That Eurasian

by Aleph Bey

Months passed. I gave myself wholly to my studies with true delight in them. I rose from one grade to another, and became quite happy except when I thought of those who had gone. I was still the “Little One,” for even the sahib and mem sahib had come to call me by that name. I became used to it, as it suited me as well as any other.

One morning the sahib who had found me in the serai and brought me to the school came, with several others, with our sahib into the yard. Most of the boys were at play, but stopped to look at the sahibs. Standing a little behind them I heard the magistrate sahib, as I learned he was called, ask, “Where is the boy I brought you who never had a father?” “That Eurasian?” said our sahib, “we call him the ‘Little One,’ as he had no name and he is the smallest one of the lot.” One of the other sahibs asked, “Why not call him Japhet, and some day he can go in search of his father?” They all laughed, and our sahib said that “Japhet” might do as well as any other, so I was Japhet to him ever afterward, and to others to this day.

The older boys, however, had a chance. They exclaimed “That Eurasian!” as applied to me, so I was “That Eurasian” to them, and this name abideth with me still. Thus it was that I came by my two names that through all my life have been hurled at my poor head; one the donation of a Commissioner, the other of our worthy Padri. If I never got anything else from that school, I got this legacy of names.

A number of months now passed, when one morning the magistrate sahib came again. Passing into the yard I overheard him say, “I am greatly interested in that Eurasian, or, as I think, we named him, Japhet, the one in search of his father. What kind of a boy is he?” Our sahib replied, “He is one of, or rather, he is the best and brightest boy we have in school. He is a little one, as we for a long while called him, but he leaves the larger boys behind in all his studies.” This was so unexpected to me that I dodged behind a pillar; still I could hear what was said. The magistrate continued: “I have often thought of him, in fact, taken a fancy to him, and if you don’t mind, and will let me have him, I will take him away and educate him myself.” As the magistrate had brought me there, and as he was the big man of the district, whose word was law, and as our sahib had a great respect, almost fear of him, any boy of us could have told that his proposal would be accepted.

Our sahib in reply said that he would be sorry to lose Japhet, but it would be for his good to go, as he would have greater advantages. He then called out to the crowd of boys, “Japhet! Where is Japhet?” One of the larger boys pulled me out from behind the pillar, and brought me into the presence of the sahibs. Little as I was and ignorant, I was conscious that I ought not to have heard what was said about me, and I held my head down in shame, though they probably thought my embarrassment was caused by fear of the sahibs. It is often in life lucky as well as unlucky for us that we are misunderstood.

The magistrate smiled upon me. What a world of pleasure there is in receiving only a smile! They cost so little, why are they not oftener given? As he turned away he said to our sahib: “I will let you know in a few days.” Shortly after, going among a crowd of the larger boys among whom I was so small that I was hid by them, one, who understood English better than most, called out, “Do you know what the magistrate sahib said about that Eurasian?” “No,” said they, “what was it?” “Why, he is going to take him out of the school, and educate him himself!” “Wah! Wah!” shouted some of them, who were rather envious of me for being promoted out of their classes. They had also twigged the story of Japhet, and said: “Then he will go in search of his father!” “But he never had a father!” said another. “Wah! Wah!” was the only reply. I did not like the bantering tone, though I did not understand the joke, but as I had heard what the magistrate sahib said, these little things did not disturb me much.

As the months passed, the magistrate sahib often came with our sahib into the yard as if to see the school, but when I saw his smile towards me, I felt, though I never dared say so, that he came on purpose to see me. One day, as he turned to go out, I overheard this remark: “He is quite small yet, perhaps I had better wait awhile.” This startled me, and made me fear that I might never grow larger, and always have to remain. This, then, was the reason why I was not taken away. I at once made up my mind that I would grow, make myself taller by some means. The first step was to find out how tall I was, so I stood by a post in the house, and had one of the boys mark with a pencil my height, and to conceal my object, I made a similar mark for him on another post, suggesting that every Sunday morning we would come to the posts and see how much we had grown during the week.

I studied the subject very carefully. I concluded I must eat more, that I must take more exercise, walk, run and leap, and especially to practice on the bars, and suspend myself from them by my arms and chin. I had serious thoughts of tying a rope to each of my legs, with stones at the other ends to hang down over the foot of the charpoy at night, but fear of the ridicule of the boys prevented me doing this. I found myself when walking or sitting in school, straightening up so as to be as tall as possible. I often ran to a little hillock outside where there was a good breeze. I then expanded my chest; took in long breaths to see if I could not swell and make myself broader. I swung my arms around, drew them backwards, upwards and downwards, turned somersaults, as if bent on becoming an acrobat.

I often wanted to go and measure, as I felt sure that I was growing, but waited patiently for Sunday morning. It came. The result was surprising. I was above the mark, while the other boy had not grown a hair’s breadth. I was elated, and determined to increase my efforts. The extra food, the abundant exercise, the stretching, bending, pulling myself upwards was everything, but I could not get rid of the idea that my mind had a good deal to do with it, so I thought constantly of growing, longing to be taller, wishing it with all the power of my mind. Aside from my studies, my mind was wholly absorbed in growing taller. I reasoned upon the subject like a philosopher, to get every advantage I could. Another week passed, again I had grown, and so on for a number of weeks, a little more each week. Then I became somewhat frightened. What if I go on at this rate? I would be like a tall bamboo, a great, awkward pole of a boy and man. I thought of our sahib; a tall, lean, lanky man, who seemed as if he never got enough to eat. Years afterward, when I could think more naturally, I concluded that he had stretched himself so much trying to look into heaven to learn about God’s decrees that he neglected broadening himself toward his fellowmen, for his religion was such a straight up and down thing that it lacked all breadth. He had so much theology, that it made him lean to carry it. The boys could not suggest a question about anything, but he had a cut and dried answer ready, as if he had it pressed and laid away in a drawer, like a botanical specimen. Everything in him was dried and prepared with care without any of the juice left. He was a good and kind-hearted man, in his way, but his way was very narrow. Yet, I can say this of him, without any exaggeration, that I think he did more good than harm, and is not that saying a great deal to the credit of anybody?

I was greatly pleased with the result of my endeavors, though somewhat alarmed at what might happen. If necessary, to prevent myself growing too tall, I would stop eating, take no exercise, carry a weight in my turban, and at night have two sticks, one at the head and the other at the foot of my charpoy, to keep me from stretching out too much; with these provisions in mind, I concluded to run the risk and go on for a few weeks longer. The same result followed.