Chapter XIII
WHAT BIPIN OVERHEARD
Bipin Dat was returning from his morning prayers at the temple of Vishnu absorbed in thought. His brow was puckered, his eyes directed toward the ground, as he made his way slowly through the press in the bazaar. In his mind serious doubt had arisen regarding the power of the good tempered God of the great middle caste to avert the calamity which the astrologer persistently reasserted was suspended over his head. Manifestly, it was useless, he reasoned, to continue his offerings at the shrine of a deity, who either could or would not protect him, when the face of some other of the innumerable personages of the Hindu pantheon was turned with vindictive anger upon his career. The difficulty was to discover the God to be propitiated, as by an unlucky chance he might overlook the very one causing him so much unhappiness. Truly it was a perplexing situation for the worthy secretary. He almost wished he were a Mohammedan with only one God from which to choose.
With unbounded pride ever directing his vision to impossible heights, he had come to believe that eventually he might forsake the God of his birth and assume the right to pay tribute to Siva the mystical God of the Brahmans; but clearly this was not the hour for the worship of a deity enveloped in an abstract philosophy. A man with his ears and nose, if not his life, in momentary danger is inclined to resort to a more tangible incarnation of divine power, and possibly wrath. With terror enthroned in his soul, what more human than that he should turn to Siva in that deity's non-Aryan form, as the awe inspiring God of the mass of the people, or his wife the bloody fury, the serpent crowned Kali. On the morrow he determined to prostrate himself covertly in the temple of the third person of the great Hindu Triad, and see if a better result might not be obtained. He heartily wished he was within reasonable distance of a shrine of holy Mother Ganges, for assuredly immersion in the waters of the sacred river, could not fail to appease all the Gods, by this one supreme act of devotion.
So deeply absorbed was Bipin in this all important problem, that he had failed to more than casually notice the actions of a small boy with well fattened limbs, displayed to somewhat unnecessary advantage by a string tied round his waist with a charm attached as his sole approach to clothing.
At every few steps taken by the secretary, the small boy ran forward and interposing his chubby form, salaamed respectfully.
Several times Bipin had stepped to one side under the impression that the boy's intention was merely to show respect for one of such exalted station, but at last becoming conscious of the youngster's persistency, Bipin halted and frowned down upon him threateningly.
"How now, boy"? he asked sternly. "What do you mean by continually getting in my way"?
"Great Secretary Sahib," replied the boy. "I am the son of Mohurran Goshi."
"Wah"! exclaimed Bipin. "So you are the son of Mohurran Goshi. Well! what does the son of Mohurran Goshi mean by repeatedly making of himself a stumbling block for my feet"?