6. The fight

 • Ranji discovers a pool in the forest and plunges into it for a swim. 

• There is serious trouble between him and someone else over who has a right to the pool. A fight ensues.

• The first round ends in a draw. 

RANJI had been less than a month in Rajpur when he discovered the pool in the forest. It was the height of summer, and his school had not yet opened, and, having as yet made no friends in this semi-hill station, he wandered about a good deal by himself into the hills and forests that stretched away interminably on all sides of the town. It was hot, very hot, at that time of the year, and Ranji walked about in his vest and shorts, his brown feet white with the chalky dust that flew up from the ground. The earth was parched, the grass brown, the trees listless, hardly stirring, waiting for a cool wind or a refreshing shower of rain. It was on such a day — a hot, tired day — that Ranji found the pool in the forest. The water had a gentle translucency, and you could see the smooth round pebbles at the bottom of the pool. A small stream emerged from a cluster of rocks to feed the pool. During the monsoon, this stream would be a gushing torrent, cascading down from the hills, but during the summer, it was barely a trickle.

The rocks, however, held the water in the pool, and it did not dry up like the pools in the plains. When Ranji saw the pool, he did not hesitate to get into it. He had often gone swimming, alone or with friends, when he had lived with his parents in a thirsty town in the middle of the Rajputana desert. There, he had known only sticky, muddy pools, where buffaloes wallowed and women washed clothes. He had never seen a pool like this — so clean and cold and inviting. He leapt into the water. His limbs were supple, free of any fat, and his dark body glistened in patches of sunlit water. The next day he came again to quench his body in the cool waters of the forest pool. He was there for almost an hour sliding in and out of the limpid green water, or lying stretched out on the smooth yellow rocks in the shade of broad-leaved sal trees. It was while he lay thus that he noticed another boy standing a little distance away, staring at him in a rather hostile manner. The other boy was a little older than Ranji — taller, thickset, with a broad nose and thick, red lips. He had only just noticed Ranji, and when Ranji did not say anything, the other called out, “What are you doing here, Mister?” Ranji, who was prepared to be friendly, was taken aback at the hostility of the other’s tone. “I am swimming,” he replied. “Why don’t you join me?” “I always swim alone,” said the other. “This is my pool; I did not invite you here.” The stranger strode up to Ranji, who still sat on the rock and, planting his broad feet firmly on the sand, said (as though this would settle the matter once and for all), “Don’t you know I am a Warrior? I do not take replies from villagers like you!” “So you like to fight with villagers?” said Ranji. “Well, I am not a villager. I am a Fighter!” “I am a Warrior!” “I am a Fighter!” They had reached an impasse. One had said he was a Warrior, the other had proclaimed himself a Fighter. There was little else that could be said. “You understand that I am a Warrior?” said the stranger, feeling that perhaps this information had not penetrated Ranji’s head. “I have heard you say it three times,” replied Ranji. “Then why are you not running away?” “I am waiting for you to run away!” “I will have to beat you,” said the stranger, assuming a violent attitude, showing Ranji the palm of his hand. “I am waiting to see you do it,” said Ranji. “You will see me do it,” said the other boy. Ranji waited. The other boy made a strange, hissing sound. They stared each other in the eye for almost a minute. Then the Warrior slapped Ranji across the face with all the force he could muster. Ranji staggered, feeling quite dizzy. There were thick red finger marks on his cheek. “There you are!” exclaimed his assailant. “Will you be off now?” For answer, Ranji swung his arm up and pushed a hard, bony fist into the other’s face. And then they were at each other’s throats, swaying on the rock, tumbling on to the sand, rolling over and over, their legs and arms locked in a desperate, violent struggle. Gasping and cursing, clawing and slapping, they rolled into the shallows of the pool. Even in the water the fight continued as, spluttering and covered with mud, they groped for each other’s head and throat. But after five minutes of frenzied, unscientific struggle, neither boy had emerged victorious. Their bodies heaving with exhaustion, they stood back from each other, making tremendous efforts to speak. “Now — now do you realise — I am a Warrior?” gasped the stranger. “Do you know I am a Fighter?” said Ranji with difficulty. They gave a moment’s consideration to each other’s answers and, in that moment of silence, there was only their heavy breathing and the rapid beating of their hearts. “Then you will not leave the pool?” said the warrior. “I will not leave it,” said Ranji. “Then we shall have to continue the fight,” said the other. “All right,” said Ranji. But neither boy moved, neither took the initiative. The warrior had an inspiration. “We will continue the fight tomorrow,” he said. “If you dare to come here again tomorrow, we will continue this fight, and I will not show you mercy as I have done today.” “I will come tomorrow,” said Ranji. “I will be ready for you.” They turned from each other then and, going to their respective rocks, put on their clothes, and left the forest by different route  s. 

