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Ch 9 - A Passage to India · A Passage to India

• 0:00
  Chapter nine, Azise fell ill, as he foretold, slightly ill. Three
• 0:09
  days later he lay abed in his bungalow, pretending to be very ill.
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  It was a touch of fever, which he would have neglected if there was
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  anything important at the hospital. Now and then he groaned and thought he should
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  die, but did not think so for long, and a very little diverted
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  him. It was Sunday, always an equivocal day in the east, and
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  an excuse for slacking. He could hear church bells as he drowsed, both
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  from the civil station and from the missionaries out beyond the slaughter house. Different
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  bells and rung with different intent. For one set was calling firmly to Anglo
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  India, and the other feebly to mankind. He did not object to the
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  first set, the other he ignored. Knowing their inefficiency. Old mister Greysford
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  and young mister Soorley made converts dirring a famine because they distributed food. But
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  when times improved they were naturally left alone again, And though surprised and aggrieved
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  each time this happened, they never learnt wisdom. No Englishman understands us except
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  mister Fielding, He thought, But how shall I see him again. If
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  he entered this room, the disgrace of it would kill me. He called
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  to Hassan to clear up. But Hassan, who was testing his wages by
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  ringing them on the step of the veranda, found it possible not to hear
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  him heard and didn't hear, just as Aziz had called and hadn't called.
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  That's India all over, How like us there we are. He dozed again,
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  and his thoughts wandered over the varied surface of life. Gradually they studied
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  upon a certain spot, the bottomless pit according to missionaries, but he had
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  never regarded it as more than a dimple. Yes, he did want to
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  spend an evening with some girls singing and all that, the vague jollity that
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  would culminate in voluptuousness. Yes, that was what he did want. How
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  could it be managed? If Major Calendar had been an Indian, he would
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  have remembered what young men are and granted two or three days leave to Calcutta
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  without asking questions. But the Major assumed either that his subordinates were made of
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  ice, or that they repaired to the Chandra poor bazaars, disgusting ideas both.
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  It was only mister fielding, who Hasan, The servant came running.
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  Look at those flies, brother, and he pointed to the horrible mass that
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  hung from the ceiling. The nucleus was a wire which had been inserted as
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  an homage to electricity. Electricity had paid no attention, and a colony of
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  eye flies had come instead and blackened the coils with their bodies. Huzur,
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  those are flies. Good, good, they are excellent. But why have
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  I called you to drive them elsewhere? Said Hasan, After painful thought.
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  Driven elsewhere, they always return. Uzor, you must make some arrangement against
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  flies. That is why you are my servant, said Azziz gently. Hasan
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  would call the little boy to borrow the step ladder from mammud Ali's house.
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  He would order the cook to light the primus stove and eat water. He
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  would personally ascend the steps with a bucket in his arms and dip the end
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  of the coil into it. Good, very good. Now what have you
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  to do? Kill flies? Good? Do it? Hasan withdrew the plan
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  almost lodged in his head, and began to look for the little boy.
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  Not finding him, his steps grew slower, and he stole back to his
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  post on the Veranda, but did not go on testing his rupees in case
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  his master heard them. Clink on twittered the Sunday bells. The East had
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  returned to the East via the suburbs of England and had become ridiculous. During
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  the detour, Aziz continued to think about beautiful women. His mind here was
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  hard and direct, though not brutal. He had learnt all he needed concerning
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  his own constitution many years ago, thanks to the social order into which he
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  had been born, and when he came to study medicine, he was repelled
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  by the pedantry and fuss with which Europe tabulates the facts of sex. Science
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  seemed to discuss everything from the wrong end. It didn't interpret his experiences when
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  he found them in a German manual, because by being there they ceased to
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  be his experiences. What he had been told by his father or mother,
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  or had picked up from servants. It was information of that sort that he
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  found useful and handed on as occasion, offered to others. But he must
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  not bring any disgrace on his children by some silly escapade. Imagine if it
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  got about that he was not respectable. His professional position too must be considered.
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  Whatever major Calendar thought. Aziz upheld the proprieties, though he did not
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  invest them with any moral halo, and it was here that he chiefly differed
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  from an Englishman. His conventions were social. There is no harm in deceiving
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  society as long as she does not find you out, because it is only
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  when she finds you out that you have armed her. She is not like
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  a friend or God, who are injured by the mere existence of unfaithfulness.
