Conscience

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"People who have tried it, tell me that a clear conscience makes you very happy and contented; but a full stomach does the business quite as well, and is cheaper and is more easily obtained"........

......Jerome K Jerome

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Maybe true, but for a chap born with a weak digestion worsened by incessant smoking during years when food was not there for money or love at KGP, Jerome's recipe is like a flower in the sky.

So, I have ever been the gnawing victim of a weak conscience though I have watched some very robust ones during my life...and sought their succor ever and anon.

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Nothing like King Henry's though.

During the roaring 1960s there was this movie "Becket" in Netaji Auditorium which was spoken of as terrific. So I put aside my claustrophobia and ventured watching it.

And was pretty much moved by the scene where a lanky Peter O'Toole (King Henry II) enters the Cathedral, throws his royal raiment aside, kneels, and gets ceremonially whipped for wishing to get Richard Burton (Thomas Becket), whom he himself appointed as the Archbishop of Canterbury, killed in a fit of rage.

Later Kings & Queens apparently followed Jerome's formula to ease their conscience...

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In our Village during my childhood there was this magnificent Kodandaram Temple which we used to frequent in the evenings...the elders used to pray as we used to play.

Legend has it that a few centuries ago, the prosperous Village Reddy Garu (much like Henry) got his friend murdered in a fit of rage and repented endlessly and took to bed with frightful nightmares.

And he did try Jerome's recipe but as and when he used to sit for his meal, the rice looked reddish and turned his stomach.

And a passing hermit told him to build this grand temple to overcome his grief; which apparently worked.

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Well, my cases were never that frightful.

Let us take this typical instance:

When I was living in the spacious Qrs CI - 97 in the Dandakaranya Area at IIT KGP, I was hassled every three years or so by this Contractor employed for 'whitewashing' IIT Property.

This meant that one fine morning 3 able-bodied ruffians accompanied by two village belles enter our house and boot us out of their way and turn everything topsy-turvy for 6 long hours.

And I am a very private individual.

So, I used to ask them to get lost and come to our Qrs at the very end...and the Contractor would throw the rule book at me. And I used to offer that I would sign his pocket note book: "Job done wonderfully, thanx!"

But he would say that the Supervisor would come to inspect....

Then I used to bargain, saying that I would get it done at a time of my own convenience as a private job. And he would quote Rs 270 or so (Rupee was very strong then).

So, one year I asked the chaps to come on the very last working day before the Durga Puja Holidays.

But found that I didn't have the wherewithal (a favorite euphemism of my Father for dough).

As I was moodily driving my Chetak (with my kid son in the front and my understanding wife in the pillion to the Gole Bazaar for Puja purchases) I suddenly took a detour to the Post Office which was then within the Main Building for dropping a letter.

And as we approached the deserted blood red Post Box, my son cried: "Money!" pointing to the ground.

And me and he picked up loose flying currency notes worth Rs 270 or so.

My wife at once said: "My prayers are answered!"

But that lousy conscience thing started pricking me.

And I saw my friend VR cycling by and stopped him and asked him his precious advice.

And he listened to me carefully and took out a white paper from his file, tore a small piece about 2" x 2" and scribbled:

"Money Found! The owner may contact gps at Qrs CI - 97 within 48 hours and collect it"

And pasted it in one obscure corner of the Post Office and let me go.

Since it was the beginning of DP holidays, the chances of anyone retrieving it were minimal, I thought.

But next evening, I found who looked like an impoverished Research Scholar knocking at our door.

"How much?"

"Rs 300"

"In what denominations?"

"Does it matter?"

"Very much"

Pregnant silence.

"2 hundred rupee notes and the rest tens"

"Sorry"

I almost heard Ukridge saying:

"No harm trying, no?"

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