Lecture One: Five Rupees Lent to a Friend

"The husband has lent a friend five rupees.

The wife's lecture, with the principles of thrift and housekeeping."

Be dust, be a swine, be a dead dog, if you will;
Be whatever you are, Urfi, but have a little money still. [TN: Persian couplet attributed to Urfi of Shiraz.]

You've gone and given it, haven't you? I told you a thousand times not to, but you wouldn't listen. I ask you, what kind of moneyed man are you, to go handing out money? Who knows what all could have been done with those five rupees; and if you went to ask for them back now, nobody would give you a cowrie. A woman's lot is ruined in your house. Here I am, trying every trick to cut down the spending, and you go about lending money. You will never get any sense about money. This curse will always rain down on your house. For three months now I have been asking you for one pair of grenadine pyjamas, and you don't listen. Of course not: when is there anything left over from lending? The wife can't have a pair of pyjamas made, let the wretched woman go about in rags, but you must go handing out loans. People say you do what your wife tells you. Oh, really? If people knew how things stand, why would they say it? The whole world spits at me: the lady of such a big house, and not so lucky as to have a second pair of pyjamas! Wherever you look, she's got the same pair on. Nobody knows that the very children may starve, but the master will go handing out loans all the same. The girls' scarves have worn through to the cotton, but in your house six months aren't up yet. I say, are six months up for handing out loans? And the six months for having clothes made will never come to an end. What's it to me? People will laugh at you yourself: "Father goes about lending money, and the girls haven't a thread of a scarf on their heads." The tax man called this morning; now let's see where the money comes from. I suppose the people you lent the money to will pay the house tax! For two days the window shutter has been off its hinge. I was going to call the carpenter, but what's the use of calling him now? Where will his wages come from? The wages have gone in the loan. So is the window to stay like this? This cold, and this wind, and such a little baby in my lap, and such a cruel wind blowing: God protect the child's life! He has caught a cold from just one day's draught; now he'll get pneumonia too, and then you'll go running after hakims and doctors; but now you won't see to the window. If any harm comes to the child, his blood will be on your head, I tell you. Tuesday, Tuesday eight, Wednesday nine, Thursday ten; on the tenth day the watchman's month is up, and if he doesn't get his pay that very day he'll leave. Then the master will find out what lending money is like. And there are so many burglaries these days, there's no end to them. When the watchman goes, as sure as God made us, a thief will come; and the day he makes off with everything, then we'll know what peace and safety were worth. When the household savings have gone out through a hole in the wall, then go lending money; not now. Our middle girl is ill every other day. I've wanted to take her to Kichhauchha for ever so long, but how can I take her? You're never free of lending; how am I to take her to Kichhauchha? [TN: Kichhauchha, in Oudh, has the shrine of the Sufi saint Ashraf Jahangir Simnani, visited for the cure of illness.] Let the girl die or let her live, all he cares about is throwing money away. In the whole house there isn't one bed with its foot-cord in order. Whichever bed you lie on, it's like lying in your grave. The food doesn't digest either; the whole household's stomachs are upset. If only some rope had been bought, why would this have happened? But what has that to do with you? Let me die or let me live, let the children sleep on the cots or go to blazes, you must throw money away. There are so many holes in the house and so many rats, God save us! How long I've been telling you to put a labourer on to block them up! But you don't listen.

"Well, then, set a rat-trap."

Set a rat-trap? Where is a rat-trap to come from, for me to set? When you have some respite from handing out loans, then there'll be a rat-trap. What was that noise? There you are, the thieves have started coming already!

It isn't thieves or anything of the sort; it's the cat rattling the door. You're frightening yourself for nothing.

I'm frightening myself for nothing! The chain on the door has been loose like that for years and years. Every day I shout at you to have the latch changed, but who listens? Anyone who likes can put his hand in, undo it and walk in. But it never even enters your head. If instead of lending money you had kept an eye on the house tax, why would I be crying?

To cut a long story short, gentlemen: without those five rupees the silk pyjamas were not made, the girls' clothes were left undone, the house tax was not paid, the shutter was not put back on the window, the baby very nearly got pneumonia, the watchman left, the girl fell ill, the beds were ruined, the rats dug the house to pieces, and the thieves broke in. In short, how much more shall I tell you? The husband, reciting a verse that spoke for his condition,

My state is in ruins at my lady's hand;
The Prophet's custom sticks in my throat, [TN: Persian. The "Prophet's custom" (sunnat) is marriage.]

fell asleep.