Comprehension Check

 1. In what way is the forest pool different from the one which Ranji knew in the Rajputana desert? 

2. The other boy asked Ranji to ‘explain’ himself.

 (i) What did he expect Ranji to say? (ii) Was he, in your opinion, right or wrong to ask this question? 

3. Between Ranji and the other boy, who is trying to start a quarrel? Give a reason for your answer. 

4. “Then we will have to continue the fight,” said the other.

 (i) What made him say that? 

(ii) Did the fight continue? If not, why not?

     II 

• Next day the two claimants face each other across the pool.

 • They throw and counter-challenges at each other. 

• The best solution, they realise, lies not in fighting each other but fighting together for something.

 When Ranji got home, he found it difficult to explain the cuts and bruises that showed on his face, leg and arms. It was difficult to conceal the fact that he had been in an unusually violent fight, and his mother insisted on his staying at home for the rest of the day. That evening, though, he slipped out of the house and went to the bazaar, where he found comfort and solace in a bottle of vividly coloured lemonade and a banana leaf full of hot, sweet jalebis. He had just finished the lemonade when he saw his adversary coming down the road. His first impulse was to turn away and look elsewhere, his second to throw the lemonade bottle at his enemy. But he did neither of these things. Instead, he stood his ground and scowled at his passing adversary. And the warrior said nothing either but scowled back with equal ferocity. The next day was as hot as the previous one. Ranji felt weak and lazy and not at all eager for a fight. His body was stiff and sore after the previous day’s encounter. But he could not refuse the challenge. Not to turn up at the pool would be an acknowledgement of defeat. From the way he felt just then he knew he would be beaten in another fight. But he could not acquiesce in his own defeat. He must defy his enemy to the last, or outwit him, for only then could he gain his respect. If he surrendered now, he would be beaten for all time; but to fight and be beaten today left him free to fight and be beaten again. As long as he fought, he had a right to the pool in the forest. 

He was half hoping that the warrior would have forgotten the challenge, but these hopes were dashed when he saw his opponent sitting, stripped to the waist, on a rock on the other side of the pool. The warrior was rubbing oil on his body. He saw Ranji beneath the sal trees, and called a challenge across the waters of the pool. “Come over on this side and fight!” he shouted. But Ranji was not going to submit to any conditions laid down by his opponent. “Come this side and fight!” he shouted back with equal vigour. “Swim across and fight me here!” called the other. “Or perhaps you cannot swim the length of this pool?” But Ranji could have swum the length of the pool a dozen times without tiring, and here he would show the warrior his superiority. So, slipping out of his vest, he dived straight into the water, cutting through it like a knife, and surfaced with hardly a splash. The warrior’s mouth hung open in amazement. “You can dive!” he exclaimed. “It is easy,” said Ranji, treading water, waiting for a further challenge. “Can’t you dive?” “No,” said the other. “I jump straight in. But if you will tell me how, I will make a dive.” “It is easy,” said Ranji. “Stand on the rock, stretch your arms out and allow your head to displace your feet.” The warrior stood up, stiff and straight, stretched out his arms, and threw himself into the water. He landed flat on his belly, with a crash that sent the birds screaming out of the trees. Ranji dissolved into laughter.

