Baburam Babu. Well, whatever it is—I’ll send Motilal to you. See to it, look after him, and do whatever is best for him. Of all those sahibs whose work I used to handle, not a single one remains—if they were still around, I could have easily gotten him admitted somewhere. And as for my son, as soon as he learns the bare minimum, that’s enough—if he studies too much, he’ll forget his own religion. Just make sure the boy grows up to be a decent human being—that’s all I ask, brother, the whole responsibility is on you.

Benibabu. If you want to raise a boy right, you have to keep an eye on him both at home and outside. The father has to see everything with his own eyes—he has to get down and dirty, be a boy among boys. Many jobs can be left to fate, but not this one—you can’t just let someone else chew your betel for you.

Baburam Babu. Yes, yes, that’s all true—but isn’t Moti your own son too? Right now, I have to go bathe in the Ganges, listen to the Purana, look after my property and affairs. Where do I have the time, brother? And my English is old-fashioned anyway. Moti is yours—yours—yours! Once I send him to you, my mind will be at peace. Do whatever you think best, but brother! Make sure it doesn’t cost too much—I’m a man with a big family to feed—you understand all that, don’t you?

After much more polite conversation, Baburam Babu returned to his house in Baidyabati.

3. Motilal’s Arrival in Bali and His Frolics Thereafter, and Later Residence in Bowbazar for English Studies

On Sundays, the gentlemen of the bungalow take things very easy—“It’ll happen when it happens, I’ll eat when I eat”—and so their bathing and meals are often quite late. Afterwards, some indulge in a long nap, some play cards, some go fishing, some beat the tabla, some pluck at the sitar, some lie in bed contemplating the lotus navel of Vishnu, some go out for a stroll, some read books. But as for studying or discussing anything worthwhile—well, that’s a rare occurrence. More often, the time is wasted in tall tales, petty squabbles, or endless debates about whether Shambhu ate three jackfruits or not. Benibabu of Bali, however, had a different way of thinking. The people of this country have a notion that once school is over, so is learning. But that is a great mistake—even if you strive your whole life, you’ll never reach the end of knowledge. The more you study, the more your wisdom grows.

Benibabu understood these matters well and acted accordingly. In the morning, after rising, he would oversee all the household affairs and then settle down with a book to pursue his studies. Meanwhile, a fourteen-year-old boy—wearing an amulet around his neck, earrings in his ears, bangles and armlets on his hands—came up and, with a thump, plopped himself down in front of him.

Benibabu,