Complete English Translation: Daroga Ji
Yesterday evening, having some urgent errand to attend to, I hired a tonga and was proceeding on my way when another gentleman climbed aboard and seated himself beside me. The tonga driver had no desire whatsoever to take him on, yet he dared not refuse. Who would voluntarily invite trouble with a policeman?
This gentleman was a sub-inspector of police—a Daroga. He had come to the district headquarters to prosecute a court case.
It is my ingrained habit to speak as little as possible with policemen. To tell the honest truth, I loathe the very sight of their faces. How much suffering the common people have had to endure at their hands is something I have experienced more than once in this life.
I edged away toward one side and turned my face to look in the opposite direction.
Noticing this, the Daroga said, "Janab, it is a very common complaint that policemen take enormous bribes. But nobody ever bothers to see how relentlessly policemen are forced into accepting bribes! If policemen were to stop taking bribes, I swear upon oath, all these grand gentlemen in towering turbans whom you see strutting about would be found sitting inside the four walls of the jailhouse! If we started prosecuting every single petty offense, the world would vilify the police even more. You would hardly believe it, Janab—bags of silver and gold are literally pressed against our chests! We may refuse a thousand times, but pressures descend upon us from all four sides until we are left helpless and compelled to take it."
I remarked with a touch of mockery, "The very deed that is performed after pocketing money could surely be performed without taking money as well."
The Daroga laughed and replied, "Why, that would be committing a sin without tasting its pleasure, my good benefactor! A police officer is not an ascetic demi-god, and to my mind, perhaps no human being can ever be so utterly detached. I look at men in all walks of life, and I have yet to encounter a single angel among them..."
I was just about to offer some retort to this when a gentleman wearing a long achkan coat and a Turkish fez passed directly in front of our tonga.
The moment the Daroga caught sight of him, he bowed low and offered a respectful salam, and was perhaps about to inquire after the gentleman's good health when that worthy fellow responded to the greeting with a volley of filthy abuses!
When the tonga moved a few paces ahead, the man snatched up a heavy stone and sprinted after our carriage. The tonga driver whipped the horse into a gallop. That gentleman accelerated his pace as well and hurled the stone. My head escaped by a hair's breadth!
He picked up a second stone, which came crashing down right before us. The third stone was flung with such furious force that it struck the Daroga squarely on the knee, inflicting a severe injury.
By this time, however, the horse had bolted far enough ahead that we were safely out of stone's throw.
Even so, the barrage of curses continued unabated. Until that man was swallowed up by the distance, we could still see him standing in the road, a stone clutched in one hand, showering foul abuses upon our heads.
When my agitated spirit had calmed a little, I asked the Daroga, "Who on earth is that man, Sahib? Is he insane?"
Rubbing his bruised knee, the Daroga replied, "He is not mad, Sahib; he is an old enemy of mine. I had assumed the wretch would have forgotten past occurrences by now. Otherwise, what foolish itch had seized me that I should offer him a salam?"
I asked, "Did you perhaps have him sentenced to prison in some criminal case?"
"It is a very long tale, Janab! Just understand this much: if he had his way, he would swallow me down alive!"
"You are only fanning the flames of my curiosity," I said. "Now my mind will find no rest until I hear the complete story."
Shifting his posture on the carriage seat, the Daroga began:
"Very well, then listen. Several years ago, I was stationed right here at the district headquarters. Those were carefree days—young blood, full of vigor. My eyes met those of a certain beauty. Visits and rendezvous commenced. Even today, whenever the memory of that lovely woman (Haseena) crosses my mind, tears spring to my eyes.
"Never have I witnessed such modesty, such fidelity, such tender delicacy among women of the bazaar. Two years passed in her company with such boundless delight that even today I weep at the recollection.
"However, I will not spin out the tale unnecessarily, lest it remain half-told. In brief: after two years, orders for my transfer arrived. The grief that struck my heart at that moment would require volumes to describe. My soul wished for nothing else than to tender my resignation on the spot!