“Are you trying to empty the pool?” he asked, as the warrior came to the surface, spouting water like a small whale. “Wasn’t it good?” asked the boy, evidently proud of his feat. “Not very good,” said Ranji. “You should have more practice. See, I will do it again.” And pulling himself up on a rock, he executed another perfect dive. The other boy waited for him to come up, but, swimming under water, Ranji circled him and came upon him from behind. “How did you do that?” asked the astonished youth. “Can’t you swim under water?” asked Ranji. “No, but I will try it.” The warrior made a tremendous effort to plunge to the bottom of the pool and indeed he thought he had gone right down, though his bottom, like a duck’s, remained above surface. Ranji, however, did not discourage him. “It was not bad,” he said. “But you need a lot of practice.” “Will you teach me?” asked his enemy. “If you like, I will teach you.” “You must teach me. If you do not teach me, I will beat you. Will you come here every day and teach me?” “If you like,” said Ranji. They had pulled themselves out of the water, and were sitting side by side on a smooth grey rock. “My name is Suraj,” said the warrior. “What is yours?” “It is Ranji.” “I am strong, am I not?” asked Suraj, bending his arm so that a ball of muscle stood up stretching the white of his flesh.” “You are strong,” said Ranji. “You are a real pahelwan.” “One day I will be the world’s champion wrestler,” said Suraj, slapping his thighs, which shook with the impact of his hand. He looked critically at Ranji’s hard, thin body. “You are quite strong yourself,” he conceded. “But you are too bony. I know, you people do not eat enough. You must come and have your food with me. I drink one seer of milk every day. We have got our own cow! Be my friend, and I will make you a pahelwan like me! I know — if you teach me to dive and swim underwater, I will make you a pahelwan! That is fair, isn’t it?” “That is fair!” said Ranji, though he doubted if he was getting the better of the exchange. Suraj put his arm around the younger boy and said, “We are friends now, yes?” They looked at each other with honest, unflinching eyes, and in that moment love and understanding were born. “We are friends,” said Ranji. The birds had settled again in their branches, and the pool was quiet and limpid in the shade of the sal trees. “It is our pool,” said Suraj. “Nobody else can come here without our permission. Who would dare?” “Who would dare?” said Ranji, smiling with the knowledge that he had won the day. 

Comprehension Check 

1. What is it that Ranji finds difficult to explain at home? 

2. Ranji sees his adversary in the bazaar. 

(i) RUSKIN BOND What does he wish to do? (ii) What does he actually do, and why?

 3. Ranji is not at all eager for a second fight. Why does he go back to the pool then. 

7. Jalebis

 I • An honest boy is on his way to school carrying money in his pocket to pay the school fees. • The sight of crisp, syrupy jalebis in the market excites him and the coins in his pocket begin to jingle. • After a long debate with himself, he yields to the sweet temptation. IT happened many years ago. I was in the fifth standard at the government school, Kambelpur, now called Atak. One day, I went to school with four rupees in my pocket to pay the school fees and the fund. When I got there I found that the teacher who collected the fees, Master Ghulam Mohammed, was on leave and so the fees would be collected the next day. All through the day the coins simply sat in my pocket, but once school got over and I was outside, they began to speak. All right. Coins don’t talk. They jingle or go khanak-khanak. But I’m telling you, that day they actually spoke! One coin said, “What are you thinking about? Those fresh, hot jalebis coming out of the kadhao in the shop over there, they’re not coming out for nothing. Jalebis are meant to be eaten and only those with money in their pocket can eat them, And money isn’t for nothing. Money is meant to be spent and only they spend it, who like jalebis.” “Look here, you four rupees, I said to them. I am a good boy. Don’t misguide me or it won’t be good for you. I get so much at home that I consider even looking at something in the bazaar a sin. Besides, you are my fees and fund money. If I spend you today, then how shall I show my face to Master Ghulam Mohammed in school tomorrow and after that to Allah miyan at Qayamat? You probably don’t know it but when Master Ghulam Mohammed gets angry and makes you stand on the bench, he simply forgets to let you sit till the last bell rings. So it’s best you stop chewing at my ears like this and let me go home straight.” The coins disliked what I’d said so much that all of them began to speak at the same time. There was such a clamour that passersby in the bazaar stared, eyes wide with surprise, at me and my pocket. The coin of those days, the wretched thing, made so much more noise too! Finally, in a panic, I grabbed all four of them and held them tight in my fist and then they were silent.

