Munshi Prem Chand is the greatest writer in Hindi literature of twentieth century. He is the household name in educated Hindi speaking world and to almost all of the inhabitants of this world he provided the introduction to literature. His epic novel Godan (Gift of a Cow) was my introduction to literature and his stories were what I read before Kipling, Tolstoy and Turgnev. Unfortunately for us in the West his world is that of an Indian village of twenties and thirties of the last century, so foreign to us it might as well be from another planet and his language is that of the villagers. It doesn't translate well and that is the main reason he is not well-known here. I do not claim any expertise as a translator but I did translate a few of his stories for my daughters. Here is one of them. If you see similarity in his humour and mine, this is the humour of the area I grew up in.

Big Brother
By Munshi Prem Chand
Translated by Sudhir Jain

My brother was five years older, but only three grades ahead. He started school at the same age as I did, but on a matter as important as education, he did not like to rush things. He wanted to lay a firm foundation so that a splendid palace may be erected on it. He did one year’s work in two, sometimes it took him three. If the foundation is not solid, how will the building be strong?

I was young, he was older. I was nine, he was fourteen. He had an absolute birthright to watch over me. And my good name was based on treating his orders as legal edicts.

By nature he was very studious. He sat with an open book all the time and perhaps to rest his brain, sometimes on notebooks, sometimes on the margin of the books, he would draw the pictures of birds, dogs and cats. Sometimes, he will write down one name or word or sentence ten or twenty times. Sometimes, he would copy a passage four times in beautiful writing. Sometimes he would create words that had no meaning and no context. For example, once I saw this creation – special Amina, brothers-brothers, in fact, brother-brother, Radheshyam, Mr. Radheshyam, for an hour – followed by a masculine face. I tried very hard to make some sense of this riddle, but failed. I did not dare to ask him. He was in ninth grade, I was in sixth. To understand his creations was like big words from a small mouth.

I never felt like studying. To sit with books for an hour was like climbing a mountain. I left the hostel at the earliest opportunity to go to the sports ground, sometimes tossed rocks, sometimes flew paper butterflies and if I found a playmate – don’t ask. Sometimes climbed the boundary walls to jump down, sometimes riding the gate back and forth as if enjoying a drive in a car; but when I returned to the room, furious face of Bhai sahib* frightened life out of me. His first question was – Where have you been? Always the question was put forth in the same voice and my only answer was respectful silence. I don’t know why I could never say that I was playing outside. My silence admitted my guilt and Bhai Sahib had no option but to treat me with words full of anger but laced with affection.

“If you study English like this, you will spend your lifetime and never learn a word. Study of English is no sport that whosoever wishes can master. If it were every Tom, Dick and Harry would be the master. One has to strain eyes and sweat blood day and night to get education. And even then it is only to be able to tell others. Not even the great scholars can write correct English, leave alone speak it. And I am telling you, you are such an idiot that you do not learn from my example. I work so hard, you see it with your eyes. And if you don’t see it, it is the fault of your eyes, your brain. There are so many fairs and shows, have you ever seen me go to those? There are cricket and hockey matches every day, I do not go anywhere near. I am studying all the time. Even then I spend two or three years in each grade. How can you expect to pass if you waste all your time in fooling around? I take two or three years, you will rot all your life in this grade. If you want to waste your life like this, you better go home, enjoy your games of Gulli Danda**. Why waste hard-earned money of our dear Dada***? “