"When Haseena heard the news, life seemed to drain from her body. I was granted three days to prepare for my departure. We spent those three days weaving elaborate castles in the air. At that time I realized what a grievous error we commit in assuming women to be devoid of good sense. My schemes were like the fantasies of a daydreaming fool—let us elope to Calcutta, open a shop there, or some similar wild proposal.
"She, however, gave me this sensible counsel: 'Go there for now and attend to your duties. Once you have arranged a suitable house, send for me. I shall come running.'
"At last the hour of parting arrived. It felt as though my soul could not survive the wrench. The train's departure time was slipping away, yet I could not bring myself to rise from her side.
"But once again I am dragging out the narrative. The substance of it is that I departed with a firm promise to send for her within two or three days.
"Alas! Those two or three days never arrived. The first week or ten days were consumed in paying respects to superior officers and inspecting my new jurisdiction. Right after that, a letter arrived from home announcing that my marriage had been arranged and commanding me to take leave and come home at once.
"In the festive euphoria of marriage, all concern for that goddess of fidelity vanished from my mind. After getting married, I returned to my post a month later with my bride. Whatever lingering memory of Haseena remained was wiped clean away.
"She sent me a letter after a month, but I never sent a reply. I lived in constant dread that she might suddenly appear on my doorstep one fine day and plant herself above my head, leaving me unable to show my face to my wife."
"A year later, official business compelled me to visit the district headquarters once again. At that moment, the memory of that woman returned to me. I thought, 'Let me go and see what condition she is in.'
"I instantly rehearsed ready-made excuses for why I had not written letters and why I had failed to visit for so long, and marched up to her doorstep.
"The doorway was neat and tidy; the house appeared in far better condition than before. My heart felt glad that her circumstances were not as miserable as I had feared. And why should they be miserable? Are there no other men in the world like me?
"I knocked at the door. It was bolted from inside.
"A voice called out, 'Who is there?'
"I said, 'Aha! Forgotten so soon? It is I, Bashir...'
"No answer came. It was her voice beyond all doubt; why then did she not open the door? Surely she was furious with me.
"I knocked again and began reciting the tale of my imagined misfortunes through the door.
"After about fifteen minutes, the door opened. Haseena signaled me inside and snapped the bolt shut behind us.
"I said, 'I have come to beg your forgiveness. After leaving here, I fell into terrible entanglements. The jurisdiction is so vile that one doesn't get a moment's respite even to catch one's breath.'
"Without looking at me, her eyes fixed upon the floor, Haseena replied: 'What is there to forgive? You and I were never married by nikah. If your heart became attached elsewhere, why should you remember me? I have no grievance against you. You did precisely what other men do. Is it not enough that you have deigned to come this way after so long? I hope you have remained well?'
"'I am alive somehow,' I said.
"'Perhaps it is from melting in the pangs of separation that this paunch has burst out!' she remarked coldly. 'God forbid that I speak a lie, but you have grown twice as fat since then.'
"Feeling embarrassed, I stammered, 'This is all due to an excess of phlegm. How could I grow fat? The water in that region is terribly phlegmatic. But you have forgotten all memory of me.'
"This time she turned a piercing gaze upon me and retorted, 'You did not even deign to answer my letter, and yet you turn around and accuse me? I considered you unfaithful from the very beginning, and you proved to be exactly that. You brought home a wife and did not even send me a line?'"
"I asked in surprise, 'How did you learn that I had gotten married?'
"She said coldly, 'What will you gain by asking? I am not speaking a falsehood. I have seen many unfaithful men in my life, but you surpassed them all. Hearing your voice at the door, my impulse was to drive you away like a dog; but I opened the door thinking, why should I humiliate someone at my own threshold?'
"I took off my coat and hung it on a peg, kicked off my shoes, reclined comfortably on the cot, and said: 'Laila, look here, do not treat me with such harsh cruelty. I confess my own transgressions, and that is precisely why I have come to beg your pardon. Prepare a betel leaf with your delicate hands and feed it to me. Tell me truly, why would you ever think of me? You must have found some other lover.'
"Laila opened the betel box and began folding a paan when suddenly someone began knocking violently at the outer door!
"Panicking, I asked, 'What devil has arrived now?'
"Placing a finger to her lips, Haseena whispered: 'It is my husband. When I gave up all hope from you, I entered into a nikah with him.'