After taking a few steps, I loosened my grip. Immediately, the oldest coin said, “Here we are trying to tell you something for your own good and you try to strangle us instead. Tell me honestly now, don’t you feel like eating those hot, hot jalebis? And then, if you do end up spending us for today, won’t you get the scholarship money tomorrow? Sweets with the fees money, fees with the scholarship money. End of story! Kissa khatam, paisa hazam.” What you’re saying isn’t right, I replied, but it isn’t that wrong either. Listen. Stop blabbering and let me think. I am not a common sort of boy. But then, these jalebis are no common sort of jalebis either. They’re crisp, fresh and full of sweet syrup. My mouth watered, but I wasn’t about to be swept away so easily. In school I was among the most promising students. In the fourth standard exams, I had even won a scholarship of four rupees a month. Besides, I came from a particularly well-to-do family, so I enjoyed considerable prestige. I’d never once been beaten so far. On the contrary, Masterji had got me to beat the other boys. For a child of such status, standing there in the middle of the bazaar eating jalebis? No. It wasn’t right, I decided. I clenched the rupiyas in my fist and came home.

The coins were so keen on being spent that day, they kept up their attempts at persuasion till their voices began to choke. When I reached home and sat on the bed, they began to speak. I went inside to have lunch, they began to shriek. Thoroughly fed up, I rushed out of the house barefoot and ran towards the bazaar. Terrified I was, but quickly I told the halwai to weigh a whole rupee worth of jalebis. His astonished look seemed to be asking where I had the handcart in which I would carry all those jalebis. Those were inexpensive times. One rupee fetched more than twenty rupees does nowadays. The halwai opened up a whole newspaper and heaped a pile of jalebis on it. Comprehension Check 1. Why didn’t he pay the school fees on the day he brought money to school? 2. (i) What were the coins ‘saying’ to him? (ii) Do you think they were misguiding him? 3. Why didn’t he take the coins’ advice? Give two or three reasons. 4. (i) What did the oldest coin tell him? (ii) Did he follow his advice? If not, why not? 5. He reached home with the coins in his pocket. What happened then?

 II 

• A heap of jalebis he eats, and shares them liberally with one and all.

 • Though penniless now, he feels no less important than a mob leader.

 • The real problem at hand is payment of school fees on time.

 Just as I was gathering up the heap, in the distance I spotted our tonga. Chachajaan was returning from Court. I clutched the jalebis to my chest and ran into a gali. When I reached a safe corner, I began to devour the jalebis. I ate so many... so many jalebis that if anyone pressed my stomach a little, jalebis would have popped out of my ears and nostrils.

Very quickly, boys from the entire neighbourhood assembled in the gali. By that time I was so pleased with my stomach full of jalebis that I got into the mood for some fun. I started handing out jalebis to the children around. Delighted they ran off, jumping and screaming, into the galis. Soon a whole lot of other children appeared, probably having heard the good news from the others. I dashed to the halwai and bought one more rupee’s worth of jalebis, came back and stood on the chabutara of one of the houses, liberally distributing jalebis to the children just like the Governor saheb used to distribute rice to the poor and needy on Independence day. By now there was a huge mob of children around me. The beggars too launched an assault! If children could be elected to the Assembly, my success would have been assured that day. Because one little signal from my jalebi-wielding hand and the mob would have been willing to kill and get killed for me. I bought jalebis for the remaining two rupees as well and distributed them. Then I washed my hands and mouth at the public tap and returned home, putting on such an innocent face, as if I hadn’t even seen the hint of a jalebi all my

