Though I had been devotedly working in the sweet shop but people had a look of disdain, regarding me a mere Halwai, the sweet shopkeeper. Their attitude lacked respect. I, therefore, wanted to establish the business that would bring me prestige and honor. My brother-in-law, Ramesh Goel, owned a medical store at Rewa. He advised me to sell medicines and promised to obtain some agency for me. I liked his idea. However, there was a problem, ‘How to obtain drug license.’ Corruption was not as rampant then, as it is now, bribe the drug inspector and the license will be delivered at your lane. To please the drug inspector was as difficult task as to earn Lord Shiva’s favor. After some efforts, the license in the name of Jagdish Medicos was issued. I discussed the matter with Daddaji for ensuring financial support of rupees ten thousand. He had substantial bank balance at that time, yet he declined to provide me the sum. Pleading or arguing was not in my nature hence a refusal meant a final veto. Thus, the drug inspector’s kindness and my efforts came to a fiasco and Jagdish Medicos was killed in the womb.
My elder brother advised me, “Dwarika if you want to live a better life the first thing, you must do, is to know your father well. You will never flourish under his shadow. My life has already been ruined. You are fond of studies, go to Delhi and join some institute for I.A.S. coaching.” I got convinced by what he said. He procured Rao’s prospectus from Delhi and after filling the form remitted the admission fees.
When Daddaji learnt about it he called me for discussion, “I heard that you are leaving for Delhi?”
“Yes.” I replied.
“What do you intend to study?”
“I shall join coaching for I.A.S.”
“So, you want to be a Collector?”
“Yes.”
“How much salary does a Collector earn?”
“Around three hundred per month.”
“How many employees in your shop earn that salary?”
I understood what he implied by that question. I didn’t reply. Feeling encouraged by my silence, he continued, “We have big establishments where 15-20 persons work while you want to run for a mere three hundred rupees job?” That was his last ballistic missile.
“But, Collector..........” I began pleading.
“Collector! After all, he is a servant.” He became angry. Then changing his tone into mild one said, “Who will look at this establishment that I developed with great efforts, the prosperity, family relationships? I banked on you while you intend to escape for a service.” I kept quiet.
When I narrated the conversation to my elder brother he argued, “Idiot, don’t get deviated by Daddaji’s argument. Take the head of my advice and fly away from Bilaspur.” I again kept quiet.
These two walls of silence killed the possibilities that waited to embrace me.
Renowned leader and thinker Dr. Ram Manohar Lohia rightly observed, ‘We all are clever, shrewd enough, yet when we peep into the past we find that our history is replete with several follies. Even today, we are not sick of our follies.’ (Seriatim)
My elder brother advised me, “Dwarika if you want to live a better life the first thing, you must do, is to know your father well. You will never flourish under his shadow. My life has already been ruined. You are fond of studies, go to Delhi and join some institute for I.A.S. coaching.” I got convinced by what he said. He procured Rao’s prospectus from Delhi and after filling the form remitted the admission fees.
When Daddaji learnt about it he called me for discussion, “I heard that you are leaving for Delhi?”
“Yes.” I replied.
“What do you intend to study?”
“I shall join coaching for I.A.S.”
“So, you want to be a Collector?”
“Yes.”
“How much salary does a Collector earn?”
“Around three hundred per month.”
“How many employees in your shop earn that salary?”
I understood what he implied by that question. I didn’t reply. Feeling encouraged by my silence, he continued, “We have big establishments where 15-20 persons work while you want to run for a mere three hundred rupees job?” That was his last ballistic missile.
“But, Collector..........” I began pleading.
“Collector! After all, he is a servant.” He became angry. Then changing his tone into mild one said, “Who will look at this establishment that I developed with great efforts, the prosperity, family relationships? I banked on you while you intend to escape for a service.” I kept quiet.
When I narrated the conversation to my elder brother he argued, “Idiot, don’t get deviated by Daddaji’s argument. Take the head of my advice and fly away from Bilaspur.” I again kept quiet.
These two walls of silence killed the possibilities that waited to embrace me.
Renowned leader and thinker Dr. Ram Manohar Lohia rightly observed, ‘We all are clever, shrewd enough, yet when we peep into the past we find that our history is replete with several follies. Even today, we are not sick of our follies.’ (Seriatim)
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