Friends, our country has for centuries been the birthplace and homeland of numerous great personalities brimming with virtues – sages, poets, writers, musicians, and many more. The thousands of works created by these luminaries are invaluable. Today's youth, in this digital age, seem to be losing touch with our heritage and priceless treasures, drifting further and further away. subkuz.com consistently strives to bring you these invaluable treasures alongside entertaining stories, news, and information from India and the world. Presented here is one such priceless and inspiring story by Munshi Premchand.
* The Disguise (Swang)
Being born into a Rajput family doesn't automatically make one a warrior, nor does adding a 'Singh' to one's name bestow bravery. There's no doubt that Gajendra Singh's ancestors were Rajputs in their time. However, for the past three generations, they've lacked any Rajput characteristics except for the name. Gajendra Singh's grandfather was a lawyer who occasionally displayed Rajput traits in his arguments. His father ran a clothing shop, leaving no room for such displays, and Gajendra Singh completely abandoned them. Even their physique changed. While Bhupendra Singh had a broad chest and Narendra Singh a large belly, Gajendra Singh had neither. He was slight, fair-skinned, bespectacled, delicate, and a fashionable gentleman. He was interested in reading and studying.
But no matter the Rajput, his marriage would be within a Rajput family. The family Gajendra Singh married into hadn't entirely lost its Rajput spirit. His father-in-law was a retired Subedar. His brothers-in-law were hunters and wrestlers. Two years had passed since his wedding, yet he hadn't visited his in-laws even once; his studies had kept him busy. However, his studies were now complete, and he was looking for a job. So, when he received an invitation to visit his in-laws for Holi, he didn't hesitate. The Subedar had connections with high-ranking officials, and Gajendra knew well the respect and honor military officers commanded. He hoped that with the Subedar's recommendation, he might be appointed as a Deputy Tehsildar. He hadn't seen Shyamdulari, his wife, for a year either. He was aiming for two birds with one stone. He had a new silk coat made and arrived at his in-laws' house a day before Holi. Compared to his burly brothers-in-law, he seemed like a child.
It was the third watch. Gajendra Singh was recounting his college escapades to his brothers-in-law – how he'd defeated a tall, fair-skinned opponent in football, how he'd scored a goal single-handedly in a hockey match – when the Subedar arrived, looking majestic, and said to the elder son, "Listen, what are you doing sitting here? Babuji has arrived from the city; take him for a walk in the forest. Offer him some game. There’s no cold here, but he must be feeling restless. The time is also good; you’ll be back by evening."
Hearing the word 'hunting,' Gajendra Singh's heart sank. He had never hunted in his life. He feared where these rustic lads might take him, worried about encountering wild animals. What if a deer attacked him? Sometimes, a cornered deer turns on its attacker. And if he met a wolf, it would be the end. He said, "I don't feel like hunting right now; I'm very tired."
The Subedar commanded, "You ride the horse. This is the charm of the countryside. Chunnu, go get the gun; I'll also come along. I haven't been out for many days. Bring my rifle too."
Chunnu and Munnu happily ran to fetch the guns, while Gajendra's anxiety grew. He regretted engaging in idle chatter with these lads. He should have feigned illness and stayed on his cot upon arrival. Now, there was no escape. The biggest problem was riding the horse. Country horses are usually unruly even when tied, and when they see a novice rider, they become even more playful. If something went wrong and the horse bolted towards a ditch with him, it wouldn't end well.
Both brothers returned with the guns. The horse was brought, and the Subedar got ready in hunting attire. Gajendra had no more excuses. He looked at the horse with apprehension – it pawed the ground, neighed, held its head high, its eyes shone, its ears were erect, and its body trembled. Just looking at it filled him with fear. Gajendra's heart trembled, but to appear brave, he patted the horse's neck as if he were an experienced rider and said, "Animals are living beings, but it doesn't seem appropriate that you all walk and I ride a horse. I'm not that tired; I'll walk too. I'm used to it."
The Subedar said, "Son, the forest is far; you'll get tired. It's a gentle animal; even a child can ride it."
Gajendra said, "No, please let me walk. We'll chat as we walk. There's no pleasure in riding. You are older; you should ride."
All four of them walked. Gajendra's humility impressed the others. Refinement and morality were traits associated with city dwellers; on top of that, he was educated.
