Was the Goat an Inhabitant of Patna District?

After a long, long time, Akalmand Singh suddenly flashed in my memory. It was the last days of British rule. There was chaos everywhere, no law and order, a total disaster. All consumer and non-consumer goods, edible and inedible items, were scarce. Most things were hard to come by. Some were totally unavailable. The communication and transportation systems were in disarray. Travelling by train was hardly possible because they were crowded by soldiers. Bus transportation had been thrown out of gear due to non-availability of fuel. In certain areas buses were somehow running on alternative fuel.

The plight of the people in villages was still worse. In many places, boats, and in some areas, buses and bicycles had been confiscated so that enemies would not be able to take advantage of them. Textile garments were scarce, and so were rice, sugar and wheat. Most of the commodities were being used up by the militaryʼs. An excessive influx of foreign soldiers was ruining societyʼs sanctity. An excessive influx of foreign money and the random printing of currency notes had given rise to inflation. There was terrible disunity among the people. Some were in favour of partitioning the country, some were not, while others felt that partition was welcome if it brought peace. The people felt that the situation had become intolerable.

Bengal was about to be turned into a war zone. The situation in East Bengal was even worse. People died of hunger, not in thousands, but in tens of thousands, in Dacca, Noakhali, Midnapur and south 24 Parganas. The situation had come to a stage when something drastic needed to be done.

It was just at that time that the supply of sugar began to be regulated. This was done because, although there was a moratorium on the export of sugar, a large portion of the domestic production was being diverted for military use. Common people made tea with molasses or bhurá [a kind of unrefined and coarse sugar].

One day word went out that a quantity of sugar would be distributed from a shop in the city – half a seer [466.5g] per head (maund and seer were units of measurement those days). I stood in the queue for two hours and when I came out triumphantly with a quarter of a seer of sugar, I found Ujbuk Singh right behind me. I had known him for a long time. He was the driver of Akalmand Singhʼs car.

I asked him, “Hey, Ujbuk! Why donʼt I see your sahib these days? Heʼs well, I hope.”

He said, “Yes sir, heʼs fine.”

“Then why donʼt I see him these days?”

“Sir has been made a magistrate.”

“What, a magistrate! I thought it took immense education and passing many difficult examinations to become one! When did your sahib study so much, or, for that matter, when did he pass so many examinations?”

“The magistrate you are talking about is a real magistrate. True, it takes a lot of education and passing of lots of difficult examinations to become such a magistrate. But my master is not a true magistrate,” replied Ujbuk.

“Is he a false one, then?”

“No sir, he is neither a true magistrate nor a false one.”

“How is that?” I asked.

“He is an anáhári (honorary) magistrate, sir,”

“Oh! So what does he have to do?”

Ujbuk said, “If the sahibs are kept in a good humour, then anyone can become a magistrate. He is then empowered to fine a culprit to the extent of rupees twenty five.”

“So thatʼs why he is so busy these days.”

“Yes sir, he doesnʼt find time even to lift up his head from his work.”

“But,” I said, “some amount of education is required even in such a job. How is he managing?”

“He has found a good bench-clerk. He takes care of the work.”

“Who is the bench-clerk?”

“Donʼt you know him, sir! Sometimes he can be seen eating pakaoŕis [fried onions] in the market place. He is Págŕii Báhádur Singh.”

“Oh yes, I do know him,ʼʼ I said, ”I know him well.”

A few days later, while waiting in a queue to collect kerosene oil, I met Págŕii Báhádur. He was standing right in front of me.

I said, “Hello, Págŕiii, I hear you are now Akalmand Singhʼs bench-clerk!”

“Yes sir.” replied Págŕii Báhádur.

“You are doing well then, Iʼm sure.”

“I am well, sir. I just have to spend 99.9% of my life force to keep the situations under control.”

I said, “Why ? Why do you say that?”

“All right, let me tell you of two incidents.

Once, Akalmand Singh contracted an infection in his finger – áuṋgulháŕá [a whitlow]. As you know, the disease is locally known as kalkal in North India. However, ‘tomorrow’ as in `today – tomorrow – the day after tomorrowʼ is also called kal in the local dialect. Akalmand didnʼt go to his office that day, due to kalkal in his finger. He said to me, `I have to make an application to the district magistrate because I cannot attend office today. I do not find the word kalkal in the dictionary. I donʼt know what kalkal is in English. What shall I do?ʼ I advised him, ‘Write anything that comes into your head, Sir.’ Akalmand Singh said, `What shall I tell the district magistrate if he turns up personally to ask me?ʼ I said, `What is the English word for kal in the dictionary?ʼ At once Akalmand Singh became excited and said, `I got it &!.. I got it&!&!..I got it! Kál is tomorrowʼ, and he wrote, `As I am suffering from ‘tomorrow-tomorrow’ in my finger, I cannot go.”