After this scolding I shed buckets of tears. There was no reply; I had committed the crime, who else will be scolded? Bhai Sahib was an expert in the art of lecturing. He used such hard-hitting words, shot words like arrows that my heart would shatter into little fragments and I would lose all courage. I could never find the strength to work with such soul-destroying devotion. And in that hopelessness, I would momentarily think – Why shouldn’t I go home. Why should I take on the work beyond my powers and ruin my life. I accepted the idea of remaining an illiterate since the thought of that much work made me dizzy. But after an hour or two, the clouds of hopelessness would disintegrate and I would determine to study with full concentration. I would quickly make a timetable. How could I start work before mapping the path, preparing any plan? There was no room for recreation in this timetable. Be up with the crack of dawn at six, a quick shower and breakfast, than settle for study. Six to eight English, Arithmetic from eight to nine, History from nine to nine-thirty, then snack and school. After returning from school at three thirty, rest for half hour, Geography from four to five, Grammar from five to six, walk in front of the hostel for half an hour, English composition from six thirty to seven. After dinner, Translation from eight to nine, Hindi from nine to ten, miscellaneous subjects from ten to eleven, then rest.

Making timetable is one thing, following it is another. I started neglecting it the first day. The pleasant green of the field, gentle gusts of wind, chase of the soccer ball, tactical rushes of Kabbaddi****, smart quick moves of volleyball pulled me in unknown but certain ways and I forgot all about books. This gave Bhai Sahib more opportunities to scold and curse. I kept away from his shadow, tried to stay away from his reach and came into room so quietly as not to attract his notice. If he raised his eyes towards me, I would lose all my nerve. It felt as if a sword was always dangling above my head. Even then just as a man is trapped in the bonds of greed and temptation in spite of misery and death, I could not give up sports in spite of warnings and scolding.

Annual examinations came. Bhai Sahib failed and I passed and came top of the class. Now there were only two years between us. I felt like taking Bhai Sahib to task – What happened to your hard work? Look at me, I had all the fun and topped the class. But he was so sad and disheartened that I felt deep sympathy for him and felt ashamed at the thought of sprinkling salt on his wounds. However, I now felt proud of my achievements and my confidence increased. Bhai Sahib’s personality had no power over me now. I started participating in games freely. My resolve was firm. If he caused me trouble, I will clearly speak out – What heroics did you accomplish by working yourself to the bone? I topped my class and had all the fun and games. In spite of lacking nerve to express all this in words, it was clear from my mannerism that I did not have much fear of Bhai Sahib. Bhai Sahib guessed that much – His power of observation was very keen. One day when I returned just in time for snack after spending the whole morning playing Gulli Danda, it was as if Bhai Sahib was ready with unsheathed sword and he fell upon me – I see that passing this year and being first in the class has gone to your head; but dear brother, pride fells much bigger personalities, what standing do you have? You must have read of Ravan in History class. What did you learn from his character? Or you merely read it? Just to pass an exam is nothing, real thing is to develop intellect. Learn the meaning of what you read. Ravan was the master of the whole world. Such kings are called Masters of the Universe. These days English empire covers huge territory, but you can’t call them Masters of the Universe. Many countries in this world do not accept British Rule, are completely independent. Ravan was the Master of the Universe. All kings of the world paid dues to him. Some very important gods were his slaves. The gods of water and fire were his servants, but what happened to him in the end? Pride completely destroyed him and no one was left to give him a drop of water. A man can commit any evil, but he should not be vain, should not boast. You become proud and you are lost from this world and the next. You must have read of Satan. He took pride in the thought that there is no greater true devotee of God than him. He met his end when he was pushed from heaven to hell. Emperor Room also became proud once. He died as a beggar. All you have done is passed a grade, and your head has turned. Now how will you make progress? You must understand that you did not succeed with your effort; a blind person sometimes catches a pigeon. Once in a while, you accidentally hit a home run in Gulli Danda, this does not make you a great player. Successful player is one whose every strike is a hit. Don’t go by my failure. When you are in my class, your teeth will sweat, when you will have to chew the steel balls of Algebra and geometry, will have to study the history of British Empire. It is not easy to remember the names of the kings, there were eight Henrys. Do you think it is easy to remember what event occurred in which Henry’s time? You write Henry the Eighth instead of Henry the Seventh, all marks vanish, each one of them. You won’t get a zero, not a zero. What world are you in? There were dozens of James’, dozens of Williams and scores of Charles’. The mind boggles. You become feverish. These unfortunates could not find names, kept adding Second, Fourth, Fifth etc. If they asked me I would have suggested a million names. And geometry! You need the mercy of God. You write A, G, B in stead of A, B, G and lose all the marks. No body dares ask these cruel examiners what is the difference after all in A, B, G and A, G, and B and why do you murder poor students for such useless things? You ate vegetable, rice, bread or you ate rice, vegetable, bread, what is the difference. But what do these examiners care? Whatever is written in the book, they want the students to cram word for word. And this cramming they call education. And what, in the end, is the use of cramming these headless and legless things? Drop this normal on this line, the base must be twice the normal. Someone ask what is the use? It may be quadruple, not just double, may only be half; what do I care? But I have to pass the examination, so I will have to memorize all this nonsense. They ask – “Write an essay on good use of time of at least four pages. “ Now, with the notebook open, pen in hand, cry over that title. Who doesn’t know that good use of time is a very good thing, this brings discipline in a person’s life, others become fond of him and he prospers in his trade, but how do we write four pages on this little matter? What is the need to write in four pages what can be expressed in one sentence? I call this impertinence. This is not good use of time but its waste to unnecessarily push some nonsense on paper. We wish that a person says whatever he has to say quickly and go on his way. But no, you have to ink four pages, whatever you write; and pages of legal size too. If this is not a crime against students, what is it? Senseless thing is that they say write in brief. Write a brief essay on the good use of time not less than four pages long. Right! In brief it is four pages. Otherwise they may have asked for one or two hundred pages. Run fast and slow as well. It is contradictory, or is it not? Even a baby can understand this but these teachers don’t have this much sense. They claim to be teachers. When you are in my class, mister, you will have to suffer all these things and then you will find out what life is like. You topped this class, now you walk on air. For this reason, follow my advice. I may have failed, but I am older than you, have more experience of this world than you. Take note of what I am telling you, otherwise you will be sorry.

