~Binaya Kasajoo~
Translation : Deepak Thapa
“So, did you vote, Rajaali?” asked Bikas.
“Yes, master. I did.”
“Who did you vote for? I hope you didn’t make a mistake,” said Bikas, pointing to the sample ballot paper on the wall.
Rajaali went closer, and aiming to please his master with what he had done, laid a finger on the symbol he had stamped. Candidate Bikas gave quite a start when he saw the one Rajaali had picked out.
“Did you actually vote for that?” Bikas was quite perturbed, yet not sure if Rajaali was joking.
But for Rajaali it was no joking matter. He could see his master was distressed and that too when he had hoped to make him happy. “But didn’t master say that this is your symbol? Everyone said that this is the party of the rich, that of the poor and the other of the old rulers,” Rajaali sounded desperate.
It had been close to 20 years since Rajaali had been working for Bikas and he displayed unshakable loyalty to his master. Never had he questioned Bikas. Now, Bikas didn’t know how to react. His mind was a mixture of emotions, both of anger and pity. “Do you know what you’ve done, Rajaali? You’ve voted for my opponent,” he said without expression.
Rajaali was dumbstruck. Never, not even in his dreams, had he done anything against the wish of his master. But it was so different when he had gone to vote, he tried to explain. There was such a crowd and so many important-looking people. A number of policemen around too and Rajaali had become quite nervous. Clutching his ballot paper, he had gone to the cool school room to stamp it.
It was such a relief inside after standing in the sun for so long. It was quiet and dark. Rajaali looked at the ballot paper and saw a jumble of pictures, all representing election hopefuls. He did not know what to do. But then he thought about all the happy years at his master’s place and reasoned that he would have to vote for the party of the rich. He couldn’t betray his master now. Poor Rajaali did not know that his rich landlord of a master was the candidate for the ‘poor’ men’s party.
Back at home, upon learning the truth, Rajaali stood like a criminal before his master. Bikas was angry that Rajaali had used his vote to help his rival, but also somehow smugly content that Rajaali would go so far to please him.
“Can’t I vote again, master?” It was almost a plea.
“Yes, you, can, Rajaali. Five years from now.” Bikas gave him a warm smile.
(Published in “Face to Face” magazine for development, No. 18. April-June, 1999.)
(Source : Writer’s Blog)