"Frowning in agitation, I exclaimed, 'Then why didn't you tell me beforehand? I would have turned on my heels and walked away! Why bring about this predicament? What ancient grudge are you settling against me?'
"'How was I to know he would arrive so early?' she whispered. 'Usually he returns late at night. Moreover, you had come from such a distance; I had to show you some hospitality.'
"'A fine hospitality this is!' I cried. 'Tell me, where am I to go now?'
"'I cannot think of anything myself,' she gasped. 'O Allah! What agony have I fallen into!'
"Meanwhile, that gentleman was pounding on the outer door as though he would shatter the wood to splinters. Colors kept changing upon Haseena's face; the poor woman stood shivering from head to foot, her lips merely whispering: 'O Allah, have mercy!'
"A booming voice roared from outside: 'Hey! Have you fallen asleep at sundown? It isn't even eight o'clock yet! Has a snake bitten you? By God, if you delay another moment, I will split these door panels into kindling!'
"I begged her, 'For God's sake, show me some place to hide! Is there no back door?'
"'No!'
"'Is there a latrine?'
"'That is the very first place he will inspect!'
"'Well then, what about that small storeroom facing us?'
"'Yes, it is there, but what if he opens it and looks inside?'
"'Is he a very powerfully built man?' I asked.
"'He could tuck two men like you under his armpits!'
"'Then open the storeroom! The moment he steps inside the house, I will dart out the front door and flee!'"
"Haseena unlocked the storeroom. I squeezed inside, and the door was shut tight behind me.
"Having locked me inside the closet, Haseena went and opened the front door, complaining: 'Why are you battering the door down? I am coming, am I not?'
"I peered through the cracks of the closet door. The man was not a human being—he was a veritable demon!
"The moment he entered, he barked, 'Were you asleep right at nightfall?'
"'Yes, I had just dozed off for a moment.'
"'It seemed to me you were talking to someone.'
"'Even the wise physician Luqman had no cure for suspicion!'
"'I heard distinctly!' he roared. 'There was definitely someone here. You have hidden him away somewhere!'
"'It is precisely this habit of yours that burns my soul,' she retorted. 'The entire house lies before you; why don't you look for yourself?'
"'I will certainly look, but I ask you plainly: tell me, who was it?'
"Haseena flung the bunch of keys at him: 'If there was anyone, he must be inside the house! Here, go and inspect every corner. A man is not a sewing needle that I could hide him away!'
"That demon was not to be duped by such tricks. Perhaps he had suffered a similar burn in the past. Snatching up the ring of keys, he marched directly to my closet door and attempted to unlock it!
"The key to that padlock was not on the ring.
"He bellowed, 'Where is the key to this room?'
"Feigning astonished innocence, Haseena said, 'Arre! Do you imagine someone is sitting hidden in there? It is packed full of firewood!'
"'Just hand over the key!' he shouted.
"'You act like a madman at times,' she said. 'What if a snake or scorpion creeps out in the dark? No, brother, I will not give you the key.'
"'To hell with snakes! It would be better if one bit me! Death is far better than this shameless existence!'
"Haseena pretended to search here and there: 'Who knows where I mislaid that key. I cannot recall.'
"'I have never seen a lock on this closet before!' the husband barked.
"'I lock it every day,' she lied. 'If I forgot once or twice, I cannot say.'
"'So you will not hand over the key?'
"'I tell you, it cannot be found at this moment!'
"'I warn you, I will devour you raw!'"
"Up to this point, I had somehow managed to hold my ground in silence. I was boiling with rage at myself: why had I come here? God only knew how this brute would behave. If he flew into a murderous rage, he might slaughter me on the spot! I didn't even have a knife in my hands.
"O God, You alone are my protector! I stood holding my breath, waiting for the slightest opening to bolt.
"But when that cursed fiend began pounding violently on the closet door panels, the soul seemed to depart from my body!
"I cast my eyes about frantically to see if there was any corner left to hide in. A sliver of light was filtering through the cracks. As I raised my eyes toward the ceiling, I caught sight of a raised wooden loft! A drowning man clutches at a straw!
