Stopped In Our Tracks
Stories of U.G. In India from the Notebooks of K. ChandrasekharTranslated and Edited by J.S.R.L. Narayana Moorty 2d/3d Series
Either You Kill Me Or I'll Kill You—Hanif
When we were in the middle of this house-hunting effort, one afternoon the telephone rang; the voice was of some stranger. "Whom do you want to talk to?" I asked.
"I need to talk to U.G. When can I do that?" someone asked in clear English.
"What's your name?" I asked mechanically, without knowing what to say.
"Hanif Mohammed," he said.
"You are the same Hanif who is study Engineering?" I asked, wondering if he was one of the group of young men who once came to see U.G.
"No, no. I am a drop-out," he replied in a low voice. He repeated his request, "I need to talk to U.G. very much. When can I do that?" I asked him to come around 6:30 that evening. I did not notice him when he came in that evening and sat among the group. I didn't know him and he never met me. Around 8 O'clock in the evening, U.G. said he was closing shop and was asking everyone to leave. The 'customers' who had spent a couple of hours there were moving close to the steps reluctantly. When U.G. was about to go into his room, that young man was murmuring something to himself looking at U.G. U.G. at once stopped and looked at him intently. The young man said, "I must talk to you alone for a little while." Then I figured that he was the one who talked to me on the phone. U.G. at once asked everyone to go downstairs. We were all surprised at U.G.'s complying with the stranger's request, as U.G. normally does not create such an opportunity even to those who know him well.
After about 15 minutes Hanif climbed down the stairs with faltering steps, looked at me, said "Goodbye," in a weak voice and left. He looked as though if someone had stirred him a bit he would have poured himself out. He was trembling from head to foot. We didn't know what transpired until U.G. came and told us about it.
"He moved close to me, and showing the knife he wore around his waist, he said, 'Either you kill me or I will kill you. I can't go on living like this.' Then he started crying," said U.G. unperturbed.
I had a shock of my lifetime listening to the story. I felt: "What would have happened if that crazy fellow did something ghastly?"
"How did you calm him down?"
"I didn't. I told him, 'Why should I kill you? You kill me. I am always ready.' With that he calmed down," said U.G.
"I then told him, 'If I die, it's no loss to anybody. If you kill me, however, they will put you in jail. But I will write a letter so that the police won't bother you.'" U.G. concluded.
Incidents of this sort are not unusual to U.G., but when we listen to him, we feel as if we are going on a roller coaster. Is it the absence of any urge in U.G. to protect himself that really acts as an armor for him? We don't know. Whatever it may be, why is it that some people behave in that way with U.G.? We can understand their helplessness to some extent. When the very ground which they have trusted and stood upon crumbles under their feet, some cannot bear it and act as if they have gone crazy.
U.G. does whatever it is that he does, and puts on an innocent face. That makes these people even more infuriated, and they feel like pulling their hair. They feel like drawing their swords at him, not being able to stand this ruthless compassion. Hanif's beliefs had been destroyed by U.G.'s books. His elders had been trying to force him to fast for Ramadan. When he refused, they said that he was possessed by a demon. Then they tried to confine him forcibly, at which point he ran away from them.
The way Hanif smiled at me upon leaving told me how many volcanoes had exploded in his heart. I understood how many heavy burdens were disturbing him so that he couldn't stay calm. There was a conflict between the commandments of his elders, who were hardened with religious zeal, and the human values aroused within him by U.G.'s words. All this was reflected in that feeble smile he smiled.
"I need to talk to U.G. When can I do that?" someone asked in clear English.
"What's your name?" I asked mechanically, without knowing what to say.
"Hanif Mohammed," he said.
"You are the same Hanif who is study Engineering?" I asked, wondering if he was one of the group of young men who once came to see U.G.
"No, no. I am a drop-out," he replied in a low voice. He repeated his request, "I need to talk to U.G. very much. When can I do that?" I asked him to come around 6:30 that evening. I did not notice him when he came in that evening and sat among the group. I didn't know him and he never met me. Around 8 O'clock in the evening, U.G. said he was closing shop and was asking everyone to leave. The 'customers' who had spent a couple of hours there were moving close to the steps reluctantly. When U.G. was about to go into his room, that young man was murmuring something to himself looking at U.G. U.G. at once stopped and looked at him intently. The young man said, "I must talk to you alone for a little while." Then I figured that he was the one who talked to me on the phone. U.G. at once asked everyone to go downstairs. We were all surprised at U.G.'s complying with the stranger's request, as U.G. normally does not create such an opportunity even to those who know him well.
After about 15 minutes Hanif climbed down the stairs with faltering steps, looked at me, said "Goodbye," in a weak voice and left. He looked as though if someone had stirred him a bit he would have poured himself out. He was trembling from head to foot. We didn't know what transpired until U.G. came and told us about it.
"He moved close to me, and showing the knife he wore around his waist, he said, 'Either you kill me or I will kill you. I can't go on living like this.' Then he started crying," said U.G. unperturbed.
I had a shock of my lifetime listening to the story. I felt: "What would have happened if that crazy fellow did something ghastly?"
"How did you calm him down?"
"I didn't. I told him, 'Why should I kill you? You kill me. I am always ready.' With that he calmed down," said U.G.
"I then told him, 'If I die, it's no loss to anybody. If you kill me, however, they will put you in jail. But I will write a letter so that the police won't bother you.'" U.G. concluded.
Incidents of this sort are not unusual to U.G., but when we listen to him, we feel as if we are going on a roller coaster. Is it the absence of any urge in U.G. to protect himself that really acts as an armor for him? We don't know. Whatever it may be, why is it that some people behave in that way with U.G.? We can understand their helplessness to some extent. When the very ground which they have trusted and stood upon crumbles under their feet, some cannot bear it and act as if they have gone crazy.
U.G. does whatever it is that he does, and puts on an innocent face. That makes these people even more infuriated, and they feel like pulling their hair. They feel like drawing their swords at him, not being able to stand this ruthless compassion. Hanif's beliefs had been destroyed by U.G.'s books. His elders had been trying to force him to fast for Ramadan. When he refused, they said that he was possessed by a demon. Then they tried to confine him forcibly, at which point he ran away from them.
The way Hanif smiled at me upon leaving told me how many volcanoes had exploded in his heart. I understood how many heavy burdens were disturbing him so that he couldn't stay calm. There was a conflict between the commandments of his elders, who were hardened with religious zeal, and the human values aroused within him by U.G.'s words. All this was reflected in that feeble smile he smiled.
