. "Who wants your advice?" -- "Who told you to argue?" -- "Who listens to your conclusions?" -- "Nobody respects you in the village: it is only in your own opinion that you are the head-man," such remarks were freely bandied about from one to the other. Each of those present indeed was in his own estimation the most important man there, and each man thought what he had to say the conclusion of the whole matter. Three days after this discussion, Beni Babu, Becharam Babu, Bancharam Babu, and Bakreswar Babu, arrived at Matilall's house. Thakchacha was sitting near Matilall as melancholy and spiritless as a snake with its jewelled crest lost: with bead-rosary in his hand and with trembling lips, he was muttering his prayers. His attention was not directed to the brisk conversation that was going on around him: his eyes were rolling about, their glance chiefly directed at the wall. When he saw Beni Babu and the others, he rose hurriedly and saluted them. Such humility on Thakchacha's part had never been witnessed before, but the old proverb has it:-- "With the venom, goes the glamour."
Beni Babu took hold of Thakchacha's hand, and said to him: "Why, what are you doing? How is it that you, a venerable old Moulvi as you are, honour us like this?"
Bancharam Babu said: "We must waste no more time: our leisure is very limited. Nothing is as yet arranged; come, tell us what should be done."
Becharam.-- Baburam's affairs are in great confusion: some of the property will have to be sold to clear off debts. It would not be right to celebrate the shraddha on a magnificent scale and incur more debt by so doing.
Bancharam.-- What is this I hear? Surely the very first requisite is to avoid the censure of the world: the property may be looked after later on. Shall honour and reputation be allowed to float away on the waters of this flood?
Becharam.-- That is very bad advice, and I will never assent to it myself. How now, friend Beni, what do you say?
Beni.-- To incur debt again in any case where there is already a good deal, and where it is doubtful whether it can be cleared off even by a sale of property, is really a species of theft; for how can the new debt incurred be cleared off? Bancharam.-- Bah! that is only an English idea. As a matter of fact the rich always live on credit: they incur debts here only to pay them off there. A respectable man like you should not be a marplot; or put obstacles in the way of a good action. I have no property to give way myself, but if any one else is prepared to make presents to all the pandits, am I bound to offer any opposition? We all of us have pandits more or less dependent upon us, and they will all want to receive invitations. It is only natural they should: they must live.
Bakreswar.-- Very well said, sir! There is an old saying: "Death before dishonour."
Becharam.-- Baburam Babu's family are in the centre of a conflagration: as far as I can see they will soon be utterly ruined. We must try and find a remedy to prevent this. A curse on this method of purchasing renown at the expense of debt! I do not consider Brahman followers to have such a claim upon me that I should sacrifice others to fill their maws: a pretty business that would be! Come, my friend Beni, let us be off.
As soon as Beni Babu and Becharam Babu had gone, Bancharam said "A good riddance! these two gentlemen understand nothing about the matter: they only talk. How refreshing it is to speak with a man of real intelligence. Thakchacha, come and sit by me: what is your opinion in this matter?"
"It is a great pleasure to me also," Thakchacha replied, "to have a talk with a man like you: those two gentlemen are daft: I am afraid to go near them. All that you have said is very true: a man's life is practically thrown away if his honour and power are lost. You and I will look well after the particulars and get rid of all the difficulties. Is there any cause for alarm then?" Matilall was naturally very extravagant, and fond of display: he had no knowledge of money matters at all, and knew nothing of business. He put full confidence in Bancharam and Thakchacha: for apart from the fact that they were always frequenting the courts and had the law at their fingers' ends, they had managed to win an influence over him, exactly hitting off his wishes by their clever ingenuity.
"Do you undertake the entire management of this business," said he, "I will sign my name to anything you require."
"Let me have the master's will out of the box," Bancharam Babu said. "Under the terms of the will, you are the only heir: your brother is a lunatic, consequently his name has been omitted. If you take the will and hand it into court, you will have letters of administration granted you, and the property may then be mortgaged, or sold upon your signature only." Matilall at once opened the box, and took the will out.
