From: rkumar@ee.iitd.ernet.in (Dr. C.P. Ravikumar)
Newsgroups: soc.culture.indian
Subject: The Touch -- a translated short story
Date: 27 Jul 92 05:55:54 GMT
X-Unparsable-Date: Sat, 25 Jul 92 12:11:11 ist


Has been a long time since I said Hello World.
I am including below a translation of a
Kannada short story by P. Lankesh.  Lankesh
is one of the most talented writers in
modern Kannada literature.  I had written
about him earlier on this net.  This story is
one of his more recent ones, and appears in
the collection "Kallu Karaguva Samaya" 
(A time when stones melt).  Compared to
his earlier stories, Lankesh seems to have
now adopted a less stylized way of storytelling.
I hope you enjoy "The Touch" and hope I haven't
lost it after the hibernation.
 
Ravikumar

----------



			The Touch

		Original Kannada Story : P. Lankesh
		Translated by C.P. Ravikumar

It was the busiest time of the year for Basalinga.  If he
delayed sowing the seeds, the saplings would fail to find their
roots in the ground.  But his oxen have not been very cooperative.
One of the pair lies down on ground in protest as soon as
Basalinga attempts to get him to work.  The other beast has
shown his intentions to follow the lead of his colleague.
Basalinga has no other option but to sell the animals at
the fair and buy a new pair for himself.  On top of this,
his child has fallen sick.  His wife Siddalingi has been
nagging him.  Let us take the boy to the Swamiji in Shivanur.
The boy's cough doesn't seem to leave him.  Something else has
also been bothering Basalinga.  Something he had never imagined
would be so painful.  The lies he had been conjuring up in his 
mind to get rid of his oxen.  Basalinga did not have what it
takes to lie -- courage and gift of the gab.   He thought
of wonderful things to say about his oxen, and the very
thought made him uneasy.  It was one of those times when
he felt a discomfort in his left eye.  The pain didn't
show any sign of improving.

At first, Basalinga ignored the pain in his left eye
as a minor case of irritation.  But the eye did not
turn red.  But the level of pain increased.  He also
began to feel that he could not see very well with
his left eye.   In a state of panic, Basalinga went to
meet his doctor.  The doctor couldn't make out what was
wrong, but he spoke reassuringly to his patient.  He
told Basalinga of his medical miracles, and handed
him a prescription for an ointment.  Feeling better,
Basalinga came home and followed the instructions
of his doctor to the tee.  But to no avail.    His wife
Siddalingi thought the pain was a figment of his 
imagination.  Basalinga was infuriated by her comment.
He felt helpless and a need for sympathy.  He told
his friends about his pain and his other difficulties.
The stalled work in his farmland, his child's illness,
these began to appear less important to him in
comparison to his pain.  Someone suggested him
to consult Dr. Thimmappa in the Government Hospital.
Until then, Basalinga was of the impression that
you go to a Government Hospital only if you are
a hapless beggar.  But his mentor reassured him
and told him how bad private doctors can be. 

Dr. Thimmappa is a busy doctor.  When Basalinga
arrived, a dozen people were waiting to see the
doctor.  When his turn finally came, Basalinga
went in and told all his troubles to Dr. Thimmappa.
About his oxen, his half-finished work in the farm,
his child, and his pain.  How they have robbed him
of his sleep.  Dr. Thimmappa examined his patient
carefully.  He was a man who exuded confidence.
He finally said, "You will be all right.  But you
need an operation.  Are you ready?"

Basalinga looked doubtfully at the doctor.

Thimmappa reassured him. Yes, an operation can cure you.  
Basalinga returned home, but said nothing to his wife.
When she inquired, he avoided telling her the details.
The next day, he returned to the hospital.  The good
natured Thimmappa welcomed him.  The doctor seemed to
have developed a liking for Basalinga.  He inquired
about Basalinga's child and began to make preparations
for the operation.  He was a doctor with lots of
experience.  It took him just a few minutes to finish
the operation.  He held Basalinga's hand in his own
and said, "Look, this is a very sophisticated operation.
You should not let water touch your head for at least
two weeks.  If water enters your eye, you stand the
danger of losing it.  Do you follow?"

Basalinga had also begun to like the doctor.  He
nodded and left for home.  But a  row was waiting
for him at home.  Siddalingi was in a fit of rage.
She had found out that Thimmappa was a Holeya,
an untouchable.  Basalinga was shocked.  How could
she find this out before he did?  He began to
see Thimmappa in a different light.  Why didn't
Thimmappa tell me about his caste before he
touched me?  Basalinga dismissed it as an evil
thought.  But a void filled him.  He had been
touched by a Holeya.  He decided to keep this
a secret and instructed Siddalingi not to
breathe a word.  She said Basalinga must take a bath
immediately to purify himself.  Basalinga thought
of Thimmappa's parting words.  They seemed less
sharp now.  Siddalingi tied a cloth around his
eyes and gave him a nice refreshing hot bath.
Basalinga felt a lot better.

The third day after the operation, Basalinga
experienced pain in his left eye again.  He
was now in a fix.  He didn't feel like returning
to Thimmappa and visited other doctors he knew.
None of the medication helped him.  Now he
had no other choice but to see Dr. Thimmappa.
The doctor received him warmly and began
questioning the patient.  Basalinga denied that
he had let water touch his dead.  But Thimmappa
knew better.  He saw his patient cringe and knew
Basalinga was lying.  "Do you know what I think?
I think you did pour water on your head."
Basalinga was aghast.

