Synergy is a synonym of co-operation and it is used for the joint family system. Synergy among family members aids to overall growth and development of the entire family. Every individual has inherent qualities which he uses to contribute to the common pool of development. The initial idea behind is, to give and not to extract. The power and freedom which comes to the head of the joint family have been misused to corner maximum resources for his immediate relationship and the demands of other members were undermined. This further deteriorated the foundation of the joint family system and is now becoming less popular.
To live and survive in joint families is a daunting task. The pressure of relations holds so strong in its tentacles that one is apprehensive of actions and overreactions of others. All the time is worried, “What will he/she think? Or Should I or shouldn’t I.....?”
Humans don’t have any choice of his parents or relatives during birth, as it is decided by Providence. Maintaining a relation requires sacrifice and wisdom, which is the decision of oneself. By reading this account of my life you must have grasped the fact that I am living in uncomfortable circumstances. But one cannot alter his parents or family or neighbors? He has to mend his actions appropriately. Those who cannot, are always disturbed, engaged in quarrels, accusing others and remain in tension. Is it so simple to change oneself?
Marriage accords social approval of two unknown persons to live together, companionship is established. Whether they have similar attitudes, enjoy cordiality and began liking each other are questions that remain the unresolved mystery, despite years of companionship. How can we read the mind of the others?
The two weeks, we spent together were memorable moments. At that time going for the honeymoon to a hill station was not a usual practice, something neither dreamed nor desired. Even if it was in trend, Daddaji’s temperament would have disapproved it. After becoming a member of our family Madhuri tried her best to adapt to her new environment because of a similar kind of environment she had at her parental home. She got fully immersed in it. The brides of that period were endowed with tolerance and the ability to adjust with others. However, she must have had to make a lot of adjustment to adapt to our lifestyle. My business is highly demanding in terms of time and energy. We found a little time to exchange words. Each one was so heavily burdened with work that sharing of mutual tensions was often delayed. I was fond of gambling too, hence used to return late and would immediately go to sleep. One night I was late. It was 2 A.M., I kept knocking at the door but she did not open it deliberately though she had heard me knocking. I spent the whole night on the floor on the veranda. Mosquitoes that night had been in a league with Madhuri. She was extremely annoyed Due to my addiction of gambling and chewing betel with plenty of tobacco, she wanted me to mend my ways but as you know, habits die hard.
I had been managing, independently the shop for the last four years. Modernization was required to ensure rich dividends. I turned towards preparing and selling ice cream which new in our city. With the help of a mini plant of ice cream, Bilaspur got the distinction of having ice cream prepared under modern technology. Thus customers were introduced to “Softie”. This resulted in a bigger crowd in my shop and taxed me with longer work hours. My friend Ramkishan Khandelwal and I used to set ice cream till 1 O’clock at night so that customers might get it next morning. These extra hours were accounted by Madhuri to my gambling habits. None would believe a gambler, though I tried to convince her, asking to smell my essence filled hands. She would coldly say, “Don’t try to bluff me. One can gamble even after applying the essence’s smell.” A bad reputation leaves you nowhere. It is better to be bad than having a bad name.
The whole family was subjugated to Daddaji’s commands including myself. We also accepted his supremacy but being modern I would often cross the limit he had demarcated. Taking Madhuri for a ride on the scooter, lifting baby Sangeeta in arms were acts that were against social norms. He would stare at me and keep quiet despite anger.
In the meantime elder brother had shifted his family to Raipur. Drift between Daddaji and elder brother grew further, leaving no scope for dialogue. It is but natural to have differences but the splitting of hearts is in no way good for family’s welfare. Families, where flexibility remains, are able to overcome their differences but when obstinacy and ego coincide everything turns into a mess. A pause of communication between the two became the cause of such development. Our joint family began to split leaving only bitterness.
Though there were several associations in life, some lasted while a few broke up but every parting friend left some lesson. During the journey of my life whatever I learnt has become topsy-turvy. What I considered right, in the long run, proved wrong and what I thought to be wrong ultimately turned right. During childhood, I used to regard joint family a blessing. However, my experiences enlightened me that it is an imprisonment for those who are sincere and devoted whereas, for irresponsible ones, it is a honeymoon package: eat, drink, marry and pour your awe on others.
