The worst part of cycling back home , on a dark night , are the dangers you might find therein.
Sudden rain , which may compel you to stop beneath a haunted tamarind tree , in which case , one may be compelled to recite the hanuman chalisa.
Sudden fog , which may make you lose your way.
Thirdly and most importantly, robbers.
The last is the deadliest. For one is alone , it is conveniently dark , and you are certain to carry some or the other form of wealth , money or gold jewellery , on your person. You could easily get killed if you resisted , and be tossed into the swollen monsoon rivers ,never to be found . Second reason , is that , it involves , greedy and desperate human beings. Experience teaches one that there is nothing more dangerous than a human desperately in need of some cash.
Ishwar , used to cycle back home every day. All of 15kms. He used to start at 1600 hrs, after the last bale of hay had been placed in the haystack, and the last cow had mooed in .
Even at a moderate clip, his was a daunting terrain. He had to cross two rivers and several stretches in the road , that badly needed repairs. Potholes were many , so were lurching , swaying , trucks and buses , driven mostly by reckless people , in varying stages of inebriation ( what do you expect at this time of the night ? saints on the road?)
So it was , that one evening : or shall we call it night , as darkness swiftly descends in a village , and the stars were out:Ishwar was riding in the dark , when he espied what seemed like fuzzy bundles of whitish cloths at some distance . To his consternation, these bundles began moving at the sight of him and quickly metamorphosed into masked , dhoti ,kurta and turban clad dacoits.. Before his reflexes could kick in , he found a lathi jammed into the spokes of his rear wheel , which rendered any movement impossible . He alighted with a thudding heart.
A quick search revealed that Ishwar was carrying 750 ml of buffalo milk , on the verge of curdling , in a foul smelling aluminium vessel , and Rs. 27 in cash . Cash he was quickly divested of . Milk was drunk with impunity , shared amongst all the thugs (they has to remove their masks in this process , but that did not seem to bother them at all ). It may well be noted that this was a warm , summery night .
They also took away keys to the landlord's house , and some important court papers. Now , this is a sticky bit , we will come to later.
The landlord lived in the town , and had kept Ishwar , a poor , unemployed relative , as a caretaker of sorts . He used to go to the village and supervise planting of crops, harvesting , distribution of money and grains to workers , who called him "Ishwar babu " and had no problems with the arrangement.
Over few years , the landlord grew old and infirm , his wife , passed away after a brief illness. In a matter of months , the landlord himself passed away , and the house in the town was locked up by the son , who lived in a huge metropolis, 1530 kms away .
One day, after some years, when the landlord's son, decided to reclaim his property,he found himself locked out . The key , he was told, was with Ishwar. The harvest , went to Ishwar's home, the revenue,was collected , by Ishwar . He had employed people under him. He was the boss. When the son approached the courts for justice , he was told that the papers were all in order , and all proved that Ishwar was the legal heir and owner , not he .
If there was ever a peaceful , bloodless coup ,it was this.
When this happened , it ignited a great deal of debate . About what was right or wrong ?About who was the right owner , etc. It is generally believed that the keys and papers were usurped(If Ishwar can be called that , after all the slogging he did , looking after that land) that night , when the rest of the world was made to believe that he was mugged . There seems to be some truth in this theory , as the battered aluminium milk vessel ,still moldy , was discovered lying in the village house , unused , in some room , and not by the roadside , as claimed by Ishwar.
The sudden , unexpected appearance of the son did create some waves , as a faction of the farm workers , still loyal to the old landlord , sided with him . Things took an ugly turn when the son threatened to sell the house (of which the papers lay with him , still), Ishwar went ballistic.
A team of electricians , movers were called in , and the house stripped bare . The light fixtures , furnitures , utensils , clothes , beddings , everything , that could be sold was sold . Even the wooden door and window frames were not spared .
After a fortnight , when the son arrived with real estate agents , a bombed out house greeted him , with eyeless sockets of window and door holes, and crumbling walls, caved in roof. Heartbroken , he never returned.