* * *

Once Akalmand had a heated argument with Shanicara Kujra at the market, over the price of a cauliflower. Akalmand had angrily threatened him, “Iʼll show you whatʼs what if you ever come into my court room.”

Shanicara Kujra had been having a spate of bad luck those days. A few days later, Nakchedii Kaeriiʼs goat having chewed up half of a cabbage from his shop, Shanicara gave it a solid beating. An angry Nakchedii filed a case against him. As ill luck would have it, the case was to be heard by Akalmand Singh.

Akalmand Singh listened to Nakchediiʼs grievances. Shanicara also had his say. Three important points were noted by Akalmand Singh, which agitated his mind no end.

The first was that Shanicara Kujra hailed from an area under Barahia police station in Monghyr District. Barahia was separated by a canal from Mokama, a police station in Patna District. Nakchedii Kaerii belonged to Mokama police station, and his goat, as well as its ancestors, had been living in Patna District for years. What right did Shanicara have to beat up a goat, which was an inhabitant of Patna District?

The second point was, he had beaten up the goat so badly that, if it were a human being, its back would have been broken – the man would probably have died ! Therefore, if it had been a man instead of a goat, would it not have been a case of culpable homicide? Shanicara would then be liable under a penal clause IPC 3021/4 or IPC 3021/2, IPC 302? So, directly or indirectly, a case could be made out against Shanicara for the attempted murder of a man.

The third important point was that the goat had eaten the cabbage with its mouth, but had been beaten on its back. Its back was definitely not responsible for eating the cabbage! Why should the goat then be beaten on the back? Shanicara could, at the most, could have cut off its head, because the goatʼs mouth was the culprit, but he had no business beating it on its back.

Thus, all things considered, Shanicara was, in effect, guilty of culpable homicide. So he deserved a verdict of death. Akalmand Singh, therefore, sentenced Shanicara Kujra to death.

Shanicara approached the higher court.

The case went on for years. Finally, the higher court acquitted Shanicara because of lack of evidence against him with an observation that the ‘Learned Judge’ had not reached the conclusion on the basis of the evidence presented by both the sides and also that the ‘Learned Judge’ had not attentively heard the arguments of both the parties. Hence, the order of the ‘Learned Judge’ was not valid by law.

Now, no one had the courage to inform Akalmand Singh that the higher court had rejected his order. Everyone was extremely afraid of telling him the bad news, for fear of being punished with the death penalty! So no one dared to approach him to break the news.

Págŕii Báhádur Singh, the bench-clerk, was a cunning man. He was aware of the sensibilities of all the lawyers representing the complainants and the accused. He also understood the mindset of the concerned judge. So, everyone approached him and pleaded, “You are the only one who can solve this problem. You alone can help us out of this situation.”

Págŕii Báhádur Singh said, “Let me see what I can do. I have also to keep track of the sahibʼs mood!”

Akalmand Singh was at the court. Suddenly Págŕii, the bench-clerk, came to him with a thick dictionary.

Akalmand Singh asked, “What is that, Mr. Págŕii?”

“In English, this is called a dictionary, Sir. We call it abhidhán [in Bengali].”

“Why have you brought it here? Does it contain information on legal matters and case histories?”

“No Sir, it contains neither of the two. It is a book of knowledge.”

“Why are you so much interested in knowledge today, all of a sudden?”

Págŕii Báhádur said, “I have just received the copy of an order from the higher court. The words `Learned Judgeʼ have been used a number of times. The meaning of ‘judge’ we understand, but, ‘learned’! What does it mean? So I thought of looking it up in the dictionary.”

Akalmand asked, “Whom did the higher court refer to as the ‘Learned Judge’?”

“You, Sir. What I surmise is that the whole world has now recognized your learning, Sir. Letʼs see what it says in the dictionary. Although the higher court has struck down your order (thus, the bad news was conveyed), but the judgment has addressed you several times as the ‘Learned Judge.’ I want to know what ‘learned’ stands for.”

After a little while, Págŕii Báhádur jumped up and exclaimed, “There it is, sir, there it is! It has turned out just as I thought. Although the higher court has rejected your order, it has admitted a number of times that you are indeed a learned judge. I told you this, Sir! Your great learning has stunned everyone.”

Akalmand Singh, unaware of the banters around, said, “What! The higher court accepted me as a learned man?”

“Exactly, Sir.”

“Then, you had better not just file this document. Rather, put it in a golden frame and nail it on my sitting-room wall, so that every visitor can have a look at the marvellous glittering certificate. Let the world acknowledge the fact that although I did not become a magistrate by passing examinations, I am not inferior to anyone! Even the higher court has accepted me as a learned man.”