Now, at this age, it seems as if my entire life was a mere time pass. As if, driven by a spirit ‘to kill the time’, some way or other. I spent my childhood in a state of sheer helplessness, adolescence in a spirit to comprehend the world around me, youth as a bonded labor, as contract assured of a free meal, clothing and residence. My middle age was claimed by the financial crisis and the urgency to ensure proper development of my children. My old age is being consumed by my frantic efforts to keep myself alive. I survive simply because death failed to claim me.
I look back at the years spent. I feel a sheer waste of time, little gainful plenty as futile. The last phase seems a little bit meaningful as worldly worries have diminished, materialistic facilities have established. You know, the lamp flutters, flickers before it finally goes out. Sorry, I began enumerating the problems of my old age while I have yet to tell about my youth.
I completed my graduation in 1966. Six years, 1966-1972, were full of events and feelings though I realize that I squandered time in a spirit of “wait and see.”
My mornings were claimed by my shop Pendrawala followed by a lunch break at noon. I had some leisure in the evening. Since no permission was granted for further studies, I found out a plan to utilize my evening leisure. I got myself admitted in a law college which had facilities for evening classes. Thus, surreptitiously, I decided to become an advocate. The medium of instruction was English while my own command over the language was really poor and inadequate. Practicing advocates were our college lecturers, whose teaching methodologies were boring and ineffective except Amar Prasad Roy, who taught us Jurisprudence. We had three beautiful damsels in the class thus granting us the opportunity to stare at them.Thus Law College was also a place for passing the time.
Wheel of time kept moving till the exams approached. The result of law faculty used to remain as low as 5 to 7 percent. I was confident that failure was fully assured. As I did not want to fail, so began cramming legal terms with the help of an English-Hindi dictionary. This gave me the insight that the subject was quite easy. English was the only hindrance. So I was able to grasp but my problem was how to use the English sentence pattern, grammatical structures had always been a great nuisance to me. I hit upon an idea.
I spoke to the registrar of Ravi Shankar University, Raipur, on trunk call two days before the scheduled exam date and requested him to grant permission to answer in Hindi. He rejected my plea in clear cut terms. Then I urged him to have a look at the examination application form in which were mentioned two medium, Hindi as well as English. I had opted for Hindi medium and was issued an admission card. Hence I would answer questions in Hindi, “Please see that I am not put to any disadvantage.” He kept quiet and I could guess that my argument had succeeded.
In the answer book, I used legal terms in English but employed the structures of Hindi grammar. I was declared successful, though Hindi, as a medium, was not allowed. This strategy was adopted by many others in the exams next year and quite a good number passed the exams. In the following year when three-year degree course scheme was implemented, Hindi was recognized both as a medium of instruction as well as of exams. Law results improved from 5-7 percent to 35-40 percent. How you find my attempt to get Matrubhasha Hindi, the national language, recognized as the medium of instructions?
LL.B. final was as dull and futile as the preceding one. I had friendly access to three of my female classmates. Two of them were sisters, Safia Farahat Zabeen was the elder one while the younger one was Razia Hasan. While the final year exams were in progress, one evening I went to Safia's home. She enquired, “What is the matter with you Dwarika? You are wandering while there is a paper tomorrow.”
I replied that the paper next day was of ‘Law of Torts & Easement.’ I could not grasp the subject and no textbook with me.
“Then?” She asked.
“My failure is guaranteed.”
“Do you have some time right now?”
“Yes.”
“Come on, let's sit and study.” She explained some important points about the subject. She handed over her book and notes to me and advised, “Go through these. Because I have explained, you shall be able to grasp easily.”
“And how will you manage without these?”
“Don’t worry I am at ease in comparison to you.” She replied.
I fared well in the exam and got through with second division marks. Safia scored first division. I, later on, learnt that Sofia found an assignment as an officer in Indian High Commission in Britain.
My dear Safia, accept my Salams where-ever you are, may God bless you a long life!
