Page 165 - DENG503_INDIAN_WRITINGS_IN_LITERATURE

Unit 20: Premchand: Godan—Introduction to the Text

lend him ten rupees. The promissory note is written and it is signed by the peasant. The Thakur Notes
then gives him five rupees. The peasant is taken aback. He says: "But they are only five, master."
"They are not five; they are ten. Go home and count them again"
"No, master, they are actually five."
"One rupee as your nazrana," says the moneylender.
"Yes, master."
"One rupee for the draft."
"Yes, master."
"One rupee for the 'Government paper."
"Yes, master."
"One rupee as the dasturi?"
"Yes, master."
"And five cash. Does it make ten or not?"
"Then, master, keep these five, too, with you for me," says the peasant.
"What a fool you are."
"No, master. One rupee as nazar to the Senior Thakurani; one rupee for her pan beeda. One rupee
as nazar to the Junior Thakurani and another for her pan-beeda. The balance, one rupee, for your
last rites."
Premchand was so moved by the suffering of the peasant that in his last days he lost his faith in
the existence of God, for to believe in God also implies the belief in His kindliness and fatherliness.
Premchand portrays another, perhaps more hideous and sinister picture of this system. Mr.
Khanna has established a Sugar Mill near Hori's village. The entire produce of the village, therefore,
is sent to it. There is a sort of fraternity between the moneylenders and Mr. Khanna's agents.
Jhunguri Shah looks to the transactions "so that his clients may not be cheated." When Hori's turn
for receiving the money comes, it is Jhinguri shah who receives the money and, out of the 120
rupees that he receives, he deducts 95 and pays him 25, which also is snatched away by Nokhe
Ram, who accosts Hori as soon as he goes out of the premises. As a result, Hori comes home
empty-handed, where is abject poverty. Premchand's description of poverty brings tears to the
readers' eyes.
On the way home, Hori meets Giridhar who is tipsy with toddy. He says to Hori: "Jhinguria has
taken all, Hori Kaka. He hasn't left a piece with me-the brute. I wept, I entreated, but that tyrant
would have no pity."
Sobha put in: "But you are drunk with toddy and still you say that he has not left you anything."
Giridhar replies, pointing to his stomach; "it is evening now. Honestly, not a drop of water has
gone down my throat. I hid a one-anna pice in my mouth, which I spent on today. I said to myself:
'Man, you have sweated the whole year through. Have the fun of toddy one day.' But, to tell you
the truth, I am not drunk. How could one be drunk with a stuff worth one anna...It is so very good,
Kaka, the account is cleared. I borrowed 20 and have paid 160. Is there a limit?"
Indeed there is none. Listen to what Gobar finds, when he returns from the city:
One portion of the house was about to collapse. On Hori's doorstep there was only one bullock
and this one too was half dead. Hori's wasn't an individual case. The entire village had the same
sorry tale to tell….There was not one man whose condition was above pity. It looked as if in their
bodies there was not life, but grief making them dance like puppets. They went about, they
worked, they were ground down only because they were fated to be so. There was no hope for

LOVELY PROFESSIONAL UNIVERSITY 159