THE RESERVED JUSTICE
Dr. Parimala Someswar.
It was Sunday morning. Ram Sarma was brushing his teeth near the water tap in the backyard.
He was sitting on a platform raised around a hundred year old peepal tree.
He was living in the tiled house constructed by his grand father. Theirs was a family of purohits.
They performed vedic sanskaras in the village. Birth, death, marriage, annual death ceremony-
nothing would be done in the village households without the presence of the members of his
house. Boys in his family started learning Vedas right from the age of eight.
Ram Sarma’s father Narayan Sarma was the first man in his family to have a formal education
in a school. He passed high school education, but he could not go for college. Being the only
son and having lost his father at an early age, he had to follow his family profession for
livelihood.
His main ambition in life was to make his son Ram Sarma a college graduate and put him in a
Government job. Graduation in his days meant a post of “tahasildar” if not a collector. Now at
least a clerical job would do for his son. Not a purohit duty for him. Never.
He also knew that getting a degree and a job for a poor Brahmin was not an easy task, unless
he was extraordinarily brilliant. There were reservations in educational institutions and
government jobs. After the reserved seats were filled, there was competition among the rest.
Could his son come out of this padmavyuham of complex socioeconomic system successfully?
Time alone would decide. He believed in karma.
One gets what one was due to him. No one can decide one’s fate. Ram Sarma was now in the
tenth standard.
While he was about to finish brushing, he heard the backyard gate creaked open. He saw a
boy of his age entering the house carrying a bucket and broom.
“Suresh! You!”
Ram Sarma exclaimed.
Suresh was his classmate.
“Yes. I came here to clean your toilets,” Suresh murmured with an awkward smile.
“But why?”
“Because I am a ‘safayee’. I am the son of Pyarelal who cleans your toilets. Today he
could not come because of fever.”
It took some time for Ram Sarma to get things fall in place.
“Tomorrow I may not attend the school. I have to do my father’s duty till he gets well.
I brought your note book. Take it”
Suresh handed over the note book to Ram Sarma.
Just then Ram Sarma’s mother Sridevi came out of the house and was shocked at the
scene.
“Ramu, What are you doing? Don’t touch the book,” She screamed.
She looked at the book as if it were a poisonous snake.
“What happens if I touch the book? It is my book only. I need it for tomorrow’s class.”
Ram Sarma grabbed the book from Suresh and held to his chest.
Sridevi did not know what to tell her son in the presence of Suresh.
The decency of mind won over the long practiced social customs and she stood there
watching the situation with anguish.
Though she did not utter a single word, Suresh understood the unspoken words and went
towards the toilets, crestfallen.
When Ram Sarma followed his mother into the house, Sridevi shouted loudly, ”Have you seen
what your son has done? He touched the scavenger boy and brought the book from his hands
into the house without following any cleansing methods.”
Narayan Sarma came out from puja room.
He understood the situation at once.
“Ramu, why did you touch the book from his hands?” He asked seriously.
“It is my book .What is wrong to take my own book from him?”
“He is a scavenger boy…”
“So what?
“He is not clean. He cleans toilets. We should not touch him.”
Better sense prevailed over him not to mention the caste and class order.
“What if he cleans the toilets? He is doing his father’s duty just as you are following your
father’s profession for a livelihood”.
Narayan Sarma knew those days were changing. One should change according to ‘yug
dharma’.He was a man who knew his Dharma very well.
He kept silent.
But Ram Sarma did not keep silent.
“In western countries, there are no scavengers. People clean their own toilets. There are many
Indians who settled there and they also clean their toilets. But we respect them, because they
are educated and wealthy. If Suresh is untouchable, all the westerners and the Indians living
abroad also should be untouchable.”
He went away leaving his parents dumbstuck.
Sridevi suddenly remembered her brother’s son who settled in the U.S. long back. The very
thought coupled with her son’s words made her uneasy. She felt devastated. Actually, Suresh
was not a close friend of Ram Sarma. But after seeing him in his house as a scavenger, he
developed a curious interest in him.