**********
To survive one should have virtues of endurance and tolerance, traits I do not possess. If I am alive without these traits the explanation is easy, my forgetfulness comes to my rescue. Can anyone forget? You would really misunderstand me, as my statement is contradictory to my act of writing my biography. Let me clarify, I am oblivious, but when I sit with my pen writing it down everything is alive like a cinema, it happened just yesterday.
Let us resume the time pass episode. After obtaining LL.B., I began wondering what to do next. First I thought of practicing as an advocate. Hence, I applied for the license to Madhya Pradesh Bar Council. The license was denied with a note that my age was below 21. Then I decided to join M.A. (Hindi Literature) classes. My working time at Pendrawala coincided with class timings. Hence I could not attend a single class nor could meet any teacher. Whenever I found some spare time I used to study at home.Though I could not go to college for attending the lectures but the hard work I put into my studies at home during those two years proved to be extremely fruitful and were quite satisfying.
In the year 1969, I was eligible for the license to practice as an advocate and was duly received. I reached court attired in a white shirt, white pants, white bow and black coat. I became the 124th member of Bilaspur Bar and became junior to Advocate Amar Prasad Roy.
Newcomers fail to get clients directly, though Dalal, the mediators used to bring clients for bails on condition of fifty percent share of fees, such proposals offended me, as I felt that I wasted my time and energy in becoming a law graduate. Better, I could have become a Dalal. My indifference turned the mediators away from me. My law training involved listening arguments of criminal advocates in murder cases, carrying the files of senior advocate and following him wherever he went to find out the rate of prevailing bribe to court clerk for each hearing, acquaint me with the art of exacting fees from the clients, trying to comprehend substance from the gossips in the bar room and witnessing the drama of active and busy advocates who pretended to be extremely busy.
I learned a lot in the court where I found faces suffering injustice in the vain hope of justice, highly expensive, hearing being repeatedly postponed, advocates in awe of judges, bribes openly exchanged in presence of judges, misbehavior of the court clerk, long wait for one’s turn, elites standing shoulder to shoulder with criminals, clients scolded by lawyers, worried relatives of the accused, understanding between the jail inmates and police, typewriter constantly emitting noise, smoking bidi and cigarettes and spit sprays of betel and tobacco chewers.
What I found that the court simply passed orders without dispensing justice.
After citing an incident I shall conclude the court episode in my life. My senior got a criminal case in which he was to defend the accused. Since he was poor, the lawyer was to be paid from government funds. The sixty years old was accused of rape and murder of his daughter in law thereafter throwing the body in well. His son, wife and the village Sarpanch, the elected leader of the village, had given statements to police that earlier too he had tried to molest her and had an evil intention towards her. However, there was no eye witness. The accused denied his charge and stated that he was innocent. Since he had quarreled with the Sarpanch, he hatched the conspiracy to implicate him by inciting his wife and son against him. I, with my senior, went to see the accused at the jail and he tried to convince us saying, was his age appropriate to commit such crime?
The matter was heard in ADJ court, statements were recorded, the two lawyer argued. I wanted to develop my career in criminal cases hence I attentively observed the proceedings. The court held that though the circumstantial evidence was against the accused yet in the absence of an eyewitness the accused was given the benefit of a doubt. He was acquitted.
My senior used to handle civil suits hence this success in a rape-cum-murder case greatly elated him. I also felt happy on the acquittal of an innocent person. After his acquittal his handcuffs were removed, he came to my senior began weeping falling on his feet, “Vakeel Saheb, you got me released.”
“It is O.K. You live in the village with cordial relations with everybody. Your tussle with Sarpanch caused you this harassment.”
“No, it’s not that, I had committed the crime,” He confessed.
After the incidence when I returned home, I was stunned, as if, I was part of the crime indirectly as the criminal was released. Throwing my clothes in the trash I acquitted myself from the profession and never turned back.
