Mr. Bhagwan
By Diwan Thakore
‘Hello…’
‘Hello Bhagwan.’
‘Some guests are coming today. Four people will have lunch. Send meals for four at 12.30 pm.’
‘You will get it.’
‘Listen, please see that the pickle is not too spicy. It should be a little sweet also. Put some ‘kera’ pickle with it. Batukbhai likes small pieces and Bachiben likes mango pickle.’
‘Ok Bhagwan, anything else?’
‘Papad with double pepper.’
‘Yes Bhagwan. Give me your address.’
He noted down the address. I felt relaxed. Everything is arranged now for the guests’ lunch. My wife will not have to bother for cooking. Let me go to office for a while. By that time, the guests would arrive. I shall be back by the time they would have had tea. I told my wife and left for the office. As I reached, the peo1n came to say that the water pump is not working. The tap has gone dry. A number of thoughts started swelling in my mind. In this hot weather, one cannot stay without water. The staff of ten people would need drinking water. Everyone would require at least three-four glasses of water. I took the calculator. Four tens are forty – means, forty liters. I must order fifty liters. I dialed the phone,
‘Hello…’
‘Hello Bhagwan.’
‘Nachiket speaking, calling from the office. There is a problem of drinking water here. The pump is not working. There is no water. Quickly send a fifty liter jar.’
‘Just sending, Bhagwan. Anything else?’
‘Send a mechanic to repair the water pump, at the earliest.’
‘Yes, sending him in a short while. Give me the address.’
I gave him the address and got busy with my routine office work. The man with water jar came in a few minutes. The mechanic also came and took away the pump for repairs. I signed his bill and forwarded it to the accountant with the instruction to issue the cheque. The telephone rang.
‘Hello…’
‘Guests have arrived. Come home soon.’
‘Has the meals been delivered?’
‘Yes. We are waiting for you.’
‘I am just leaving.’
Finishing my work quickly, I left for home. We had our lunch with the guests. Batukbhai and Bachiben enjoyed the taste of the pickle. We then talked on some general topics. As I was leaving for the office after taking leave from Batukbhai, my wife said,
‘Batukbhai wants to buy towels; where would he get it?’
‘Are they leaving at four o’clock?’
‘Yes. Their train leaves at four.’
‘Can’t you stay back, Batukbhai?’
‘No, no. We would come again and stay longer then.’
‘How many towels do you want to buy?’
‘A dozen.’
‘Where would you go to buy them now? It would be late if you go to the market. Let me do something. I am arranging to get them.’
‘Ok, as you please.’
I dialed the phone.
‘Hello…’
‘Hello Bhagwan.’
‘I want a dozen towels…should be of good quality…I want it for the guests.’
‘Ok. Where should I deliver…at home or office?’
‘Deliver at home.’
I left after shaking hands with Batukbhai. Reaching office, I looked into the important files. The peon brought a glass of water. As I was drinking, many thoughts came to my mind.
Bhagwan’s job is commendable. He never refuses. Bhagwan must be serving so many people like me. He is a trouble-shooter for me. Whatever I ask for, he is always ready to do it. I have just to express my desire. He takes the responsibility to fulfill it. My responsibility is only to pay him its price. No nonsense. His timing is perfect. Never late. Once you tell him that something is required at 12.30, then it would be done exactly at that time. He seems to be a capable man. He is very particular. It has never happened that he refused to do something. He does not behave according to his whim. He is always happy in fulfilling our desires. If you demand butter milk in place of curd, he brings butter milk. If you ask for gold plated silver ornaments instead of gold; he would provide just that. He provides singers for any occasion – marriage or mourning. Ask him for any task for home or office, he is always ready. He is a brave man. I have not seen a person like him till today…yes, really…I have not seen Bhagwan…whenever required, he is contacted over phone only. I have always talked with him over phone. It has never happened to meet him face to face. I must meet him personally, at least once. I should see the man in front of me, who is so helpful to me; who does many things for me. I will surely meet him and thank him. I would say, ’Mr. Bhagwan , thank you very much. I am so lucky that you met me. The God above, after sending me on to the earth, has never asked me, how my life is going? What a chaotic situation is prevailing here! Does He know about it? You are such a wonderful man, Mr. Bhagwan. You have made the tasks of the God much easier. In fact, there is nothing that you cannot do.
