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APRIL, 1921]
HIR AND RANJHA
7
Whereupon the mullâh protested that he knew all the doctrines of the faith and all the prayers ordained for believers, and could lead the pious across the bridge of salvation, "but," said he, lewd fellows like Ranjha should be spurned from the assemblies of honest men."
Hearing this, Ranjha jested, right merrily at the mullâh's morals and his baudy tricks, so that his hearers were much astonished and not a few were mightily pleased. And he teased the mullah sorely saying:-"Mullahs run after women in mosques and cultivate land like laymen. They are like curses clinging to the House of God. They are like blind men, lepers and cripples, always waiting greedily for a death in the house, so that they may take the dead man's raiment. They arise at midnight; their fat bellies are smitten with hunger and they cry for something to eat. Under the shelter of Holy Writ they curse the living, and when poor wayfarers and strangers come to beg for succour they cry: "Begone, begone!'"
The mullah's face was blackened. He hung his head and there was no spirit left in him. So he said to Rânjha :-"Remember God and cover your knees. I give you leave to pass the night in the mosque, but see to it, foolish Jât, that you leave it with covered head at early dawn, or I will summon four lusty scoundrels who will belabour you with cudgels and thrust you out of the assembly."
So Ranjha slept in the mosque during the night and at early dawn he set forth on his travels. In his heart he remembered Hir and his mind was set on how he might compass his desire.
As he set out, the skirt of night was lifted and the yellow dawn appeared. The sparrow chirruped and the starlings began to sing. The men took their oxen out to plough, and the girls brought their milking stools and cleaned their milk cans. The women of the household began to grind corn, while others kneaded flour with their hands: the noise of the grinding stones was heard in every courtyard.
CHAPTER 3.
(Ranjha reaches the banks of the Chenab.)
At the third watch of the day, when the sun began to slope to the west, Rânjha reached the bank of the River Chenâb. Many travellers were assembled at the ferry waiting for Luddan the ferryman to take them across. Now Luddan was as fat as a leather bag full of honey, such as trader folk bring home, when they come with merchandise from Kashmir. Ranjha said: "Master ferryman, for the love of God take me across the river." And Luddan smote his fat paunch, laughed, and with a bawdy oath replied:-"We know naught of God's love. We ply this ferry for gain." And Ranjha entreated him saying "I sorely need to reach my journey's end with despatch. I myself will take an oar. Luddan replied: "He who is for yonder shore, let him pay his pence. Him who gives his pence we will take across; even though he be a dacoit or thief we will not repeat his name, but we chaso away all beggars, faqirs and those who eat unlawful meats like dogs. Those who attempt to enter our boat forcibly we throw into the river. Even the son of a Pir like Wâris, 1 we will not take into our boat for nothing." At last Ranjha, weary of entreating the ferryman, sat down in a corner by himself. He drew out his flute and played
1 Reference to the poet.