It was getting close to time for school, otherwise who knows when the lecture would have ended. I could not taste the food – “If I get this scolding for passing, I will probably be sentenced to death if I fail.” The fearful picture drawn by Bhai Sahib of the study for his class scared the life out of me. I am surprised that I didn’t run away from school. In spite of so much scolding, my indifference to books stayed the same and I did not miss any opportunity of amusement. I did study but little, just enough to do the daily homework so I did not lose face in the class. The self-confidence I had gained disappeared again and I started living like a thief.

It was time for another annual examination. It so happened that I passed again and Bhai Sahib failed once more. I had not worked hard, but somehow I came first. I was wonderstruck. Bhai Sahib had worked body and soul, crammed each word of the course, till ten at night, from four in the afternoon, and from six to nine thirty before school. His appearance had lost all glow. But poor man failed. I felt pity for him. When the result was announced, he started crying and I did too. My joy on my success was reduced to half. Had I failed Bhai Sahib wouldn’t have been so unhappy, but who can change the fate.

There was a difference of only one grade between Bhai Sahib and me now. I had an evil thought that if Bhai Sahib failed one more time; I will be in the same class. Then he won’t have any basis to make my life hell, but I forcefully removed this thought from my heart. After all, he scolds me thinking of my own good. It certainly feels unpleasant now, but it may be due to his lectures that I regularly succeed with such good marks.

This time Bhai Sahib became much more kind. He had many opportunities to scold me but he was patient. Perhaps he began to think that he no longer had any right to take me to task, and if he had any, it was small. My independence also increased. I started taking improper advantage of his kindness. I had the feeling that I will pass whether I study or not, luck is on my side. Therefore, whatever little I studied because of fear of his scolding now came to an end. I developed taste for flying the kites and spent all my time flying and chasing them. Still I feared Bhai Sahib and did this without his knowledge. Problems in preparing the string, tying it to kite and in preparing for kite tournaments were solved secretly. I did not want Bhai Sahib to think that my respect and consideration for him were any less now.