After a short distance, they encountered a rocky path, with a lush green field on one side and a mountain range on the other, both bordered by acacia, karil, karonda, and palash forests. The Subedar narrated tales from his military life. Gajendra tried to keep up the pace, but he repeatedly fell behind, having to run to catch up. Sweating profusely and gasping for breath, he regretted his folly. Why had he come here? Shyamdulari visited every month or two; why did he need to run like a dog? This was just the beginning; who knew what would happen if they spotted game? Running a mile or two was child's play for them, but he would be exhausted. His legs were already aching.
Suddenly, a silk-cotton tree appeared on the path. Crimson flowers lay scattered beneath it, and the entire tree was ablaze with blossoms. Gajendra stopped and gazed at the tree with rapturous eyes.
Chunnu asked, "What is it, Jijaji? Why did you stop?"
Gajendra Singh said, mesmerized, "Nothing, I am overwhelmed by the captivating beauty of this tree. Oh, what splendor, what charm, what magnificence! As if the forest goddess has donned a saffron robe to shame the heavens, or as if the holy souls of sages are resting here on their eternal journey, or as if nature's sweet music has taken a tangible form, casting a mesmerizing spell on the world. You all go hunting; let me be satiated by this nectar."
The two young men stared at Gajendra in astonishment. They couldn't understand what he was saying. The villagers, familiar with the forests, didn't find the silk-cotton tree unusual. They had seen it daily, climbed it many times, run beneath it, made balls from its flowers – yet this enchantment had never dawned on them. They didn't know how to appreciate beauty.
The Subedar had moved ahead. Seeing them stopped, he returned and asked, "Why did you stop, son?"
Gajendra folded his hands and said, "Please forgive me; I won't be able to hunt. The beauty of these flowers has captivated me; my soul is savoring the music of heaven. Oh, it's my own heart that is blossoming. It has the same crimson, the same beauty, the same essence. Only the veil of ignorance obscures it. Whom should we hunt? The innocent animals of the forest? We are the animals; we are the birds; this is the mirror of our imaginations reflecting a glimpse of the physical world. Should we shed our own blood? No, you go hunting; let me revel in this beauty and splendor. In fact, I pray that you too abstain from hunting. Life is a treasure of joys; don't spill its blood. Satiate your minds with nature's scenes. In every particle of nature, every flower, every leaf, the rays of this joy shine. Don't defile this inexhaustible source of joy by bloodshed."
This philosophical speech impressed everyone. The Subedar whispered to Chunnu, "He's young, but how knowledgeable he is!" Chunnu also expressed his reverence, "Knowledge awakens the soul; hunting is evil."
The Subedar, speaking wisely, said, "Yes, it is evil. Let's return. When the same light pervades everything, who is the hunter and who is the hunted? I shall never hunt again."
Then he said to Gajendra, "Brother, your words have opened our eyes. We swear we'll never hunt again."
Gajendra, still captivated, said, "I thank God for bestowing this wisdom upon you. I can't tell you how fond I was of hunting. Countless wild boars, deer, leopards, nilgai, and many more must have been killed by me. Once I even killed a cheetah. But today, I'm intoxicated by the wine of knowledge, and the world has ceased to exist."
The Holi bonfire was scheduled for nine o'clock at night. At eight, men and women, old and young, from the village, singing and playing music, moved towards the bonfire. The Subedar also went to light the Holi with his children and the guest.
Gajendra had never seen a village Holi before. In his city, a few thick logs were burnt in each neighborhood, which would smolder for days. Here, the Holi blazed in a large field, resembling a high mountain peak conversing with the sky. As soon as the priest chanted the mantras, welcoming the new year, the fireworks began. People of all ages started lighting crackers, rockets, and skyrockets. Several rockets whizzed past Gajendra's head; each time, he recoiled two or four steps, cursing these rustic villagers in his heart. What foolishness! The gunpowder could catch his clothes; some accident could happen, ruining everything. Such incidents happen every day, but these simpletons were oblivious. They'd do whatever their forefathers did, regardless of its meaning.
Suddenly, a deafening sound of a bomb-cracker went off, like a clap of thunder. Gajendra Singh jumped two feet in the air, perhaps the highest jump of his life. His heart pounded as if he were standing before a cannon. He immediately covered his ears and moved ten steps back.
Chunnu said, "Jijaji, what will you light? What should I get?"
Munnu said, "Light skyrockets, Jijaji. They're beautiful. They go up into the sky."
Chunnu said, "Children light skyrockets, not you. Light a bomb-cracker, sir."
