The Rise Of A Sparrow
We once had a servant named Ramdhan. He was more or less the same age as I was. Nonetheless, he was a servant. He did the washing and sweeping, though not the cooking. Ramdhan came from a village and ours was the first house he worked in. He was, therefore, uncivilised. He would raise his legs and sit cross-legged on the sofa, even if there were visitors around. He brushed his teeth with neem twigs and left bundles of twigs in the bathroom. For the first couple of mornings, Ramdhan picked up a mug and headed for the grounds behind the house. For all these acts, Ramdhan was scolded and abused. He didnt last very long. Tired of civilisation, he went back to his village. But during the period he was around, I remember an occasion when he was severely scolded. Thereafter, the family went out and Ramdhan was left alone in the house. When we returned, we found that Ramdhan had made amends. He had seen me catch sparrows and decided that this was a way to gain acceptance. Therefore, in our absence, Ramdhan had
caught exactly eleven sparrows. All neatly tied up with pieces of string. I suffered pangs of envy. One sparrow took me an hour. And here was this chap, with eleven sparrows in a couple of hours. Funnily enough, my parents never scolded me when I caught a sparrow. I was scolded if I didnt let it go later. Have you noticed how such a sparrow reacts? You lossen the string and the sparrow is free to fly away. But it doesnt realise this immediately. It first hops around a couple of inches. It takes a minute for the fact of freedom to register. And then the sparrow is gone.
Sunil Gangopadhyay is well- known Bengali novelist, poet and short story writer. One of his novels is about a relatively unknown writer who suddenly receives an invitation to attend a creative writing programme in Iowa University for a year. The University will bear the expenses once the writer is there. But he has to reach with eight dollars in his pocket. Two picture postcards in Paris cost half a dollar. In Chicago, the writer has to spend the night at the airport. On his first trip abroad, he is scared that one cant spend the night at the airport. So he spends two dollars on cab fare to a seedy hotel, five dollars on the room and fifty cents on a tip for the porter. Eventually, he reaches Iowa with not a cent in his pocket. Thankfully, someone is at the airport to receive him. This helplessness is a phenomenon many of us have encountered. I was once caught in New York with a suitcase too heavy to lug around. But I didnt have a dollare for the trolley.
Circa 1980. I accompanied someone to the airport. He was off to London on a fellowship. All costs borne by the funders. But only when he reached London and he had to get there first. So he collected ten dollars from friends who had hoarded the stuff. But my friend was on his first trip abroad. And scared stiff because he was flouting the law. We fortified him with doses of whisky before he boarded the plane. Nevertheless, he told me later that the illegal ten dollars had burnt a hole in his pocket and he couldnt sleep on the plane.
Circa 1989. I accompanied another friend to East of Kailash in a hush hush and covert operation. The friend worked in a research organisation which offered ample scope for travel abroad. You got a per diem of 100 odd dollars a day. But since you invariably travelled in groups of two and shacked up in ramshackle hotels, you saved several dollars. These could be used to bring back a VCR. Alternatively, you brought back the dollars. Originally, you got the dollars in travelers cheques. But abroad, you converted them into cash. This had the advantage that you didnt have to sell the unused dollars to the bank. You could sell them illegally, as in East of Kailash. There must have been some tax implications. But more importantly, you got a better rate in East of Kailash.
Circa 1996. Someone I know was going to participate in a chess tournament in London. He paid Rs 30,000 for some pounds bought from the market. The pounds were never used. And when he sold them back, he got only Rs 27,000. A windfall loss of Rs 3,000.
Times have changed, even if we dont realise it. There is a sparrow in each of us. When will the sparrows fly?