Kashmiri Short Story
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Kashmiri Short Story SON’S SALARY By Late Bansilal Nirdosh Translated by Dr.Shiben Krishen Raina |
| After forty years of servitude, today was the last day of his slavery to Sansar Chand. He felt utterly hollow, like an empty shell. He had been waiting for this day for a long time, the day when his son, Kundan, would find a job and he would be freed from this bondage. His wish had finally come true. After completing his BA and being unemployed for three whole years, Kundan had now become a clerk in the office of Accountant General. Sansar Chand was overjoyed. He felt as if his son had been given a kingdom or a high rank. On the day Kundan received his appointment letter, Sansar Chand handed his employer a one-month notice in the afternoon and said, "After this month is over, I want to quit my job. God has heard my prayers; my son has got a job. He will get six hundred rupees. Six hundred from him and two hundred from my pension. It is enough for us two old people and two boys." There were a total of four members in Sansar Chand’s family: himself, his wife, and two sons. He had married off his eldest daughter six years ago, right after retiring from government service. For the past six or seven years, he had been working at our shop. Sansar Chand did not call it a job but slavery. Not because he disliked private jobs, but because he viewed his entire life in this way. He often used to say, "I am, after all, a born slave. My whole life has been spent in slavery. First, I was a slave to the government, now I am a slave to my employer." But now he was convinced that his days of slavery were over. His son had got a job. Now he had no worries. Today was the last day of the month. Sansar Chand seemed unusually happy. His son Kundan was going to bring home his first salary today. A whole six hundred rupees. Although Sansar Chand himself received four hundred rupees from the shop in addition to his pension, making his total income six hundred rupees per month, he considered his son’s six hundred rupees to be a huge sum. Perhaps equal to six thousand or six lakhs. I think that when Sansar Chand had brought home his first salary forty years ago, he would not have been as happy as he was today seeing Kundan bring home his salary. My salary was no more than Sansar Chand’s, only about four hundred, but I spent it as I wished. My father and elder brother took care of the household expenses. Moreover, I was still unmarried. So, I did not have any special responsibility for the household. There was a big difference between me and Sansar Chand. He had married off a girl and had given a decent dowry despite living a life of poverty and had fulfilled all the demands of the boy’s family. He had even taken a small loan for the girl’s happiness. That was seven years ago. In these seven years, after retiring, he had accepted another kind of slavery. To run the household, to educate two sons, and to feel financially secure, he had reluctantly accepted his employer’s slavery. Meanwhile, after a lot of running around and many efforts, one of his two sons had finally got a job. For the past seven years, Sansar Chand had been waiting for this and had probably told me seven thousand times, "Majid Bhai! As soon as Kundan gets a job, I will be free from this slavery. I have had enough of this service!" There is no doubt that Sansar Chand was very skilled at his work. Our employer had never been able to find any employee who knew as much about accounts as Sansar Chand. Sansar Chand had become his trusted man. He was aware of all his employer’s business secrets. Whatever his employer asked him to do, whether true or false, Sansar Chand would do it silently with his eyes closed. He believed, "I only follow orders, the employer himself is responsible for the sin and virtue. We are just servants, slaves. We have already been given this punishment. Slavery and poverty are both punishments. To beg and plead in front of the sales tax and income tax officials, not for oneself but for the comfort of the employer, is this not a curse, a punishment? In exchange for all this, take four hundred rupees as salary on the seventh of every month, is this not moral and intellectual slavery? Holding the salary money in his hands on the seventh of every month and kissing it, Sansar Chand often used to repeat, "Majid Bhai, pray to God that my Kundan gets a job soon. Then I will relax and stretch myself. Even after retiring, I never slept peacefully. Earlier, I used to worry about being late for the office, lest the officer might get angry. Even today, sometimes I wake up from sleep, thinking that the shop must have opened, the employer must have come from home." All of Sansar Chand’s worries were coming to an end today. Today his son was going to bring home his first salary and with it, one month was also going to pass off the notice that Sansar Chand had given to his employer to be freed from his job. I was sure that today Sansar Chand would sleep peacefully for the first time in his life. Now he was no one’s servant, no one’s slave. I myself had no experience of government jobs, but I agreed with Sansar Chand that for private employees, the employer’s job is worse than slavery. The talk of equal rights is just an illusion there. The employee is not a human being but a slave bought by the employer. All seven generations of his family are his slaves: his neighbors are his slaves. He has to listen to all sorts of things all day long: "Which neighborhood are you from, man? You don’t have any sense of how to please the customer, why? You will eat your fill but won’t do a bit of work, which lazy village are you from? You are good for nothing." etc., etc. Well, our employer was not so arrogant that he would keep scolding his employees all the time. He had seen many places. He used to go to Delhi, Bombay, Calcutta, etc., once or twice a month. Although he was open-minded, he would still get his shopkeepers to do some small household chores: ordering groceries or paying electricity bills, bringing and taking gas cylinders, taking children to and from school. I felt very guilty doing the employer’s household chores. It was like a death-like pain. But the other employees would do this work happily. Sansar Chand himself was one of them. He used to say that if you work for the employer and do not do some of his household chores, how can that be? If there is no work in the shop, the employer will not give you a salary, he will take some kind of forced labor. Those were winter days. The cold was biting. The weather was heavy and the sky seemed to be hanging. The roads were full of ice and water. Without people, the markets were like empty pockets. No new faces were visible and there was no special difference between one person and the other. With caps on, wearing fur coats, and overcoats on top, all faces and all appearances looked tired and worn out, just like Sansar Chand. But that was not the case today. For the past month, there had been some glow on Sansar Chand’s face, as this was the first month since Kundan had got a job. In the mirror of Kundan’s job, Sansar Chand had seen many sweet and true dreams of his happy and prosperous old age. Those dreams were about to come true today. Today was his last day at the shop. My heart was heavy. On the one hand, I had developed a strange kind of relationship and attachment with Sansar Chand over the past few years. But, at the same time, I was also happy. I thought, well, it’s good, he is free from this slavery. How long would he drag this old body? He has been working for forty years. Now he needs rest. If his son doesn’t give him rest, then who will? After meeting all the employees, Sansar Chand took leave and went home a little early. "Sansar Chandji, please keep visiting us from time to time," I said, accompanying him upto the road. You never know what life holds! Who knows when we will meet again? I thought about this for a long time that night. The very next day, Sansar Chand was present at the shop again. We were all surprised to see him. He told the employer, "Sir, I want to withdraw my notice." All the employees were happy. The employer was even happier. But I was not. Taking Sansar Chand aside, I asked, "Why Sansar Chandji? You were going to sleep peacefully, to relieve yourself of forty years of fatigue, to be free from this slavery! Didn’t Kundan get his salary?" "Yes, he did," his voice came out with great difficulty. "Then?" "Well, he got his salary. But before bringing it all home, he spent it all. He bought suits, boots, and other things for himself. He was right. Because of my selfishness, I couldn’t understand the reality." "What did he say?" I asked impatiently. He said, "I have expenses too. I also have to live in the world. Just as the house used to run until now, why can’t it run now?" After hearing Sansar Chand’s words, I couldn’t see his gaze. Despondency spread throughout my body. I couldn’t say anything to him. It was the first day of the month today. As soon as I received my salary on the seventh, I placed all the money in front of my father. Abbu couldn’t believe it. He seemed surprised by seeing my salary! Translator is former Fellow,IIAS,Shimla(HP) |
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Bansilal NirdoshTranslated by Dr.Shiben Krishen Raina |
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