Earlier, he never treated the scavengers working in his house as individuals. He did not
recognize their features including those of Suresh’s father. They were a routine sight like a
wall, a water tub, a stray dog or a sleeping cat. Suresh used to wear always old and torn
clothes; he never seemed to be ashamed of them. One day Ram Sarma gave his old shirt to
Suresh without the knowledge of his parents.
Suresh took it casually without saying even thanks. He seemed to be used to such favors.Ram
Sarma’s mother used to give old clothes to servant maids. But donating clothes to his own
classmate was something exciting.
Ram Sarma used to observe Suresh from a distance and admired too. Yes. A man who had
outgrown his surroundings and outshone his creed breaking the chains of long drawn
oppression and unjust social order was worth the admiration.
As he was observing, Ram Sarma came to feel some closeness with Suresh, because, in spite
of being at the opposite poles of caste order, both of them shared the same school and
gained the same knowledge and secondly both of them were sharing the same poverty along
with millions of Indians. These shared similarities made him a close friend at heart. Some
unknown boundaries between them seemed to be melting away. Was there any karmic
relationship between them?
After passing the school they both joined Junior college. Ram Sarma took Biology and Physical
sciences as optional subjects, as it was his secret dream to become a doctor. Suresh took arts
subjects stating that he could not put hard work to get through science subjects.
Ram Sarma passed in first class and Suresh passed in third class. Suresh got a seat in a
government degree college easily because of reservation for the backward classes. But Ram
Sarma had to wait for admission for a long time in spite of his first class and with great difficulty
he got seat in a government college. Before joining degree course Ram Sarma wrote entrance
examination for medicine, but he could not make it since the competition was very tough.
Among the so called socially forward castes defined by the authorities, his caste was neither
wealthy nor politically strong.
There were only two or three forward castes which had political influence and with their power
and money they could join corporate colleges or even rig the entrance results. If political virus
spreads into the education system, it not only destroys the education system but ruins the
entire social structure.
Since Suresh and Ram Sarma joined different colleges which were far away from each other,
they could not see each other often. They could not speak on phone also because none of
them had phone in the house. The only way of communication was physical presence.
Three years passed. Ram Sarma became a graduate. The long cherished desire of his father
was fulfilled. For some time he sat at home with the self-assumed glory of being a graduate.
Next step was to get a job in a government office. But no government post was open to him. In
fact, the state government suspended new recruitment to all posts as an economy measure.
The government wanted to improve the economy by stopping the new recruitments, reducing
the age of retirement and also denying the pension benefits to the retired people stating that
they already had enough while they were in job.
Besides this, the government made landmark achievement by cutting down the power supply
ten hours per day and reducing the water supply by sixty percent after increasing the tariff
rates by fifty per cent in both.
At the same time a resolution was passed in the State Assembly to double the honoraria of the
members of the assembly and the ministers. The economy measures did not apply to them ,
because what the members did was not a job but service to people.
Then Ram Sarma tried his luck at private institutions. There also he faced disappointment. His
educational qualifications were found to be not suitable for the jobs he applied.
“We want a commerce graduate to look after the accounts. But you are a science graduate.
How can you maintain the accounts?”
“It is not a big thing. I can learn after getting a briefing for a week or so.”
“We have no time to give training to raw graduates.”
In another office they wanted a clerk who knew good drafting. “Being a science graduate how
can you prepare drafts? Only arts graduates could do.”
“Though my optional subjects are sciences, I got seventy per cent in English.I am good at
writing the drafts.”
But they did not want to take a chance with him.
Perhaps they did not know that many writers and novelists were science graduates and taking
literature as an academic subject would kill the creative skills very often. But no takers for his
argument. For some jobs he was found not suitable and for some jobs he was found over
qualified.
His caste also became a hindrance for the job. “You are a Brahmin, the highest caste. How can
we give a menial job to you?” They worried.
For the first time in life Ram Sarma realized that every Indian was born with a congenital
disease called caste. Just like all congenital diseases this caste had neither cure nor
prevention , because caste was something obtained by chance, not by choice. Once you are
born in a caste, you have to bear it. You can never get out of it. One can change one’s
religion, but one can not change one’s caste. It has to stay forever, till and even after death.