Parents produce children with the hope that they will be assets in days to come. This has two facets. The direction devoted to raising children must be duly respected and children should feel obliged. Problems arise when parents, unknowingly create hurdles in the natural growth of children. It is a game in which shrewd guardians exploit children or smart kids exploit their parents. I consider such game a sin. For family’s harmony, they should live with a desire ‘to give’ as much and nor a feeling of extracting.
**********
My shop kept running so my domestic life. By January 1976, Madhuri’s pregnancy was confirmed which made both of us ecstatic. We would often guess, son or daughter? In the end, would agree on having a daughter. The whole family hoped for a son but it was a mere guess. At that time no scientific technique to confirm the sex of the child was available. 18th September 1976 Madhuri begot a daughter who was named, Sangeeta.
The vehicle of my family life was dragging somehow but lacked harmony and equality, was always pinching me. Relationships were strained and invisible tension reigned over everyone. There was silent disharmony among every possible relation which existed in our family, for reasons not known. Months passed when we didn’t smile at each other and didn’t converse. Was the notion of joint families promoted for such kind of sour silence?
For maintaining a gap between births of children Madhuri had undergone Copper-T planting so as to avoid conception, surprisingly was pregnant again. Sangeeta by that time was one year and a half. Once again the curious inquiry, son or daughter?
On 28th February 1979 I was at the shop when I received a message that Madhuri had acute labor pains. I ran straight to the hospital while my friend Sunder Lal Chhabra reached home in a rickshaw. Getting Ammaji and Madhuri boarded the rickshaw for the hospital he arrived on scooter informing me that she was not in a position to walk a single step, take a stretcher out. Madhuri was rushed to labor room on the stretcher. Dr.Anuradha Tripathi asked Madhuri to exert pressure.
“I am trying to control delivery all the way otherwise, it would be in the rickshaw itself.”
“Then relax.” said the doctor.
The room was filled with the cries of the newborn. Our second daughter was named, Sangya.
At home, the arrival of a daughter made everyone unhappy. Comments were whispered, a few tried to sympathize as if a calamity had befallen us, while both of us were happy. The day long whispering made Madhuri sad. She burst into tears in the evening. I grasp my hand over her head consoling. She enquired, “If she is a girl what is my fault?”
In Indian families why the birth of a son is a matter of great happiness whereas birth of a daughter is regarded a misfortune? I realized after 25 years when she was married, how insulting it is to be a parent of a girl.
**********
The idea to do something different kept beating in my mind for quite some time. I had an opportunity to attend a marriage in Ahmedabad where ‘Wadilal Icecream’ drew my attention. I realized that my region presented immense possibilities of expanding business in Ice cream. I began survey after my return and found that ‘Quality’ brand Ice-cream was the only known brand in this region. ‘Wadilal’ enjoyed wide popularity in Gujarat, “Blue Bell” in Bombay and “Dinshaw’s” in Nagpur which used to sell their products through vendors on railway stations without having a proper network. Their supplies were confined to a few cities only. In view of growing purchasing power and the modern trend I guessed that there would be a phenomenal rise in customers of Ice cream. My business acumen was calling that in near future ice-cream would raise from liking to necessity. Area of around 500 km in radius from Bilaspur would be open for ice-cream consumption. My shop had a mini plant, so I decided to launch a project of manufacturing ice-cream. I applied in the Industry department for land, bank for finance and other facilities from the respective departments, in the name of Madhu Madhur Udyog.
