Read this story, ‘Subhagi’, to know Premchand the feminist and supporter of inter-caste marriage!
Subhagi (सुà¤ागी)
Whatever others might
be doing, Tulsi Mehto loved his daughter Subhagi not a bit less than he loved his son
Ramu. Although grown up, Ramu remained a wooden owl. But Subhagi was so clever
at household work and such an accomplished farm hand that her mother, Lakshsmi,
feared gods might not cast their evil eyes on her. Even God loved good
children. To prevent people from praising Subhagi she would, off and on, find
fault with her. She did not fear that Subhagi would be spoiled by praise but
she feared the evil eye. The same Subhagi had now become a widow at eleven.
The whole house fell
into disarray. Lakshami was falling down unconscious. Tulsi was beating his
head. Watching them Subhagi also cried. She repeatedly said to her mother, ‘Stop
crying, I won’t desert you.’ Her mother's heart was bursting listening to
Subhagi’s naïve talk. She wondered: O God, You play strange games, inflicting
pain on others like this. Only a mad person does this. If a man goes mad he is
sent to the madhouse. But there is no punishment for Your madness. Why play
games that amuse You but hurt others? People call You compassionate. And this
is Your compassion!
And what was Subhagi
thinking? Had she a hoard of money, she would hide it somewhere. And then one
day she would go to the market and buy good clothes for amma. And if dada came to
ask for money to pay off a debt she would quickly take out some and give it to him. How happy
they would be!
2
As Subhagi grew into
adulthood people started urging Tulsi Mehto to marry her off. It wasn’t proper
to let a young girl move around like this. When their community did not object
to remarriage why should he hesitate?
Tulsi replied, ‘I’m
ready, but Subhagi isn’t willing at all.’
Harihar said to her, ‘Beti, we’re saying all this for your own
good. Your parents are old. How long would they live? You can’t go on like this
for ever.’
Subhagi replied, with
her head bowed down, ‘Chacha, I
understand what you say. But my heart is not in marriage. I don’t think of my
own life. I can face anything. Ask me anything else, and I shall do it willingly, but don't ask me to marry. And
if you ever find me going astray, cut my head off. If I’m my own father’s daughter, I shall stay
firm in my resolve. But it is for God to protect my honour. Who am I to make such claims?
Ramu spoke out rudely,
‘If you think I shall toil to feed you for your life time you’re mistaken. I’m
under no obligation to feed you for a life time.’
Ramu’s wife went two fingers higher. With a swagger she said, ‘We aren’t under any obligation to feed you for a life
time. Here you want to eat well, you want to dress well. This is beyond our means.'
Subhagi replied in a voice full of pride, ‘Bhabi, I have
never sought your protection, and, God willing, I shall never do so in future.
Take care of yourself, and don’t worry about me.’
When Ramu’s wife
realized that Subhagi won’t marry and go away, she started nagging her, accusing her of something or the other. It was as if she enjoyed hurting her. Subhagi would
get up early in the morning and get busy pounding-grinding, cooking-washing,
making dung cakes, and then she would go and work in the field. She would come
back in the afternoon and cook for everyone and feed them. At night she would
oil her mother’s head and massage her body. Tulsi loved to smoke his chillum
and she would keep filling it. She would try her utmost not to make her parents
work. But she wouldn’t spare her brother. He was young and if he did not work
how would the household run.
But Ramu did not like
that Subhagi should let amma and dada sit idle and force him to work. So
much so that one day he burst out. He said to Subhagi: ‘If you love them so
much, go and start living with them apart from us. Only then you will realize
whether serving someone was a pleasure or pain. To earn praise by living on
others’ toil is easy. He alone is brave who lives on his own labour.’
Subhagi didn’t answer
back, fearing that things would come to a breaking point. But their parents
were listening. Mehto couldn’t control himself. He said, ‘Ramu, why’re you
quarrelling with that poor girl?’
Ramu came close to him
and said, ‘Why’re you jumping in? I’m talking to her.’
Tulsi retorted, ‘So
long as I am alive you can’t speak to her like this. After me you can do
whatever you like. You have made her life hell.’
Ramu said, ‘If you love
your daughter so much, tie her round your neck. I can’t stand her any more.’
Tulsi said, ‘All right,
if this is what you want, so be it. Tomorrow I shall call the village elders
and ask for division. I’m willing to lose you but not Subhagi.’
At night when Tulsi lay
down to sleep he remembered something. When Ramu was born he had borrowed money
to celebrate, but when Subhagi was born he had not spent a penny even though he
was not short of money. He had regarded the son as a diamond and the daughter
as a punishment for their sins in the previous life. And now the diamond had
proved too hard and the punishment so propitious!
3
The next day Mehto
called the villagers in and said, ‘Members of panchayat, now I and Ramu cannot
live together. I want you to make a just division and allocate me whatever is
my share. I can’t stand the daily bickering anymore.’
The village headman,
Babu Sajan Singh was a sensible person.
He spoke to Ramu, ‘Tell me, do you want to break with your father?
Aren’t you ashamed to break with your parents just because your wife wants it?
O God!’