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  Quite clear about this, he meditated what type of lie he should tell to
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  get away to Calcutta, and had thought of a man there who could be
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  trusted to send him a wire and a letter that he could show too,
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  Major Calendar. When the noise of wheels was heard in his compound, someone
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  had called to inquire. The thoughts of sympathy increased his fever, and with
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  a sincere groan, he wrapped himself in his quilt. Aziz, my dear
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  fellow, we are greatly concerned, said Hamidula's voice, one, two,
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  three, four bumps, as people sat down upon his bed. When a
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  doctor falls ill, it is a serious matter, said the voice of mister
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  Zayd Mohammed, the assistant engineer. When an engineer falls ill. It is
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  equally important, said the voice of mister Hawk, a police inspector. Oh
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  yes, we are all jolly important. Our salaries prove it. Doctor Aziz
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  took tea with our principle last Thursday afternoon, piped Rafi, the engineer's nephew.
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  Professor Gudbullet, who also attended, has sickened two, which seems rather
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  a curious thing, Sir, does it not? Flames of suspicion leapt up
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  in the breast of each man. Hambug, exclaimed Hamidullah in authoritative tones,
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  quenching them. Hambug most certainly echoed the others, ashamed of themselves. The
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  wicked schoolboy, having failed to start a scandal, lost confidence and stood up
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  with his back to the wall. Is Professor godbulah Ill inquired Azziz, penetrated
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  by the news, I am sincerely sorry, intelligent and compassionate. His face
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  peeped out of the bright crimson folds of the quilt. How do you do,
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  mister sayed Mohammed, mister Hawk, how very kind of you to inquire
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  after my health? How do you do, Hamdullah? But you bring me
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  bad news? What is wrong with him? The excellent fellow? Why don't
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  you answer, Rafi, you're the great authority, said his uncle. Yes,
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  Rafi's the great man, said Hamidula, rubbing it in. Rafi is
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  the sherlock Holmes of chandrapor speak up, Rafi less than the dust. The
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  schoolboy murmured the word diarrhea, but took courage as soon as it had been
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  uttered, for it improved his position. Flames of suspicion shot up again in
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  the breasts of his elders, though in a different direction. Could what was
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  called diarrhea really be an early case of cholera? If this is so,
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  this is a very serious thing. This is scarcely the end of March.
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  Why have I not been informed? Cried Aziz. Doctor Panalal attends him,
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  Sir, Oh, yes, both Hindus, there we have it. They
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  hang together like flies and keep everything dark. Rafi, come here, sit
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  down, tell me all the details. Is there vomiting also? Oh?
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  Yes, indeed, Sir, and the serious pains that settles it. In
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  twenty four hours he will be dead everybody. He looked and felt shocked.
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  But Professor Goudbalay had diminished his appeal by linking himself with a co religionist.
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  He moved them less than when he had appeared as a suffering individual. Before
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  long they began to condemn him as a source of infection. All illness proceeds
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  from Hindus. Mister Hawk said, mister Sayed Muhammad had visited religious fairs at
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  Allahabad and at Ujain and described them with biting scorn. At Allahabad there was
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  flowing water which carried impurities away. But at Ujain, the little rivers Sibra
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  was banked up and thousands of bathers deposited their germs in the pool. He
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  spoke with disgust of the hot sun, the kao dung and marigold flowers,
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  and the encampment of Sadu. Some of whom strode struck naked through the streets,
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  asked what was the name of the chief Idol at Ujayin. He replied
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  that he did not know. He had disdained to enquire. He really could
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  not waste his time over such trivialities. His outburst took some time, and
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  in his excitement he fell into Punjabi. He came from that side and was
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  unintelligible. Aziz liked to hear his religion, praised. It soothed the surface
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  of his mind. And allowed beautiful images to form beneath. When the engineer's
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  noisy tirade was finished, he said, that is exactly my own view.
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  He held up his hand, palm outward. His eyes began to glow,
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  his heart to fill with tenderness. Issuing still farther from his quilt, he
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  recited a poem by Ghalib. It had no connection with anything that had gone
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  before, but it came from his heart and spoke to theirs. They were
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  overwhelmed by its pathos. Pathos, they agreed, is the highest quality in
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  art. A poem should touch the hearer with a sense of his own weakness,
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  and should institute some comparison between mankind and flowers. The squalid bedroom grew
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  quiet. The silly intrigues, the gossip, the shallow discontent were still,
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  while words accepted as immortal filled the indifferent air. Not as a call to
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  battle, but as a calm assurance came the feeling that India was one Moslem
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  always had been an assurance that lasted until they looked out of the door.