The scheme progressed according to my plan. A plot measuring 44,100 (Approx. One Acre) was allotted to me in the industrial area Tifra, Bilaspur. Canara Bank agreed to finance the loan worth Rs.15 Lac. Several offers to supply machinery in response to my advertisement in the Times of India were received. I paid several visits to Bombay, Pune and Indore where I discussed the scheme with ice-cream manufacturers. The bank demanded to produce guarantee and collateral securities, which I didn’t have. I neither had any property in my name nor a person who could promise guarantee. Fifteen lakhs, in the year 1979, was a substantial sum. To install the same plant today would require around 15 crores. Furnishing guarantee and producing property papers was my bottleneck that I had to discuss the matter with my friend Sundar Lal Chhabra. He assured, “Don’t worry. I will stand as a guarantor as well as provide collateral security.”
“Really?” I asked in utter dismay.
“Bring papers from the bank. I will sign the papers and bring my property documents too.”
“And suppose the project flops?”
“Either I don’t know Dwarika or Dwarika doesn’t know me.” He declared.
The bank manager forwarded the loan proposal to the headquarters at Bhopal. Preliminaries were over. Only loan approval was awaited. An officer from the headquarters came to Bilaspur to discuss the matter with me and pointed out a lacuna in my application. Having agreed to approve the project he advised to rectify the technical slip. The bank was to finance 80% of the proposed expenditure whereas I was supposed to finance the remaining 20% which I had declared to be ‘from friends and relatives.’ Bank objected that it should have been from my own capital. Hence after obtaining the amount from friends and relatives I was supposed to deposit the sum in my own account to show it as my own capital. Here was the hurdle. Only Daddaji could manage the problem because my account books were under his control, while he was unaware of any project of Ice-cream. You would be in a dilemma why I didn’t divulge the matter to him? The reason was quite simple, I knew my Daddaji pretty well, through and through.
The custody of my income tax file was in the hands of Daddaji. Actually, it was his capital which used to earn interest for him. My name was a mere paper formality. The father who declined to finance me Rs.10, 000/- in 1967 for a medical shop, would support me was only a mirage. Now the bank had trapped me in a situation from which Daddaji alone could rescue me out. He had control over the finance shown in my account. When I asked, he tersely declined to provide me the use of capital.
Thus, Madhu Madhur Udyog got aborted in the womb itself. The unborn embryo was a step to raise my social status from that of a Halwai to one of an industrialist. It proved to be day dreaming. The project was to assume a step towards my prosperity but that did not materialize. I had yet to learn a few more lessons that the joint family system had in store for me. I, again, kept quiet that day.
My dream project shattered, why did it? I alone knew it. I had not divulged the matter to Madhuri even. How could I say why the project turned into a fiasco? After few days a shopkeeper in Golbazar, Malik Ram, inquired, “My dear Bhateeje, what happened to your Icecream plant?”
In a low voice, I said, “I have abandoned the idea.”
“Why?”
“I simply dropped the idea.”
“I can guess, let us do one thing, Let’s be partners.”
“What do you mean?”
“It will be my capital, you will be an as working partner.”
“Give me some time to think about it.”
Malikram was a unique figure among the traders in Golbazar area. He had arrived penniless from Pakistan after the partition. After his arrival in Bilaspur, he began a grain shop in the name of ‘Malikram Melaram.’ He worked very hard. He was of Daddaji’s age. I was his pet nephew. He used to visit 'Pendrawala'. After a little gossip, he would teach me tricks of the trade and shrewdly sell his merchandise to me. I was his high profile customer. He was a frequent visitor of our Pendrawala shop, so I would offer tea often which he would deny. I asked him out of curiosity, ‘Why you always deny my offer of tea?’ He said after a deep thought, ‘If I would have tea at your shop, I would have to reciprocate the same when you come to our shop. I don’t have that big heart.’
I was engrossed in Malik Ram’s proposal seriously. His offer was really tempting. I felt that someone has suddenly landed to help me in my dream project. However, after examining pros and cons I conveyed him my refusal. He looked at me in surprise but said nothing. I felt extremely sorry for my refusal but my decision was followed by evaluation of various factors:-
1. Malik Ram’s offer was an affirmation of his sharp business acumen. Both of us would have reaped good profits, as it promised substantial gains. However, because of his capital in the investment he would have exercised complete control. In such a situation I would have to seek his approval for every action, to explain him everything in details and take him into confidence which was not in my temperament to act under constant vigil. I believed that without absolute freedom to decide one has to act with reluctance. Such helplessness is harmful to a business to flourish.
