A Journal of Mahatma Gandhi Antarrashtriya Hindi Vishwavidyalaya

Climbing down the slope, that girl
put the buckets on the ground and
lifting the veil of her burqa, looked
at me. She was very beautiful as if
she were some fairy. I watched her
with wonder.
When I returned their money, they
became my admirers. It was not really
a question of money. It was a question
of feeling, the feeling that sows the seeds
of human relationships. They were very
emotional people. They could kill someone,
but they could also die for someone. They
were strong people, full of life, tall and
handsome. The scarcity of water in that
area had made them helpless. Everything
seemed to be against them. They had taught
themselves to live in poverty. They did
not have many means of earning their
livelihood. They had very little money.
They also had very few desires. But some
desires had become necessities of life for
them, such as water.’
‘Raka, you gave them water, so they
were happy,’ someone spoke when Raka
fell silent. In this manner, for a long time
Raka had continued to tell his story. He
was carried away by his feelings…Then
another friend said, ‘Raka Masih, if you
had put those coins in your pocket, then?’
‘If I had put those coins in my pocket,
nothing would have happened. Even then
I would not have become a rich man.
But then, I would not have understood
the meaning of life…If I had taken the
money every second day, I would stop
the train there. People of Kanmitrazai
village would come. They would stand
in a queue. They would give me the money.
And then after filling their buckets with
water, they would have gone. But in that
case I would not have had either the
memory of Kanmitrazai village, nor would
those people have the kind of feeling towards
me that they had.’ Raka Masih sighed.
He was silent for some time. Then for
a while he gazed at the brick oven. His
friends were silent, and so was he. There
was only the sound of a shunting engine.
It seemed as if some shunting engine were
going to and fro in Raka Masih’s heart.
After a while he continued, ‘Every
second day, I would set out with a load
of seven wagons. That was my duty. But
I felt that it was very important to reach
water to the people of Kanmitrazai village.
It was another duty beside my duty. I
don’t know what name that duty can be
given. Perhaps that duty was called
friendship…They too knew how to be friends.
They would bring for me figs, apricots
and pine fruit. If I refused it, they would
be displeased. In their dirty, smelly clothes
they would bring kulchas for me. They
would insist that I should eat it in front
of them…People called them savage,
barbarian, illiterate, uncouth and God knows
what not. Those were the same people.
When I stopped the train, they quietly
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