"Look, Basalingappa, you are a good man.  Now tell me
what happened."

Basalinga was cornered.  He blurted out the truth.
He felt a big load was lifted off his heart.
He sat silently for a while and said, "Please 
operate me again and save me, doctor.  I won't
disobey you this time."

Thimmappa shook his head.  "Another operation won't
help.  All I can do now is to give you medicine
to reduce the pain.  Apply this ointment every day."

Basalinga felt a surge of temper building within
him.  It seemed to him the doctor was neglecting
him.  The very doctor who had spoilt his caste.  He
returned home, feeling helpless and angry.  He
narrated the incidents to his friends and relatives,
and complained to them bitterly about Thimmappa.
To evoke anger in them about the doctor, he often
twisted the flow of incidents.  He related his 
story full of lies so often that he began to
believe it himslef.  There were times when Basalinga
was aghast at the transformation he had undergone.
This is good, he told himself,  this will help me
in getting rid of the oxen at the fair.  When
he spoke to Siddalingi, there was a certain
cheerfulness in his voice. He must learn to talk big,
he thought.  That would help him get a loan.
He needed a loan if the crop was going to be delayed.

But Basalinga's tragedy took an entirely different
turn.  The pain in his left eye subsided, and he
gradually lost the sight in his left eye.  But the
pain now appeared in his right eye.  Since Basalinga was
now a man of contacts, a truly outgoing personality,
he was better prepared this time.  He contacted Rudrappa, 
a politician who was also a Lingayat by caste.  
Rudrappa took him to see many well known doctors.
Some of them said, "This doesn't even need an
operation.  Dr. Thimmappa is a fool to have tried
surgery!"  Each doctor prescribed a lot of medicines
and gave Basalinga a lot of assurances.  But to no
avail.  The pain in the right eye did not go away.
Anxiety gripped Basalinga.  But his faith in modern
medicine did not leave him.  He decided to try
Dr. Thimmappa again.

Thimmappa was quick to notice the change that had
come over his patient.  Basalinga spoke loudly
now.  Without his realizing it, he was becoming
a smaller man each day.  His illness was seeping
into his mind.

Feeling sad, Thimmappa said, "Basalingappa, I
touched you in my capacity as a doctor.  But
even an innocent man like you have been so
perturbed by my touch.  Well, I don't blame you.
I don't blame anyone.  I'll tell you what,
why don't you go and see Dr. Chandrappa? You
can tell him I sent you.  He is as good a
doctor as I am.  Don't misunderstand me."

Basalinga didn't know how to react.  He didn't
hate Thimmappa, but felt the doctor was
challenging him.  Had the doctor heard from
other sources what he had been talking
about Thimmappa and behind the doctor's back?
Well, let him!  Basalinga came out of the
doctor's office and joined Rudrappa.  He
asked Rudrappa what caste Dr. Chandrappa
belonged to.  He felt relieved to find out
Chandrappa was not as low in caste as
Thimmappa was.  The two went to see Chandrappa
right away.

But a surprise awaited Basalinga.  When
he related his story to Chandrappa, with the usual 
twists, the doctor said, "I cannot do anything
more than what Dr. Thimmappa can.  He is one
of the finest doctors the medical world has ever
seen.  I don't know any other doctor who is
as honest and talented as he is.  He is the only
specialist who can deal with your ailment.  Go
and see him.  He can save your eye."

Basalinga and Rudrappa walked out of the clinic.
Basalinga sat down on a bench and covered his
face in his hands.  He sat there silently for
a long time. He did not reply to any one.  The
pain in his right eye was getting worse.  He  
had realized his right eyesight was also failing.
He was certain they could not save him.  Not his
lies, not his caste, not Rudrappa, not his 
religious leader.  Basalinga was experiencing
something more painful than his physical ailment.  
He thought of Dr. Thimmappa and his swift
fingers and his kind words.  He thought of
his farm, his oxen, the mango tree that grew
in a corner of his farm, and the Parijatha
flowers that adorned the green grass in
his backyard each morning.

Basalinga went back to Thimmappa.  Tears were
rolling down his right eye.  He held the doctor's
hands and wept uncontrollably.  Thimmappa did
not move.  Neither did he pat on Basalinga's
back to comfort his patient.  When Basalinga
regained his composure, he mumbled something
that only he and Thimmappa could understand.

Thimmappa stared at Basalinga.  He wondered
why he liked this man.  Perhaps because of
his innocence, which he had lost for a while
and presently regained.  Perhaps because he
never thought of his caste when he saw him.
Perhaps because he appeared like a symbol 
of man's pain, a symbol of man's frustration,
the lows man could fall to, and the heights 
to which man could rise.

Basalinga looked into the doctor's eyes.
Thimmappa felt his eyes were getting moist.
He quickly composed himself and said,
"This time, you are not to let water
touch your head.  Your right eye will be 
all right."

The doctor began to prepare for the surgery.
Cleansed of his lies, Basalinga looked on,
like a little child.

Newsgroups: soc.culture.indian