Swayam Prakash was born in 1947 in Indore (Madhya Pradesh). After studying Mechanical Engineering and working in an industrial establishment, a large part of Swayam Prakash’s childhood and job was spent in Rajasthan. He was associated with the editing of the magazine ‘Vasudha’.

Swayam Prakash, who emerged in the eighth decade, is today an important signature of contemporary stories. Thirteen of his story collections have been published, among which ‘Suraj Kab Niklega’, ‘Aayenge Acche Din Bhi’, ‘Aadmi Jaat Ka Aadmi’ and ‘Sandhaan’ are notable. Among his novels, ‘Vinay’ and ‘Eendhan’ have been popular. He has been awarded the ‘Pahal Samman’, ‘Banmali Puraskar’, ‘Rajasthan Sahitya Akademi Puraskar’ and other awards. He passed away in 2019.

A skilled painter of middle-class life, Swayam Prakash’s stories contain consciousness against class exploitation as well as a voice of resistance against discrimination based on caste, sect, and gender happening in our social life. His stories, written in an interesting storytelling style, enrich the oral tradition of Hindi.

A piece of land surrounded by boundaries on all sides is not called a country. A country is made by all the citizens, rivers, mountains, trees-plants, vegetation, animals-birds living in it, and loving all these and striving for their prosperity is called patriotism. The story ‘Netaji Ka Chashma’ highlights the contribution of millions of citizens of the country through the ‘Captain Chashmewala’, who contribute in their own ways to the construction of this country. The story says that not only adults but children are also involved in it.

Netaji Ka Chashma

Haldar Sahib had to pass through that town every fifteen days due to company work. The town was not very big. There were only a few houses that could be called pucca houses and only one market that could be called a market. The town had a boys’ school, a girls’ school, a small cement factory, two open-air cinemas, and a solid municipality. Since there was a municipality, it kept doing something or the other. Sometimes it got a road paved, sometimes got some urinals built, sometimes got a pigeon shelter built, and sometimes got a poetry symposium organized. It was some enthusiastic board or administrative officer of this municipality who once got a marble statue of Netaji Subhash Chandra Bose installed at the main crossroads of the main market of the ‘city’. This story is about that very statue, or rather about a small part of it.

The whole story is not known now, but it seems that due to lack of knowledge about the country’s good sculptors and the cost of a good statue being much higher than the estimated and available budget, a lot of time must have been wasted in deliberation and correspondence, and in the final hours of the board’s term ending, a decision must have been made to give the opportunity to some local artist, and finally the only drawing master of the town’s only high school—let’s assume Motilal Ji—must have been entrusted with this work, who was assuring that he would make the statue and ‘deliver it’ within a month.

As has been said, the statue was made of marble. From the tip of the cap to the second button of the coat, about two feet tall. What is called a bust. And it was beautiful. Netaji looked beautiful. Somewhat innocent and youthful. In military uniform. Seeing the statue, one would start remembering ‘Dilli Chalo’ and ‘Tum Mujhe Khoon Do…’ etc. In this respect, it was a successful and praiseworthy effort. There was only one thing lacking that would catch the eye immediately. Netaji’s eyes did not have glasses. That is, there were glasses, but they were not made of marble. A common and real pair of glasses with a wide black frame had been put on the statue. When Haldar Sahib passed through this town for the first time and stopped at the crossroads to have paan, he noticed it and a curious smile spread across his face. Wow! This idea is also good. The statue is made of stone, but the glasses are real!

Even after the jeep left the town and moved ahead, Haldar Sahib kept thinking about this statue, and finally concluded that overall, this effort of the town’s citizens should be called praiseworthy. The importance is not of the statue’s color-form or size, but of that sentiment, otherwise patriotism too is becoming a joke these days.

The second time when Haldar Sahib passed that way, he noticed some difference in the statue. When he looked carefully, he found that the glasses were different. Earlier there were square glasses with a thick frame, now there were round glasses with a wire frame. Haldar Sahib’s curiosity increased. Wow! What an idea. The statue cannot change clothes but it can certainly change glasses.

The third time, there were new glasses again.

Haldar Sahib got into the habit of stopping at the crossroads every time he passed through the town, having paan, and looking at the statue carefully. Once when curiosity became uncontrollable, he asked the paan-seller himself, “Hey! What’s the matter? How do your Netaji’s glasses change every time?”

The paan-seller himself had paan stuffed in his mouth. He was a dark, stout, and good-natured man. Hearing Haldar Sahib’s question, he laughed with his eyes. His belly shook. Turning back, he spat the paan under the shop and showing his red-black teeth, said, “Captain Chashmewala does it.”

What does he do? Haldar Sahib couldn’t understand.

He changes the glasses. The paan-seller explained.

What do you mean? Why does he change them? Haldar Sahib still didn’t understand.

Suppose some customer comes. He wants wide frames. So where will Captain get them from? So he gave him the statue’s glasses. Then he put another one on the statue.

