An Astrologers Day and Other Stories Part 25

I dont know driving, I said.

And unless you care to do it I dont see how the vehicle can move.

Me !

exclaimed Doss.

These new carriages !

G.o.d knows what they are drawn by, I never understand, though I could handle a pair of bullocks quite well in my time. May I ask a question ?

Go on, I said.

Where is everybody ?

Who ?

Lots of people I knew are not to be seen at all.

All sorts of new fellows everywhere, and n.o.body seems to care. Not a soul comes near the temple. All sorts of people go about but not one who cares to stop and talk to me. Why doesnt the king ever come this way ? He used to go this way at least once a year before.

Which king ?

I asked.

Let me go, you idiot, said Doss, edging towards the door on which I was leaning.

You dont seem to know anything. He pushed me aside, and got down from the car. He stopped as if he had a big hump on his back, and hobbled along towards the temple. I followed him, hardly knowing what to do.

He turned and snarled at me : Go away, leave me alone. I have had enough of you.

What has come over you, Doss ?

I asked.

Who is Doss, anyway ? Doss, Doss, Doss. What an absurd name ! Gall me by my name or leave me alone. Dont follow me calling Doss, Doss.

What is your name ?

I asked.

160 OLD MAN OF THE TEMPLE.

Krishna Battar ; and if you go and mention my name people will know who it is for a hundred miles around. I built a temple where there was only a cactus field before I dug the earth, made every brick with my own hands and put them one upon another, all single-handed. And on the day the temple held up its tower over the surrounding country, what a crowd gathered ! The king sent his chief minister .

Who was the king ?

Where do you come from ?

he asked.

I belong to these parts certainly, but as far as I know there has been only a Collector at the head of the district. I have never heard of any king.

Hi ! Hi ! Hi !

he cackled, and his voice rang through the gloomy silent village.

Fancy never knowing the king ! He will behead you ifhe hears it.

What is his name ?

I asked.

This tickled him so much that he sat down on the ground, unable to stand (literally) the joke any more.

He laughed and coughed uncontrollably.

I am unhappy to admit, I said,

that my parents have brought me up in such utter ignorance of worldly affairs that I dont know even my king. But wont you enlighten me ? What is his name ?

Vishnu Varma, the Emperor of emperors .

I cast my mind up and down the range of my historical knowledge but there was no one of that name. Perhaps a local chief of pre-British days, I thought.

What a king ! He often visited my temple or sent his minister for the Annual Festival of the temple.

But now n.o.body cares.

People are becoming less G.o.dly nowadays, I said.

There was silence for a moment. An idea occurred OLD MAN OF THE TEMPLE 161 to me, I cant say why. Listen to me, I said.

You ought not to be here any more.

What do you mean ?

he asked, drawing himself up proudly.

Dont feel hurt ; I say you shouldnt be here any more because you are dead.

Dead ! Dead !

he said.

Dont talk nonsense.

How can I be dead when you see me before you now ?

If I am dead how can I be saying this and that ?

I dont know all that, I said. I argued and pointed out that according to his own story he was more than three hundred years old, and didnt he know that mans longevity was only a hundred ? He constantly interrupted me, but considered deeply what I said.

He said :

It is like this. I was coming through the jungle one night after visiting my sister in the next village. I had on me some money and gold ornaments. Some robbers set upon me. I gave them as good a fight as any man could, but they were too many for me. They beat me down and knifed me ; they took away all that I had on me and left thinking they had killed me. But soon I was up and tried to follow them. They were gone. And I returned to the temple and have been here since .

I told him, Krishna Batta, you are dead, absolutely dead. You must try and go away from here.

What is to happen to the temple ?

he asked.

Others will look after it.

Where am I to go ? Where am I to go ?

Have you no one who cares for you ?

I asked.

None except my wife. I loved her very much.

You can go to her.

Oh, no. She died four years ago .

162 OLD MAN OF THE TEMPLE.

Four years ! It was very puzzling.

Do you say four years back from now ?