Mota Bhai

Ranchod Parekh owned the only two-storey, brick house in Sirka, Dist. Madhopur, Bihar. Everyone liked him even though he was a Gujarati. They called him Mota-bhai.

When the rains washed away their homes or when the winter nights got too cold, the village went to Mota-bhai's house. He charged them Re. 1 per person, per night. Children stayed free.

Mota-bhai kept a big, red accounts ledger that he had got from Madhopur proper. Everyone owed everyone else money and the ledger kept track. The 50 paise credited for a haircut into Gangaram's account, Rs. 5 into Gopal's for the potatoes Ballu had taken, 75 paise into Malti's for washing Khan-bhai's razai, Rs. 5 for Asim's mangoes, Rs. 15 for the clothes Mamta-bai stitched, and so on.

One morning, a foreigner came to Sirka to bring prosperity to the village, emancipation to the women, education to the children, and health care for all. He wanted the entire village to hear about the micro-finance schemes his large, multinational financial conglomerate had to offer. Their highly-leveraged product guaranteed a 700% return on investment for the shareholders back home while, at the same time, opening up new market opportunities for the impoverished masses.

But it was a hot day. The four-hour drive in an air-conditioned Toyota Innova luxury taxi had tired out the sahib.

"Where can I rent a hotel room for the day?" he asked Ghasiram.

"Mota-bhai's house is just past the cow sitting under the big neem tree up ahead." Ghasiram told him.

The Innova sped away in a cloud of dust as Ghasiram continued on his way with the sack of potatoes he had just harvested. The rains had not come this year. The potatoes would feed the entire village for a week. They would also help clear his hisaab in Mota-bhai's ledger.

"I need a room for the day. How much do you charge?" The sahib asked Mota-bhai.

"Re. 1 per person, per day." Mota-bhai replied.

"Here is Rs. 50. We can settle before I leave." said the sahib.

"Arey, Mukesh! Show sahib to the big room upstairs." Mota-bhai said as he smoothed out the Rs. 50 note carefully before putting it in his ledger.

While the sahib slept through the heat of the mid-day sun, Mota-bhai updated the ledger to settle accounts and pay off debts with the Rs. 50 nestled among his ledger pages.

Mota-bhai paid Gangu (Rs. 5) for the vegetables, Chandani (Rs. 7.50) for cleaning and kachra, Khan-bhai (Rs. 15) for the oil and cycle repair, Chunni (Rs. 12.75) for fixing new legs on all four chairs, Mamta-bai (Rs. 2.25) for washing and cleaning the whole terrace, and Ballu (Rs. 7.50) for the wheat.

Gangu paid off Gopal, Mangal, Kishore, Asim, and Manik.

Gopal, Mangal, and Kishore paid off Gangaram, Ballu, and Mamta-bai.

Asim paid off Khan-bhai who paid off Mota-bhai and Madhav.

Chandani paid off Manik and Jose.

Manik paid off Birju and Francis.

Jose paid off Mangal and Gopal.

Gopal paid off...

By 5 pm the sahib's fatigue turned into fever and a stomach ache.

"How much for the room?" asked the sahib as Mukesh helped him down the stairs and into his car.

"No charge, Sahib." said Mota-bhai as he took the Rs. 50 from his ledger and handed it to the sahib. "Please feel better and come back to see us soon".

The air-conditioned Toyota Innova luxury taxi with its Rs. 50, sahib, stomach ache, and fever sped away to Madhopur in a cloud of dust.

Mota-bhai watched the dust settle. He smiled and drew a line in his ledger. He wrote tomorrow's date on a new page.

Everyone in Sirka was debt-free.

The sahib was gone. All ledger balances were zero.