*********
I passed M.A. in 1970. Again I had to decide my next move. I decided to obtain a Ph.D. degree. Prof. Rajeshwar Dayal Saxena became my guide and I was assigned “Impact of post-independence politics on Hindi Literature.” I began studying text on Indian politics in addition to books in Hindi covering various genres. However, in spite of reading a lot, I always felt that my readings were not enough to conduct research. Two years slipped out of hands and simply watched time slipping away.
In order to escape from Daddaji’s terror elder brother decided to establish shop in some other city. He began Madhu Sweets in Raipur on 15th August 1972, leaving the responsibility of running Pendrawala on my shoulders. His departure along with his family made Daddaji highly distressed. I became the victim of the cold war between the two. Both of them would burst their ire against each other on me. They would keep quiet while face to face. Both nursed active volcanoes in their hearts against each other. I was to act as shock observer. Listen to their tirades. I was supposed to digest their explosive harangue. This continued for several years and been playing the mediator in a futile war.
It is often seen that who so ever leaves his home in quest of a golden future succeeds in it because after an exit from home one has to struggle for a day to day survival. He faces the challenges of survival boldly and comes out with a winning note in whatsoever profession or business he opts because he could never bear the humiliation of returning home an empty bowl.
“Pendrawala” was a shop running well with good clientele. I faced the challenge of giving a modern look. I took one year to give it a facelift. The Halwai shop acquired the glamour of a sweet shop. I began finding interest in running it and my research project got buried in the grave. I was climbing the ladder without knowing whether it would lead me, to dizzy heights or to a deep fall.
Madhu Sweets sailed well. It was a wise decision of elder brother’s part even it was prompted by Daddaji’s treatment. We were three brothers. The Laxmi rice mill was closed. Only one shop in a city was not sufficient for a joint family. Daddaji could plan for his own schemes but hardly thought about the hopes and dreams of his children nursed. Whenever we tried to initiate some plan on our own he was sure to interfere and create hurdles. It was not that he lacked wisdom. What he had was a desire to keep his own ideas supreme overriding everyone else’s wish.
Be it a mentor or a father, his qualities should be like an open sky encouraging every tree underneath to rise as much as it can. If the mentor or father is envious and has an ill feeling, he then turns a banyan tree which will never let any plantation to grow under its shed. (seriatim)
I look back at the years spent. I feel a sheer waste of time, little gainful plenty as futile. The last phase seems a little bit meaningful as worldly worries have diminished, materialistic facilities have established. You know, the lamp flutters, flickers before it finally goes out. Sorry, I began enumerating the problems of my old age while I have yet to tell about my youth.
I completed my graduation in 1966. Six years, 1966-1972, were full of events and feelings though I realize that I squandered time in a spirit of “wait and see.”
My mornings were claimed by my shop Pendrawala followed by a lunch break at noon. I had some leisure in the evening. Since no permission was granted for further studies, I found out a plan to utilize my evening leisure. I got myself admitted in a law college which had facilities for evening classes. Thus, surreptitiously, I decided to become an advocate. The medium of instruction was English while my own command over the language was really poor and inadequate. Practicing advocates were our college lecturers, whose teaching methodologies were boring and ineffective except Amar Prasad Roy, who taught us Jurisprudence. We had three beautiful damsels in the class thus granting us the opportunity to stare at them.Thus Law College was also a place for passing the time.
Wheel of time kept moving till the exams approached. The result of law faculty used to remain as low as 5 to 7 percent. I was confident that failure was fully assured. As I did not want to fail, so began cramming legal terms with the help of an English-Hindi dictionary. This gave me the insight that the subject was quite easy. English was the only hindrance. So I was able to grasp but my problem was how to use the English sentence pattern, grammatical structures had always been a great nuisance to me. I hit upon an idea.
I spoke to the registrar of Ravi Shankar University, Raipur, on trunk call two days before the scheduled exam date and requested him to grant permission to answer in Hindi. He rejected my plea in clear cut terms. Then I urged him to have a look at the examination application form in which were mentioned two medium, Hindi as well as English. I had opted for Hindi medium and was issued an admission card. Hence I would answer questions in Hindi, “Please see that I am not put to any disadvantage.” He kept quiet and I could guess that my argument had succeeded.
