That Eurasian

by Aleph Bey

As I had an experience in regard to the cultivation of opium, so I had to thwart a plan for the introduction of liquor. Anyone could see, at a glance, that these villagers of mine were prosperous, and had money to spend; so the greedy eyes of the agents of the Abkari Department did not overlook them. One of these men, in one of the villages, by his oily tongue, and the offer of a big rent, had nearly obtained the lease of a house, for the sale of liquor and opium. This was at once reported to me, and I was soon upon the ground. The opportunity afforded me a chance for a temperance lecture. The people were all collected one evening under the big tree in front of the school-house. I explained to them that their ancestors had never used opium or liquor; that their religion was opposed to the use of these things; that it would be a violation of their caste and custom, to degrade them all, and make them mlecchas or outcasts; that the use of them would be a waste of money. I portrayed all this with explanations, and begged of them that they would not degrade themselves, and destroy the good name they had got among the surrounding people. I wanted to touch their pride, as well as to encourage their feeling of moral responsibility. I saw that I had gained my point, and might have rested, but I reminded them of what I had done for their improvement and happiness, and as they well knew that I had never done anything to their hurt, they should trust me still, but if they should allow the sale or use of these injurious things, contrary to my wishes, I would have less interest in helping them in the future. Instead of this method, I might have given an order, forbidding the sale, and it would have been obeyed, but it was not my way of treating these people. I wanted them to take the responsibility, and to make them feel they had done the work, not I, by an order.

After the assembly broke up, the man who had lost his chance of getting a big rent for his house, stopped to ask some questions. “If the use of opium and liquor were so bad, why did the Sircar, who was the mabap to all the people, urge and compel them to raise opium, build distilleries and license places for the sale of sharab? Was the Sircar so bad as to be willing to injure the people? He had heard in the bazar of the station, that all the sahibs drank liquor, and that the khitmutgar of one of the Collectors had said that his sahib would often be drunk after dinner. All the sahib log were Esai log, Jesus people. If the Christian religion was the true one, then how could these Christians make opium and liquor for sale, and use them if it was wrong to do so?” A great question, as difficult to answer, as it is to excuse Jesus for making wine; and make an apology for Paul, recommending Timothy to take wine for his stomach’s sake. It is an unpleasant task to have to apologize for the wrong-doing of Christians. I explained that the sahibs were only men, and many of them often did wrong, which was no excuse for others. If other people should steal, it was no reason why he should become a thief, no matter who they were.

Why should he not ask such questions? They are asked daily throughout India. The occurrences in the European households, the tiffs between husbands and wives are freely discussed in the bazars, and are as well known as if they had been performed in the street in open daylight. The people may be heathen, and uneducated, yet they know a great deal more than they are credited with.

There was no more trouble after that about the culture of opium, or the sale of liquor in the villages. The people saw enough of the evil effects in the communities around them, where the government had established liquor and opium dens, to convince them that they had happily escaped a great calamity and nuisance.

Not long after this, one of the villages had an object lesson, when I happened to be present. A sweeper had been away to a village, attending some festival among his brethren, and returned in a great state of hilarity. At first he was only amusing, then began to take liberties, which the people resented. In return he gave them gali, pouring upon them the foulest abuse. I suggested, they tie him to a tree, and drench him with water, which they did till he was sober, a great crowd in attendance, to whom I gave a temperance lecture, with the subject before me. The next day the village committee came to me to inquire what punishment should be given to the man for his foul, abusive words. I suggested they put him on a donkey, with his face tail-wards, and as a dead vulture had been brought to me, from under one of the trees, that the skin of this stinking bird should be put on the sweeper as a headdress. He was soon in position, with his regalia upon him, and the donkey was led up and down the streets for an hour, while the crowd, including many from the other villages, for the report of the coming fun soon spread, made all possible sport with their victim, while the boys pelted the sinner with bits of earth and rotten vegetables. This I considered sufficient for the time, but the committee decided, that if he, or any one else, should commit a like offense, they should be tied up, drenched with water until sober, and then be flogged. I never heard of a case of drunkenness in any of the villages afterwards. The people became a law unto themselves in opposition to the philanthropic government that tried to make them drunkards.

