Dabbu! Dabbu! Dabbu!
(Money! Money! Money!)
Tripuraneni Gopichand
About the Author
Tripuraneni Gopichand (1910-1962), of Tenali, Andhra Pradesh, India, is a Telugu
short story writer, novelist, editor, essayist, playwright and film director. His
writings exhibit an exceptional interplay of values, ideas and „isms‟—materialism,
rationalism, existentialism, realism and humanism. He is well-known among
Telugu literati for his psychological novel—Asamardhuni Jeevayatra (The
Incompetent‟s Life Journey). He was posthumously presented the Sahitya Akademi
Award for his novel, Panditha Parameshwara Sastry Veelunama (Will of Panditha
Parameshwara Sastry), in 1963. Radical humanist, profound thinker, philosopher,
social reformer and an inveterate votary of truth, Gopichand was a versatile
genius, which reflects well in his scintillating stories that are told in crisp language.
His stories pose many questions that challenge the wit of readers. His birth
centenary celebrations are set to commence from September 2009.
Translator
GRK Murty
1
As Gopi returned home from the market, everything looked pell-mell
in the house. Father is walking in the veranda to and fro with a sad
face. Seeing Gopi, turning his face aside, he says, “Received wire.
Pedananna1 may no more…!”
Gopi‟s heart suddenly stopped. Stood silently—
He adored his pedananna. He nurtured him. He brought him up in
life. He used to say, “I have no desires! I want to retire from life seeing
you grown-up.” And what has it all come to now?
Wiping his tears, his father asks…
“Will you come?”
As though to say “Yes” Gopi nods his head.
“I don‟t have money. If you have, give me five rupees.”
Gopi hasn‟t spoken. He quietly pulls out the five rupees that he has in
the pocket and gives him.
1 Pedananna—Father‟s elder brother.
2
His father, tucking his stuff into a box, says, “Get ready. It‟s time for
the train. If we are late, we may not even be able to see him before
he breathes his last.”
Hiding his tears from his father by turning to the other side, he replies,
“Please go by this train. I shall come in the evening.”
Surprised, his father stops his packing for a while.
Staring at him, “Why? Seems his condition is quite serious. If we don‟t
start by this train—”
Afraid of listening to the rest of the words, Gopi moves away.
His father looks at him suspiciously and angrily. Since quite sometime
he could not comprehend his son. Earlier, he could see his reflection in
his son, and be happy of it. Subsequently, he could see no reflection
whatsoever. Of late, he looks more confusing and terrible.
“Ok! As you wish,” saying, he leaves by the train.
Gopi heaves a sigh. “I must see pedananna. Must listen to his last
words.” He is quite determined.
He has no money, whatever he had, he gave it to his father. Whom
shall he ask? How to ask?
3
He roams all over the town. Meets all his friends. He spoke to them
this and that, but without raising the topic of money, returns home.
Bolting the door, he sits alone and cries.
*****
At the other end, by the time Gopi‟s father reaches, his pedananna is
in terminal stages.
Seeing him, he asks: “Has Gopi come?”
“I asked him to come. Said he will come in the evening.”
Evening train arrives. There is no Gopi. Even then pedananna, is
holding his breath by shear grit for Gopi. At the sound of even an
ant‟s crawling, he whispers, “Gopi.”
Train came. No Gopi.
Saying, “want to see Gopi ... could not,” pedananna gives up… his
breath.
All cry at once—
Rascal! Failed to be in time for his last look even. He has let the old
man die dissatisfied.
4
Everybody around curses him in whatever way they could.
Gopi‟s father sits quietly listening to all those curses. He becomes wild.
“Scoundrel. Ill-gotten was he—” murmurs within himself, grinding his
teeth.
*****
Here, Gopi doesn‟t get sleep. As it dawns, he gets up and goes to the
post office to see if any letter has come. No letter. This makes him a
little calm. Must have recovered, perhaps. Felt happy dreaming that
he would still have the fortune of making his pedananna recite the
poems from Bharatam2 and Bhagavatam3 and enjoy listening to them.
But, the happiness is only make-believe. For, he is shuddering within
not knowing what news will come when.
Imagining this and that, Gopi stays at home whole day. As evening
advances, his heart calms a bit. Thinking, “If it is still serious, they
would have sent a telegram again,” he sighs—
Meanwhile, alighting the train, Gopi‟s father himself arrives. Seeing his
face, Gopi‟s heart quivers—what could have happened? Pedananna …
Not being able to stay there, not being able to see his father‟s face he
rises to go inside.
2&3 Epics of the Hindus which they adore most.
5
“Gopi!” yells his father.
Gopi stops. His heart trembles... what would he say!
“Why didn‟t you come?”
Gopi does not speak. His body shivers—
“Idiot, he died dreaming of you—you are a slur on our pedigree—”
The last words aren‟t audible to Gopi. “Pedananna died? Longed for
me while dying?”—He loses his ground.
“Fearing it would cost you four rupees—what have you done!”
Gopi didn‟t reply. He didn‟t even look at his father. Casting a vacant
look and thinking, “pedananna longed for me!” he remains quiet. This
enrages his father even more.
Gopi has not noticed his father coming over to him. His cheek split
with his father‟s slap. His eyes swam. Tears gushed in streams. His
father‟s anger didn‟t subside yet. “Rascal, I have been watching your
behavior. Is this the economic-perspective you have been cribbing in
your writings…”
Gopi stared at his father. Looked at him with more pity. His father
then appeared to him as the pettiest among the petty men. His stare
6
further infuriates his father. “Get lost … the likes of you have no space
in my house… go!”
Pushing Gopi out, his father bolts the door. Raising himself up slowly,
Gopi stands up. “Is this the economic-perspective you have been
cribbing in your writings”—his father‟s words ring in his ears.
“Yes…yes,” murmuring, hurriedly climbing down the steps, Gopi
walks away into the wider world …
*****
Personal Website: www.karpuramanjari.blogspot.com E-mail: grk.murty@gmail.com