Sudden rain , which may compel you to stop beneath a haunted tamarind tree , in which case , one may be compelled to recite the hanuman chalisa.
Sudden fog , which may make you lose your way.
Thirdly and most importantly, robbers.
The last is the deadliest. For one is alone , it is conveniently dark , and you are certain to carry some or the other form of wealth , money or gold jewellery , on your person. You could easily get killed if you resisted , and be tossed into the swollen monsoon rivers ,never to be found . Second reason , is that , it involves , greedy and desperate human beings. Experience teaches one that there is nothing more dangerous than a human desperately in need of some cash.
Ishwar , used to cycle back home every day. All of 15kms. He used to start at 1600 hrs, after the last bale of hay had been placed in the haystack, and the last cow had mooed in .
Even at a moderate clip, his was a daunting terrain. He had to cross two rivers and several stretches in the road , that badly needed repairs. Potholes were many , so were lurching , swaying , trucks and buses , driven mostly by reckless people , in varying stages of inebriation ( what do you expect at this time of the night ? saints on the road?)
So it was , that one evening : or shall we call it night , as darkness swiftly descends in a village , and the stars were out:Ishwar was riding in the dark , when he espied what seemed like fuzzy bundles of whitish cloths at some distance . To his consternation, these bundles began moving at the sight of him and quickly metamorphosed into masked , dhoti ,kurta and turban clad dacoits.. Before his reflexes could kick in , he found a lathi jammed into the spokes of his rear wheel , which rendered any movement impossible . He alighted with a thudding heart.
A quick search revealed that Ishwar was carrying 750 ml of buffalo milk , on the verge of curdling , in a foul smelling aluminium vessel , and Rs. 27 in cash . Cash he was quickly divested of . Milk was drunk with impunity , shared amongst all the thugs (they has to remove their masks in this process , but that did not seem to bother them at all ). It may well be noted that this was a warm , summery night .
They also took away keys to the landlord's house , and some important court papers. Now , this is a sticky bit , we will come to later.
The landlord lived in the town , and had kept Ishwar , a poor , unemployed relative , as a caretaker of sorts . He used to go to the village and supervise planting of crops, harvesting , distribution of money and grains to workers , who called him "Ishwar babu " and had no problems with the arrangement.
Over few years , the landlord grew old and infirm , his wife , passed away after a brief illness. In a matter of months , the landlord himself passed away , and the house in the town was locked up by the son , who lived in a huge metropolis, 1530 kms away .
One day, after some years, when the landlord's son, decided to reclaim his property,he found himself locked out . The key , he was told, was with Ishwar. The harvest , went to Ishwar's home, the revenue,was collected , by Ishwar . He had employed people under him. He was the boss. When the son approached the courts for justice , he was told that the papers were all in order , and all proved that Ishwar was the legal heir and owner , not he .
If there was ever a peaceful , bloodless coup ,it was this.
When this happened , it ignited a great deal of debate . About what was right or wrong ?About who was the right owner , etc. It is generally believed that the keys and papers were usurped(If Ishwar can be called that , after all the slogging he did , looking after that land) that night , when the rest of the world was made to believe that he was mugged . There seems to be some truth in this theory , as the battered aluminium milk vessel ,still moldy , was discovered lying in the village house , unused , in some room , and not by the roadside , as claimed by Ishwar.
The sudden , unexpected appearance of the son did create some waves , as a faction of the farm workers , still loyal to the old landlord , sided with him . Things took an ugly turn when the son threatened to sell the house (of which the papers lay with him , still), Ishwar went ballistic.
A team of electricians , movers were called in , and the house stripped bare . The light fixtures , furnitures , utensils , clothes , beddings , everything , that could be sold was sold . Even the wooden door and window frames were not spared .
After a fortnight , when the son arrived with real estate agents , a bombed out house greeted him , with eyeless sockets of window and door holes, and crumbling walls, caved in roof. Heartbroken , he never returned.
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