Fiction
I
happened to be in Kerala when the news of Cherian’s murder reached me. Cherian was what I would call a friend of
mine when I was working as a teacher in Assam.
It took some time for me to realise that he had not considered me a
friend, however. For him I was a kind of
entertainment. He loved to call me to
the residential school of which he was the proprietor, director, manager and
principal. He would give me brandy to
drink and food to eat. And even a place
to sleep if I wished not to go back home.
I had none waiting for me at home and hence could spend the night
anywhere. I was a gypsy of sorts who
considered it the sign of an intellectual to claim a cosmopolitan nomadism for
one’s identity. Cherian thought I was a
like a buffoon in a circus troupe: born to entertain, though I perceived myself
a very serious thinker, a philosopher, and even an intellectual. I put the intellectual at a higher level
because the intellectual thinks he has a duty to save the world while the
others in the list are less harmful. Entertainment is sure to follow when there is
such a contradiction in perceptions. Cherian
entertained himself with the buffoonery that emanated copiously from a
personality that was not restrained by any sense of social niceties. I was, on the other hand, under the
impression that jettisoning social niceties was the ultimate sign of the
intellectual.
Life
teaches us lessons the hard way when we refuse or fail to learn those lessons
from parents, teachers, religion, and other easy sources of facile wisdom. Cherian was one of the many people who taught
me those lessons eventually. They taught
me that life was a very serious affair and I could not sail through it with the
facile mirth of a moron playing in a rubber coracle watched over by parents
standing on the side of the shallow pool. By the time I learnt those lessons I had
become such a laughing stock in the town that I thought it wise to put into
practice my cosmopolitan nomadism and I migrated to Delhi.
While
I perceived myself as the intellectual with the potential to provide all kinds
of panacea for the world’s ills, people like Cherian acted as the Messiahs who redeemed
the souls of people like me. That’s why
the news of Cherian’s murder made me shudder.
He was killed by one of his workers, James told me.
Bejoy,
the worker, was from Assam. He had come
to Kerala along with many others from his native land in search of jobs. It was not only Cherian’s knowledge of
Assamese but also Bejoy’s nature that brought the young man closer to
Cherian. Bejoy was a soul to be redeemed
in Cherian’s Messianic vision. “Bejoy
was what you would describe as amoral,” said James. He was innocent and crude, like children who
were not brought up properly. He loved
the earth and was earthy. Nothing beyond
the earth mattered to him.
“He
had some notions about god, however,” James went on. His father had taught him that their tribe
had descended directly from some God.
The tribe’s celestial flight had descended in Varanasi. But they soon found out that the flight had
landed on a wrong turf and started moving northwards. Later many kings and conquerors expanded
their kingdoms and drove the tribal people more and more towards north and
pushed them uphill.
So,
Bejoy is a nomad by the legacy of his tribe, I mused.
“Bejoy’s
father had taught him that their people were always pushed around by someone or
another,” James was telling me. First
the God, then the various kings, followed by whom they later called the
plainspeople. Then came new kings like
tea estate owners, oil diggers and business people all of whom had much to take
away from the land and gave little in return.
Bejoy’s
people adapted themselves to their new worlds as they descended on them. “Probably they became meek and submissive in the process,”
said James.
“But
there has been a lot of militancy among the tribal people in Assam in the last
three decades,” I pointed out.
“True. But militants form a tiny fraction of any
community. What about the majority?”
James
contended that the majority of people are peace lovers. “Who creates strife, riots and wars? A handful of people with political ambitions
or those with criminal proclivities. The
majority want to live in peace. That’s why
they keep moving away from disturbances.
Look at the number of Assamese tribal people in Kerala. You’d be amazed to see them even in the
remote villages of Kerala doing all sorts of works.”
Bejoy
was rather peculiar, said James. He did
not differentiate between good and evil.
People are what they are because they are born as what they are. A man does not become a wanderer; he is born
a wanderer. Thieves are born. So are saints.
Some people may pretend to be religious but may be thieves. Some may pretend to be atheists but may be
deeply spiritual.
“Did
Bejoy say such things?” I was surprised.
“Oh
no. I’m describing it in my own words
based on my observations of Bejoy and what Cherian told me occasionally.”
“Why
did he kill Cherian?” I was more interested in that.
“Yes,
let me come to that. Cherian turned to
religion towards the end of his stay in Assam.
He began to interpret the Bible rather literally and thought that the
Armageddon was at hand. He viewed
Islamic terrorism and American counterterrorism as the final war between evil
and good.” James paused and then said in
a low voice, “People say that Cherian was getting funds from America to set up
his new church.”
“New
church?”
“Yes,
he founded a new church when he reached Kerala having sold his school in
Assam. The Church of Revelation, he
called it. He built a huge church
building and gathered quite a lot of followers too. Again, people say that he bought the
followers with American money.”
“Where
does Bejoy enter this story?” I was becoming impatient.
“Bejoy
did not become a member of Cherian’s church much as he was persuaded to. If you believe in god, you’ll have to believe
in the devil too, he said something like that.”
“Amazing,”
I blurted out. “You remember Zorba, the
Kazantzakis character?” I knew that James was familiar with the novel.
“I
knew you would get that parallel. Yes,
Bejoy was somewhat like Zorba; he had an instinctual dislike of all theories
and theologies. People should not
pervert themselves with such things, he seemed to think.”
“You understand things, that’s your problem,”
I remembered Zorba telling his master. “If you did not understand so much you’d see
things more clearly.”
