Historical fiction; India -- History -- 19th century -- Fiction; Thugs (Indic criminal group) -- Fiction
"You and your master may be the portion of the devil," said the old
merchant; "ever since I have entered the territories of the Nizam, I
have been treated in this manner. But it is only what I have heard
before; not a night have I passed without an alarm of thieves; and
God knows, if I had any protection, I would rather lie outside your
wretched walls, than in the zenana of your amil himself. Your bunneas
are rascals: I am refused grain at nearly double the price I paid
yesterday; I am refused shelter at night. In God's name, what am I to
do? Gentlemen," cried he to us, "what am I to do?"
Bhudrinath answered, as I was going to speak, and, to my astonishment,
angrily. "What would you have? O discontented man! I suppose some place
has been offered to you, and you have thought it not good enough; or
are you drunk with opium? or has hunger after your journey spoilt your
temper? Go, betake yourself to the bazar; be thankful that you can get
any place; and, if no one will shelter you, lie in the street; bethink
yourself that many a better man has done so before you."
The man stood aghast: he looked first at us, then at the kotwal and his
men, while expressions of delight at his discomfiture ran through the
kotwal's party: "Well said!" "Proper fellows!" "He ought to be turned
out of the village," &c. At last, without saying a word, he threw down
his turban and ran out, bellowing as loud as he could. We all burst
into a hearty fit of laughter.
"That is a queer fellow," said I to the kotwal; "I doubt not you have
often such to plague you; but send for him back, we will make him
ashamed of himself, and I will beg you to give him a place to stay in."
"As you will," replied he; "but for your intercession I should not have
troubled myself about him. Many such have I to deal with. One day a
fellow comes swearing he is cheated by every one; another, that he can
get nothing to eat, when perhaps both are too stingy to buy; another,
that he has no shelter, when he will not pay the trifle demanded by the
bunnea for the use of his shop. Again, a third must have every delicacy
to be found in a city, and he is furious because he cannot get them;
when, if they were all before him, he could not afford to buy one. In
short, sirs, there is no end to the fancies, foolishnesses, and, I may
say, tyranny, of travellers, and who think me, I suppose, to possess
superhuman power, and to have jins (genii) at my command, to bring them
whatever their foolish ideas may desire."
"You have indeed no easy situation, and to please every one is
impossible," said I; "but here comes the merchant,"--and he entered.
"Take up your turban, good fellow," said the kotwal, "and do not be
angry; you are no child to be quarrelling with decent people. Have you
never travelled before, that you should be angry and throw dust on our
beards in this manner? In God's name, take up your turban; and do some
one of you go and see that the good man gets a place for himself."
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
Reviews
Reviews
No reviews yet
Be the first to share your thoughts on this work.
Elsewhere in the archive
Join the Discussion
Join the discussion
Sign in to leave a comment or review.
Sign InorCreate an account