The Loss of Inheritance

  Everyone in the village was proud of Raibahadur Thakur, who was the first person from the village to achieve such a coveted position. He was a government lawyer of Patna high court and later rose to a judge in the same court. 

Raibahadur was born in a hamlet, located on the bank of a small river, which was sixty kilometres away from the capital city. He was a socially well-rounded man. He used to help all the inhabitants of the village irrespective of their age, caste, creed or religion. Even though he lived in Patna, he used to visit the village on Holi and Diwali as well as marriage ceremonies or last rites of anyone who called on him. He always thought about the well-being of the villagers. He wanted to be with them through their pains and gains and when, on occasion, time didn't permit him to do so he felt sad about it. Whenever he came to the village he spared some time to interact with the young boys and girls born after he had left. He never forgot to greet anyone in the village and he was loved by all.

With the grace of God, he was blessed with a son and two daughters. His son was named Ram by his kith and kin, inspired by Raibahadurs generosity towards the villagers, just as that of King Dashrath as per the great Hindu epic Ramayana. His daughters had been married off with due pomp when the time came. His son was doing well in his studies so Raibahadur provided him with every facility to pursue his education and career of his choice without any disturbance. 

Raibahadur gave Ram the freedom to do whatever he wanted to do in his life. Seeing his friends, Ram expressed his desire to go to the UK for higher education. Even though Raibahadur had to borrow some money to meet the expenditure for his study in England he never discouraged him from doing so. He arranged everything that Ram needed to fly abroad. Ram did well in university too and soon got a job there. During his course, he met Riya, who was from India as well and the two of them soon became good friends. After getting jobs they planned to get married there. Ram simply informed his parents of his marriage after it was all done without including them in the celebrations. The young couple was caught up in their emotions, love, and marriage and in living their new life in London.

Meanwhile, Raibahadur was elevated to judge of Patna high court. He became busier with his daily routine work but never worried about life after retirement. When his time to retire came, Raibahadur found that he was bored with city life. He desired to shift back to his native village to live with the villagers. Now considerably aged, he and his wife started the second phase of their lives in the village. There was no one in the family to take care of them, but they managed the best they could.

In due course of time, Ram's mother fell ill. Raibahadur sent for Ram but he turned his father down saying he was busy settling into his new job and life. Soon after that, his mother bid goodbye to the world. When Ram was informed, he once again said he was too busy with his new family and expressed his inability to come home for the last rites. 

Raibahadur was very upset and disappointed. He thought desperately, If Ram did not come during the lifetime of his mother, he should have come at least now to see his mothers face one last time. Busy with his materialistic life in London Ram didn't understand the gravity of the matter. He simply declined the repeated calls from his father.

Seeing his sons plain and clear reply, Raibahadur was deeply disturbed. He was not able to come to the terms with Ram's heartlessness. Disheartened, he sobbed on the inside. He only thought was what he would say to the villagers who knew he had a son. The presence of a son was a must for lighting a mothers pyre. But there was no way out now. He had to face reality. He had to light his wife's pyre himself, despite having a son. 

It will be good if a son burns the pyre of his mother, whispered everyone in the village. But Ram having studied in England, it seemed, had become English as well. He didn't understand the value of these age-old social norms. He only knew how people lived in a westernised way. Fed up with the behaviour and attitude of his son, Raibahadur took a vow while burning the pyre of his wife that he would never call his son again. He gave up his last hope for his son as he finished the last rituals of his wife.

Some months later, Raibahadur heard about a boy in a neighbouring village whose parents were no longer alive. He was in his twenties. He was meek too. Raibahadur sent for the boy. 

How much do you earn in a month? Raibahadur asked the boy.

Five hundred rupees a month, Sahib, replied the orphan boy.

I will give you a thousand rupees per month. Will you stay with me? Raibahadur asked his tone heavy with both love and anger.

Yes, said the boy, his mouth wide-open.

Raibahadur confirmed, Okay, be with me from now onward.

The boy happily agreed to be with him.

 The boy never disobeyed his master. Steadily Raibahadur came to develop a deep trust in the boy. One day he asked him, Will you be my son?

The boy was caught off-guard and stood up in surprise. He thought the old man might be having some sort of illusion or becoming delusional with age. He ignored what Raibahadur confided in him that day. 

Another day Raibahadur again asked the orphan boy, You didn't answer the question I had asked the other day.

Sahib, I am taking care of you and you give me a good sum of money. What more can I expect from you, the boy replied after pondering for a while. 

I want you to be my inheritor, Raibahadur said.

The boy smiled and kept quiet. Raibahadur took him to registration office the same day and transferred all the property and land he owned to the boy. They both came home and lived like father and son. 

After two or three years, Ram showed up in the village and opened the gate of the house. The old man, Raibahadur, was taking rest and the boy was massaging his legs. 

My father... Ram called out. 

Raibahadur got shocked. He opened his eyes to ensure whether the boy, who was massaging his legs, was there. Then without seeing behind, he said, My son is here with me. Who are you who calls me father?

Papa, I am Ram. I have returned from England. I am ruined, Ram said in a submissive tone.

 

Raibahadur stood up brushing aside Ram's hands that were touching his feet and asked him to wait outside for a while. He opened the shelf in the room and brought out the documents highlighting the mortgaging of all his property and land to the orphan boy. He stood before Ram holding the papers in one hand and the orphan boy in the other and said, He is my son. I live in his house. 

Ram came out of the house, ran to the head of the village and explained all that Raibahadur had stated to him. 

The head of the village said, What could I do? What could I say to him? He himself is a retired judge of a high court. He knows more than all of us.”