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  Whatever Ghalib had felt, he had and he outlived in India, and this
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  consolidated it for them. He had gone with his own tulips and roses,
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  but tulips and roses do not go. And the sister kingdoms of the North
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  Arabia, Persia, Ergana, Turkistan stretched out their hands as he sang sadly
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  because all beauty is sad, and greeted ridiculous chandrapur where every street and house
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  was divided against itself, and told her that she was a continent and a
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  unity. Of the company. Only Hamidullah had any comprehension of poetry. The
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  minds of the others were inferior and rough, yet they listened with pleasure because
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  literature had not been divorced from their civilization. The police inspector, for instance,
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  did not feel that Uzziz had degraded himself by reciting nor break into the
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  cheery guffaw with which an Englishman averts the infection of beauty. He just sat
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  with his mind empty, and when his thoughts, which were mainly ignoble,
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  flowed back into it, they had a pleasant freshness. The poem had done
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  no good to anyone, but it was a passing reminder, a breath from
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  the divine lips of beauty, a nightingale between two worlds of dust less explicit
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  than the call to Krishna. It voiced our loneliness. Nevertheless, our isolation,
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  our need for the friend who never comes yet is not entirely disproved,
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  Aziz. It left thinking about women again, but in a different way,
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  less definite, more intense. Sometimes poetry had this effect on him. Sometimes
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  it only increased his local desires, and he never knew beforehand which effect would
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  ensue. He could discover no rule for this, or for anything else in
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  life. Hamidullah had called in on his way to a worrying committee of notables
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  nationalist in tendency, where Hindus Moslems to seeks to parses a Jain and a
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  native Christian tried to like one another more than came natural to them. As
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  long as someone abused the English, all went well, but nothing constructive had
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  been achieved, and if the English were to leave India, the committee would
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  vanish. Also. He was glad that Aziz, whom he loved and whose
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  family was connected with his own, took no interest in politics, which ruined
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  the character and career. Yet nothing can be achieved without them. He thought
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  of Cambridge sadly, as of another poem that had ended, how happy he
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  had been there twenty years ago, politics had not mattered in mister and missus
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  Banister's rectory. There, games, work and pleasant society had interwoven and appeared
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  to be sufficient substructure for a national life. Here all was wire pulling and
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  fear Mesieus, said Muhammad and hak He couldn't even trust them, although they
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  had come in his carriage, and the school boy was a scorpion bending down,
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  he said Azziz Azziz, my dear boy, we must be going.
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  We are already late. Get well quickly, for I do not know what
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  our little circle would do without you. I shall not forget those affectionate words,
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  replied Aziz. Add mine to them, said the engineer. Thank you,
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  mister sayed Mohammed. I will and mine, and Sir accept mine,
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  cried The others stirred, each according to his capacity towards goodwill. Little ineffectual,
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  unquenchable flames which Hassan had run for into the bazaar, and Azziz drank
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  a cup of spiced milk. Presently there was the sound of another carriage.
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  Doctor Panalal had arrived, driven by a horrid mister ramchand the atmosphere of the
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  sick room was at once re established, and the invalid retired under his quilt.
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  Gentlemen, you will excuse me. I have come to inquire by Major
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  Calender's orders, said the Hindu, nervous of the den of fanatics into which
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  his curiosity had called him. Here he lies, said Hamadullah, indicating the
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  prostrate form Doctor Aziz. Doctor Aziz, I come to inquire. Aziz presented
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  an expressionless face to the thermometer. Your hand also, please. He took
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  it, gazed at the flies on the ceiling, and finally announced some temperature.
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  I think not much, said Ramchand, desirous of fomenting trouble some he
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  should remain in bed, repeated Doctor Panelal, and shook the thermometer down so
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  that its altitude remained forever unknown. He loathed his young colleague since the disasters
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  with Dapple, and he would have liked to do him a bad turn and
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  report to Major Calendar that he was shamming. But he might want a day
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  in bed himself soon. Besides, though Major Calendar always believed the worst of
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  natives, he never believed them when they carried tales about one another. Sympathy
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  seemed the safer course. How is stomach? He inquired, how had and
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  catching sight of the empty cup, he recommended a milk diet. This is
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  a great relief to us. It is very good of you to call doctor
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  Saib, said Namidula, buttering him up a bit. It is only my
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  duty. We know how busy you are, yes, that is true,
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  and how much illness there is in the city. The doctor suspected a trap
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  in this remark. If he admitted that there was or was not illness,
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  either statement might be used against him. There is always illness, he replied,
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  and I am always busy. It is a doctor's nature. He has
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  not a minute. He is due double sharp at Government College now, said
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  rom John. You attend Professor Goudboullet there. Perhaps the doctor looked professional and
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  was silent. We hope his diarrhea is ceasing. He progresses, but not
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  from diarrhea. We are in some anxiety over him. He and doctor Ruzzi's
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  are great friends. If you could tell us the name of his complaint,
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  we should be grateful to you. After a cautious pause, he said,
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  hemorrhoids. And so much, my dear Raffi for your cholera, hooted Aziz,
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  unable to restrain himself, cholera, cholera? What next? What now?
