Piety

It was a full moon night in August. Brijmohan Ganguly finished his evening prayers and performed the Arati at the small Radha-Krishna temple located on the outskirts of a remote village in northern Bengal. After that he distributed the holy offerings called Prasad that consisted of sugar lumps and coconut slivers to the few devotees gathered there and prepared to close the temple for the night. It was a tiny village consisting of some thirty to forty families who lived on farming land and livestock. The devotees at the temple all hurried to leave for their homes nearby, opening their umbrellas, as it was the monsoon season and had been raining heavily since the afternoon. The path leading from the temple to the main highway passed through some fields and was hence all muddy and swampy. The huts and cottages of the villagers were all built in close proximities to each other on the other side of the main road, thus leaving the farming lands free. Brijmohan himself lived in a small room adjacent to the temple structure with his five year old son Krishnamohan. He came to this village some two years ago when his wife died of malaria in order to save his son from a similar fate. As he was a Brahmin by caste, he was offered the priestly responsibilities of the temple as there were no other Brahmins in this village, the earlier priest having died some time ago from old age without leaving any successor. Thus Brijmohan came to live in this small village with his son whom he loved with all his life. He was both a father and a mother to his son now and had stubbornly refused to remarry even though a few proposals had come his way.

As Brijmohan was locking the temple doors he suddenly heard some fresh footsteps behind him. Looking behind he saw a bedraggled man in tattered and dirty white clothes carrying a red bundle in his arms. He was all wet through and through and water dripped freely from him creating little puddles wherever he stood. The man seemed very tired and exhausted and had a weeklong unshaved growth on his face. Brijmohan kept looking at the man enquiringly.

“What do you want?” he finally voiced his thoughts.

“Please, can I stay for the night here in the temple verandah? I am a traveler and have been walking all the day without food or rest. I shall leave in the morning.” The man begged in a dry, hoarse voice.

“What is your name and where are you going?”

“Harilal. I am a grocer in the village of Chitalpur some seventy miles from here. I am going to see my only sister who lives in the village of Kalindi and is seriously ill. It is still about two days’ journey from here.”

Brijmohan felt undecided and hesitant. He was comparatively new to this place and did not know the region or the residents that well. He had been appointed as the temple priest and was hence responsible for its safety and protection. However, he felt that his duty also required him to uphold the righteous ideals and conduct of a true devotee of the Lord whom he worshipped. He lived in an Indian village where the prevalent customs welcomed a needy traveler. And he would not behave hypocritically by preaching love in the temple but suspiciously refusing help in practice. So he did what his priestly piety asked him to do. He allowed the traveler to stay the night under the covered verandah of the temple. However, he ascertained that the lock on the doors to the inner sanctum housing the altar and the idols of Radha and Krishna was properly secured. After that, he gave the remaining Prasad to the man and left for his room behind the temple.

As he hurriedly closed the door of their room to keep the rainwater out, Brijmohan saw his son crouching on the floor near their bed that stood by a wall. He seemed to be peeping under it.

“Are you all right, Krishna?” Brijmohan asked in concern.

“I am fine father. But the dog is not.” The boy answered looking up at him.

“What dog?”

“The black one that has taken refuge under our bed to save itself from the rain outside. He is trembling continuously.”

“What? Turn it out immediately. It can go somewhere else. Otherwise, it will surely dirty this room.”

“Oh father! It would be so cruel to do that. Please let it stay for the night. It could leave in the morning.” The boy looked at his father with his large innocent eyes filled with imploring.

Brijmohan was touched. He could never refuse his son the few requests that the latter made. The boy was quiet by nature and Brijmohan kept worrying that the lack of a mother’s care would affect the child’s wellbeing. He smiled at the boy and nodded assent.

“All right. Leave it there now and come and have your dinner. But the dog has to go out the moment it stops raining tomorrow.”

With that he went to the other side of the room where there meager kitchen was arranged and laid out the plates on the floor. He took down the rice and curry that he had cooked in the afternoon from the shelf and started dividing it between themselves. After that he took the pot of milk and looked at it thoughtfully. He warmed the milk as usual for having it after dinner but tonight he poured out only one tumbler out of it and put it in front of his son. The rest of the milk he drained in a wide and shallow bowl. Krishna was watching him and felt surprised.

“Why did you put that milk in the bowl father? You are not having any?” he asked.

“No son. I feel a bit uneasy tonight. You give this warm milk to that dog. That will stop his trembling.”

The next morning, Brijmohan was up with the dawn’s first rays. He went outside. It had stopped raining and a rain-fresh breeze was blowing. The birds were all chirping and stirring up for the day ahead. He drew water from the well and finished his morning routines. After that he filled the water vessels and carried them inside. He then sat down to his daily meditation for an hour after which he woke his son and prepared him for the day. They then breakfasted on some fruits and Brijmohan left for his morning services at the temple. He generally returned after a couple of hours to take his son to the village school across the main highway.

“Well Krishna, I am going to the temple now. You be a good boy and let the dog out after a while. I shall return as usual and take you to the school.”

But the events turned out very differently from the usual that day. As Brijmohan stepped into the temple, his heart missed a beat. The doors of the inner sanctum lay wide open! He rushed inside and all his worst fears were realized. The gold jewelry adorning the idols were gone. The lock lay on the floor broken. His pious faith in the traveler yesterday had been betrayed. He let out a loud cry of anguished alarm and sat down on the floor holding his head with both his hands. The room went black in front of his eyes and he felt dizzy. How was a poor man like him to replace the gold jewelry that the villagers had put in his custody?

“What is it father? Why did you scream?” Krishnamohan asked. He had run to the temple from their room after he heard his father’s loud lament. The black dog also had followed behind him and stood wagging his tail.

“We are done for Krishna. Look. The jewelry adorning the idols have been stolen. It must be the traveler whom I allowed to spend the night here.” Brijmohan pointed towards the bare idols.

“Oh my God! That is really terrible. So what should we do now father? Maybe the villagers will understand if you explain things to them.”

“I don’t know son. We are new to this place. I cannot expect understanding and trust from the poor folks living here after this mishap. And even if they did, it would still be terrible as I am the one responsible for all this.” Brijmohan wiped his forehead with a corner of his dhoti.

Meanwhile, the dog was sniffing at the broken lock intently. He looked at them and gave a couple of sharp barks and ran out of the temple. The father and son were too worried to notice his departure. Brijmohan slowly got up and took his son’s hand.

“Come on son. You return to the room. I shall go to see the village chief and inform him about the theft. Let us prepare to face the truth at the earliest.”

“No father. I too shall go with you. You do not have to walk alone.”

Both father and son walked slowly out of the temple towards the cluster of huts and cottages. However, by the time they reached the main highway, they saw the black dog limping on the road towards them, carrying a dirty red bundle in its mouth. One of its ears was torn and was bleeding. He approached them and dropped the bundle in front of them and gave a joyful bark.

Brijmohan could not believe his eyes. This looked like the same bundle that the traveler yesterday had been carrying. He bent down and slowly opened it. Inside were all the jewelry taken from the temple idols wrapped in some dirty soiled clothes! He sat down once again on the ground with his head in both his hands.

“Oh Krishna! Is this your divine game? I trusted a man and he betrayed me, while my kindness to an animal has saved me.”