Life with us went on with the monotony usual in an India station. From month to month scarcely anything, not even the unexpected, happened. The military officers were longing for a break out somewhere, no matter with whom, the French on the south-east, the Russians on the north-west, or with the border tribes, so long as it would give them something to do in their line. Their trade was war, and war they wanted, something to take the place of the everlasting drill, and to break up the tiresome routine of cantonment work. The members of the civil service had their daily grists to grind, and like toilers on a tread-mill, were glad when the days were ended. Though excluded somewhat, I could hear the murmurs of discontent. Few seemed to have any real interest in their work. They considered themselves as exiles driven away from home by necessity, to become naukars, and their great hope was in furloughs and the prospect of retirement. As I was at home I made the best of it, and my wife joined me heartily in promoting our mutual happiness. We had our books, magazines and papers, which gave us an abundance of enjoyment. Our large garden gave us recreation and pleasure, while our villages gave us work.

We often spent days with our friends, the villagers. My wife became the mama to all the women and girls and they were very quick to profit by her teachings. She visited them in their houses, criticised their ways of keeping house, and advised in regard to making their homes pleasant and comfortable. She showed them how to make various cheap articles. Soon all hands were busy in trying to excel each other in having the cleanest and best furnished house. There were no zananas, and the women had become so accustomed to seeing me at our assemblies that they freely welcomed me in company with my wife. It may appear very insignificant, but it has been one of the delights of my life to recall the great improvements made in the habits of these simple-minded villagers. The cost was so little and the results very great, showing what a little teaching and encouragement can do. Cleanliness became a pride, as well as a habit. If some kept their houses clean, others did not dare to do otherwise, if not from choice, for fear of remarks.

The houses were, however, not satisfactory, and my wife suggested that we build a model house. I selected a spot in a central place, and built one upon it as cheaply as possible, with a view to substantial use and comfort. It had two rooms, a small veranda in front, and an enclosed yard at the back, where the cooking could be done and various articles be stored. The walls were plastered with clay by the women with their skill at such work. Then came the furnishing. This model house, matted, charpoyed, stooled and cupboarded, with pictures cut from illustrated papers upon the walls, was good enough for a king, and probably much neater than what some of the lords in England not many years ago enjoyed. When completed, at one of our evening assemblies I called attention to it, and promised to give ten rupees to every one who would build a house like it. I explained to them that by joining together they could mould the brick, thatch the roofs, and do all the work themselves, without any outside help—all to work together like busy bees.

I suggested to the committee that the ground plot of the village should be enlarged, so as to allow of back yards, with alleys between the yards. This done, the work went on apace, and soon a number of houses were built. There was an abundance of grass on the borders of the fields. I engaged a mat-maker from the city, and set him to instruct the women as well as men to make mats. At first some hesitated, as it was not according to their caste to do such work, but they soon fell in, and it was not long before every house had mats for its floors. Many of the people had slept on the ground from sheer laziness or custom. I had a carpenter make same cheap charpoys and then thick mats were made for them. It was a mat-making community for a while, as no one wished to be outdone by his neighbor. Then came the making of rude shelves, on which they could place their trinkets, and soon every house had such a cupboard. Then little low stools, with twine grass bottoms, on which they could sit cross-legged if they chose, instead of on the floor as formerly. The desire for these new things became contagious, and their eagerness gave us great amusement.

My wife had offered to give the twine for the mats, the wood for the shelves, and the pictures for the walls, and still better than all that, she would give a looking-glass like the one she used, for each house when it was complete. This last offer took the cake, as every Eve’s daughter of them was bound to have a looking-glass, and gave her men folk no rest until they had built a house. I might have planned for days and nights together, before I could have caught on such a trick as effective as that. It was a woman’s instinct that did it. My advice and offer of ten rupees were nowhere compared to the looking-glass for the erection of new houses.