The Story of Jhabarmal

There are many people in this world who possess huge wealth, but who neither feed themselves nor feed others. Their wealth does not come under the category of bha.

I knew a big merchant, Sethjii(1), who sat on a hill of money. He always kept a vigilant watch to see that his money was not drained away by any means. He always bought secondhand garments from the market for his children. He would present the shop-soiled and torn sarees that were rejected by the shopkeepers and sold very cheap to his wife, Papaŕkumárii Devii (pápaŕ means “a round, thin snack made from pulse” – parpat́ii > pappad́i > pappaŕ >pápaŕ), and would advise her, “If anybody asks, say that the saree got torn accidentally by pricking the cooking spud while cooking pilau (poláo).”

For breakfast, Sethjii ate parched maize (jandá ká lábá) but would tell people that unless there were specially prepared sweet dishes like kalakand(2) and ghior [a sweet dish rich in clarified butter], a breakfast would not be delicious.

After so many years, I canʼt recollect the exact name of Sethjii. It was probably Seth Jhabarmal Jhunjhunwala. He hailed from Jhalawar [Rajasthan]. Sethjii was the richest man in town. Nobody dared to mention his name early in the morning because they feared that they would have nothing but parched maize to eat for the whole day if they did. Sethjiiʼs son was a schoolmate of my brother. His name was Naththumal Jhunjhunwala. Naththumal was very good in his studies. All the townsfolk felt very happy when he was promoted to class VIII, scoring the highest marks in all subjects. When awarding first prize to him, the Headmaster expressed his joy in glowing language. He said, “I hope that one day, this boy will bring name not only to my school but also to the whole country.” But “Oh, brother! What a strange thing, I have never seen such a thing in my life!”.

Strangely enough, Naththumal felt sad and a greater darkness clouded the countenance of Jhabarmal. I asked Jhabarmal, “Why are you so visibly worried on such a day of joy?”

He said, “Look here, Mr. Sarkar, if after completing his education my son becomes a university professor or a government officer, who will look after my business? It would have been much better if he had failed several examinations, because then I could have discontinued his studies on those grounds. Moreover, do you know, Mr. Sarkar, I have a genuine apprehension that he will form a movement with my factory workers to seek higher salaries. He will set them against me; he will form a workersʼ union with them. So I am thinking what to do. I have discussed the matter with my wife. She said, `When the boy is so good, so bright, let him continue to study. If you are reluctant to spend money on him, I can send him to my paternal house. My brothers will bring him up.”

That day, Sethjii had serious altercations with his wife. The wife of Sethjii did not eat anything on that day on account of her anger, sadness and disappointment. That of course made Sethjii rather happy because it saved him the cost of one dayʼs meal for one person.

One day, I eventually ran into Naththumal at the market. He came to me weeping and said, “Sarkar Saheb, I shall die by flinging myself under a running train.”

I asked, “Why so! You are such a small boy, how did such an evil thought occur to you?”

He replied, “My father says that he cannot afford my educational expenses anymore. The business is not running well. He has sustained a loss of Rs.1 lakh [one hundred thousand rupees] in the corn business.”

I asked him, “Is it a fact?”

He said, “No, Sarkar Saheb, it is not at all true. Actually he has made a profit of two and half lakhs. But in the fake account, he has shown a loss of one lakh to evade income and sales taxes.”

I asked, “Tell me what can be done then.”

Naththumal said, “Sarkar Saheb, please put in a word to my father.”

I said, “But your mother told me that she wanted to send you to your maternal uncle for further studies. Does your father have any objection to it?”

He replied, “Father said, `If he becomes educated, he will become a clerk (bábu) instead of a Seth and my business will go to seed.ʼ”

Looking at Naththumalʼs face, I felt a heaviness in my heart, but nothing could be done because in those days there was no “free students home” for meritorious students. So I could not do anything for him.

Finally, with great reluctance, Naththumal started to work in his fatherʼs office. His job was to write something in the fat, red ledger books. Whenever he saw me walking in the street, he would lower his face in shame. Such a situation was unbearable to me. Since then, he has never come within my sight. Jhabarmal had aborted a fine talent.