2. He would not simply hand over his fortune. Any person investing such a huge amount would ensure security. He would introduce his person in the business so as to remain watchful of business and thereby investment. This I could not relish.
3. For every business to be profitable there is minimum gestation period of five years. I doubt Malik Ram would give that patience.
4. If the project had any possibility of failure, I could not put at stake the faith and capital which Malik Ram had showered on me.
5. If the project succeeded Malik Ram would take over as owner relegating me from the status of ‘working partner’, to an employee. This was not acceptable to me.
Like Saira Bano & Sadhna, my ice cream project turned to a distinct possibility, which I will repent lifelong.
Malik Ram was diagnosed with oral cancer in 1980. He was taken to Bombay for treatment. After recovery, he returned but the disease, in the course of time, had relapsed. He was in great agony with unbearable pain. He could see death hovering over his head. One day he came to his brother’s shop, ‘Melaram & Brothers’, next to my shop. Munna Mudaliyar from the shop came to me, “Malik Ramji had summoned you.” I went to him. He began weeping when he saw me. After some time he said, “My dear Bhateeje, I love you very much. It is time for me to pack up. Listen carefully to my proposal.”
“Chacha Ji, I am at your service”, I said.
“I have a plot in Telipara which I want to gift you.”
“But why?”
“Because I love you very much.”
“I cannot accept this. Your brothers and children have right on your property.”
“You are a strange fellow. I am giving you and you are denying. While my family members are behind me to get my property before death.” His voice choked, he began weeping.
“I need your blessings only, I don’t need anything more.”
“O.K., then please accept this, you owe me Rs.20, 000. I have forgiven it.”
“Sorry, I can’t accept this. There should be fair dealings in the transaction. I will repay all my debts in this world itself. However, at the moment I do not have the sum to repay you. If you are keen to give me, please shower your blessings.” I touched his feet.
He placed his right hand on my head. We both were sobbing by then. I could not grasp the fact that the man who didn’t pay for a single cup of tea all of sudden became so generous! It is true, man is not what he seems to be like and does not appear what he really is.
Malikram survived only a week after the incidence. (Seriatim)
To live and survive in joint families is a daunting task. The pressure of relations holds so strong in its tentacles that one is apprehensive of actions and overreactions of others. All the time is worried, “What will he/she think? Or Should I or shouldn’t I.....?”
Humans don’t have any choice of his parents or relatives during birth, as it is decided by Providence. Maintaining a relation requires sacrifice and wisdom, which is the decision of oneself. By reading this account of my life you must have grasped the fact that I am living in uncomfortable circumstances. But one cannot alter his parents or family or neighbors? He has to mend his actions appropriately. Those who cannot, are always disturbed, engaged in quarrels, accusing others and remain in tension. Is it so simple to change oneself?
Marriage accords social approval of two unknown persons to live together, companionship is established. Whether they have similar attitudes, enjoy cordiality and began liking each other are questions that remain the unresolved mystery, despite years of companionship. How can we read the mind of the others?
The two weeks, we spent together were memorable moments. At that time going for the honeymoon to a hill station was not a usual practice, something neither dreamed nor desired. Even if it was in trend, Daddaji’s temperament would have disapproved it. After becoming a member of our family Madhuri tried her best to adapt to her new environment because of a similar kind of environment she had at her parental home. She got fully immersed in it. The brides of that period were endowed with tolerance and the ability to adjust with others. However, she must have had to make a lot of adjustment to adapt to our lifestyle. My business is highly demanding in terms of time and energy. We found a little time to exchange words. Each one was so heavily burdened with work that sharing of mutual tensions was often delayed. I was fond of gambling too, hence used to return late and would immediately go to sleep. One night I was late. It was 2 A.M., I kept knocking at the door but she did not open it deliberately though she had heard me knocking. I spent the whole night on the floor on the veranda. Mosquitoes that night had been in a league with Madhuri. She was extremely annoyed Due to my addiction of gambling and chewing betel with plenty of tobacco, she wanted me to mend my ways but as you know, habits die hard.