Gajendra said, "Brother, I'm not interested in these things. I'm amazed to see how enthusiastic the elders are about lighting fireworks."
Munnu said, "At least light a few sparklers."
Gajendra found sparklers safe. How much more would the charm of his fair face, beautiful hair, and silk kurta be enhanced by their red, green, and golden glow? There was no danger either. He held them confidently, the sparks raining down, everyone's eyes fixed on him. His philosophical mind wasn't free from the desire for self-expression. He immediately picked up a sparkler, with a strange air of indifference. But as soon as he lit the first one, another bomb-cracker exploded. The sky trembled. Gajendra felt as if his eardrums had burst or a hammer had struck his head. The sparkler fell from his hand, and his chest began to pound. Before he could recover from this shock, another explosion occurred; it seemed as if the sky had split. The entire atmosphere vibrated; birds flew out of their nests, screeching; animals broke their tethers and ran; and Gajendra fled, running straight home to catch his breath. Chunnu and Munnu were terrified; the Subedar's senses were lost. All three ran after Gajendra. Others who saw them running thought an incident had occurred and followed them. The arrival of a respected guest wasn't a trivial matter in the village; all were asking each other, "What happened to the guest? What's the matter? Why are they running?"
In a moment, hundreds of people gathered at the Subedar's door to inquire about his well-being. A son-in-law, even if flawed, is always cherished in a village.
The Subedar asked in a trembling voice, "Why did you run away from there, brother?" Gajendra didn't know that his departure would cause such a commotion. But his quick wit had devised an answer that would instill awe in the villagers with his supernatural vision.
He said, "There was nothing special; I just felt like running away."
"No, there must have been something."
"What's the point of asking? I don't want to spoil your joy by revealing it."
"Until you tell us, son, we won't be at ease. The whole village is worried."
Gajendra once again adopted a Sufi-like expression, closed his eyes, yawned, looked towards the sky, and said, "The fact is that as soon as I held the sparkler, it felt as if someone snatched it from my hand and threw it away. I've never liked fireworks; I've always spoken ill of them. Today, I did something against my conscience; that's why it happened. It felt as if my soul was condemning me. Shame made my head hang low, and I ran away in that state. Now, please forgive me; I won't be able to join you in the celebration."
The Subedar shook his head as if no one but him could understand this spiritual mystery. His eyes seemed to say, "Can you understand these things? What would you understand? We too only partially comprehend."
The Holi bonfire was lit on time, but the fireworks were thrown into the river. The boys hid some to light later when Gajendra was gone.
Shyamdulari said privately, "You ran away pretty fast."
Gajendra said proudly, "Why should I run? There was no need to run."
"I was terrified; I didn't know what had happened. I also ran with you."
"The fireworks should have been thrown in the water."
"That's like throwing money into the fire."
"If not on Holi, when should they be used? That's why festivals are celebrated."
"Festivals are for singing, dancing, cooking and eating good food, giving charity, meeting friends, being kind, not for lighting firecrackers."
It was midnight. Someone knocked on the door. Gajendra asked, startled, "Who knocked?"
Shyama casually said, "It must be a cat."
They heard the sounds of several people running, then another knock. Gajendra trembled, peered through a crack in the door using a lantern, and turned pale – four or five men, dressed in kurtas, turbans, and beards, carrying guns on their shoulders, were trying hard to break down the door. Gajendra listened to their conversation:
"They've both fallen asleep; break down the door; the valuables are in the cupboard."
"What if they wake up?"
"What can a woman do? We'll tie the man to the bed."
"I hear Gajendra Singh is a b man."
"No matter how b he is, what can he do against four armed men?"
Gajendra's blood ran cold. He said to Shyamdulari, "These seem like robbers. What will happen now? My hands and feet are trembling."
"Shout 'thief,' thief'; they'll be alerted. You run away. No, I'll shout. Thieves are cowards."
"No, no, don't do anything rash. They all have guns. Why is the village so quiet? What about the family members?"
"Chunnu's father and Munnu's father are sleeping in the barn. The dogs are lying at the gate. Even if a cannon exploded near them, they wouldn't wake up."
"Is there any other window in this room through which the sound can reach outside? Is this a house or a prison?"
"I will shout."
"No, sister, why are you bent on dying? I think we should both lie down quietly and close our eyes. Let the thugs take whatever they want; at least our lives will be saved. Look, the door is shaking; it might break down. Oh God, where to go? In this crisis, only you are our hope. Who knew that this calamity was coming? It's best to remain silent. Even if they shake us, don't breathe."