In the answer book, I used legal terms in English but employed the structures of Hindi grammar. I was declared successful, though Hindi, as a medium, was not allowed. This strategy was adopted by many others in the exams next year and quite a good number passed the exams. In the following year when three-year degree course scheme was implemented, Hindi was recognized both as a medium of instruction as well as of exams. Law results improved from 5-7 percent to 35-40 percent. How you find my attempt to get Matrubhasha Hindi, the national language, recognized as the medium of instructions?
LL.B. final was as dull and futile as the preceding one. I had friendly access to three of my female classmates. Two of them were sisters, Safia Farahat Zabeen was the elder one while the younger one was Razia Hasan. While the final year exams were in progress, one evening I went to Safia's home. She enquired, “What is the matter with you Dwarika? You are wandering while there is a paper tomorrow.”
I replied that the paper next day was of ‘Law of Torts & Easement.’ I could not grasp the subject and no textbook with me.
“Then?” She asked.
“My failure is guaranteed.”
“Do you have some time right now?”
“Yes.”
“Come on, let's sit and study.” She explained some important points about the subject. She handed over her book and notes to me and advised, “Go through these. Because I have explained, you shall be able to grasp easily.”
“And how will you manage without these?”
“Don’t worry I am at ease in comparison to you.” She replied.
I fared well in the exam and got through with second division marks. Safia scored first division. I, later on, learnt that Sofia found an assignment as an officer in Indian High Commission in Britain.
My dear Safia, accept my Salams where-ever you are, may God bless you a long life!
**********
To survive one should have virtues of endurance and tolerance, traits I do not possess. If I am alive without these traits the explanation is easy, my forgetfulness comes to my rescue. Can anyone forget? You would really misunderstand me, as my statement is contradictory to my act of writing my biography. Let me clarify, I am oblivious, but when I sit with my pen writing it down everything is alive like a cinema, it happened just yesterday.
Let us resume the time pass episode. After obtaining LL.B., I began wondering what to do next. First I thought of practicing as an advocate. Hence, I applied for the license to Madhya Pradesh Bar Council. The license was denied with a note that my age was below 21. Then I decided to join M.A. (Hindi Literature) classes. My working time at Pendrawala coincided with class timings. Hence I could not attend a single class nor could meet any teacher. Whenever I found some spare time I used to study at home.Though I could not go to college for attending the lectures but the hard work I put into my studies at home during those two years proved to be extremely fruitful and were quite satisfying.
In the year 1969, I was eligible for the license to practice as an advocate and was duly received. I reached court attired in a white shirt, white pants, white bow and black coat. I became the 124th member of Bilaspur Bar and became junior to Advocate Amar Prasad Roy.
Newcomers fail to get clients directly, though Dalal, the mediators used to bring clients for bails on condition of fifty percent share of fees, such proposals offended me, as I felt that I wasted my time and energy in becoming a law graduate. Better, I could have become a Dalal. My indifference turned the mediators away from me. My law training involved listening arguments of criminal advocates in murder cases, carrying the files of senior advocate and following him wherever he went to find out the rate of prevailing bribe to court clerk for each hearing, acquaint me with the art of exacting fees from the clients, trying to comprehend substance from the gossips in the bar room and witnessing the drama of active and busy advocates who pretended to be extremely busy.
I learned a lot in the court where I found faces suffering injustice in the vain hope of justice, highly expensive, hearing being repeatedly postponed, advocates in awe of judges, bribes openly exchanged in presence of judges, misbehavior of the court clerk, long wait for one’s turn, elites standing shoulder to shoulder with criminals, clients scolded by lawyers, worried relatives of the accused, understanding between the jail inmates and police, typewriter constantly emitting noise, smoking bidi and cigarettes and spit sprays of betel and tobacco chewers.
