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Unit 12: The Big Brother by Munshi Premchand

It was nearly time for school; otherwise God knows when this sermon would have ended. My Notes
food seemed tasteless to me. When I was being harangued on having passed, perhaps I would
have been killed if I had failed. I was terrified by the fearful picture of studies in his class that
Bhai Sahib had painted. It is a wonder that I did not leave school and run away home. But in spite
of all these warnings I still remained uninterested in books. I never lost an opportunity to play
games. I studied too, but very little, just enough to complete the day’s task and to avoid being
disgraced in class. The self-confidence that had taken root within me disappeared again, and
once more I began to live the life of a thief.
Again the annual exams were held and as chance would have it, again I passed and Bhai Sahib
failed. I did not work very hard but somehow managed to stand first in class. I was myself
surprised. Bhai Sahib had put heart and soul into his work. He had swallowed every single word
of the course, working till ten in the night, from four in the afternoon, and from six to nine-thirty
before going to school. He looked completely drained with the effort but still he failed. I felt
sorry for him. When the result was announced he burst into tears and I also began to cry. My joy
at my success was halved. Had I also failed Bhai Sahib would not have been so unhappy. But who
can divert destiny?
Between Bhai Sahib and me there now remained a gap of only one class. An evil thought sprang
up within me: if Bhai Sahib failed another year I would be his equal. On what basis then would
he preach to me? But I forcibly thrust this uncharitable thought from my heart. “After all, he
scolds me for my own good. At this time I doubtless find it unpleasant but perhaps it is due to his
sermons that I pass again and again and secure such good marks too.”

By now Bhai Sahib had softened to a great extent. Several times, even on finding an opportunity
to scold me, he showed great patience. Perhaps now he had himself come to understand that he
no longer had a right to scold me, or at best, to a very small extent. I became more and more self-
willed and began to take advantage of his tolerance. I had the conviction that I would pass,
whether I studied or not. Luck was on my side. Thus I stopped studying what little I used to for
fear. of Bhai Sahib. I had developed a new interest — flying kites — and now all my time was
devoted to it. Even so, I respected my brother and flew kites in secret. Preparing the
manjha, correcting the balance of the kite, planning for kite tournaments and allied problems
were all solved in secrecy. I did not want Bhai Sahib to suspect that my respect and regard for
him had gone down.
One evening, at some distance from the hostel, I was running recklessly to loot a drifting kite.
My eyes were turned upwards to the sky and my heart lay with this traveller who came gliding
slowly, rolling towards a fall, like a restless soul coming out of heaven to inhabit a new world.
A whole army of children was surging towards it to welcome it, armed with sticks and bamboos.
Nobody was aware of his surroundings. Everyone was, as it were, flying with that kite up in the
sky, where everything is smooth and there are neither cars, nor trams or trains.
Suddenly I ran into Bhai Sahib who was perhaps returning from the market. Then and there he
caught me by the hands and said angrily, “Aren’t you ashamed, running after a worthless kite
with these street urchins? You don’t have any consideration for the fact that now you are no
longer in a junior class. On the contrary you are in class eight and only one class below me. After
all, man should have some regard for his position. There was a time when people used to
become naib-tehsildars after passing class eight. I know several middlechis who are first class
magistrates or superintendants. So many who have passed class eight are our leaders and the
editors of our newspapers. Great scholars work under them. And you, having come to the same
class, are running after a kite with these street urchins! I am grieved by your lack of sense.
Without a doubt, you are clever, but what use is cleverness if it destroys one’s self-respect? You

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