Shriram Sharma

It was the year 1908. It must have been the end of December or the beginning of January. A ${ }^{\prime}$ cold was falling. A few days earlier, there had been some drizzle, so the severity of the cold had increased even more. It must have been around three-thirty or four in the evening. I was eating ber, picking them from the jheberry tree with several friends, when a man from near the village called out loudly that your brother is calling you, return home immediately. I started walking home. My younger brother was also with me. There was a fear of being beaten by my brother, so I was walking timidly. I couldn’t understand what fault I had committed. Trembling with fear, I entered the house. There was an ${ }^{2}$ that I might be summoned for the crime of eating ber. But I found my brother writing letters in the courtyard. Now the fear of being beaten was gone. Seeing us, brother said, “Take these letters and post them at the Makhanpur post office. Go quickly, so that the letters go out in the evening mail. These are very important.”

The days were already cold, and on top of that, the onslaught of the wind was making us shiver. The wind was chilling us to the ${ }^{3}$, so we tied our ears with a dhoti. Mother tied a few chickpeas in a dhoti for us to roast. Both of us brothers took our sticks and set out from home. At that time, the attachment to that babool stick was greater than the attachment to a rifle at this age. My stick had become the Narayan-vahan (vehicle of Lord Vishnu) for many snakes.

1. Severe cold 2. Fear 3. Soft substance inside the bone 4. To get roasted

Mangoes were ${ }^{1}$ from the mango trees between the Makhanpur school and the village every year with it. For this reason, that mute stick seemed alive. With ${ }^{2}$ faces, we both started moving quickly towards Makhanpur. I put the letters in my cap, because there were no pockets in the kurta.

Both of us, jumping and hopping, reached the well where a very fearsome black snake was lying, four furlongs from the village, in one breath. The well was earthen, and twenty-four hands deep. There was no water in it. How the snake had fallen into it, who knows? Whatever the reason, our knowledge of its presence in the well was only two months old. Children are mischievous by nature. Our group going to study in Makhanpur was a complete monkey troop. One day we were returning from school when we thought of ${ }^{3}$ into the well. I was the first one to peek. I looked into the well and threw a stone to hear what sound it made. After hearing that, I wanted to hear the ${ }^{4}$ of my own voice, but as soon as the stone fell into the well, a hiss was heard. We children standing at the edge of the well were first so astonished by that hiss, like a herd of deer playing is startled by the bark of a very nearby dog. After that, everyone jumped and threw one stone each and laughed at the angry hiss coming from the well.

While going from the village to Makhanpur and returning from Makhanpur, stones were almost thrown into the well every day. I would run ahead and, holding my cap with one hand, throw a stone with the other. This had become a daily habit. I considered getting the snake to hiss a big achievement at that time. So as soon as we both passed by that well, the ${ }^{6}$ to throw a stone into the well and hear the hiss became active. I moved towards the well. The younger brother followed behind me like a small

1. To break 2. Happy face 3. To peek, to peek on tiptoes 4. The sound heard after a word, echo 5 . Play 6 . Inclination of the mind towards a subject

${ }^{1}$ follows behind a big fawn. I picked up a stone from the edge of the well and, jumping while taking off my cap with one hand, dropped the stone on the snake, but it felt like lightning struck me. Whether the snake hissed or not, whether the stone hit it or not, I don’t remember that to this day. As soon as I took the cap in my hand, all three letters were swirling and falling into the well. Suddenly, just as the soul of a deer grazing grass leaves when it is killed by a bullet and it keeps writhing, in the same way, did those letters come out of the cap? My soul left me. As they fell, I made a lunge to catch them; exactly like a wounded lion attacks the hunter seeing him climb a tree. But they were already out of reach. In the panic of catching them, I myself would have fallen into the well due to the jerk.

We were sitting on the well’s rim crying—the younger brother wailing and I silently with welling eyes. When the water boils in a pot, the lid rises up and water drips out. The boiling of tears came from despair, fear of being beaten, and ${ }^{3}$. The eyelids, like lids, tried to hold back the inner feelings, but tears would roll down the cheeks. I remembered my mother’s lap. I wished that mother would come and hug me to her chest and, after pampering and loving, say that it’s nothing, the letters will be written again. I felt like throwing a lot of soil into the well and going home and saying that I posted the letters, but at that time I didn’t even know how to lie. Returning home and telling the truth would result in a thrashing like cotton. The thought of a beating made not only the body but also the mind tremble. Crushed under the burden of the future fear of being beaten for telling the truth and the responsibility of the letters not reaching if I lied, I sat there sobbing. About fifteen minutes passed in this contemplation. It was getting late, and on the other hand, the day was aging. I felt like running away somewhere, but the fear of being beaten and the double-edged ${ }^{4}$ sword of responsibility was turning on my heart.