Now Haldar Sahib began to understand a little. There is a glasses-seller whose name is Captain. He doesn’t like Netaji’s statue without glasses. Rather, it hurts him, as if Netaji is uncomfortable without glasses. Therefore, he fits one of the few frames available in his small shop onto Netaji’s statue. But when a customer comes and needs a frame exactly like the one on the statue, then Captain Glasses-seller—probably apologizing to Netaji—brings the frame from the statue and gives it to the customer, and later returns another frame to Netaji. Wow! Great! What an idea.

But brother! One thing is still not understood. Haldar Sahib asked the paan-seller again, “Where did Netaji’s original glasses go?”

The paan-seller had already stuffed another paan in his mouth. It was afternoon, there wasn’t much crowd at the ‘shop’. He again laughed with his eyes. His belly shook. Throwing the betel-nut stick, turning back he spat down and said smilingly, “The master forgot to make them.”

For the paan-seller, this was a funny thing, but for Haldar Sahib, it was astonishing and touching. That means he was thinking right. ‘Sculptor Master Motilal’ written below the statue was indeed the town’s teacher. The poor fellow must have promised to make the statue and deliver it within a month. He must have made it too, but how to make transparent glasses in stone—with glass—he must not have been able to decide. Or he must have tried and failed. Or while making, in the pursuit of ‘some more finesse’, the glasses must have broken. Or he must have made stone glasses separately and fitted them, and they must have come off. Uff…!

All this seemed very strange and curious to Haldar Sahib. Lost in these thoughts, after paying for the paan, bowing respectfully to the glasses-seller’s patriotism, he walked towards the jeep, then stopped, turned back, went to the paan-seller and asked, “Is Captain Glasses-seller Netaji’s companion? Or a former soldier of the Azad Hind Fauj?”

The paan-seller was eating a new paan. Holding the paan about an inch and a half away from his mouth, he looked at Haldar Sahib carefully, then showed his red-black teeth and said smilingly—“No sir! That lame fellow, what would he do in the army. He’s crazy, crazy! Look, he’s coming. You talk to him yourself. Get his photo printed somewhere.”

Haldar Sahib did not like the paan-seller making fun of a patriot like this. Turning to look, he was speechless. An extremely old, frail-looking lame man, wearing a Gandhi cap on his head and black glasses on his eyes, carrying a small box in one hand and many glasses hanging on a bamboo stick in the other, had just emerged from a lane and was now leaning his bamboo stick against a closed shop. So this poor fellow doesn’t even have a shop! He goes around as a hawker! Haldar Sahib got confused. He wanted to ask, why do they call him Captain? Is this his real name? But the paan-seller had clearly indicated that he was not ready to talk more about this now. The driver was also getting restless. There was work too.

Haldar Sahib got into the jeep and left.

For two years, Haldar Sahib kept passing through that town due to his work and kept seeing the changing glasses on Netaji’s statue. Sometimes round glasses, sometimes square, sometimes red, sometimes black, sometimes sunglasses, sometimes large-lensed goggle glasses… but there was always some glasses… to give Haldar Sahib some moments of curiosity and delight in that dusty journey.

Then once it happened that there were no glasses at all on the statue’s face. That day the paan shop was also closed. Most shops at the crossroads were closed.

The next time too, there were no glasses on the statue’s eyes. Haldar Sahib had paan and softly asked the paan-seller—“Hey, what’s the matter? Today your Netaji’s eyes don’t have glasses?” The paan-seller became sad. He turned back and spat the paan down, and hanging his head, wiping his eyes with the end of his dhoti, said—“Sir! Captain has died.”

And Haldar Sahib couldn’t ask anything more. He stood silently for a few moments, then after paying for the paan, sat in the jeep and left.

He kept thinking repeatedly, what will happen to that community which laughs at those who sacrifice their home-household-youth-life everything for their country and looks for opportunities to sell itself. He became sad. Fifteen days later, he passed through the same town again. Even before entering the town, the thought came that

Subhash’s statue must certainly be installed in the heart of the town, but Subhash’s eyes will not have glasses….because the master forgot to make them….and Captain has died. He thought, today he won’t stop there, won’t even have paan, won’t even look towards the statue, will go straight through. He told the driver, don’t stop at the crossroads, there’s a lot of work today, we’ll have paan somewhere ahead.

But out of habit, his eyes automatically went towards the statue as soon as the crossroads came. He saw something that made him shout, “Stop!” The jeep was at speed, the driver braked hard. People walking on the road started looking. As the jeep was stopping, Haldar Sahib jumped out of the jeep and rushed with quick steps towards the statue and standing right in front of it, stood at attention.

A small pair of glasses made of reed was placed on the statue’s eyes, like children make. Haldar Sahib is emotional. His eyes filled with tears at such a small thing.

Questions-Exercises

1. Even though he was not a freedom fighter, why did people call the glasses-seller Captain?

2. Haldar Sahib had first told the driver not to stop the vehicle at the crossroads but later immediately asked to stop-

(a) Why had Haldar Sahib first become dejected?

(b) What hope does the reed glasses on the statue give?

(c) Why did Haldar Sahib become emotional over such a small thing?

