The Times They Are a-Changin’

By Vijay Sabharwal

The Times They Are a-Changin’

‘New’ it may well be, as the India of today diverges rapidly from the past. ‘Social’ is a word closely linked to digital media, and less to its original meaning, of being related to society. I cannot but feel nostalgic for a simpler time when individuals measured their worth on the basis of what they could do for their fellow men.

I recall that, having settled in Kurukshetra after the bloody Partition of undivided India, my father followed a simple rule: serve food to another individual before serving oneself. Quaint as it may sound, youngsters from New India may wish to take note that sometimes these selfless practices actually served one’s own best interests, as well!

In 1964, one of my father’s agricultural trading firms received a notice from the Excise and Taxation Officer (ETO) imposing a penalty of about Rupees Two Thousand (Rs. 2,000) for not submitting sales tax returns.

Now, the firm in question had, in fact, ceased trading two years earlier. On the day of the hearing, my father reached the office of Excise and Taxation at Kaithal (50 kilometers from Kurukshetra), along with the ‘munim’. My father was taken by surprise when the Excise and Taxation Officer, on seeing him, stood up from his chair and asked him to have a seat. The ETO enquired about the reason for my father’s visit, upon which he showed the notice.

At this point, the ETO said, “Lala ji, I think you have not recognised me”. My father looked at him more closely, trying to place the man, and apologized for not being able to confirm their acquaintance. At this, the ETO said that good people, after showering help, usually forget the beneficiaries of their generosity. The ETO reminded my father that he was standing in front of his office on the main road, in Kurukshetra, when the ETO stopped his ‘rikshaw’ to ask him the way to some good ‘dharamsala’. “I told you that I had missed the last bus for Kaithal and would have to spend the night at the ‘dharamsala’, to be able to take an early-morning bus at 6 am to reach my office.”

The ETO recalled that my father said that “there is one ‘dharamsala’ near the railway station, but you may not get a good ‘rajae’ (blanket) to protect from the chilly cold.” “You insisted that I must stay in the guest room, in your office. You served me dinner, and I was humbled when you woke me at 5.30 am, with a cup of tea and some eatables in your hand. You never asked who I was.” My father responded that it was only his custom to serve someone else before eating his own meal, and nothing more.

The ETO did what he could to help my father, and let it be understood simply that sometimes what one does selflessly, for the benefit of society at large, can also help oneself at a different time. There are some lessons that ‘Old India’ can still teach the new one.