1. Fawn 2. To wail, to cry loudly 3. Restlessness, anxiety 4. Double-edged, having two edges

The chains of dilemma are cut by firm resolve. My dilemma was also resolved. I decided to enter the well and retrieve the letters. What a terrifying decision it was! But what does it matter to someone who is ready to die? Whether out of foolishness or wisdom, if someone accepts the path of death to do something, and that too knowingly, then he becomes ready to confront the world alone. And the result? What does he care about the result. The result depends on some other power. At that time, to retrieve the letters, I became ready to confront the venomous snake. The die was cast. Whether it was embracing death or being reborn after escaping the snake—there was no worry about that. But the belief was that I would first kill the snake with the stick, then pick up the letters. It was on the strength of this firm belief that I resolved to enter the well.

The younger brother was crying, and the meaning of his crying was that death was calling me down, although he didn’t say it in words. Actually, death was sitting in the well in a living and naked form, but to encounter that naked death, I also had to become naked. The younger brother also became naked. One dhoti mine, one of the younger brother’s, one with chickpeas, two dhotis tied from the ears—five dhotis and some rope together were sufficient for the depth of the well. We tied the dhotis to each other and pulled and tested thoroughly to see if the knots were tight. We left no room for deception from our side. We tied the stick to one end of the dhoti and dropped it into the well. We gave the other end to the younger brother after giving it one turn around the deng (the wood on which the spinning wheel rests) and tying a knot. The younger brother was only eight years old, so we tied the dhoti firmly to the deng and then told him to hold it very tightly. I started descending into the well with the support of the dhoti. The younger brother started crying. I gave him ${ }^{1}$ that I would kill the snake as soon as I reached the bottom of the well, and my belief was also the same. The reason was that I had killed many snakes

1. Assurance, consolation

before. Therefore, while entering the well, I had no fear of the snake at all. I considered killing it a child’s play.

When I was about four-five yards from the bottom of the well, I looked down carefully. My mind reeled. The snake was swaying with its hood spread, raised one hand’s length above the ground. The tail and the part near the tail were on the ground, half of the front part was raised, waiting for me. The stick was tied below, moving here and there due to my descending motion. Perhaps because of that, seeing me descend, the snake was seated in a position for a ${ }^{1}$ strike. Just as a snake charmer feeds a black snake by playing the been and the snake gets angry, stands with its hood spread, hisses and strikes, exactly in the same way the snake was ready. Its ${ }^{2}$—I—was hanging holding the dhoti a few hands above it. Because the dhoti was tied to the deng, it was hanging right in the middle of the well, and I had to descend right in the middle of the circumference of the well’s bottom. This meant placing my foot at a distance of one and a half to two feet—not yards—from the snake, and at such a distance, the snake would strike as soon as I placed my foot. Remember, the diameter of an earthen well is very small. At the bottom, it is not more than one and a half yards. In such a condition, in the well, I could be at a maximum distance of four feet from the snake, and that too if the snake tried to stay away from me, but I had to descend in the middle of the well, because my means was hanging right in the middle. The snake couldn’t be killed by hanging from above. I had to descend. I couldn’t even climb up due to fatigue. Until now, I hadn’t decided to show my back to my opponent. Even if I did so, could I climb up without reaching the bottom of the well? I started descending slowly. As I descended inch by inch, my ${ }^{3}$ increased. An ${ }^{4}$ occurred to me. Holding the dhoti with both hands, I placed my feet against the side of the well. As soon as my feet touched the wall, some soil

1. One that causes harm, one that strikes 2. Opponent, enemy 3. Steadfast mind, concentration 4. Method, means

fell down and the snake hissed and struck at it. My feet also moved away from the wall, and my legs remained hanging forming a right angle from my waist, but from this, I learned the distance from the snake and the method of descending on the circumference of the well. Swaying a little, I placed my feet against the side of the well, and with a slight push, I stood on the ground of the well on the other side, one and a half yards away from my opponent. Our eyes met. Perhaps we recognized each other. The snake is called chakshuhshrava (hearing with eyes). I myself was becoming chakshuhshrava. The other senses seemed to have given their power to the eyes out of sympathy. My eyes were fixed on the snake’s hood, wondering when it would attack in which direction. The snake had cast a sort of spell. Perhaps it was waiting for my attack, but the thought and hope with which I had resolved to enter the well were like a sky-flower. How false and opposite human estimates and future plans sometimes turn out to be. As soon as I saw the snake directly, the impossibility of my plan and hope became apparent. There was no space to swing the stick. A lathi or stick requires sufficient space to be swung. The snake could be pressed down with the stick, but doing so was like standing on the mouth of a cannon. If the hood or the part near it was not pressed, then it would surely turn and bite, and even if there was any possibility of pressing near the hood, then how would I pick up the two letters lying near it? Two letters were lying near it, touching it, and one was towards me. I had descended only to take the letters. We both were standing firm on our ${ }^{2}$. Standing in that position, four-five minutes passed for me. Battle lines were drawn on both sides, but my line was weak. If the snake pounced on me, then I—if I did a lot—would catch it, crush it and kill it, but it would surely inject its ${ }^{3}$ liquid venom into my body and take me along with it. Until now, the snake had not attacked, so I also