“Bejoy
was not happy with the way Cherian was expanding his church. Cherian was buying up more and more
land. It was something like the
conquests made by the old kings. But the
problem seems to have risen when Cherian wanted to buy up one particular plot
of land whose owner was not willing to sell it however high a price Cherian
would offer. John, the old man, lived
alone in a house on that plot. His
children are all in America and they never visit him. Cherian seems to have tried all kinds of
strategies, tricks and knavery to persuade John to shift to another place. The old man did not budge. A few months back he was found dead in his
house. It was taken as natural death. A few days after the death Cherian’s
bulldozer entered the plot.”
“Ok,
but...”
“I
know you’re impatient to know about why Bejoy killed Cherian. It seems Bejoy knew something about John’s
death that nobody else knew. It was not
a natural death probably.”
“You
mean... He was done in?”
“I’m
not sure. But something went wrong
between Cherian and Bejoy a few days back.
Cherian’s servants, none of whom understand Assamese, say that there was
a loud argument in which John’s name was mentioned a number of times and
Cherian pulled out a pistol from somewhere.
The sight of the pistol infuriated Bejoy. He snarled at Cherian like an enraged animal
and sprang on him before he could even realise what was happening. It was Bejoy who pulled the trigger.”
“No
one knows why?”
“The
police will find out, let’s hope. But
somebody translated what Bejoy said as he was taken away by the police. He said pointing at Cherian’s dead body, ‘He died because he taught me morality.’”
Is amorality better than morality? Is the pristine innocence of the primitive superior to the religion of the civilised? Your story raises a very important question.
ReplyDeleteHow many of the people who claim to be civilised are really civilised? That's also a question I'm raising. Is religion a part of the outer behaviour or the inner spirit? Is the atheist more spiritual than the religious like Cherian? Yes, I've raised a helluva lot of questions in this.
DeleteA 7 year old son dies. The grief stricken young, widow-mother loses her heart, hope and will to live.. for whom, for what? she asks. Her teacher consoles her,make her forget herself in books and she clears exams after exams , becomes a primary teacher, teach young kids, finds her son's face in all and .... one day kidnaps a handicap one from them ! reason - she thought 'her' better suited financially and mentally to provide for him, to love him better than his real parents !
ReplyDeletewhat happened next and rest is irrelevant.... Morality...?
What is morality? Very difficult to answer, Kokila. That's why I put it up in the form of a story. What the protagonist, Bejoy, means by his last statement is that there would have been more 'joy' in the world without the kind of morality practised generally.
DeleteHm.. I emphasize the same.. In the incident I posted, the mother was supposedly a 'moral' ,righteous,very religious and all.... like Cherian , she too believed in black n white with no place for grey and was 'helping' the blackness to attain whiteness .. difference is her deeds were discernible , his needs looking deep...twisted apparent morality.
DeleteSuch a mystery - he died because he taught me morality...
ReplyDeleteNimi, let me help you. The morality of people like Cherian (most people, for that matter) polarises good and evil. They make neat compartments. For a person like Bejoy the grey area is what's real. When he learnt the morality of Cherian's kind, he understands that Cherian is evil and does not deserve to live.
DeleteThank u :)
DeletePeople who understand about creating balance and who understand that 'grey' is the truth, they don't usually have the strength to take extreme steps... that's why the the 'black' voices are usually the loudest.
How much of it, if at all, is autobiographical... just wondering :)
ReplyDeleteThat's one question I won't answer, Nimi. :)
DeleteDeep and reflective
ReplyDeleteI know, Chaitali. I was hesitant to put it up in the blog. But the response has been encouraging.
DeleteThe deep darker part inside us humans or should I say moral beings is pretty scary. Sitting now and thinking again and again about the last line.
ReplyDeleteI know Athena that the line will hit every reader like a punch on the nose. I have wondered time and again whether we don't deserve some such punches. When are we going to realise the hypocrisy of our moral systems?
DeleteWe surely do need those punches and that too right on our nose so that we freeze and think and make the changes required.
DeleteIt made me think what is Morality?
ReplyDeleteAll of us possess some sense of morality, Meenal. Religions and such systems make neat compartments for virtues and vices and force them on us. Problems begin there. Soon we learn that the religious systems are no less political in motives than the actual political systems. So what's morality? Sustaining and upholding the power of the ruling class!
DeleteKudos to you for writing such a piece !! all I can say...
ReplyDeleteThanks, Maniparna.
DeleteI have a certain regard for the Bejoys of the world, and a lack of it for the "preachers" of "morality". There's a kind of hypocrisy among the preachers. That's all I'll say for now. Another good read. And I wonder how much of it is fiction? :)
ReplyDeleteMost of it is fiction, Sreesha, in case you mean how of it actually happened the way I've written here.
DeleteAmazing--and a true story at that!
ReplyDeleteWhat goes round comes round.
Come on, Indu, nowhere have I said it's a true story! But it is all TRUE, truer than the absolute truths in the scriptures!
DeleteBrilliant! Poignant and profound..
ReplyDeleteThanks, Amit.
DeleteOne of the best story Matheikal.. For my interpretation as of now Cherian was murdered by himself, n his blind beliefs.. !! But I will keep on thinking.. Amazing.. you should probably come up with a book of such profound stories :)
ReplyDeleteI'm seriously considering that, Roohi. I'm even thinking of retiring from teaching and being a full time writer. But those who know me personally suggest against it: they think I'm a better teacher than a writer :)
Delete:) I think you can be both.. You already write while being a teacher.. just need to devote little more time in getting this published.. I would hav done that had I been in ur place :P Sadly, I don't write that much..
DeleteOne thing I know is there are enough crap/masala books being published these days.. You write what should be read.. :)
DeleteThank you, Roohi. The encouragement does matter.
Delete