I could not help laughing on my thoughts like these! For, the chair in front of me was empty. No one called Bhagwan was present there. It was eight o’clock. There was nobody in the office except a yawning peon. I stood up taking out keys from my drawer. I left office as I decided to meet Bhagwan personally very soon.
After three days, suddenly I required the help of Bhagwan. The sky was overcast. The weather was sultry. My wife needed an umbrella. The old one had broken down. The umbrella was necessary for her when she goes out to fetch vegetables etc. I took the phone and dialed the number.
‘Hello…’
‘Hello Bhagwan.’
‘Nachiket speaking. I want an umbrella.’
‘For ladies or gents?’
‘Please send a good quality umbrella for ladies. By the way, what do you think, would it be raining today?’
‘If you buy umbrella, there would be no rains today.’
The line was disconnected. The answer given by Bhagwan surprised me. I thought Bhagwan was a philosopher. His answer was funny yet surprising. Bhagwan seems to be quite intelligent. Only an intelligent man can make such a statement. He is a person whom I should surely meet. But, where can I meet him? I don’t have his address, only his phone number. I may get his address from his phone number.
A few days passed as I was busy. Since morning, there was sultriness in the air today. The wind started blowing in the afternoon. The clouds were thundering in the sky. The wind stopped blowing. The drops of first shower of monsoon started falling on the earth. I was delighted as I watched the rain from my window. The roads were full of running water. Very few people were passing through the road. The passers-by had taken shelter under the roofs of the shops. They were enjoying the showers. Some of them were receiving the raindrops on their open palms.
The phone rang up.
‘Hello. Nachiket here.’
‘It’s already raining here and I have not yet got the umbrella. You must have forgotten to call him.’ My wife told me.
‘I had called him. Haven’t you got the umbrella? Ok, I’ll just call him again.’
This has not happened anytime before. All these years, it did not happen even once that the required thing has not been delivered on time. Bhagwan must have some problem. But, what problem he could have? The person who himself is a trouble-shooter for everyone; he should not have any trouble. He must have forgotten. But it is not possible. His memory is sharp. Bhagwan is clever and intelligent. The other day, what a smart reply he had given! If you buy the umbrella, there would be no rains! It’s so true. May be, it’s raining because he has not delivered the umbrella! Now I will have to meet Bhagwan. For umbrella also I should meet him. Let me call him. It’s ringing. There is no reply. I tried again. Still, there was no reply from him. Is it that he has fallen ill? Whom shall I ask? I should inquire about Bhagwan. If Bhagwan is not there, it would be difficult for me to live. Who would then work for me? Who will fulfill my number of requirements? Let me find out his address from the telephone directory. I found it after searching for about ten minutes. ’707, Gagan Vihar’. I noted it down on a piece of paper. I also wrote the words ‘Bhagwan’s address’ on it; so that I can make out whose address is this. The place is not too far. I shall go there after the rain stops. Though, the question is, whether Bhagwan would be present there or not. I was so eager to meet Bhagwan.
My work got completed before time. I climbed into my car and drove towards his place. I was little confused. After fifteen minutes, I was at the given address. I stopped the car near a green-colored signboard. I came out with the address chit. I looked for the flat number on the members’ list at the ground floor. I entered the lift and pressed the button for the seventh floor. The lift started moving upward. For a moment, a thought flashed in my mind – this lift is really taking me to Bhagwan. The lift stopped. I opened the door. I came out and looked around for flat no. 707. I pressed the call-bell switch. The door opened in a few seconds. A young man in white pants and black T-shirt was there. He had rough beard and disorderly hair. He was staring me wide-eyed. The way he was staring, I got upset.
‘I want to meet Mr. Bhagwan.’
‘No Bhagwan is here.’
‘I am Nachiket. I had ordered an umbrella.’
‘ Brother, I do not sell umbrella.’
‘Look, it’s raining again. I cannot go home without umbrella.’
‘What can I do if it’s raining?’
His reply confused me. The man standing in front of me was really not Bhagwan?
No, no. The address is correct. There is no mistake. He is not a suited-booted man as I had imagined him to be. His style of speaking is just like that of Bhagwan. There is no doubt that he himself is Bhagwan. I tried again.
‘I think you remember that you had got my water pump repaired.’