I had been managing, independently the shop for the last four years. Modernization was required to ensure rich dividends. I turned towards preparing and selling ice cream which new in our city. With the help of a mini plant of ice cream, Bilaspur got the distinction of having ice cream prepared under modern technology. Thus customers were introduced to “Softie”. This resulted in a bigger crowd in my shop and taxed me with longer work hours. My friend Ramkishan Khandelwal and I used to set ice cream till 1 O’clock at night so that customers might get it next morning. These extra hours were accounted by Madhuri to my gambling habits. None would believe a gambler, though I tried to convince her, asking to smell my essence filled hands. She would coldly say, “Don’t try to bluff me. One can gamble even after applying the essence’s smell.” A bad reputation leaves you nowhere. It is better to be bad than having a bad name.
The whole family was subjugated to Daddaji’s commands including myself. We also accepted his supremacy but being modern I would often cross the limit he had demarcated. Taking Madhuri for a ride on the scooter, lifting baby Sangeeta in arms were acts that were against social norms. He would stare at me and keep quiet despite anger.
In the meantime elder brother had shifted his family to Raipur. Drift between Daddaji and elder brother grew further, leaving no scope for dialogue. It is but natural to have differences but the splitting of hearts is in no way good for family’s welfare. Families, where flexibility remains, are able to overcome their differences but when obstinacy and ego coincide everything turns into a mess. A pause of communication between the two became the cause of such development. Our joint family began to split leaving only bitterness.
Though there were several associations in life, some lasted while a few broke up but every parting friend left some lesson. During the journey of my life whatever I learnt has become topsy-turvy. What I considered right, in the long run, proved wrong and what I thought to be wrong ultimately turned right. During childhood, I used to regard joint family a blessing. However, my experiences enlightened me that it is an imprisonment for those who are sincere and devoted whereas, for irresponsible ones, it is a honeymoon package: eat, drink, marry and pour your awe on others.
Parents produce children with the hope that they will be assets in days to come. This has two facets. The direction devoted to raising children must be duly respected and children should feel obliged. Problems arise when parents, unknowingly create hurdles in the natural growth of children. It is a game in which shrewd guardians exploit children or smart kids exploit their parents. I consider such game a sin. For family’s harmony, they should live with a desire ‘to give’ as much and nor a feeling of extracting.
**********
My shop kept running so my domestic life. By January 1976, Madhuri’s pregnancy was confirmed which made both of us ecstatic. We would often guess, son or daughter? In the end, would agree on having a daughter. The whole family hoped for a son but it was a mere guess. At that time no scientific technique to confirm the sex of the child was available. 18th September 1976 Madhuri begot a daughter who was named, Sangeeta.
The vehicle of my family life was dragging somehow but lacked harmony and equality, was always pinching me. Relationships were strained and invisible tension reigned over everyone. There was silent disharmony among every possible relation which existed in our family, for reasons not known. Months passed when we didn’t smile at each other and didn’t converse. Was the notion of joint families promoted for such kind of sour silence?
For maintaining a gap between births of children Madhuri had undergone Copper-T planting so as to avoid conception, surprisingly was pregnant again. Sangeeta by that time was one year and a half. Once again the curious inquiry, son or daughter?
On 28th February 1979 I was at the shop when I received a message that Madhuri had acute labor pains. I ran straight to the hospital while my friend Sunder Lal Chhabra reached home in a rickshaw. Getting Ammaji and Madhuri boarded the rickshaw for the hospital he arrived on scooter informing me that she was not in a position to walk a single step, take a stretcher out. Madhuri was rushed to labor room on the stretcher. Dr.Anuradha Tripathi asked Madhuri to exert pressure.
“I am trying to control delivery all the way otherwise, it would be in the rickshaw itself.”
“Then relax.” said the doctor.
The room was filled with the cries of the newborn. Our second daughter was named, Sangya.