One evening, far from the hostel, I was chasing a loose kite at full speed. Eyes were towards the sky, mind was concentrated on the airborne traveler, who was leisurely moving forward, as if a soul had come out of heaven on its way to selflessly acquire a new body. A whole army of boys, armed with brooms and sticks, was running to welcome it. No one had any idea of what else was going around him, as if all of them were flying with the kite where everything is safe, no cars, no trams and no carriages.

Suddenly, I ran into Bhai Sahib, who may have been returning from the bazaar. He caught me by the arm and spoke angrily – You should be ashamed of running for this half-penny kite with these street urchins. You have no consideration that you are no longer in a low grade but in eighth grade, just one grade behind me. A person must keep in mind his position. There was a time when people who passed eighth grade became Assistant Municipal Officers. I know many such middle graders who are now first-rate Deputy Magistrates and Superintendents. Many eighth graders are our leaders and newspaper editors. Many world-renowned scholars work under them and you are in eighth grade and still chasing kites with street urchins. I feel sorry for your lack of intelligence. You are clever; there is no doubt in that. But what good is the cleverness without any self-respect. You feel in your heart that I am merely one year behind Bhai Sahib and now he has no right to tell me anything. But you are mistaken. I am five years older than you and even if you happen to be in my grade – and if examiners do not change their ways, undoubtedly you will be my classmate next year and may even go ahead of me the year after that – but the five year difference between us can not be erased by God, leave alone you. I am five years older than you and will always be. The experience I have of life and this world, you will not be able to match even if you become M.A. and D.Phil. and D.Litt. Wisdom comes not from books but from observing the world. Amma did not pass any examination and the Dada did not go beyond fifth or sixth grade; yet even if both of us acquire all the learning in the world they will always have a right to advise and correct us. Not just because they gave us birth, but because they have more experience of living and will always have. What kind of government they have in America and how many times Henry the eighth got married and how many planets are in the sky, they may not know all that, but there are thousands of things in which their knowledge is greater than yours or mine. Let’s pray not, but if I fell ill today, you will be at your wit’s end. You would not be able to think of anything except telegraphing Dada; but if Dada were in your place he will not telegraph any body, will not be worried or confused. First he will diagnose the illness and try to cure it. If he does not succeed he will call a doctor. Illness is a big thing. You and I don’t even know how to manage monthly allowance to make it last the month. What Dada sends, we spend by twentieth or twenty second and then are desperate for pennies. Breakfast stops, we hide from barber and washer man. But what you and I are spending these days, Dada managed most of his life respectably in half of that and brought up a family of nine persons in total. Look at your Headmaster, he is an M.A. or is he not, and not a local M.A., one from Oxford. He is paid one thousand rupees; but who manages the household? His elderly mother. Headmaster’s degree is useless here. To begin with he managed the household himself. He never had enough to meet all expenses. He was always in debt. When his mother took over the management, it was as if the goddess of plenty arrived. Therefore, dear brother, drive out of your heart this vanity that you have come close to me and you are now free. I can still use this (shows his flat hand). My words are like poison to you.

I bowed my head against his new tactic. I really felt my low station and new respect grew in my heart for Bhai Sahib. I said with tears in my eyes – Definitely not. Whatever you are saying is absolutely true and you have every right to say it.

Bhai Sahib hugged me and said – I am not forbidding kite-flying. My heart is also tempted, but what can I do, if I take the wrong path how will I protect you? I have this responsibility on my shoulders.

By a strange coincidence, a lose kite was passing by above us. Its string was hanging loose. A crowd of boys was chasing it. Bhai Sahib is tall. He jumped and caught the string and ran helter skelter towards the hostel. I followed closely behind him.

* Bhai Sahib – Respectful address for older brother.
** Gulli Danda – An Indian game played with a stick used as a bat and very short stick used as a ball.
*** Dada – Indian version of Dad, Amma for mother.
**** Kabaddi – An Indian team game of chase and escape.