Ram replied brazenly,
‘When you can’t live together, it’s better to part.’
‘What’s your problem
living together?’
‘There’re many.’
‘Tell me something.’
‘In one word. I can’t
live with them. That’s all I know.’
Saying this Ramu walked
away.
Tulsi said, ‘Look at
his temper! You may allocate him three-fourths of what we have, but I can’t
live with this wretched fellow. God has been unkind to my daughter; otherwise I
won’t have cared about the land. I could have managed to live by my labour
anywhere. Such a son shouldn’t be born even to one's worst enemy. A caring
daughter is far better than such a son.’
Suddenly Subhagi
arrived at the scene. She said, ‘Dada, I’m the root cause of this division. Why
don’t you let me live separately? I’ll live by my labour and help you as far as I can. But
I shall live alone. I can’t stand this division of the family. I can’t live with
this blot on my name.’
Tulsi said, ‘Daughter,
we won’t let you go, even if we lose our life. I don’t want even to see Ramu’s
face. Living with him is out of the question.’
Ramu’s wife retorted,
‘If you don’t want to see our faces, we too aren’t dying to serve you.’
Mehto, gnashing his
teeth, rose to thrash his daughter-in-law but people stopped him.
4
After the division
Lakshmi and Mehto became pensioners, as if. Before this, in spite Subhagi’s
protests, they would keep doing something or the other but now they were fully at
leisure. Before this they used to crave for ghee and milk. Now Subhagi had
purchased a buffalo after saving some money. Good food is the lifeblood of old
people. If they have to go without good
food life doesn’t mean much. Mehto opposed the purchase saying that she was
overburdening herself with this additional work. Subhagi put him off saying, 'Dada, I don't enjoy my food without milk.'
Lakshmi said, laughing, ‘Beti, don’t tell lies. You don’t even touch milk and force us to drink all.’
Lakshmi said, laughing, ‘Beti, don’t tell lies. You don’t even touch milk and force us to drink all.’
In the village everyone
praised Subhagi. She is not a woman but a goddess. She works like two men, and
more than that, she takes care of her parents.
However, Mehto was not
destined to enjoy this happy existence for long.
He had been down with fever for more than a week. He didn’t allow even a thin layer of clothing on his body. Lakshmi was sitting beside him crying. Subhagi was also there holding a pot of water. A moment ago he had asked for water, but just as she had brought it, Mehto’s heart had sunk and his body had gone cold. Realizing this grave situation, Subhagi ran to Ramu’s house and said, ‘Bhaiyya, come and see, dada’s condition is very serious. He has been down with fever for a week.’
He had been down with fever for more than a week. He didn’t allow even a thin layer of clothing on his body. Lakshmi was sitting beside him crying. Subhagi was also there holding a pot of water. A moment ago he had asked for water, but just as she had brought it, Mehto’s heart had sunk and his body had gone cold. Realizing this grave situation, Subhagi ran to Ramu’s house and said, ‘Bhaiyya, come and see, dada’s condition is very serious. He has been down with fever for a week.’
Ramu, who was lying on
his cot, said, ‘Am I a doctor-hakim that I should go and see him? So long as he was hale
and hearty you were hanging round his neck like a garland, and now when he is
dying you have come to me.’
Just
then Ramu’s wife came out and asked, ‘What’s wrong with dada, bibi?’
Even before Subhagi
could speak Ramu spoke out, ‘Oh nothing. He’s not dying.’
Subhagi said nothing.
She went straight to Sajan Singh. After she was gone, Ramu said to his wife
laughing, ‘This is what you call female trickery.’
‘What trickery? Why
don’t to go?’
‘I won’t go. Let them
manage on their own. I won’t go even if he dies.’
His wife said laughing,
‘If he dies you will have to light his pyre. You won’t be able to run away
then.’
‘Never. His beloved
Subhagi would have to do everything.’
‘Why would she do it
when you’re there?’
‘Because he broke with
me, preferring her to me.’
‘No, this is not right.
Let’s go and see him. After all he’s your father. You won’t be able to show
your face in the village.’
‘Keep quiet. Don’t
preach to me.’
On the other hand, the
moment Babu sahib learnt about Mehto’s condition he at once came to see him.
Mehto’s condtion had worsened. His pulse had become weak. He realized that
Mehto’s time had come. He could read the fear of death on his face. He called
out gently, ‘Mehto bhai, how’re you feeling?’
Mehto spoke as if
awoken from sleep. ‘I’m fine, bhaiya. It’s time to leave. Now you’re Subhagi’s father. I’m leaving her
in your care.’
Sajan Singh replied,
crying, ‘Mehto bhaiya, don’t worry. God willing, you’ll get well. I have always
treated Subhagi as my daughter and shall continue to do so in future. Don’t worry,
so long as I am alive no one would dare to trouble Lakshmi and Subhagi. And you
can say whatever you have on your mind.’
‘I’ll say no more. May
God keep you ever prosperous.’
‘Shall I call Ramu? You
should forgive him for his follies.’
‘No, bhaiya. I don’t want to see his face.’
After this they began
to prepare for godaan.
