Tuesday, November 12, 2013

89. Incredible People



Thousand Full Moon:  Shri. Vasant Kelkar
Contributed By: Shilpa Kelkar
Translation: Rohini
Shri. Vasant Kelkar (83+), is a teacher by profession but is also a writer and a farmer in his own right. He is a devotee of Gondawalekar Maharaj and believes in simple living and high thinking. He has worked incessantly to educate the masses through his writings and staging street plays. People say that he is a living laboratory as he is always experimenting with some new idea. He has lived in Aundh, Miraj and now lives with his wife in Sangali. He says he is very happy and content and works to turn people towards the path of ‘nama smaran’ He follows a disciplined life style and follows the same morning routine as in Gondawale Ashram. He said since he cannot go to Gondawale he has brought Gondawalekar Maharaj to his house.
I received this narration from Shri. Vasant Kelkar and it sat in my in-box for a while as it was a bit too long to be addressed right away.  As I read it two nights ago I not only went through the entire spectrum of emotions but was on an emotional roller coaster! What incredible people!!
Here is the translation…
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Incredible People
This was around 1965 – 1966 I was a teacher in a school in Aundh that time. I was the class teacher of 9th A. I had a student called Sada Vhangar in my class. Sada was well built and lived in the nearby Nhavi (barber) village. Whenever a fair came to any nearby village Sada would be absent from school, on questioning him once about this, he mentioned that he competes in the wrestling matches in the fairs. Not only that but he also showed me the prizes he had won.  In the process I learned that Sada was the son of Khashaba Vhangar an intimidating herder from the Nhavi village.
Coincidentally that year we had decided to plant ‘Turmeric’ in our fields and needed some sheep to graze the land for soil preparation (the waste products of the herds serves as a fertilizer). I arranged for the sheep to be delivered to graze the field for five days and went to the field bright and early the day the work was to begin. I saw the sheep grazing from a distance and a man sitting on the divide milking a sheep. He was tall, dark complexioned and was wearing a dhoti, a turban and the typical sleeveless open front vest called ‘bandi’ a trademark of the herders. As I approached him he called out to me, “Welcome Schoolmaster, please come join me in my breakfast” and untied the bhakari (a thick roti made of barley or a similar grain) from its cloth and offered me a piece. It is customary to not refuse food when offered and so I took a piece and as I dipped it in the little milk in the cup before putting it in my mouth  he said, “my child really sings your praises school master” and upon asking who he was he replied, “ Am I not Khashaba from Nhavi Village?” I was a little taken aback. He was very strong and was carrying an axe as was customary for the herders. After giving some dry branches to the sheep Khashaba was resting for a while and I took the opportunity to strike a conversation. “Is everything OK this year? “ I asked. He rolled his eyes towards the sky and said “we totally depend on Him, Schoolmaster, when I married my daughter off last year; I sold some sheep and some of our grain. But I did right by her”.
“You have some land don’t you?”
“Yes, three acres. One acre by the well and other two in jiraee (land that depends on seasonal rain for irrigation), my brother cultivates it.”
Lunch arrived from my home at about two in the afternoon. I offered some bhakari and kalvan (Stew) to him. Initially Khashaba said,”why so much?” but then he took it. After lunch he prepared to take a nap under a shady tree. He spread his ‘Ghongadi’ an all purpose coarse blanket and took off his sleeveless vest. At that point I could see deep scars from whipping and beating on his back. I could not help but ask him what that was and he said, “This ugly gift is from the Gora Sahib (the white man). Khashaba was on forefront in the freedom fight of India. He was an active member of “patri-Sarakar” a group resisting the British rule. (Patri Sarkar was a gorilla group fighting the British. They would force the moneyed people to donate for their cause else they would hammer metal (patraa) to the feet of the non-compliers as punishment). He did not agree with the revolutionaries but conceded by saying that to gain something you have to lose something.
“We were fighting well and gaining ground on the British near Khatao, but due to some traitors and the strong push by the British five of us were captured. That is when they beat us like animals for three months. They wanted the names of those who were behind this movement. But Schoolmaster, we remained mute. We bore the beatings but did not give any names. We were sent to a jail in Karnataka for five years. For food we literally would get cooked grass and bread and very dirty water to drink. But we survived. After my release I roamed here and there for about a month and then came back home and found that I had nothing left. My home, family, livestock were all gone. Someone said that my son had gone to Puse Gaon to work in a hotel. I enquired about him but could not find him”
“And your wife?”  I asked.
He wiped his eyes and said, “Schoolmaster the white men and then the local thugs harassed her a lot and then eventually tired of the harassment and sexual abuse she hung herself by the Babhali-tree. I did not know about this but Tatya Bhosale who cremated her after the Panchanama told me about it. I got angry, my head was exploding from within so one evening I knocked on the door of the rich money lender one late evening and I settled the score with him for exploiting my wife. I finished him. I dodged the cops for four years but one day when I had come to Aundh to visit the Devi temple for Darshan I got caught in the dragnet. This time I was booked for murder in the princely state of Aundh. There was a court case and I was sentenced to life imprisonment. Schoolmaster, I was to die in jail not just once but little by little every day, either that or be released after twenty years. A long time passed and then I finally returned”
The question about how he came out before his sentence was over started bothering me but since Khashaba was going to be in my fields for five days, I suppressed my curiosity temporarily. The next day morning as soon as I went to the fields I looked for Khashaba but today it seemed as though he was in no mood to talk. When lunch arrived from home he accepted his portion but did not eat any. Instead he took it all home that evening.