‘I don’t know any kind of repairing.’
‘Just a week ago, you had delivered meals at my home. Then, I had ordered twelve towels.’
He gave me a bored look. It was clearly visible on his face that he thought me to be a traveler who had lost his path halfway. Finally, I said,
‘It was you who told me that if you buy an umbrella, there would be no rains.’
‘No brother, I did not tell you anything like that.’
He turned back and walked towards the room inside. I could not understand him and stood at the doorstep like an idiot! Bhagwan is unpredictable. I did not think of Bhagwan to be like this. He bluntly refuses to recognize me. He could not behave with me in such a way. What has happened to Bhagwan? It is difficult to understand. It made me somewhat doubtful in my mind. Bhagwan is in trouble. That young man is not Bhagwan. Some unfortunate thing might have happened. What could have happened?
I got into the lift and came down.
I inquired about Bhagwan with the watchman.
‘About whom you are talking, sir?’
‘Mr. Bhagwan, who lives on seventh floor in flat no. 707.’
‘I don’t know anyone here who is called Bhagwan. An old man, his wife and their sick son live in that flat. The old man has no job. He does not talk with anybody except for money.’
I found the watchman’s comment objectionable. It would have been better if Bhagwan had met me. The behaviour of that young man was rather strange. He did not even talk properly with me. It may be, perhaps, because of his sickness.
On my way back home, I remembered the umbrella. I parked the car on the roadside and moved towards the market looking for an umbrella shop. I stopped at the vendor who was sitting on the footpath spreading the umbrellas. He had a large collection of small, big and colorful umbrellas. He showed me different umbrellas one by one, giving details of color, shape, quality and price of each one. I told him about my requirement. He showed me a beautiful umbrella. I asked the price. Sixty rupees, he said. I asked him at once that can he give me for fifty rupees?
He agreed. I was perplexed. The manner in which I bargained for, I used to do it long ago. At that time, I had the habit of buying everything after proper bargaining. As my activities got multiplied, the habit was left behind. The umbrella was of my own choice. So, I bought it paying fifty rupees.
A thought occurred to me – had I bought the umbrella from Bhagwan, how much it would have cost me? He may have charged rupees 100/125 and I would have gladly paid him. That means, he has cheated me so far, charging higher rates. He has charged heavy price for everything I had ordered. How much excessive money have I paid him? Why would he refuse if he is getting more profit? He would always be ready. Now I felt some mistrust for Bhagwan. I thought the watchman’s comment was right.
I handed the umbrella to my wife as I entered my home. She was pleased. I told her everything that I had thought about Bhagwan.
She said,
‘We should not call Bhagwan for everything. He should be contacted only in exceptional circumstances’.
I agreed with her. If I am not able to do something, only then I should call Bhagwan. I used to do everything myself before he came. He has cheated me till now. I just pay whatever amount he has charged. I never inquire about the price. Having enough money and excessive trust on Bhagwan – these two things led me to this situation. It will not happen now.
As I was leaving for office, my wife reminded me that the occasion for ceremonial offering to my late father is only two days away. As per my practice, I will have to arrange for giving a feast to the children of the orphanage this year too. I thought I would need the help of Bhagwan for this. I dialed him hesitantly.
‘Hello…’
‘Hello Bhagwan.’
‘I have to give feast to the children of the orphanage.’
‘When?’
‘ The day after to-morrow.’
‘Ok.’
‘One minute, what would you charge?’
‘Fifty rupees for full dish.’
‘The price is high. What would you serve?’
‘One sweet, two vegetables, dal-chawal and kachaudi.’
‘Which sweet do you offer?’
‘Dudhi-halwa or mohanthal.’
‘No, it is not suitable. You should give koparapak and gulabjamun.’
‘Ok.’
‘Your price should be reasonable. I will give thirty rupees. The children do not eat much.’
‘Ok. Anything else?’
‘No, your bill only…’
Before I could finish, the line was disconnected. Three days later, I received a thanksgiving letter from the manager of the orphanage. He had given details of how the children enjoyed the feast. I was happy and satisfied to know it. This time, I had placed order with Bhagwan in a fair and proper manner. Earlier, I was not careful while placing order. I regretted for that. Now I have known Bhagwan properly. Now I will not make any mistake. My wife was also happy when I told her everything. Her happiness made me even happier. She said that she wants to go to meet her parents. I gladly consented. She told me that during her absence, I should order and have lunch in my office. It is just for a day only. But, as you have forgetful nature; I would call you in the afternoon. I nodded.
