The Mango Tree

Babu Jankidas had harboured a deep faith in the filial feelings of his only son Debendranath. To some extent, Debendra had fallen in with the wishes of his benevolent but slightly tyrannical father.  When Babu Jankidas decreed that Debendra should enter the legal profession, he did so with a commendable enthusiasm. Debendra did not even breathe rebellion when Babu Jankidas decided that it was time for the young lawyer to be married-to a girl, obviously, of his father's choice.

Debendra did not breathe rebellion; he lived it. Because two days after Babu Jankidas broached the topic at home, Debendra came home with a simpering bride in tow. He arrived at the verandah, where he proceeded to greet his dozing father with a loud "Namaskar, Baba!"

Babu Jankidas, jolted out of his sleep, stared speechlessly at the girl cowering behind Debendra. "This is Sharda, Baba..." said Debendra. "Your daughter-in-law." Sharda bent swiftly to touch Babu Jankidas's feet. He was too stunned to respond to this gesture, and simply nodded in a daze. With his new daughter-in-law, Babu Jankidas was forced by sheer good upbringing to be polite, But with his son, he felt no such compunctions.

"You… you son of a ___!" Babu Jankidas stopped himself short of committing the ultimate indiscretion. "You have shamed us all! What will the relatives say? What will the neighbours say? What will I tell Mr Chatterjee? What will I tell your mother...?"

"She's standing behind you," interrupted Debendra helpfully.

"Don't interrupt, you moron!" he thundered. "If you dare open your mouth again, I'll throw you out of this house!"

But Debendra, instead of retreating, did something very unexpected. He made a running dive for his father's feet. With an admirable swiftness, Babu Jankidas leapt back, out of the way of Debendra's outstretched hands. And Debendra's clawing fingers, instead of grabbing his father's feet, wrapped themselves around the end of Babu Jankidas's crisply starched, immaculately pleated, paisley-embroidered  cotton dhoti.

"Let go, you dolt!" Babu Jankidas roared, tugging at his dhoti.

"Not until you give us your blessings, Baba," Debendra replied. Babu Jankidas, horror-stricken, wondered if the young man had lost his mind.

"What rot! Let go of my dhoti this instant, you rascal, or I'll call for the police!"

"No. I will not let go. And the more you delay, Baba, the worse it's going to get. If you don't come up with your blessings within the next ten seconds, I'm going to add on a few more conditions."

Babu Jankidas stared, speechless, at his son. The ten seconds lapsed-and Debendra, from his prostrate position at his father's feet chimed in, "Now you're going to have to let us stay here at home the rest of our lives."

"No! Never! Get out of my sight! Let go!" Babu Jankidas was frantic by now. His thoughts were interrupted by the young man clutching the end of his dhoti. "Hurry up, Baba," said Debendra gleefully. "Another ten seconds, and two more conditions will join the list."

Babu Jankidas, in a fit of desperation, tugged violently at his dhoti-and heard the ominous but unmistakable sound of tearing cloth. He looked down in horror at the cloth draped about his legs-there was a rip along the edge near Debendra's hands. It was nothing serious, but it awakened Babu Jankidas to the peril that lay before him. His delicate dhoti-his very honour-lay in his son's hands. And before him, blushing vividly and trying not to giggle, was his new daughter-in-law. To have that dhoti rip and come apart in Debendra's hands would be disastrous. He would never be able to regain his standing in the household; and God forbid, should Sharda be the gossipy type, he would soon be the laughing stock of all of Kolkata.

Babu Jankidas groaned. And Debendra spoke up cheerily from the floor.

"All right. Now you're going to have to agree that I work wherever I want to. And that you buy Ma a new pair of gold bangles, and take her on a holiday this summer…"

"Anything else, Ma?" Debendra asked encouragingly. Babu Jankidas's wife shook her head vigorously, and wished privately that she had never ventured near this idiotic confrontation between husband and son.

Babu Jankidas growled something about strangling Debendra, and Debendra grinned. "In a moment, Baba," he said. "Or I'll pull. Hurry up, Ma. There's bound to be something you want. Come on, think-fast!"

Babu Jankidas's wife uttered not a word. Everything that came to mind-from a new coconut scraper to a very pretty coir basket she had seen in New Market the other day-seemed idiotic.

"Ma!" Debendra prompted. "What's the matter? Come on, hurry up!"

She stared blankly at Debendra for a full minute, then stole a worried glance at her husband, and murmured in a barely audible voice, "A mango tree. I want a mango tree."

Sharda giggled. Babu Jankidas looked as if he would explode, and Debendra looked puzzled. He did not react, however; instead, staring up at his father, he counted off the list quickly. "So here it is. You bless us and let us stay on. You let me work where I want.  You buy Ma her gold bangles and take her on a holiday… and you get her her mango tree. Agreed?"

Read the full story in the May 2015 issue of Reader's Digest.