1. Hearing with eyes 2. Posture, position 3. Infallible, certain

gave up the idea of pressing it with the stick. Doing so was not appropriate either. Now the question was how to pick up the letters. Well, there was one way. To slide the letters away from the snake with the stick. If the snake attacked, then there was no remedy. I had a kurta, and no other cloth with which to catch its hood by covering its mouth. To kill or not to provoke at all—these were the two paths. Well, the first was beyond my power. Compelled, I had to adopt the ${ }^{1}$ of the second path.

As soon as I extended the stick towards the letter lying on the right side of the snake, the snake’s hood moved backwards. Slowly the stick moved towards the letter and as soon as it reached near the letter, a black lightning flashed with a hiss and fell on the stick. There was a tremor in the heart, and my hands disobeyed. The stick fell. I don’t know how high I jumped. Not intentionally, just startled. When I jumped and stood, I saw something like pus stuck at three-four places on the head of the stick. That was venom. The snake had, as it were, placed a certificate of its power in front, but I was already an ${ }^{2}$ of its capability. That certificate was not needed. The snake struck the stick three-four times continuously with hisses. That stick was insulted in this way for the first time, or perhaps it was mocking the snake.

Meanwhile, the hisses from above and my jumping and then standing there with a thud made the younger brother think that my work was finished and the bond of brotherhood was broken in the hisses and thud. He thought that I had fallen after being bitten by the snake. The thought of my suffering and separation struck his tender heart. The fabric of fraternal love was hurt. He screamed.

The younger brother’s apprehension was not unfounded, but from that hiss and thud, my courage increased somewhat. I tried again in the same way to pick up the envelope. This time the snake attacked and also clung to the stick. The stick didn’t slip from my hand but

1. Support 2. One who acknowledges

due to hesitation, fear or terror, it pulled towards me and the ${ }^{1}$ hind part of the snake touched my hands. Ugh, how cold it was! I threw the stick aside. If its second attack had happened first somewhere, then I would have jumped and fallen on the snake and not survived, but when there is life, thousands of ways to escape emerge. That was divine grace. Due to the stick pulling towards me, my and the snake’s positions changed. I immediately picked up the envelope and postcard. I tied the letters to the end of the dhoti, and the younger brother pulled them up.

Retrieving the stick from near the snake was also very difficult. The snake was sitting on it, having openly laid claim to it. The victory was already mine, but I had lost my mark. If I extended my hand, the snake would ${ }^{2}$ my hand, so taking a handful of soil from the side of the well, I threw it to its right so that it pounced on it, and with my other hand, I pulled the stick from its left side, but in an instant, it attacked the other side as well. If the stick hadn’t been in between, its teeth would have sunk into my leg.

Now climbing up was not a difficult task. Climbing 36 feet up only with the support of hands, without placing feet anywhere, is not possible for me now. I have the courage to climb 15-20 feet without the support of feet, only by the strength of hands; less, not more. But at that age of eleven years, I climbed 36 feet. My arms were full. My chest swelled. The bellows were working. But inch by inch, slipping and sliding, by the strength of my arms, I climbed up. What would have happened if my hands had slipped is difficult to estimate. Coming up, exhausted, I lay down for a while. I dusted off my body and put on my dhoti-kurta. Then, after ${ }^{3}$ the boy from Kishanpur, who had seen the attempt to climb up, not to tell anyone about the well incident, we moved forward.

1. Knot, tangle 2. Strike, blow 3. The act of repeatedly warning

In 1915, after passing Matriculation, I narrated this incident to my mother. With tearful eyes, mother made me sit in her lap like a bird hides its chicks under its ${ }^{1}$.

How good those days were! At that time, there was no rifle, there was a stick, and the hunt with the stick—at least the hunt of that snake—was no less interesting and terrifying than a rifle hunt.

Comprehension Questions

1. What was the author afraid of when returning home after being called by his brother?

2. Why did the group of children going to study in Makhanpur throw stones into the well on the way?

3. ‘Whether the snake hissed or not, whether the stone hit it or not, I don’t remember that to this day’—what state of mind of the author does this statement clarify?

4. For what reasons did the author decide to retrieve the letters from the well?

5. What tricks did the author adopt to divert the snake’s attention?

6. Write the adventurous description of descending into the well and retrieving the letters in your own words.

7. After reading this lesson, what childlike mischiefs do we learn about?

8. Explain the meaning of ‘How false and opposite human estimates and future plans sometimes turn out to be’.

9. Explain the meaning of the line ‘The result depends on some other power’ in the context of the lesson.

10. Wings