life. Jalebis I had gobbled up easily enough, but digesting them became another matter. With every breath came a burp, and with every burp, the danger of bringing out a jalebi or two — the fear was killing me. At night I had to eat my dinner as well. If I hadn’t eaten I would have been asked to explain why I did not want any food, and if I had pretended illness the doctor would have been summoned and if the doctor, after feeling my pulse, had declared, Munna has devoured a mound of jalebis, I would simply die. The result was that all night I lay, coiled up like a jalebi, suffering a stomach ache. Thank God I didn’t have to eat all four rupees worth of jalebis by myself. Otherwise, as they say, when children speak, flowers shower from their mouths but I would be the first child in the world with whose every word a crisp, fried jalebi would come out. Chidren don’t have stomachs, they have digestion machines. My machine too kept working right through the night. In the morning, just like any other day, I washed my face and like a virtuous student, with chalk and slate in hand, I headed for school. I knew I would get the previous month’s scholarship that day and once I’d paid the fees with that amount, the jalebis would be completely digested. But when I got to school, I found out that the scholarship was going to be paid the following month. My head started to spin. I felt as if I was standing on my head and could not get on to my feet again even if I tried. Master Ghulam Mohammed announced that the fees would be taken during the recess. When the recess bell rang, I tucked my bag under my arm and left the school and simply followed my nose, walking on and on... If no mountain or ocean blocked my path, I would have kept going till the earth ended and the sky began, and once I got there, I would say to Allah miyan. “Just this once save me. Order a farishta to pass by and drop just four rupees in my pocket. I promise I will use them only to pay my fees and not to eat jalebis.” I couldn’t reach the point where the earth ended, but definitely reached the point where the Kambelpur railway station began. The elders had warned me never to cross the railway tracks. Fine. The elders had also warned me that one must never eat sweets with one’s fees money. How did this instruction escape my mind that day? I don’t know. Comprehension Check 1. (i) Why didn’t he eat all the jalebis he had bought? (ii) What did he do with the remaining jalebis? 2. “The fear was killing me.” What was the fear? 3. “Children’s stomachs are like digestion machines.” What do you understand by that? Do you agree? 4. How did he plan to pay the fees the next day? 5. When it is time to pay the fees, what does he do? How is he disobeying the elders by doing so? III • Remorseful and scared, he prays to God for monetary help. • He makes matters look normal but prays harder than ever. • The inevitable happens, though somewhere along the way he notices the divide between the fanciful and the factual. There was a shade-giving tree beside the railway tracks. I sat under it and wondered whether there could possibly be a more unfortunate child than me in this world! When the coins had first created a racket in my pocket, the entire matter seemed so simple and straightforward. Eat jalebis with the fees money and then pay the fees with the scholarship money. I thought that two and two added up to four and could never be five. How was I to know that sometimes it added up to five as well? Had I known that I would get the scholarship the next month, I would have postponed my jalebi eating programme to the next month as well. Now for the crime of eating a few jalebis, for the first time in my life I was absent from school, and crouching in the shade of a tree in a deserted corner of the railway station. Sitting there under the tree, at first I felt like crying.

Then I felt like laughing when it struck me that the tears I was shedding were not tears but drops of jalebi syrup. From the jalebis my thoughts went to the fees, and from fees to Master Ghulam Mohammed’s cane, and from his cane I thought of God. I closed my eyes, and began to pray. ‘Allah miyan! I’m a very good boy. I have memorised the entire namaaz. I even know the last ten surats of the Quran by heart. If you wish, I can recite the entire ayat-al-kursi for you just now. The need of your devoted servant is only the fees money that I ate the jalebis with... So all right, I admit I made a mistake. I didn’t eat them all by myself, though I fed them to a whole lot of children too, but yes, it was a mistake. If I’d known the scholarship money would be given next month, I would neither have eaten them nor fed them to the others. Now you do one thing, just put four rupees in my bag. If there’s a paisa more than four ruppes I will be very displeased with you. I promise, if I ever eat sweets with my fees money again, then let a thief’s punishment be my punishment. So, Allah miyan, just this once, help me out. There is no shortage of anything in your treasury. Even our chaprasi takes a whole lot of money home every month, and Allahji, after all I am the nephew of a big officer. Won’t you give me just four rupees? After the prayer I offered namaaz, recited ten surats, ayat-alkursi, kalma-e-tayyab, in fact everything that I remembered. Then I blew over my bag saying Choo. Then, after saying bismillah, I realised that what 

