MY FAVOURITE SHORT STORIES
Part 1 - The Ant and the Grasshopper
By
VIKRAM KARVE
The best thing that happened to me was the Navy. Way back, in the 1970s, when I joined the Navy, life was good. There was never a dull moment. Something was always happening, and I came across a variety of unique personalities – yes, exciting situations and inimitable characters.
Those were the best days of my life. Even now, whenever I reminisce about my “good old” Navy days and recall the unforgettable characters I met there and whenever I hark back to the hilarious incidents (in hindsight), those cherished memories always fill me with cheer, and sometimes bring a smile, maybe a laugh, to my lips.
I always liked to read, but it was the Navy that gave a real impetus to my reading habit. Junior Officers were encouraged to develop the habit of reading and it was considered an Officer Like Quality (OLQ) to be well-informed in addition to being proficient and well-versed in professional matters. So, in addition to my professional books and technical literature, I always reading something literary – maybe a biography (say, military or naval biographical literature to inspire me) or war stories or fiction or a classic from literature. The Navy had well-stocked libraries, afloat and ashore, which had a wide variety of books ranging from the rare to contemporary on a wide variety of subjects. This easy access to the diverse forms of the best literature really facilitated my reading habit. I always had a book in hand and reading formed a part of my daily routine. When we were young bachelors, naval life also afforded an excellent opportunity to play all sorts of sports, especially team games with the men like football, hockey, water-polo and basketball, and this, along with the social aspects of naval life, helped us develop well-rounded personalities.
Now let’s talk a bit about my reading. Of all genres of literature I personally like the Short Story. A good short story can be read in one sitting and has intense impact on the reader as it succinctly delivers the message with the force of brevity and wit. I learnt more about the art of living and a philosophical approach to life by reading short stories since every short story gives you a message, some food for thought. Unlike moral lectures and sermons, Short Stories tend to present rather than preach; their values are more often implicit than explicit.
Rather than pontificate further, I think I will share with you some of my favourite short stories in my blog. So here is one of my all time favourites:The Ant and the Grasshopper By W Somerset Maugham. This story is freely available on the internet (just google it or try any search engine or literary site). I am giving a link to the story and, for your convenience, I also pasting the story below (from the url link mentioned below):
The Ant and the Grasshopper
By
W Somerset Maugham
When I was a very small boy I was made to learn by heart certain of the fables of La Fontaine, and the moral of each was carefully explained to me. Among those I learnt was The Ant and the Grasshopper, which is devised to bring home to the young the useful lesson that in an imperfect world industry is rewarded and giddiness punished. In this admirable fable (I apologise for telling something which everyone is politely, but inexactly, supposed to know) the ant spends a laborious summer gathering its winter store; while the grasshopper sits on a blade of grass singing to the sun. Winter comes and the ant is comfortably provided for, but the grasshopper has an empty larder: he goes to the ant and begs for a little food. Then the ant gives him her classic answer:
"What were you doing in the summer time?"
"Saving your presence, I sang, I sang all day, all night."
"You sang. Why, then go and dance."
I do not ascribe it to perversity on my part, but rather to the inconsequence of childhood, which is deficient in moral sense, that I could never quite reconcile myself to the lesson. My sympathies were with the grasshopper and for some time I never saw an ant without putting my foot on it. In this summary (and, as I have discovered since, entirely human) fashion I sought to express my disapproval of prudence and commonsense.
I could not help thinking of this fable when the other day I saw George Ramsay lunching by himself in a restaurant.
I never saw anyone wear an expression of such deep gloom. He was staring into space. He looked as though the burden of the whole world sat on his shoulders. I was sorry for him: I suspected at once that his unfortunate brother had been causing trouble again. I went up to him and held out my hand.
"How are you?" I asked.
"I'm not in hilarious spirits," he answered.
"Is it Tom again?"
He sighed.
"Yes, it's Tom again."
"Why don't you chuck him?" You've done everything in the world for him. You must know by now that he's quite hopeless.