5
The whole village urged
Ramu but he refused to perform the last rites. He said, ‘He refused to see my
face at his deathbed. How can I regard myself as his son?’
Lakshmi lighted the
funeral pyre. God knows how Subhagi had saved so much money but when the
preparations for the thirteenth day began the villagers were astonished.
Utensils, clothes, ghee, sugar – all these things were arranged easily. Ramu
was feeling jealous and Subhagi was showing all this to people to make Ramu
still more jealous.
Lakshmi said, ‘Beti, don’t go beyond your means.
There’s no bread earner in the family. We ourselves have to dig the well to drink.’
Subhagi replied, ‘Amma, we shall perform Babuji’s
thirteenth day rites with great pomp, whatever happens. Babuji isn’t going to
come again. I want to show to bhayyia
what a woman can do. He must be thinking that these two women can do nothing. I
want to crush his pride.’
Lakshmi kept quiet. On
the thirteenth day brahmins from eight villages were feasted. Everyone
applauded.
It was afternoon.
People had feasted and gone away. Lakshmi, tired, had gone to sleep. Subhagi
was winding up. Just then Sajan Singh came in and asked her to rest.
Subhagi said, ‘Dada, I’m not tired. Have you added up?
How much does it come to?’
‘Beti, why do you ask?’
‘No, I just want to
know.’
‘It must be about three
hundred rupees.’
Subhagi said with
hesitation, ‘I owe this amount to you.’
‘I won’t ask you to
pay. Mehto was my friend and brother. I too have some duty towards him.’
‘It is enough that you
have trusted me. Who would have lent me three hundred rupees?’
Sajan Singh marvelled
at the wisdom this woman possessed.
6
Lakshmi was one among those women for whom springs of life dry up with the death of their husbands.
Her loneliness after a fifty year long companionship looked like an uphill
struggle. She felt that her mind, her bodily strength, her good sense ⎼ all had taken leave of
her.
Many a time she had prayed
to God to take her life in her husband's life time, but God had not accepted this prayer. One has no control over one’s death. Does it mean one can’t
control one’s life?
Lakshmi who was
respected in the village for her wisdom, to whom people came for advice was now
a witless woman. She would not understand even the simplest of things.
From that very day
Lakshmi stopped eating. She would go to the kitchen on Subhagi’s pleading but
she wouldn’t eat anything. For fifty years she had never eaten even once before
her husband had eaten. How could she go against this principle now?
She began to have
coughing bouts. And soon she became bed-ridden because of weakness. Subhagi was
helpless. She had to work hard to pay back Thakur sahib’s loan. Now amma had fallen ill. If she went out she
had to leave her mother alone and if she stayed at home she was not able to
attend to work in the field. Subhagi realized that the messengers of death had
come for amma too. After all dada also had the same kind of fever.
No one in the village
had time to run about for her. Sajan Singh would call twice every day, to see
Lakshmi, to give her medicine, to advise Subhagi. But Lakshmi’s condition was
deteriorating. So much so that she left this world fifteen days after her
husband. During her last moments Ramu came to touch her feet but she rebuked
him so hard that he could not come near her. She blessed Subhagi and said: ‘I
have found fulfillment in having a daughter like you. You alone should perform my
last rites. I pray to God that you should be born of my womb in your next life.’
7
After her mother’s
death Subhagi had just one objective in life – to pay off Sajan Singh’s debt.
She had spent three hundred rupees on her father’s funeral and now two hundred
on her mother’s. She had to pay off this debt of five hundred rupees all with
her own efforts. But she did not lose courage. For three years she toiled day
and night. People were astonished to see her working prowess and toughness.
After attending to her field during the day she would grind four sers of
flour. At the end of every month without fail she would come to Sajan Singh’s
house to pay back fifteen rupees, as if it was an unalterable law of Nature.
Now she began to
receive proposals for marriage. The house where she would go would be very
fortunate. But Subhagi said that the day had not yet come.
She was wild with joy the day she had paid off
the last instalment of her debt. Her life’s hardest trial had ended.
When she was about to
go Sajan Singh said to her, ‘Beti, I
have one request to make. Shall I ? Promise that you won’t refuse.’
Subhai replied gratefully,
‘Dada, who else should I obey except
you? I am so indebted to you.’
‘If you have this
feeling then I won’t say anything. I did not ask you because so far you had
thought yourself indebted to me. Now you have cleared your debts. You are no
longer under any obligation to me. Not a bit. Shall I ask?’
Subhagi said, ‘What’s
your order?’
‘Look, don’t refuse.
Otherwise I shall never show my face to you.’
‘Your order?’
‘It’s my wish that you
should come to my house as my daughter-in-law. I believe in caste. But you have
broken all my chains. My son worships you. You too have seen him. Do you
accept?’
‘Dada, I shall go mad receiving so much honour.’
‘God himself is
honouring you. You are an incarnation of goddess Bhagwati.’
‘I regard you as my
father. What ever you do will be for my good. How can I refuse to obey your
order?’
Sajan Singh put his
hand on her head and said, ‘Beti, may
your husband live for ever. You have accepted my proposal. No one can be more
fortunate than me in this world.’ (Hindi,
Madhuri, March 1930)
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