3. Explain the meaning-

“Kept thinking repeatedly, what will happen to that community which laughs at those who sacrifice their home-household-youth-life everything for their country and looks for opportunities to sell itself.”

4. Present a character sketch of the paan-seller.

5. “That lame fellow, what would he do in the army. He’s crazy, crazy!”

Write your reaction to the paan-seller’s comment about Captain.

Composition and Expression

6. Which characteristic of the characters do the following sentences indicate-

(a) Haldar Sahib always stopped at the crossroads and gazed at Netaji.

(b) The paan-seller became sad. He turned back and spat the paan down, and hanging his head, wiping his eyes with the end of his dhoti, said—“Sir! Captain has died.”

(c) Captain kept putting glasses on the statue again and again.

7. Until Haldar Sahib had not seen Captain in person, what image of him must have been on his mental screen? Write using your imagination.

8. It has become a sort of practice to install statues of famous persons from some field at the crossroads of towns, cities, and metros-

(a) What could be the objectives of installing such statues?

(b) Whose statue would you like to get installed at the crossroads of your area and why?

(c) What should be your and other people’s responsibilities towards that statue?

9. It is not only soldiers posted on the border who show patriotism. We all show patriotism in some form or another in our daily activities; for example—not damaging public property, environmental protection, etc. Mention such other activities related to your life-world and also implement them.

10. The influence of local dialect is clearly visible in the following lines, write these lines in standard Hindi-

Suppose some customer comes. He wants wide frames. So where will Captain get them from? So he gave him the statue’s glasses. Then he put another one on the statue.

11. ‘Wow! Great! What an idea.’ Keeping this sentence in mind, tell what are the benefits of words from one language entering another language?

Language Study

12. Pick out the particles from the following sentences and make new sentences with them-

(a) Since there was a municipality, it kept doing something or the other.

(b) A decision must have been made to give the opportunity to some local artist.

(c) That is, there were glasses, but they were not made of marble.

(d) Haldar Sahib still didn’t understand.

(e) For two years, Haldar Sahib kept passing through that town due to his work.

13. Change the following sentences into passive voice-

(a) He fits one of the few frames available in his small shop onto Netaji’s statue.

(b) The paan-seller was eating a new paan.

(c) The paan-seller had clearly indicated.

(d) The driver braked hard.

(e) Netaji sacrificed everything for the country.

(f) Haldar Sahib respected the glasses-seller’s patriotism.

14. Change the following sentences into impersonal passive voice-

Example- Let’s go now. - Let it be gone now.

(a) Mother cannot sit.

(b) I cannot see.

(c) Come on, let’s sleep now.

(d) Mother cannot even cry.

Beyond the Text Activities

$\bullet$ The writer guesses that the work of making Netaji’s statue must have been given to a local artist out of compulsion-

(a) What must have been the artist’s feelings upon getting the statue-making work?

(b) How can we give importance and encouragement to the work of artisans, musicians, painters, and other artists in our area? Write.

$\bullet$ There are physically challenged students in your school. What kind of provisions should be made for them in the school premises and classrooms? Give suggestions to the administration in this regard through a letter.

$\bullet$ Captain used to go around as a hawker.

Hawkers make many of our daily needs easy. Prepare an editorial article on the contribution and problems of hawkers.

$\bullet$ Make a project on the personality and works of Netaji Subhash Chandra Bose.

$\bullet$ Look around your house and find out what works have been done by the municipality? What can be our role in it?

Read the excerpt of the essay given below and understand how the same sentiment can be expressed in different ways in various prose genres-

Patriotism

What is patriotism? It is love. What is the object of this love? The entire country i.e., humans, animals, birds, rivers, streams, forests, mountains along with all the land. What kind of love is this? It is love born of association. Those among whom we live, whom we constantly see with our eyes, whose words we constantly hear, whose company we have every moment, in summary, with whose proximity we become accustomed, affection or attachment can develop towards them. If patriotism is truly a sentiment of the heart, then this can be it. If this is not, then it is mere nonsense or a word coined to indicate some other sentiment.

If someone truly loves their country, then they will love all the humans, animals, birds, creepers, shrubs, trees, forests, mountains, rivers, waterfalls, etc. of their country, they will look at everyone with loving eyes; they will shed tears abroad remembering everyone. Those who don’t even know what bird the koel is, who don’t even hear where the chatak calls, who don’t even look with full eyes how mango trees are laden with fragrant blossoms, who don’t even peek inside what is happening in farmers’ huts, if they claim patriotism by telling the average income of every Indian among well-dressed friends, then they should be asked: Brothers! What kind of love is this without acquaintance with form? How can we understand that you want to see happy those whose sorrows and joys you have never shared? Sitting, lying, or standing miles away from them, you may give sermons in foreign language on ‘Economics’, but do not drag the name of love along with it. Love is not accounting. Those who do accounting can be hired for a price, but not those who love.

Through accounting, only knowledge of the country’s condition can be obtained. The tendency of welfare-thinking and welfare-doing is different from mere knowledge. It depends on the impulse or sentiment of the mind, it is related to attachment or love, without which the necessary enthusiasm for sacrifice on the other side cannot arise.