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  Cried the doctor, greatly fussed. Who spreads such untrue reports about my
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  patients? Honidula pointed to the culprit. Ah hear cholera, I hear lubonic
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  plague. I hear every species of lie. Where will it end? I
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  ask myself? Sometimes this city is full of misstatements, and the originators of
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  them ought to be discovered and punished authoritatively. RAFFI, do you hear that?
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  Now? Why do you stuff us up with all this humbug? The
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  schoolboy murmured that another boy had told him also that the bad English grammar the
• 23:07
  government obliged them to use often gave the wrong meaning for words, and so
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  led scholars into mistakes. That is no reason you should bring a charge against
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  a doctor, said Ramchand exactly exactly, agreed Hamdullah, anxious to avoid an
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  unpleasantness, quarrels spread so quickly and so far, and Mesieu sayed Mohammed,
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  and Huk looked cross and ready to fly out. You must apologize properly,
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  RAFFI. I can't see your uncle wishes it, he said, You have
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  not yet said that you are sorry for the trouble. You have caused this,
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  gentleman by your carelessness. It is only a boy, said doctor Panellal
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  appeased. Even boys must learn, said Ramchand your own son failing to pass
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  the lowest standard, I think, said sayed Mohammed. Suddenly, Oh indeed,
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  oh yes, Perhaps he has not the advantage of a relative in the
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  prosperity printing press, nor you the advantage of conducting their cases in the courts.
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  Any longer their voices rose, they attacked one another with obscure allusions and
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  had a silly quarrel. Amidullah and the doctor tried to make peace between them.
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  In the midst of the din, some one said, I say,
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  is he ill? Or isn't he ill? Mister Fielding had entered unobserved.
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  All rose to their feet and hassan to do an Englishman honor. Struck with
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  a sugarcane at the coil of flies, Aziz said, sit down, coldly,
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  what a room, what a meeting? Squalor and ugly talk? The
• 25:08
  floor strewn with fragments of cane and nuts, and spotted with ink, the
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  pictures crooked upon the dirty walls. No punka, He hadn't meant to live
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  like this. Or among these third rate people, And in his confusion he
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  thought only of the insignificant Ruffi, whom he had laughed at and allowed to
• 25:33
  be teased. The boy must be sent away happy, or hospitality would have
• 25:38
  failed along the whole line. It is good of you, mister Fielding,
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  to condescend to visit our friend, said the police inspector. We are touched
• 25:49
  by this great kindness. Don't talk to him like that. He doesn't want
• 25:56
  it, and he doesn't want three chairs. He's not three. Englishman,
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  he flashed, Rafi, come here, sit down again. I'm delighted you
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  could come with mister Hamdullah, my dear boy. It will help me to
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  recover seeing you forgive my mistakes, said Rafi to consolidate himself. Well are
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  you ill as these or aren't you? Fielding repeated, and no doubt Major
• 26:25
  Calendar has told you that I am shamming? Well are you? The company
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  laughed, friendly and pleased an Englishman at his best, They thought, so
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  genial. Enquire from doctor Panalal you're sure I don't tire you by stopping?
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  Why no, there are six people present in my small room already. Please
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  remain seated, if you will excuse the informality, He turned away and continued
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  to address Rafi, who was terrified at the arrival of his principle. Remembered
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  that he had tried to spread slander about him and yearned to get away.
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  He is ill and he is not ill, said Hamidullah, offering a cigarette.
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  And I suppose that most of us are in that same case, Fielding
• 27:22
  agreed. He and the pleasant, sensitive barrister got on well. They were
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  fairly intimate and beginning to trust each other. The whole world looks to be
• 27:36
  dying. Still it doesn't die, so we must assume the existence of a
• 27:41
  beneficent providence. Oh that is true? How true? Said the policeman,
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  thinking religion had been praised. Does mister Fielding think it's true? Think which
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  true? The world isn't dying, I'm certain of that. No, No,
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  the existence of providence. Well, I don't believe in providence. But
• 28:08
  now then, can you believe in God? Asked sayed Mohammed. I don't
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  believe in God. A tiny movement as of I told you so, passed
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  round the company, and Aziz looked up for an instant scandalized. Is it
• 28:29
  correct that most are atheists in England? Now? Hamidula inquired, the educated,
• 28:37
  thoughtful people, I should say so, though they don't like the name.