Next day, I dialed the phone to order my meals,
‘Hello…’
‘Hello Bhagwan.’
‘See, you have to deliver meals at my office at 12.30pm, ok?’
‘Sure.’
‘I am your permanent customer. You have to give me discount.’
‘Ok.’
‘How much?’
‘Ten per cent.’
‘No, not ten. But, twenty per cent.’
‘Ok.’
After putting down the receiver, I thought, why did I ask for just twenty per cent? He would not have refused if I had asked for twenty five. So far, he has never given me any discount. It was a mistake to hurriedly accept the discount. Had I insisted a little more, Bhagwan would have offered even fifty per cent! I felt disappointed. I began thinking as to how can I get maximum benefit from him. Let me go through a file or two; by then, the meals would arrive. My wife will return to-morrow. The clock was showing 12.30. The tiffin carrying the meals should come any moment now. I was hungry. I finished my work and closed the file. Still, there were no signs of the tiffin. If there is a call from my wife, what would I say? Is it that Bhagwan has forgotten? But, he does not forget. It is now 12.50. Bhagwan has definitely forgotten. Let me wait for ten minutes more; otherwise, I shall have to go to some hotel. At 12.59, the door opened. A middle aged man in white, clean dress came in. He said,
‘Sir, your tiffin.’
I could recognize him.
‘Oh, Mr. Bhagwan? Why did you take the trouble? Please come in. Be seated. You have accomplished so many tasks for me. What would you like to have – something hot or cold?’ I asked.
‘I have to go. I have to fulfill many tasks. Three of my employees are absent today. So…’
‘No, no…I will not let you go without having something. You have come here for the first time.’
I looked at him. The other day, that young man who refused to recognize me at his flat, must be his sick son.
‘I would just have a glass of water. Then, I must go.’
‘Do you have the bill?’
‘No.’
‘Why?’
‘You told me for giving discount. So, I thought to give you hundred per cent discount. You just enjoy your lunch. You have not to pay for it.’
His reply surprised me. It was indeed a pleasant surprise. What a wonderful man he is! I asked him,
‘Why? How can you do business this way? If you feed people without charging for it, then what your children will eat?’
I was eager to know his reply. I found his eyes completely peaceful. A kind of mysterious glare was coming out of his eyes. It was dazzling! In a few moments, the glare was dimmed.
‘What happened?’
‘Nothing. You are talking about my son. Since a month, he was sick. He was on a deathbed. When in the state of consciousness, he used to prattle something. My ears can hear his prattling even now! I had fulfilled every desire of him. I used to fulfil his desires immediately. He had some pain piercing deep down his heart which he could not express till the end. Perhaps, I had committed some mistake which could not be forgiven…therefore…’
He was staring at the floor.
Earlier, I thought Bhagwan to be a bad, selfish man. He must be doing anything for the sake of money. I had thought that he is purely a business-minded man. But my impression was wrong. I felt ashamed. I could not see him into his eyes. I realised my mistake. I should apologise. I raised my head with great effort to look at him. But, the door was open and nobody was there. Bhagwan had left my office.
The phone rang up.
I picked up the receiver. My heart was thrilling as I spoke,
‘Hello Bhagwan?’
The answer given by me was against my desire, power or inclination. Also, I cannot say that my answer was deliberate. I did not want to say it in a lighter vein. Exactly at that moment, I could see the face of Bhagwan as a flash and quickly I said,
‘Hello Bhagwan?’
* * *
Mr Diwan Thakore
He worked as a teacher in a higher secondary school. His short stories are being published in reputed literary journals over a period of last thirty years. He has three collections of short stories published so far. Out of the three, two have won him awards from Gujarat Sahitya Academy. He is a member of the Central working committee of Gujarati Sahitya Parishad. He also conducts ‘story reading and discussion’ sessions with various writers every month.
Mr Harish Khatri
He worked in a Bank as a manager. He has written short stories, essays, book reviews, film reviews which have been published in prestigious literary journals. He has two books published to his credit. He has translated a number of stories and articles from English into Gujarati and has translated five books too.