I suppose every family has a black sheep. Tom had been a sore trial for twenty years. He had begun life decently enough: he went into business, married and had two children. The Ramsays were perfectly respectable people and there was every reason to suppose that Tom Ramsay would have a useful and honourable career. But one day, without warning, he announced that he didn't like work and that he wasn't suited for marriage. He wanted to enjoy himself. He would listen to no expostulations. He left his wife and his office. He had a little money and he spent two happy years in the various capitals of Europe. Rumours of his doings reached his relations from time to time and they were profoundly shocked. He certainly had a very good time. They shook their heads and asked what would happen when his money was spent. They soon found out: he borrowed. He was charming and unscrupulous. I have never met anyone to whom it was more difficult to refuse a loan. He made a steady income from his friends and he made friends easily. But he always said that the money you spent on necessities was boring; the money that was amusing to spend was the money you spent on luxuries. For this he depended on his brother George. He did not waste his charm on him. George was a serious man and insensible to such enticements. George was respectable. Once or twice he fell to Tom's promises of amendment and gave him considerable sums in order that he might make a fresh start. On these Tom bought a motorcar and some very nice jewellery. But when circumstances forced George to realise that his brother would never settle down and he washed his hands of him, Tom, without a qualm, began to blackmail him. It was not very nice for a respectable lawyer to find his brother shaking cocktails behind he bar of his favourite restaurant or to see him waiting on the box-seat of a taxi outside his club. Tom said that to serve in a bar or to drive a taxi was a perfectly decent occupation, but if George could oblige him with a couple of hundred pounds he didn't mind for the honour of the family giving it up. George paid.
Once Tom nearly went to prison. George was terribly upset. He went into the whole discreditable affair. Really Tom had gone too far. He had been wild, thoughtless and selfish; but he had never before done anything dishonest, by which George meant illegal; and if he were prosecuted he would assuredly be convicted. But you cannot allow your only brother to go to gaol. The man Tom had cheated, a man called Cronshaw, was vindictive. He was determined to take the matter into court; he said Tom was a scoundrel and should be punished. It cost George an infinite deal of trouble and five hundred pounds to settle the affair. I have never seen him in such a rage as when he heard that Tom and Cronshaw had gone off together to Monte Carlo the moment they cashed the cheque. They spent a happy month there.
For twenty years Tom raced and gambled, philandered with the prettiest girls, danced, ate in the most expensive restaurants, and dressed beautifully. He always looked as if he had just stepped out of a bandbox. Though he was forty-six you would never have taken him for more than thirty-five. He was a most amusing companion and though you knew he was perfectly worthless you could not but enjoy his society. He had high spirits, an unfailing gaiety and incredible charm. I never grudged the contributions he regularly levied on me for the necessities of his existence. I never lent him fifty pounds without feeling that I was in his debt. Tom Ramsay knew everyone and everyone knew Tom Ramsay. You could not approve of him, but you could not help liking him.
Poor George, only a year older than his scapegrace brother, looked sixty. He had never taken more than a fortnight's holiday in the year for a quarter of a century. He was in his office every morning at nine-thirty and never left it till six. He was honest, industrious and worthy. He had a good wife, to whom he had never been unfaithful even in thought, and four daughters to whom he was the best of fathers. He made a point of saving a third of his income and his plan was to retire at fifty-five to a little house in the country where he proposed to cultivate his garden and play golf. His life was blameless. He was glad that he was growing old because Tom was growing old too. He rubbed his hands and said: "It was all very well when Tom was young and good-looking, but he's only a year younger than I am. In four years he'll be fifty. He won't find life so easy then. I shall have thirty thousand pounds by the time I'm fifty. For twenty-five years I've said that Tom would end in the gutter. And we shall see how he likes that. We shall see if it really pays best to work or be idle."
Poor George! I sympathized with him. I wondered now as I sat down beside him what infamous thing Tom had done. George was evidently very much upset.