"I can't remain silent."
"Why don't you remove your jewelry? The devils will only take the jewelry."
"I won't remove my jewelry, no matter what."
"Why are you bent on dying?"
"I won't remove my jewelry willingly, it's a different matter if they forcibly take it."
"Keep quiet; listen to what they are saying."
A voice came from outside, "Open the door; otherwise, we'll break it down."
Gajendra pleaded with Shyamdulari, "Shyama, please listen to me, remove your jewelry. I promise I'll get you new jewelry very soon."
A voice from outside, "Alright, we give you one more minute. If you don't open the door, there will be trouble."
Gajendra asked Shyamdulari, "Should I open it?"
"Yes, call your brothers? They are pushing the door from outside; you push it from inside."
"What if the door falls on me? There are five b men!"
"There's a stick in the corner; pick it up and stand."
"You've gone mad."
"If Chunnu's father were here, he would have knocked them all down."
"I'm not a wrestler."
"Then let's lie down with our faces covered, I'll handle them."
"They'll let you go, and my head will be gone."
"You will save my life!"
"I can't bear it anymore; I'll open the door."
She opened the door. The five robbers burst in. One said to his companion, "I've got this fellow; you take all the woman's jewelry."
Another said, "She has closed her eyes. Why don't you open your eyes, madam?"
A third one said, "Man, the woman is beautiful!"
A fourth one said, "Listen, woman, give me the jewelry, or I'll strangle you."
Gajendra was furious inside; why wouldn't this witch give up her jewelry? Let them kill him.
Shyamdulari said, "Strangle me; shoot me; I won't give you the jewelry."
The first one said, "Let's take him. She won't listen; the house is empty."
The second one said, "That's the best course of action. Why, girl, won't you come with us?"
Shyamdulari said, "I'll smear soot on your faces."
The third one said, "If she doesn't come, we'll sell this fellow."
Shyama said, "I'll have you all handcuffed."
The fourth one said, "Why are you so angry, queen? Why won't you come with us? We've had our fill of this fellow. What will happen if we forcefully take you? You're not complying so easily. I don't want to hurt such a beautiful woman."
The fifth one said, "Either give us all your jewelry or come with us."
Shyamdulari said, "My uncles will arrive and skin you all alive."
The first one said, "She won't listen; let's take this fellow. Then she herself will beg."
Two robbers tied Gajendra's hands and feet with a sheet. Gajendra lay like a corpse, unable to breathe, fuming inside – "Oh, what an unfaithful woman! She won't give up her jewelry even if they kill me. Good, I'll see to this when I survive. Not even a word."
The robbers lifted Gajendra and reached the courtyard when Shyamdulari, standing at the door, said, "Let him go, and I'll come with you."
The first one said, "Why didn't you agree earlier? Will you come?"
Shyamdulari said, "I will. I'm saying so."
The third one said, "Good, come along. We're letting him go."
Two robbers laid Gajendra on the cot and took Shyamdulari away. Silence fell in the room. Gajendra cautiously opened his eyes; no one was visible. He got up and peeked out the door but didn't dare to go outside. He wanted to wake the Subedar but couldn't utter a word.
Then he heard giggles. Five women, gossiping, entered Shyamdulari's room. Gajendra was nowhere to be seen.
One said, "Where did they go?"
Shyamdulari said, "They must have gone outside."
Another said, "They must be very ashamed."
A third one said, "They must have been so scared that they couldn't even breathe."
Hearing their conversation, Gajendra felt relieved. He thought the house might have been alerted. He rushed to the door and said, "See where Shyama is; I didn't even wake up. Send someone quickly."
Suddenly, he was astonished to see Shyama standing among those women, laughing.
The five friends began laughing and clapping.
One said, "Wow, Jijaji, we saw your bravery."
Shyamdulari said, "You are all devils."
A third one said, "Your wife went away with them, and you didn't even breathe!"
Gajendra understood; he had been thoroughly tricked. But his quick wit immediately salvaged the situation, saying, "So what? I would have ruined your disguise!"
Everyone stared at Gajendra's face.
This was an inspiring story by the great writer Munshi Premchand. We learn many new things from this story. The entire team of subkuz strives to bring inspiring stories to its visitors daily. Keep reading such inspiring and informative stories on subkuz.com.