Next day as I arrived in the field I gave some extra breakfast to Khashaba and asked whether everything was OK at home. “It is OK but kind of” “what do you mean kind of?” I persisted. I will tell you in the evening he said and started working in the fields. A lot of work was still remaining so I also got to work but could not wait for the day to end. As he was leaving I pointed to the food he was taking home and asked why?. He said they had no grain left at his house this year and was taking the food for his wife and son. I knew how tough it gets in the homes of farm workers when they run out of food. I could not fall asleep that night till I had decided what I needed to do with Khashaba’s situation. The next day I loaded my bullock cart with two gunny sacks of grain and approached Khashaba. “Khashaba, will you run an errand for me? I asked. “Sure he said, what needs to be done?”  “These sacks need to be delivered to the house of one Khashaba I know in the Nhavi village”, I said. Khashaba was overcome with gratitude but he accepted my gift.
Fifth day in the field was about to end and my question about Khashaba’s early release was still bothering me. I could not hold it in any longer and asked him to fill me in. He made me wait till the end of the day and started narrating.
“The princely state of Aundh was run by Pant Maharaja. He was very fond of horses and had quite a few in his stables.  One day one of his horses got sick and could not be cured by the Veterinarians, then the others started getting sick and Pant was worried.  The jailor happened to mention it to me and that is when I told him that I know what causes the horses to get sick and what the cure is. Pant summoned me the next day and I asked to be freed if I was able to cure the horses if not I said, they could hang me. I told him it is a kind of seasonal plant that when eaten by the horses will make them sick but another plant can cure the ailment. Pant called me to the Goddess Temple the next morning and I was made to take an oath of Bhairoba and Khandoba promising that I will not run away and then Pant signaled the guard to remove my hand cuffs.
I ran to the hills to collect the medicinal plant, the guards were following me. I was too swift for them but I did not run away. I had given my word and taken the oath of Khandoba. I started treating the horses. I would have their fodder weeded for the unwanted plant and would add the medicinal plant to their diet. The horses started feeling better and were fully cured in fifteen days. Pant summoned me again one day. I reminded him that he had agreed to my freedom if I cured his horses. He again took me to the temple and rewarded me with three acres of land the one I have now and asked me to make a living by raising and herding sheep. He also asked me never to cross Aundh borders for good. I also took an oath at his feet to do the same and gave him my word.  The land came, sheep and goats came. I remarried to setup the household and you know I have a son now.
We had completed our five days as was agreed upon. I invited Khashaba home that evening and honored him in a little ceremony as a freedom fighter and upon making the payment for the work, he refused saying I had already given him grain that he has to pay me for it. I forced the wages in to his son’s hand and bid Khashaba goodbye. Saying that he was carrying the burden of my obligation Khashaba slipped on his squeaking sandals and proceeded home.
Five years past in the hustle bustle of daily activity and since Sada, Khashaba’s son had dropped out of school I got no news of Khashaba.  I learned from some of my students that Sada had taken up herding. Days were going by and one day a field had came running with the news that our cow Lakshmi while in the process of delivering a calf was in trouble as the calf was stuck. I got dressed and ran to the cow shed. Lakshmi was on the ground and in pain. I could not bear the sight. I sent for the local doctor. He came and administered some injection but nothing changed. I sent for the bigger doctor from the nearby village, he also gave a couple of injections to Lakshmi but there was no change in her condition. The doctor finally came to me and said he can operate on Lakshmi but the things were not looking good. I am not a superstitious person but I did everything that any one suggested… from offering a chicken to the spirits to visiting the local temple but nothing seemed to help. At that point someone asked whether Khashaba should be called. I almost yelled at them for asking. “Go go and bring him here why are you asking?” I was told that Khashaba was ill so I sent the cart with the message, “come the way you are”. I was totally helpless at this point in time and could not do anything for Lakshmi, neither could I see her pain. In a couple of hours I saw the cart returning. The bulls were frothing at the mouth as they ran all the way. Khashaba alighted from the cart with the help of two men. He approached me and said, “Take it easy Schoolmaster, everything will be done”.  He went on to examine Lakshmi.  He felt her belly and asked that she be turned on the other side. I thought this was it. She won’t be able to survive this. But four men turned her on the other side and Khashaba examined her once more by feeling her belly.  Then he came to me and said, “Schoolmaster I think I know what is happening here. The calf’s skin, the size of a palm is stuck to the cow’s uterus and so the calf is unable to maneuver its way out.”  He sent his son to collect some medicinal plants and asked him to make a paste. He applied it to one side of the cow’s belly and took a metal rod and heated it in cow dung patties to red hot and placed it on the belly of the cow on top of the medicinal paste. The cow was in pain, there was a smell of burning flesh and then Khashaba threw the metal rod to the ground. At that very moment I thought I heard the musical notes coming from a flute and at that very instant felt Khashaba’s hand on my back. "Schoolmaster", he said, “We have won the war!” You cannot imagine every one's relief. But why did he say war? There was no Ram or Ravan from Ramayan; there were no Kaurav or Pandav from Mahabharata... But this was a battle for life... life of Lakshmi and the calf. It was as though Krishna had come in the form of Khashaba to rescue the situation.
The calf was born in the next half hour. Lakshmi stood up and started licking and cleaning him. There was a bald patch on the calf’s skin where it was stuck to Lakshmi. Khashaba applied the same medicinal paste there and we left the shed as the calf started drinking milk.
We invited a few people to our house in the evening and honored Khashaba with new clothes and some money for saving Lakshmi and the calf. As Khashaba was leaving with his son all he said was “I came just for you Schoolmaster, these days I cannot manage to do such things no more.”
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Art work courtesy internet

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