At home, the arrival of a daughter made everyone unhappy. Comments were whispered, a few tried to sympathize as if a calamity had befallen us, while both of us were happy. The day long whispering made Madhuri sad. She burst into tears in the evening. I grasp my hand over her head consoling. She enquired, “If she is a girl what is my fault?”
In Indian families why the birth of a son is a matter of great happiness whereas birth of a daughter is regarded a misfortune? I realized after 25 years when she was married, how insulting it is to be a parent of a girl.
**********
The idea to do something different kept beating in my mind for quite some time. I had an opportunity to attend a marriage in Ahmedabad where ‘Wadilal Icecream’ drew my attention. I realized that my region presented immense possibilities of expanding business in Ice cream. I began survey after my return and found that ‘Quality’ brand Ice-cream was the only known brand in this region. ‘Wadilal’ enjoyed wide popularity in Gujarat, “Blue Bell” in Bombay and “Dinshaw’s” in Nagpur which used to sell their products through vendors on railway stations without having a proper network. Their supplies were confined to a few cities only. In view of growing purchasing power and the modern trend I guessed that there would be a phenomenal rise in customers of Ice cream. My business acumen was calling that in near future ice-cream would raise from liking to necessity. Area of around 500 km in radius from Bilaspur would be open for ice-cream consumption. My shop had a mini plant, so I decided to launch a project of manufacturing ice-cream. I applied in the Industry department for land, bank for finance and other facilities from the respective departments, in the name of Madhu Madhur Udyog.
The scheme progressed according to my plan. A plot measuring 44,100 (Approx. One Acre) was allotted to me in the industrial area Tifra, Bilaspur. Canara Bank agreed to finance the loan worth Rs.15 Lac. Several offers to supply machinery in response to my advertisement in the Times of India were received. I paid several visits to Bombay, Pune and Indore where I discussed the scheme with ice-cream manufacturers. The bank demanded to produce guarantee and collateral securities, which I didn’t have. I neither had any property in my name nor a person who could promise guarantee. Fifteen lakhs, in the year 1979, was a substantial sum. To install the same plant today would require around 15 crores. Furnishing guarantee and producing property papers was my bottleneck that I had to discuss the matter with my friend Sundar Lal Chhabra. He assured, “Don’t worry. I will stand as a guarantor as well as provide collateral security.”
“Really?” I asked in utter dismay.
“Bring papers from the bank. I will sign the papers and bring my property documents too.”
“And suppose the project flops?”
“Either I don’t know Dwarika or Dwarika doesn’t know me.” He declared.
The bank manager forwarded the loan proposal to the headquarters at Bhopal. Preliminaries were over. Only loan approval was awaited. An officer from the headquarters came to Bilaspur to discuss the matter with me and pointed out a lacuna in my application. Having agreed to approve the project he advised to rectify the technical slip. The bank was to finance 80% of the proposed expenditure whereas I was supposed to finance the remaining 20% which I had declared to be ‘from friends and relatives.’ Bank objected that it should have been from my own capital. Hence after obtaining the amount from friends and relatives I was supposed to deposit the sum in my own account to show it as my own capital. Here was the hurdle. Only Daddaji could manage the problem because my account books were under his control, while he was unaware of any project of Ice-cream. You would be in a dilemma why I didn’t divulge the matter to him? The reason was quite simple, I knew my Daddaji pretty well, through and through.
The custody of my income tax file was in the hands of Daddaji. Actually, it was his capital which used to earn interest for him. My name was a mere paper formality. The father who declined to finance me Rs.10, 000/- in 1967 for a medical shop, would support me was only a mirage. Now the bank had trapped me in a situation from which Daddaji alone could rescue me out. He had control over the finance shown in my account. When I asked, he tersely declined to provide me the use of capital.
Thus, Madhu Madhur Udyog got aborted in the womb itself. The unborn embryo was a step to raise my social status from that of a Halwai to one of an industrialist. It proved to be day dreaming. The project was to assume a step towards my prosperity but that did not materialize. I had yet to learn a few more lessons that the joint family system had in store for me. I, again, kept quiet that day.