"Do you know what's happened now?" he asked me.
I was prepared for the worst. I wondered if Tom had got into the hands of the police at last. George could hardly bring himself to speak.
"You're not going to deny that all my life I've been hardworking, decent, respectable and straightforward. After a life of industry and thrift I can look forward to retiring on a small income in gilt-edged securities. I've always done my duty in that state of life in which it has pleased Providence to place me."
"True."
"And you can't deny that Tom has been an idle, worthless, dissolute and dishonourable rogue. If there were any justice he'd be in the workhouse."
"True."
George grew red in the face.
"A few weeks ago he became engaged to a woman old enough to be his mother. And now she's died and left him everything she had. Half a million pounds, a yacht, a house in London and a house in the country."
George Ramsay beat his clenched fist on the table.
"It's not fair, I tell you; it's not fair. Damn it, it's not fair."
I could not help it. I burst into a shout of laughter as I looked at George's wrathful face, I rolled in my chair; I very nearly fell on the floor. George never forgave me. But Tom often asked me to excellent dinners in his charming house in Mayfair, and if he occasionally borrows a trifle from me, that is merely from force of habit. It is never more than a sovereign.
Look around you. Don’t you see similar things happening in real life? Life is unfair, isn’t it? I see this happen every day. Easy going and laid-back people succeed and the sincere and hardworking guys do not get their due. Despite all the moral lectures about sincerity and hard work you have been subjected to in your childhood you learn from your life’s experience that there is no logical connection between efforts and rewards and it is your fate, luck or destiny that plays a major role in your life.
So what does one do?
The best is to adopt a philosophical approach to life. Here is a saying from Lao-tzu from Tao Te Ching:
Fill your bowl to the brim and it will spill.
Keep sharpening your knife and it will blunt.
Chase after money and security and your heart will never unclench.
Care about other people's approval and you will be their prisoner.
Do your work, then step back.
The only path to serenity.
--Lao-tzu, Tao Te Ching, ch. 9
Yes, that is the key - Do your work, then step back.
Or better still, let Chapter 2 Verse 47 of The Bhagavad Gita be your guide:karmany evadhikarass te maphalesu kadacana ma karma-phala-hetur bur ma te sango stv akarmani (Seek to perform your duty; but lay not claim to its fruits. You have a right to perform your prescribed action, but you are not entitled to the fruits of your action. Never consider yourself the cause of the results your activities, but neither should you avoid doing your duty).
So that’s the moral of the story, isn’t it?
Always do your best without expecting results and you will be happy.
I have so many favourite short stories that this is going to be long series. And I promise to pontificate a bit less next time. But I cannot help sermonising a little, for like I said it the messages in short stories that helped me adopt a philosophical approach to life. Till we meet next time, here is a quote from Somerset Maugham for you to reflect on:
It's a funny thing about life; if you refuse to accept anything but the best, you very often get it.
W. Somerset Maugham
Dear Reader, if you like reading short stories I am sure you will like the stories in COCKTAIL my recently published collection of 27 short stories about relationships. To know more, please click the link below:
Happy Reading
VIKRAM KARVE
© vikram karve., all rights reserved.
About Vikram Karve
A creative person with a zest for life, Vikram Karve is a retired Naval Officer turned full time writer. Educated at IIT Delhi, ITBHU Varanasi, The Lawrence School Lovedale and Bishops School Pune, Vikram has published two books: COCKTAIL a collection of fiction short stories about relationships (2011) and APPETITE FOR A STROLL a book of Foodie Adventures(2008) and is currently working on his novel. An avid blogger, he has written a number of fiction short stories and creative non-fiction articles in magazines and journals for many years before the advent of blogging. Vikram has taught at a University as a Professor for almost 14 years and now teaches as a visiting faculty and devotes most of his time to creative writing. Vikram lives in Pune India with his family and muse - his pet dog Sherry with whom he takes long walks thinking creative thoughts.
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