The Householder by Ruth Prawer Jhabvala Page A

himself, it again occurred to Prem that he really ought to make a second attempt on Mr. Khanna for the rise in salary. The first attempt had to be regarded in the light merely of groundwork, on which he must now start building an edifice of persuasion. But these things, he told himself, had above all to be done with subtlety and tact; and what occasion better for subtlety and tact than a tea-party? Anything could happen at a tea-party: meeting him thus, for the first time on social terms, Mr. Khanna might take a great liking to him; or perhaps Indu, if she behaved nicely, might make a good impression and dispose Mr. Khanna to regard them as a deserving young couple who should be given all help and encouragement in their struggle with life. So he decided to postpone his second attempt on the Principal till after Sunday’s tea-party had given him opportunity to improve his position.
    But his first attempt on his landlord was still open. He disliked the prospect of asking Mr. Seigal for a reduction in rent, and half realized that dislike had been quietly prompting him to indefinite postponements. But it was such postponements, he now told himself, which were responsible for his position of unsuccess. ‘Strive and strive and strive again!’ he exhorted himself, with a show of bravery; and turned promptly to the wrong person for advice and encouragement.
    â€˜Mr. Sohan Lal,’ he said, ‘do you think it is possible to ask a landlord to take less rent?’
    The bell rang, indicating the end of their little break. Mr. Chaddha shut his book smartly and got up at once to go to his class-room. Prem felt constrained to follow him. He was always afraid of arriving in the class-room later than Mr. Chaddha, for he knew his students would be noisy and perhaps disturb Mr. Chaddha. Sohan Lal too got up to go to his class-room; but, like Prem, he did so if not reluctantly then at least with a certain melancholy resignation.
    â€˜A landlord must understand that a man’s burdens increase as he becomes older,’ Prem said, out in the narrow little corridor.
    â€˜They increase,’ agreed Sohan Lal with a gentle sigh. They were standing outside his class-room. His students were having a pretence game of volley ball. They were tossing a rubber from one to another, shouting ‘Pass this side!’ and taking up attitudes of mock defence. Sohan Lal glanced in apprehensively.
    â€˜A landlord must have feeling. When a person is in difficulties, he cannot only say to him go away.’
    â€˜It would be wrong,’ Sohan Lal agreed.
    â€˜On the contrary, he must help that person and be like a father to him. We must all have love and help one another.’
    â€˜Here, this side!’ came lusty voices out of Sohan Lal’s class-room, and there was a noise of pushing and laughing, of hard young bodies in energetic action. From farther down the corridor came Mr. Chaddha’s voice raised in lecture tone. Reluctantly—for he found his present discussion very interesting—Prem started towards his classroom. He could hear Sohan Lal ineffectively calling to his students: ‘Please be in your seats!’
    On the way home he reverted to thoughts about how people ought to help one another and love one another. ‘What am I by myself?’ he thought. ‘I can do nothing, I am weak and helpless and need the support of a father.’ He wanted to go to Mr. Seigal and say to him, ‘You are my father’, and stand before him, humble and submissive, like a child. Then Mr. Seigal would see that it was his duty to reduce the rent.
    When he reached the house, he at once knocked on the Seigals’ door before he could weaken in his resolution. Through the fly-screen he could see the Seigals’ son Romesh sitting on the sofa, reading a film magazine. Romesh called ‘Come in’ and seemed pleased to see Prem. He showed his magazine and said,’ I am very fond of the cinema. I go