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  The truth is that the West doesn't bother much over belief and disbelief.
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  In these days. Fifty years ago, or even when you and I were
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  young, much more fuss was made and does not morality also decline? It
• 29:00
  depends on what you call. Yes, yes, I suppose morality does decline.
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  Excuse the question. But if this is the case, how is England
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  justified in holding India? There? They were politics again, It's a question
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  I can't get my mind onto, he replied. I'm out here personally because
• 29:29
  I needed a job. I cannot tell you why England is here or whether
• 29:33
  she ought to be here. It's beyond me. Well qualified Indians also need
• 29:41
  jobs in the educational I guess they do. I got in first, said
• 29:47
  Fielding, smiling, And then excuse me again, is it fair an Englishmen
• 29:53
  should occupy one when Indians are available? Of course I'm nothing personally. Personally,
• 30:02
  we are delighted you should be here, and we benefit greatly by this
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  frank talk. There is only one answer to a conversation of this type.
• 30:12
  England holds India for her own good yet Fielding was disinclined to give it.
• 30:21
  The zeal for honesty had eaten him up. He said, I'm delighted to
• 30:26
  be here too. That's my answer. There's my only excuse. I can't
• 30:33
  tell you anything about fairness. I mayn't have been fair. It mayn't have
• 30:40
  been fair. I should have been born. I take up some other fellow's
• 30:45
  air, don't I. Whenever I breathe still, I'm glad it's happened,
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  and I'm glad I'm out here. However, big a bad nash one is
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  if one's happy in consequence, that is some justific The Indians were bewildered.
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  The line of thought was not alien to them, but the words were too
• 31:07
  definite and bleak unless a sentence paid a few compliments to justice and morality in
• 31:15
  passing its grammar wounded their ears and paralyzed their minds. What they said and
• 31:25
  what they felt were, except in the case of affection, seldom the same.
• 31:32
  They had numerous mental conventions, and when these were flouted, they found
• 31:37
  it very difficult to function. Amidullah bore up best. And those Englishmen who
• 31:44
  are not delighted to be in India, have they no excuse he asked,
• 31:51
  none shuck them out. It may be difficult to separate them from the rest.
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  He laughed. Worse than difficult, wrong, said mister Ramchand no Indian
• 32:06
  gentleman approves chucking out as a proper thing. Here we differ from those other
• 32:12
  nations. We are so spiritual. Oh that is true? How true?
• 32:19
  Said the police inspector. Is it true, mister rock, I don't consider
• 32:24
  us spiritual. We can't coordinate. We can't coordinate. It only comes to
• 32:30
  that we can't keep engagements, we can't catch trains. What more than this
• 32:38
  is the so called spirituality of India. You and I ought to be at
• 32:45
  the Committee of notables. We are not. Our friend doctor Law ought to
• 32:51
  be with his patience, he isn't. So we go on, and so
• 32:57
  we shall continue to go on. I think until the end of time.
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  It is not the end of time. It is scarcely ten thirty ha ha,
• 33:07
  cried doctor Panalal, who was again in confident. Moon, gentlemen,
• 33:13
  if I may be allowed to say a few words, what an interesting talk.
• 33:17
  Also, thankfulness and gratitude to mister Fielding in the first place, teaches
• 33:23
  our sons and gives them all the great benefits of his experience and judgment.
• 33:30
  Doctor Lal, Doctor Aziz, you sit on my leg, I beg pardon,
• 33:37
  but some might say your leg kicks come along. We tire the invalid
• 33:44
  in either case, said Fielding, and they filed out for Mohammedans, two
• 33:51
  Hindus and the Englishman. They stood on the verandah while their conveyances were summoned
• 33:57
  out of various patches of shade. Aziz has a high opinion of you.
• 34:04
  He only did not speak because of his illness. I quite understand, said
• 34:10
  Fielding, who was rather disappointed with his call the club. Comment making himself
• 34:17
  cheap as usual passed through his mind. He couldn't even get his horse brought
• 34:24
  up. He had liked Aziz so much at their first meeting, and had
• 34:30
  hoped for developments and of Chapter nine