they said was only too true — no one can erase what fate has decreed. Forget four rupees, there weren’t even four paise in my bag. Just a few textbooks and notebooks. One pencil. One sharpener. One Id card my Mamu had sent me last Id. I felt like crying as loudly as I could, but then I remembered that school must have ended and the children must be on their way home. Tired and defeated, I got up from there and walked to the bazaar and waited for the school bell to ring, so that when the children came out I too would walk home with them as if I had come straight from school. I didn’t even realise that I was standing near the jalebiwala’s shop. Suddenly, the halwai called out, “Kyon bhai, shall I weigh a rupee’s worth? Don’t want jalebis today?” I felt like saying I won’t eat your jalebis today but, I’d sure like to roast your liver and eat that instead. But I wasn’t feeling too well that day, so I simply moved away. The next day I did the same thing. I got dressed and left home, went up to the school gate and then turned off to the railway station. Under the same tree I sat and began to say the same prayers. I repeatedly pleaded, Allah miyan! At least give it to me today. Today is the second day. Then I said, “All right come, let’s play a game. I will go from here to that signal. You secretly place four rupees under this big rock. I will touch the signal and come back. What fun it will be if I pick up the rock and find four rupees underneath! So, are you ready? I am going towards the signal. One-two-three.” I went up to the signal and returned, smiling. But I could not find the courage to pick up the rock. What if the coins were not there? But then, I thought, what if they were? Finally after saying bismillah, when I lifted up the rock, this big hairy worm got up, and curling and twisting wriggled towards me. I screamed and ran away and once again touched the signal. Then, they said was only too true — no one can erase what fate has decreed. Forget four rupees, there weren’t even four paise in my bag. Just a few textbooks and notebooks. One pencil. One sharpener. One Id card my Mamu had sent me last Id.

I felt like crying as loudly as I could, but then I remembered that school must have ended and the children must be on their way home. Tired and defeated, I got up from there and walked to the bazaar and waited for the school bell to ring, so that when the children came out I too would walk home with them as if I had come straight from school.

I didn’t even realise that I was standing near the jalebiwala’s shop. Suddenly, the halwai called out, “Kyon bhai, shall I weigh a rupee’s worth? Don’t want jalebis today?”

I felt like saying I won’t eat your jalebis today but, I’d sure like to roast your liver and eat that instead. But I wasn’t feeling too well that day, so I simply moved away.

The next day I did the same thing. I got dressed and left home, went up to the school gate and then turned off to the railway station. Under the same tree I sat and began to say the same prayers. I repeatedly pleaded, Allah miyan! At least give it to me today. Today is the second day.

Then I said, “All right come, let’s play a game. I will go from here to that signal. You secretly place four rupees under this big rock. I will touch the signal and come back. What fun it will be if I pick up the rock and find four rupees underneath! So, are you ready? I am going towards the signal. One-two-three.”

I went up to the signal and returned, smiling. But I could not find the courage to pick up the rock. What if the coins were not there? But then, I thought, what if they were?

Finally after saying bismillah, when I lifted up the rock, this big hairy worm got up, and curling and twisting wriggled towards me. I screamed and ran away and once again touched the signal. Then,

crawling on my hands and knees, I reached the tree. I tried my best not to let my eyes stray towards the rock. But as I picked up my bag and was about to leave, I had to look once again at the rock, and do you know what I saw there? I saw Mr Worm coiled on it comfortably, staring at me. I walked away thinking, tomorrow I will do wazu, wear clean clothes and come here. From morning to noon I will keep reading the namaaz. If, even after that, Allah doesn’t give me four rupees, I will be forced to learn how to strike bargains or make deals with Him. After all, if my Allah does not give me my four rupees then who will? That day, when I returned home, apparently from school and actually from the railway station, I was caught. The report of my absence had reached home. It’s useless to relate what happened after that. Well, whatever happened, happened. But up to the seventh or eighth standard I kept wondering, if Allah miyan had sent me four rupees that day, what harm could it have possibly caused anyone? It was only later that I came to the conclusion that if Allah miyan were to provide all for the asking, then man would, even today, be living in nests like vultures and crows and would not have learnt the art of making jalebis!

Comprehension Check 

1. What was the consequence of buying jalebis with the fees money? 

2. His prayer to God is like a lawyer’s defence of a bad case. Does he argue his case well? What are the points he makes? 

3. He offers to play a game with Allah Miyan. What is the game? 

4. Did he get four rupees by playing the game? What did he get to see under the rock? 

5. If God had granted his wish that day, what harm would it have caused him in later life? Work in small groups.

 1. Select and read sentences that show • that the boy is tempted to eat jalebis. • that he is feeling guilty. Exercise • that he is justifying a wrong deed. 2. Discuss the following points. • Is the boy intelligent? If so, what is the evidence of it? • Does his outlook on the jalebis episode change after Class VIII? Does he see that episode in a new light? • Why are coins made to ‘talk’ in this story? What purpose does it serve? Think it Over • I do not feel obliged to believe that the same God who has endowed us with senses, reason and intellect has intended us to forgo their use and by some other means to give us knowledge which we can attain by them. J Jalebis