My dream project shattered, why did it? I alone knew it. I had not divulged the matter to Madhuri even. How could I say why the project turned into a fiasco? After few days a shopkeeper in Golbazar, Malik Ram, inquired, “My dear Bhateeje, what happened to your Icecream plant?”
In a low voice, I said, “I have abandoned the idea.”
“Why?”
“I simply dropped the idea.”
“I can guess, let us do one thing, Let’s be partners.”
“What do you mean?”
“It will be my capital, you will be an as working partner.”
“Give me some time to think about it.”
Malikram was a unique figure among the traders in Golbazar area. He had arrived penniless from Pakistan after the partition. After his arrival in Bilaspur, he began a grain shop in the name of ‘Malikram Melaram.’ He worked very hard. He was of Daddaji’s age. I was his pet nephew. He used to visit 'Pendrawala'. After a little gossip, he would teach me tricks of the trade and shrewdly sell his merchandise to me. I was his high profile customer. He was a frequent visitor of our Pendrawala shop, so I would offer tea often which he would deny. I asked him out of curiosity, ‘Why you always deny my offer of tea?’ He said after a deep thought, ‘If I would have tea at your shop, I would have to reciprocate the same when you come to our shop. I don’t have that big heart.’
I was engrossed in Malik Ram’s proposal seriously. His offer was really tempting. I felt that someone has suddenly landed to help me in my dream project. However, after examining pros and cons I conveyed him my refusal. He looked at me in surprise but said nothing. I felt extremely sorry for my refusal but my decision was followed by evaluation of various factors:-
1. Malik Ram’s offer was an affirmation of his sharp business acumen. Both of us would have reaped good profits, as it promised substantial gains. However, because of his capital in the investment he would have exercised complete control. In such a situation I would have to seek his approval for every action, to explain him everything in details and take him into confidence which was not in my temperament to act under constant vigil. I believed that without absolute freedom to decide one has to act with reluctance. Such helplessness is harmful to a business to flourish.
2. He would not simply hand over his fortune. Any person investing such a huge amount would ensure security. He would introduce his person in the business so as to remain watchful of business and thereby investment. This I could not relish.
3. For every business to be profitable there is minimum gestation period of five years. I doubt Malik Ram would give that patience.
4. If the project had any possibility of failure, I could not put at stake the faith and capital which Malik Ram had showered on me.
5. If the project succeeded Malik Ram would take over as owner relegating me from the status of ‘working partner’, to an employee. This was not acceptable to me.
Like Saira Bano & Sadhna, my ice cream project turned to a distinct possibility, which I will repent lifelong.
Malik Ram was diagnosed with oral cancer in 1980. He was taken to Bombay for treatment. After recovery, he returned but the disease, in the course of time, had relapsed. He was in great agony with unbearable pain. He could see death hovering over his head. One day he came to his brother’s shop, ‘Melaram & Brothers’, next to my shop. Munna Mudaliyar from the shop came to me, “Malik Ramji had summoned you.” I went to him. He began weeping when he saw me. After some time he said, “My dear Bhateeje, I love you very much. It is time for me to pack up. Listen carefully to my proposal.”
“Chacha Ji, I am at your service”, I said.
“I have a plot in Telipara which I want to gift you.”
“But why?”
“Because I love you very much.”
“I cannot accept this. Your brothers and children have right on your property.”
“You are a strange fellow. I am giving you and you are denying. While my family members are behind me to get my property before death.” His voice choked, he began weeping.
“I need your blessings only, I don’t need anything more.”
“O.K., then please accept this, you owe me Rs.20, 000. I have forgiven it.”
“Sorry, I can’t accept this. There should be fair dealings in the transaction. I will repay all my debts in this world itself. However, at the moment I do not have the sum to repay you. If you are keen to give me, please shower your blessings.” I touched his feet.
He placed his right hand on my head. We both were sobbing by then. I could not grasp the fact that the man who didn’t pay for a single cup of tea all of sudden became so generous! It is true, man is not what he seems to be like and does not appear what he really is.
Malikram survived only a week after the incidence. (Seriatim)
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