What I found that the court simply passed orders without dispensing justice.
After citing an incident I shall conclude the court episode in my life. My senior got a criminal case in which he was to defend the accused. Since he was poor, the lawyer was to be paid from government funds. The sixty years old was accused of rape and murder of his daughter in law thereafter throwing the body in well. His son, wife and the village Sarpanch, the elected leader of the village, had given statements to police that earlier too he had tried to molest her and had an evil intention towards her. However, there was no eye witness. The accused denied his charge and stated that he was innocent. Since he had quarreled with the Sarpanch, he hatched the conspiracy to implicate him by inciting his wife and son against him. I, with my senior, went to see the accused at the jail and he tried to convince us saying, was his age appropriate to commit such crime?
The matter was heard in ADJ court, statements were recorded, the two lawyer argued. I wanted to develop my career in criminal cases hence I attentively observed the proceedings. The court held that though the circumstantial evidence was against the accused yet in the absence of an eyewitness the accused was given the benefit of a doubt. He was acquitted.
My senior used to handle civil suits hence this success in a rape-cum-murder case greatly elated him. I also felt happy on the acquittal of an innocent person. After his acquittal his handcuffs were removed, he came to my senior began weeping falling on his feet, “Vakeel Saheb, you got me released.”
“It is O.K. You live in the village with cordial relations with everybody. Your tussle with Sarpanch caused you this harassment.”
“No, it’s not that, I had committed the crime,” He confessed.
After the incidence when I returned home, I was stunned, as if, I was part of the crime indirectly as the criminal was released. Throwing my clothes in the trash I acquitted myself from the profession and never turned back.
*********
I passed M.A. in 1970. Again I had to decide my next move. I decided to obtain a Ph.D. degree. Prof. Rajeshwar Dayal Saxena became my guide and I was assigned “Impact of post-independence politics on Hindi Literature.” I began studying text on Indian politics in addition to books in Hindi covering various genres. However, in spite of reading a lot, I always felt that my readings were not enough to conduct research. Two years slipped out of hands and simply watched time slipping away.
In order to escape from Daddaji’s terror elder brother decided to establish shop in some other city. He began Madhu Sweets in Raipur on 15th August 1972, leaving the responsibility of running Pendrawala on my shoulders. His departure along with his family made Daddaji highly distressed. I became the victim of the cold war between the two. Both of them would burst their ire against each other on me. They would keep quiet while face to face. Both nursed active volcanoes in their hearts against each other. I was to act as shock observer. Listen to their tirades. I was supposed to digest their explosive harangue. This continued for several years and been playing the mediator in a futile war.
It is often seen that who so ever leaves his home in quest of a golden future succeeds in it because after an exit from home one has to struggle for a day to day survival. He faces the challenges of survival boldly and comes out with a winning note in whatsoever profession or business he opts because he could never bear the humiliation of returning home an empty bowl.
“Pendrawala” was a shop running well with good clientele. I faced the challenge of giving a modern look. I took one year to give it a facelift. The Halwai shop acquired the glamour of a sweet shop. I began finding interest in running it and my research project got buried in the grave. I was climbing the ladder without knowing whether it would lead me, to dizzy heights or to a deep fall.
Madhu Sweets sailed well. It was a wise decision of elder brother’s part even it was prompted by Daddaji’s treatment. We were three brothers. The Laxmi rice mill was closed. Only one shop in a city was not sufficient for a joint family. Daddaji could plan for his own schemes but hardly thought about the hopes and dreams of his children nursed. Whenever we tried to initiate some plan on our own he was sure to interfere and create hurdles. It was not that he lacked wisdom. What he had was a desire to keep his own ideas supreme overriding everyone else’s wish.
Be it a mentor or a father, his qualities should be like an open sky encouraging every tree underneath to rise as much as it can. If the mentor or father is envious and has an ill feeling, he then turns a banyan tree which will never let any plantation to grow under its shed. (seriatim)
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