The Gandhian Adventures of Raj & Iqbal: A Novel by Zubin J. Shroff
Authors: Zubin J. Shroff
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will be no problem at all, said Shamoo, we will eat while sitting on the floor, and we will sleep by placing the bedrolls on the floor, and it will be like we are not even there.
But what will I tell my wife? I said with annoyance. How to explain you two buggers eating and sleeping on my floor suddenly?
That is your problem, said Bhatkoo.
No, I said loudly, it is your problem as well. My wife is a smart woman, and some weak story will not pass muster in my flat. If the story is not strong, she will ultimately find out the truth, and more than likely I will be beaten and you both will be arrested and all the boats will be intercepted by the Coast Guard tomorrow night.
This seemed to worry Bhatkoo and Shamoo, and they looked at each other and then at Iqbal and then at me and then at the ground and then up at the darkening sky. At this point they could have easily made threats of violence, but since they did not, I understood that these people were not violent sorts and would not try any kind of strong-arm tactics. Perhaps Netaji was correct when he said that one could say he too is a Gandhian.
Never mind it then, said Bhatkoo with a defeated sound in his voice, we will both sleep on the road outside your building tonight.
But then my Gandhian heart became a little bit soft and I shook my head.
No, I said, that will not do. If we are all to risk life and dryness together on the Arabian Seas tomorrow night, then it is only right that you sleep comfortably inside my flat tonight. I will make up some story, and if I get some beatings, then I will take them like a Gandhian.
At hearing this, Bhatkoo looked at me with a respect that I had not seen in his previous expressions that day towards me, and I thought that perhaps I had won him over with my staunch adherence to the Gandhian principle of staunch adherence. After all, did Gandhiji himself not say (and he may not have, since there is no written record of it) that first they will laugh at you, and then you will win?
20
B ut victory was not to be won so easily by me, even though there had been no shortage of people who had laughed at me on this first day of our Gandhian adventures. The wife was not happy to see me come late, and as she began to shout at me for causing her some worry, she noticed the unannounced house guests and so she had to put on a smiley face and pull back her shouting, which made her more angry in the way that only I can tell. And in all this I had not even thought of a good story to tell her, but that is just as well, because who am I to think I can get away with lying to my dearest wife? I cannot, and so I subconsciously knew it is better to not say anything than to say something that is not true, because the latter way will lead only to shoutings and beatings for me. And so I was concise and business-like in my dealings with dearest wife that night.
It is an important matter of business, I told her privately in the kitchen, and I cannot explain it all currently because it is complicated.
So I am a simpleton wife who cannot understand complicated matters of business, is it? she asked me.
No baby, I said, you know that it is me who is the simpleton in this family, and so it will give me a headache to try and explain it, and even if I explained it, it is not so interesting and you will possibly fall asleep while I explain, and I do not want you to fall asleep so quickly tonight, baby.
Why not, she said with a smile.
You know why not, I said with a smile and a nudge.
But what of your business colleagues, she asked, what if they hear us?
We will keep the TV on in the bedroom and they will not hear anything, I said.
The wife giggled and pushed me out of the kitchen, and I went back to the living room pleased at my double-victory. Not only had I handled the Bhatkoo-Shamoo situation without too much falsehood, but I would also be getting little bit of bedroom action. Good, I thought, because perhaps this will be the last time I see my beloved
But what will I tell my wife? I said with annoyance. How to explain you two buggers eating and sleeping on my floor suddenly?
That is your problem, said Bhatkoo.
No, I said loudly, it is your problem as well. My wife is a smart woman, and some weak story will not pass muster in my flat. If the story is not strong, she will ultimately find out the truth, and more than likely I will be beaten and you both will be arrested and all the boats will be intercepted by the Coast Guard tomorrow night.
This seemed to worry Bhatkoo and Shamoo, and they looked at each other and then at Iqbal and then at me and then at the ground and then up at the darkening sky. At this point they could have easily made threats of violence, but since they did not, I understood that these people were not violent sorts and would not try any kind of strong-arm tactics. Perhaps Netaji was correct when he said that one could say he too is a Gandhian.
Never mind it then, said Bhatkoo with a defeated sound in his voice, we will both sleep on the road outside your building tonight.
But then my Gandhian heart became a little bit soft and I shook my head.
No, I said, that will not do. If we are all to risk life and dryness together on the Arabian Seas tomorrow night, then it is only right that you sleep comfortably inside my flat tonight. I will make up some story, and if I get some beatings, then I will take them like a Gandhian.
At hearing this, Bhatkoo looked at me with a respect that I had not seen in his previous expressions that day towards me, and I thought that perhaps I had won him over with my staunch adherence to the Gandhian principle of staunch adherence. After all, did Gandhiji himself not say (and he may not have, since there is no written record of it) that first they will laugh at you, and then you will win?
20
B ut victory was not to be won so easily by me, even though there had been no shortage of people who had laughed at me on this first day of our Gandhian adventures. The wife was not happy to see me come late, and as she began to shout at me for causing her some worry, she noticed the unannounced house guests and so she had to put on a smiley face and pull back her shouting, which made her more angry in the way that only I can tell. And in all this I had not even thought of a good story to tell her, but that is just as well, because who am I to think I can get away with lying to my dearest wife? I cannot, and so I subconsciously knew it is better to not say anything than to say something that is not true, because the latter way will lead only to shoutings and beatings for me. And so I was concise and business-like in my dealings with dearest wife that night.
It is an important matter of business, I told her privately in the kitchen, and I cannot explain it all currently because it is complicated.
So I am a simpleton wife who cannot understand complicated matters of business, is it? she asked me.
No baby, I said, you know that it is me who is the simpleton in this family, and so it will give me a headache to try and explain it, and even if I explained it, it is not so interesting and you will possibly fall asleep while I explain, and I do not want you to fall asleep so quickly tonight, baby.
Why not, she said with a smile.
You know why not, I said with a smile and a nudge.
But what of your business colleagues, she asked, what if they hear us?
We will keep the TV on in the bedroom and they will not hear anything, I said.
The wife giggled and pushed me out of the kitchen, and I went back to the living room pleased at my double-victory. Not only had I handled the Bhatkoo-Shamoo situation without too much falsehood, but I would also be getting little bit of bedroom action. Good, I thought, because perhaps this will be the last time I see my beloved
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