One day, Jhabarmalʼs father-in-law (samadhii or beyái(3)) [the father-in-law or uncle-in-law of a son or daughter] came from a faraway land to visit him. Jhabarmal was completely perplexed. Who knows how long his beyái will stay? One cannot treat the beyái with simple chapatti made of bulrush millet and chilli pickle. He arrived at around 10.30 in the morning. Jhabarmal stretched out both hands to welcome his beyái and said, “Welcome! Most welcome! How gracious you are to have set foot in the house of a poor man like me. Although my business is passing through a dull stage at the moment, on seeing you, I forget my sorrow. You are the right person to understand my sorrow. I cannot perhaps give you the kind of welcome that I could have, had my business been roaring. Even then, I shall try to do my best.”

The beyái said, “How does that matter, how does that matter, really? Please donʼt worry about it Sethjii.”

Jhabarmal said, “Look here, my honourable beyái. In our house, the cooking is done by 10 AM. But since you have come, the stove must be ignited again to cook for you. You are my esteemed beyái and some delicate dishes must be prepared for you, whatever may be my present financial condition. It will take at least two hours to do the cooking. But I canʼt keep you starving for such a long time. In fact, the water of my courtyard well is very good. For the time being, at least take a glass of water and cool yourself down. After that, come along with me. There is an excellent restaurant, the best restaurant of this place, the umda(4) restaurant, nearby. Its name is `Absolutely Pure Parot́á [A thin bread fried in oil or clarified butter] Shopʼ. They serve pure vegetarian meals cooked in pure ghee [clarified butter].”

Inspite of his fatigue from the journey, the beyái started for `the very pure parot́á shopʼ with his son-in-law. Jhabarmal told the restaurant manager, “This is my honourable beyái. He is a very wealthy man. He never eats anything on someone elseʼs account. I am such a close relative of his, but he wonʼt even eat on my account. So serve him all the best items that you have on your menu – kacaurii, kaŕi baŕi, ratuyá, ghior, kalákanda, sábudána ká pápaŕ, rábŕi and málái [all are Indian food delicacies; kalákanda, rábŕi, malái are made from thickened milk]. Moreover, you should also serve him anything else he may ask for.

After seating him down for lunch, Jhabarmalji said, “My dear sir, I have some work left in the shop, so please allow me to leave.”

Before leaving, he told the manager of the hotel, “Although on principle he does not eat anything on someone elseʼs account, even then he is my near relative and so I canʼt let him do that. Let him make the payment now. But I shall later reimburse him by forcing the money into his pocket. Since he is my guest, he must eat on my account.”

Then he told his beyái, “Dear sir, please eat to your heartʼs content and please donʼt fill your stomach by drinking water. Water you will take in my house. Nowhere on earth will you find such digestive water.”

After that, Jhabarmal returned home and told his wife, “Come, let us all take our lunch very quickly. We must finish our meal before beyái returns.”

This kind of man, Jhabarmal – it is immaterial to others whether he has property or not. So his wealth does not come under the category of bha.

Footnotes

[1] Shreśt́hii > shet́t́hii > shet́hii > shet́h; in South India, cet́t́i. In ancient India, the owner of 500,000 (five lakhs) gold coins (siinak) was called a Shreśt́hii.

[2] Kalákanda is a type of very high quality sweet made of condensed milk; ghior is a sweet dish prepared in western India with liberal quantities of ghee.

[3] Here in our locality [when the author was residing in Jamalpur], a beyái is called samdhii.

[4] Umdá was originally a Persian word. Some words used in Hindustani, such as umdá, paráyá [owned by others] and buland [height] do not change their gender according to the gender of the noun they qualify. An object of high quality will be called umdá ciij and not umdi ciij, although the word ciij is feminine. Similarly, one has to use paráyá even before a feminine noun and not parayii. It is a common error to write or say paráyii. The word buland will also remain unchanged before a noun whether the noun is masculine or feminine. The word bulandii is an abstract noun; it means “height”.

From: The Story of Jhabarmal

Source: Electronic edition version 9.0.13