Translated from Bengali by Somdatta Mandal, this satirical skit was part of Hasyakoutuk (1914) or Humour by Tagore
Ray Krishnakishore Bahadur is lying on his deathbed. His three sons Chandrakishore, Nandakishore and Indrakishore are busy consulting each other. A doctor is present. The women are close to tears.
Chandra: Who are the people we should write to?
Indra: Write to Sir Reynolds.
Krishna: (With great difficulty) What will you write, son?
Nanda: The news of your death.
Krishna: But I am not yet dead, son.
Indra: You might not die right now, but we have to fix a time for the event and write that down…
Chandra: We should collect the condolence letters from all the Englishmen here and get them published in newspapers. No point in publishing them when all the excitement is gone!
Krishna: Patience boys; let me die first.
Nanda: We can’t wait, father. Let’s make a list of the letters to be sent to the people in Shimla and Darjeeling. Come on, let’s get all the names down.
Chandra: The Governor, Sir Ilbert, Sir Wilson, Beresford, Macaulay, Peacock –
Krishna: Boys, what names are you chanting so close to my ears? Chant God’s name instead. When the time comes, He is the only one who can save us! Hari –
Indra: Yes, good thing that you reminded us, we forgot to include Sir Harrison.
Krishna: My sons, say Ram, Ram –
Nanda: Really, I had forgotten about Sir Ramsey.
Krishna: Narayan, Narayan!
Chandra: Nanda, write down the name of Sir Noran also.
Skanda: So, you people seem so relaxed! You still haven’t done the real thing!
Chandra: And what is that?
Skanda: We have to inform in advance all the people who will be part of the procession going to the funeral ghat.
Krishna: Sons, which one do you consider the real thing? First, I’ll have to die, only then –-
Chandra: No worries on that account. Doctor!
Doctor: Yes sir!
Chandra: How much time is left for father to go? When do the public have to be here?
The women start wailing.
Skanda: (Disgusted) Ma, will you stop it? You’re creating quite a scene! It’s better to sort out everything in advance. When doctor?
Doctor: Most likely this night at—
The women start wailing again.
Nanda: This is a huge problem! You shouldn’t disturb us during work. What do you think your crying will accomplish? We are planning to publish condolence letters sent by important Englishmen in newspapers.
The women are sent out.
Skanda: Doctor, what do you think?
Doctor: From what I can see I think he will expire around four a.m.
Chandra: Then there is no time – Nanda, go quickly, get the slips printed at once right in front of your eyes.
Doctor: But first mustn’t the medicine—
Skanda: Look here! Your medicine shop will not run away. On the other hand, we’ll be in trouble if the print ring shop shuts down.
Doctor: Sir, the patient might not —
Chandra: That is why you must hurry. For who knows what might happen if the slips are printed before the patient —
Nanda: Here I go.
Skanda: Write down that the procession will begin at eight tomorrow.
Skanda: What, doctor? It’s already seven now instead of four.
Doctor: (Apologetically) Yes, yes, amazing the pulse is still strong.
Chandra: You are a fine one doctor to have got us into this mess!
Nanda: Everything went wrong when I was late in bringing the medicine. In fact, dad began to recover as soon as the doctor’s medicine was stopped.
Krishna: All this time you were so very cheerful, why is everyone looking so glum all of a sudden? I am feeling fine now.
Skanda: We aren’t feeling that great. We had already finalized all preparations to go to the funeral pyre.
Krishna: Is that so? I guess I should have died.
Doctor: (Feeling irritated) Do one thing and that will solve all problems.
Doctor: Instead of him why don’t one of you die when the time is ripe.
A lot of people have assembled in the outer house.
Kanai: Hello, It’s already eight thirty. Why are you all late?
Chandra: Please sit down. Have some tobacco.
Kanai: I’ve been [chewing] tobacco from the morning!
Bolai: Where is everybody? I can’t see signs of any arrangements being made.
Chandra: Everything is ready – it’s not our fault – now only—
Ramtaran: Hey, Chandra, we shouldn’t waste any more time.
Chandra: Don’t I understand that – but—
Harihar: What is causing the delay? We’ll be late for office, what’s the matter?
Indra: Don’t be impatient. We are almost ready. In the meantime, why don’t you read the condolence letters?
He distributes them.
This is from Lambert, this from Harrison, this is Sir James’s—
Skanda: Here take them. In the meantime, read the obituary notices on father in the newspapers. Here is The Statesman, here The Englishman.
Madhusudan: (To Yadav) Isn’t this typical? Bengalis won’t ever learn what punctuality is all about.
Indra: You’re absolutely right. They will die and yet never learn to be punctual.
The guests shed tears reading the newspapers and the condolence messages.
Radhamohan: (in tears) Oh God, the poor man’s friend!
Nayanchand: Alas! To think that even such a good man has his share of troubles.
Nabadwipchandra: (in a deep breath) Lord! Everything is your will!
Rasik:‘The lotus that blooms in the heart’ – I’m forgetting what comes after that –
‘The lotus that blooms in the heart
Has been plucked untimely
The lotus heart sinks in the sea of sorrow!’
This is exactly the case here. The lotus heart in the sea of sorrow. How sad! Add esquire. O tempora! O mores!
Tarkabagish: Challchittang challadbittang, challajiwan – The mind is inconsistent, wealth is transitory and one’s life is perishable. Oh how sad!
Nyayabagish: Yadupathe kri gata mathurapuri, raghupate – Where is the city of Mathura that belonged to the Lord of the Yadavas (i.e. Krishna), to the Lord of the Raghus (i.e. Rama Chandra)? (chokes)
Dukhiram: Oh Krishnakishore Bahadur, where have you gone?
A faint voice can be heard from within: I am here. Please, don’t shout.
 [Translated from “Antyashti-Satkar” in the Hasyakoutuk series Bhadra 1293 B.S. by Somdatta Mandal].
 “Oh the times! Oh the customs!” – Latin phrase, first recorded to have been spoken by Cicero
 Bengali title given to an expert debator
 Bengali title given to a legal expert
Somdatta Mandal is a former Professor of English and ex-Chairperson, Department of English, Visva-Bharati, Santiniketan, India. A recipient of several prestigious fellowships like the Fulbright Research and Teaching Fellowships, British Council Charles Wallace Trust Fellowship, Rockefeller Residency at Bellagio, Italy, Salzburg Seminar and Shastri Indo-Canadian Faculty Enrichment Fellowship, she has been published widely both nationally and internationally. She has also an award from Sahitya Akademi for the All India Indian Literature Golden Jubilee (1957-2007) Literary Translation Competition in the Fiction category for translating short stories series ‘Lalu’ by Sarat Chandra Chattopadhyaya.
PLEASE NOTE: ARTICLES CAN ONLY BE REPRODUCED IN OTHER SITES WITH DUE ACKNOWLEDGEMENT TO BORDERLESS JOURNAL