When Bancharam had done all that was necessary in the courts, he made arrangements with a money-lender, and returned to the Vaidyabati house with the papers and the money. Matilall signed the papers the moment he caught sight of the money, and putting his hands on the bag of rupees was on the point of placing it in the box, when Bancharam and Thakchacha said to him, "Ah, sir! if the money remains with you, it will soon be all spent: it will be safer, we think, in our charge. You are so good-natured you know, so tender-hearted, that you cannot deny anything even to a look: we, knowing people better, will be able to drive all suppliants away."
Matilall thought to himself: "This is very excellent advice: besides, how am I to get any money to spend after the shraddha! have no father now to get money from by a mere look." So he agreed to their proposal.
Great were the preparations for the shraddha ceremony of Baburam Babu. What with the noise of arranging the shorash and the silver presents to be given to the pandits, the smell of the sweetmeats, the buzzing of hornets, the pungent smoke from wet wood, and the continual stream of things arriving for use on the occasion, the whole house was full of confusion and bustle. Brahmans of the poorer classes, whether connected with family worship, or with shop or bazar accounts, all wearing silk clothes, and with Ganges clay on their foreheads, were continually crowding in for invitations to the shraddha ceremony. Of the Tarkavagishas, Vidyaratnas, Nyayalankars, Bachaspatis, and Vidyasagars, all learned and celebrated pandits, there was no end. Sages and gurus were continually arriving. It was like the festival of the village leather-seller, on the death of a cow.
The day of the ceremony arrived. Pandits from all parts of the country had come for the assembly usual on such occasions[40], and seated near them were their relatives, kinsmen and friends. Before them were arranged presents of every description and for all comers; horses, palkis, brass dishes, broadcloth, oil vessels, and hard cash. On one side of them the processional singing was in progress, and in the midst of the singers was Becharam Babu enthusiastically absorbed in the music. Outside the house were collected together Brahmans of lesser degree, pedigree reciters, mendicants, sannyasis and beggars. Thakchacha, not having sufficient effrontery to sit down in the assembly, was roaming about in the crowd.
The venerable Pandits were taking snuff and conversing together on subjects connected with the shástras. One of their characteristics is the difficulty they find in carrying on a discussion at their great meetings calmly and composedly: some element of discord is always sure to arise. One of the pandits introduced a portion of the Nyaya shástras for discussion:-- "Smoke is the effect of fire, and this is a different substance from a water-jar." A pandit from Orissa thereupon remarked, "The water-jar is itself distinct from a mountain." "What is this, my friend, that you are saying?" asked a pandit from Kashigoya, "you surely have not paid proper attention to the sentence: he who regards a water-jar, clothes, and a mountain as the same as smoke from a fire, simply murders the famous Siromani." A pandit from Eastern Bengal said: "Smoke is an entirely different substance from a water-jar: smoke is the effect of fire: how then can there be smoke when there is no fire[41]?" And so the dispute went on, and at last, from simply glaring at each other, they got to a hand-to-hand scrimmage.
Thakchacha thought matters were looking serious and that he had better calm things down before they went any further; so going quietly up to them, he said: "I say, gentlemen, why are you making such minute enquiries about such trifles as a water-pot or a lamp? I will make you a much more valuable present; I will give you two water-pots apiece," A very sharp Brahman amongst the pandits at once got up and said, "Who are you, you low fellow? An infidel outcast present at the shraddha of a Hindu? This is not the shraddha of a she-ghost, that an apparition like you should be the superintendent of it." As he said this, everybody present began abusing Thakchacha, thumping him with their fists, pushing him about and beating him with sticks. Thereupon Bancharam Babu hurried up and said: "If you make a disturbance and interfere with the shraddha in this way, I will know the reason why: I will get a summons out against you at once from the High Court. I am not a man to be trifled with I can tell you." Bakreswar Babu too had his say. "That is right: besides, the boy who is performing the shraddha is no common boy, he is the very model of a boy." Becharam Baba observed: "It is becoming a matter of notoriety that nothing ever goes right where Thakchacha and Bancharam have the management. Ugh! Ugh." The disturbance did not cease. The rowdy vagrants who were present, and others, kept adding to the confusion, and as blows from the canes continually rained on them, they shouted out, "A fine shraddha indeed you have celebrated." At length all the respectable gentlemen present, seeing the state of affairs, exclaimed:--
"Friends! Call this a shraddha? Whose shraddha I pray?
"Tis death to a Brahman to toil without pay."
"Come, we had better slip away at once: why should we run any more risk when there is nothing to be gained by it?"