While he was struggling for a job, one evening Suresh suddenly appeared at his door step.
Ram Sarma saw him after a lapse of almost three years. Suresh had grown tall and he was
looking more handsome.
“Did you get any job?” That was the first question posed by Ram Sarma.
“No. I am in search of job. I am attending interviews. What about you?”
“Nobody is calling me for interviews. I am only going from office to office in search of jobs. I am
literally begging them to give me a job. Any way, what made you come so suddenly? “
“I have no good clothes for attending the interviews. All my dresses have become old.
Can you please give me a good dress?”
Ram Sarma was staring at him. The scavenger boy had become a graduate. But his poverty
remained the same. His own position was no better.
Narayan Sarma was also standing there only.
Ram Sarma went into the house and brought a dress which was not so old.
His father did not object to it. After all, he was a graduate, worthy of consideration.
“A phoenix rising from ashes?” Narayan Sarma was thinking.
Suresh took the dress from Ram Sarma and went away saying “Thanks”
Then Ram Sarma realized one thing. Suresh entered their house for the first time from thefront
door, not through the backyard gate. Was it any indication about what his father thought of it?
Ram Sarma was wondering.
Mother was also silent. But she was obviously unhappy with all these things. She was reading
news papers. In a democratic secular country like India, showing discrimination and disrespect
based on caste and religion was a great offence. She also knew that the law of the land was
the greatest dharma one had to follow.
After a few months lapsed, the government lifted the ban on recruitments temporarily and Ram
Sarma started job hunt vigorously. For him there were no illusions of an officer job. Any job with
a fixed monthly salary would do. What was the use of having a first class degree without getting
a livelihood from it? There also he found hindrance because of his caste. All the vacancies
available were meant only for reserved categories.
At last he was offered a peon’s post in the office of the district collector. Initially, he was
hesitant to accept the offer, but the long ordeal of job hunt made him join the post. His father
Narayan Sarma also encouraged him to join because it was a government post and he would
be considered for higher post in future once he was there. For the first one month Ram Sarma
felt embarrassed to do the job of carrying files to the tables and bringing chai from the hotel.
But gradually he got used to it. What is wrong in carrying files? Even the officers carry files to
their superiors. There is nothing to be ashamed of. Whatever was done legally was well done.
Being born in a family which believed in karma and dharma, he accepted his duty gracefully.
After passing of one more month, one day there was buzzing activity in the office. The office
was cleaned well and the files arranged neatly to welcome the new collector who was going to
take charge at 11.00AM that day.
All were well dressed including Ram Sarma and the entire personnel from top to bottom were
waiting for the collector at the gate.
The collector arrived at 11.00AM sharp. The collector got out of the car whose door was kept
open by Ram Sarma as a gesture of respect.
Ram Sarma was shocked to see that the new collector was none other than Suresh. Suresh
was wearing the same shirt he had given him in the evening a few months back.Suresh was
also surprised to see Ram Sarma there. Immediately he could realize Ram Sarma’s position in
the office.
“Hi Sarma? How are you?”
Suresh shook hands with him and went into his office with other officers. The other employees
were surprised at this scene.
“Sarma, do you know the collector? How lucky you are to have a collector as a friend and
shake hands with him!”
They were all admiring him.
But they did not know that there was a time when his parents objected to touch a book from his
hands. Ram Sarma looked dazed through out the day. He was unable to fit the image of the
collector in the image of the boy with bucket and broom. After going home Ram Sarma narrated
the incident to his father.
There was a long silence.
Narayan Sarma said slowly breaking the silence. “At last, Suresh has got the justice reserved
for him. He could successfully break the social order of inequalities created by our forefathers
for generations. Some day it had to happen and now it happened. Our society always thrived
on exploitation and oppression of one class by the other. But it could not go on for ever. Now
the equation reversed. The oppressed became the ruler. Some day the balance of justice
should tilt. The sufferer should get justice. God gave him the justice which was due to him in
the form of reservation policy of the government. In a democracy constitution does what God
wishes to do”.
***
(The Telugu original is translated into English by the author)