Fate has marked you as a man—your skull of fortune blazes like Ravana’s ten heads. Once, you managed to ruin the merchant business in a single sweep—now your dear Uncle Thak is off again. Who knows, perhaps he’ll manage to cook up another mess, only this time with some lawyer’s trickery, and drag you straight to ruin. Did it never cross your mind that, in the end, you’ll have to die? Bancharam, thoroughly exasperated, pursed his lips, twisted his moustache into a knot, and, to vent his irritation, gave his horse a sharp prod and rode off at a gallop.

25. Motilal sets off for the Jessore estate with his retinue— Description of estate management; clash with the indigo planter and the planter’s acquittal in court.

Of all Baburam Babu’s properties, the Jessore estate was the most coveted. During the ten-year settlement, much of that estate lay fallow—the revenue was uncertain, the land mostly uncultivated. Later, as those lands were reclaimed, they were distributed by the bigha, and soon the estate was in such fine shape that hardly a single katha remained uncultivated or fallow. For a few years, the tenants worked the land diligently, and with the bounty of their harvests, they managed to make ends meet. But, following Uncle Thak’s advice, when pressure was brought to bear on many tenants, they began to lose heart. With so many revenue-free landholders’ plots being confiscated, and as they had no formal deeds, they merely came and went, offered their respects and little gifts, and eventually slipped away for good. Many smallholders, battered by fraud and oppression, relinquished their rights to their land for nothing, fleeing to seek better fortune under another’s authority.

Because of this, though the estate’s income rose for a year or two, Uncle Thak would swagger about, twirling his moustache, and boast to Baburam Babu, “See what a fine steward I am!” But “the ways of justice are subtle indeed”—before long, many tenants, gripped by fear, packed up their cattle and seed and departed. Their lands became a burden to distribute; everyone began to worry: “We’ll toil away, break our backs farming, and if we manage to make a couple of rupees, the landlord will swallow it up by force or trickery—so what’s the point of holding on to these rights?” Even the estate manager, for all his coaxing, could not persuade the tenants to stay. Much land remained unclaimed—no one would take it, not even at a reduced rent, and after deducting expenses, it was impossible to collect the revenue. The manager was constantly... They would send word to the landlord, and the landlord Sudamat would write a stern letter: “If the revenue is not collected, you will lose your bread—no excuses will be entertained.” Sometimes, a timely scolding, given with discernment, gets the work done. But where trouble is not subject to threats, what use is a scolding? The manager, caught in a fix, began to run things in a haphazard, makeshift manner. Meanwhile, as