Haldar Saheb had to pass through that town every fifteenth day in connection with company work. The town was not very big. There were only a few houses that could be called 'pukka' (concrete) and only one market that could be called a 'bazaar'. In the town, there was one boys' school, one girls' school, one small cement factory, two open-air cinemas, and one municipality. Since there was a municipality, it kept doing something or the other. Sometimes getting a road paved, sometimes building some urinals, sometimes building a shelter for pigeons, and sometimes organizing a poet's gathering. It was one enthusiastic board or administrative officer of this very municipality who once installed a marble statue of Netaji Subhash Chandra Bose at the main square of the main market of the 'city'. This story is about that very statue, or rather about a small part of it.
The full story is not known now, but it seems that due to the lack of information about good sculptors in the country and the cost of a good statue being much more than the estimated and available budget, a lot of time must have been wasted in indecision and correspondence, and in the final hours of the board's tenure, the decision must have been made to give an opportunity to a local artist, and finally, the only drawing master of the town's only high school—let's say Motilal Ji—must have been entrusted with this work, who was confident of making and 'plonking down' the statue within a month.
As already mentioned, the statue was made of marble, about two feet high from the tip of the cap to the second button of the coat. A bust, as they call it, and it was beautiful. Netaji looked handsome. Somewhat innocent and young. In a military uniform. Upon seeing the statue, slogans like 'Delhi Chalo' (March to Delhi) and 'Tum Mujhe Khoon Do...' (Give me blood...) would come to mind. From this perspective, it was a successful and commendable effort. There was only one flaw which one noticed immediately.was bothersome. Netaji did not have glasses on his eyes. That is, there were glasses, but they were not made of marble. A normal and real pair of glasses with a thick black frame was placed on the statue. When Haldar Saheb first passed through this town and stopped to eat paan at the crossroads, he noticed this, and a curious smile spread across his face. Wow, brother! This idea is also good. The statue is made of stone, but the glasses are real!
Even after the jeep left the town, Haldar Saheb kept thinking about this statue and finally came to the conclusion that, all in all, this effort of the town's citizens should be called commendable. The importance is not of the statue's appearance or height, but of the sentiment, otherwise, patriotism is also becoming a joke these days.
The second time Haldar Saheb passed that way, he noticed some difference in the statue. He looked closely and found that the glasses were different. Earlier there were square glasses with a thick frame, now there are round glasses with a wire frame. Haldar Saheb's curiosity increased even more. Wow, brother! What an idea. The statue cannot change clothes, but it can change glasses.
The third time there were new glasses again.
Haldar Saheb got into the habit - stopping at the crossroads every time he passed through the town, eating paan, and looking carefully at the statue. Once, when his curiosity became uncontrollable, he asked the paanwala, "Why, brother! What's the matter? How do these glasses of your Netaji change every time?"
The paanwala himself had paan stuffed in his mouth. He was a black, fat, and cheerful man. Hearing Haldar Saheb's question, he laughed to himself. His belly shook. He turned around, spat the paan below the shop, and showing his red-black teeth, said, 'Captain Chashmewala does it.'
"What does he do?" Haldar Saheb couldn't understand.