"I leaped upward, intending to scramble onto the loft—when, seeing a man already crouched on the platform, a shriek escaped my lips!
"This gentleman was dressed in an achkan, wearing a watch, sporting a handsome turban, and sitting huddled in a miserable squat!
"Now the mystery became clear: this was why Haseena had taken so long to open the door for me!
"I had barely laid eyes on him when heavy blows like a pestle began crashing against the closet door. They were flimsy wooden panels; under three or four smashing blows, both leaves came crashing down, and that terrifying demon entered the room holding a lantern!
"You can well imagine my condition at that moment.
"The moment he spotted me, he set the lantern down, seized me by the throat, and snarled: 'Aha! So you are gracing us with your presence! Come along, let me offer you some hospitality! Where does one encounter such distinguished guests every day?'
"With these words, gripping one of my arms, he shoved me outward with such ferocious force that I went flying and landed flat on my face in the courtyard!
"Sparks of fire were flashing from that devil's eyes. It seemed his lips were reaching forward to suck the blood from my veins. Before I could even push myself up from the ground, that butcher advanced upon my neck brandishing a massive, gleaming knife!
"Yet Janab, after all, I am a man of the police! At that perilous instant, a brilliant stratagem flashed through my brain. It saved my life; otherwise, I would not be sitting beside you in this tonga today!
"Folding my hands in humble submission, I cried: 'Huzoor, I am completely innocent! I merely came in attendance upon Mir Sahib!'
"He thundered, 'Which Mir Sahib?'
"Summoning all my nerve, I said, 'The very one who is sitting up on the loft! I am merely Huzoor's humble slave—wherever he commands, I must accompany him. What fault is mine in this?'
"'Oho! So a certain Mir Sahib is gracing the loft as well?'
"He dragged me back into the room and shone the light up at the loft. There sat that worthy gentleman, huddled into himself like a drenched cat! His face had turned as white as paper, as though not a drop of blood remained in his veins.
"The husband grabbed his hand and gave it a violent yank; down came the gentleman, crashing heavily to the floor!
"Beholding his lavish attire, not a shadow of doubt remained that he was indeed my wealthy master! Looking at his pathetic plight, one felt a mixture of pity and laughter.
"'Who the devil are you?' the husband roared.
"'Sir, I... my house... this fellow is a liar! He is not my servant!' Mir Sahib stammered.
"'What did you come here for?'
"Looking at me, Mir Sahib whimpered, 'This scoundrel brought me here through deception!'
"'Why don't you confess that you came to indulge your lust?' roared the husband. 'You want to save your own skin by shifting blame onto others, you swine? Here—take this, so you may remember into whose hands you fell!'
"With that, brandishing his razor-sharp knife, he sliced off Mir Sahib's nose!
"Seizing that split-second opportunity, I fled for my life at breakneck speed! But the agonized shrieks of 'Hai! Hai!' were echoing in my ears as I ran.
"What transpired between the two of them afterward, and what disaster descended upon Haseena's head, I have no knowledge whatsoever. Since that night, I have visited the district headquarters scores of times, but I have never dared look in that direction even by mistake.
"This gentleman who was hurling stones at us today is that very same person whose nose was cut off! Today, God knows from where he appeared, and it was my sheer misfortune that I bowed and offered him a salam. Perhaps you didn't notice his nose?"
It now dawned upon me that the attacker's nose had indeed appeared somewhat flattened and disfigured.
I remarked, "Yes, his nose was rather flat. But you dealt that poor man a dreadful wound!"
"And what else could I have done?" the Daroga shrugged.
"You could certainly have overpowered him between the two of you," I said.
"We might have," the Daroga admitted, "but the heart of a thief is always shrunk in half. At that moment, each man was fighting for his own survival; who could think of putting up a united front? Had I been apprehended in that scandalous brawl, my honor would have been blasted and I would have been stripped of my uniform into the bargain.
"However, from now on, I shall have to remain on my guard against that man."
Just then, the tonga reached the city chowk, and we both went our separate ways.
Summary of Daroga Ji
Daroga Ji ("The Sub-Inspector") is a sharp, humorous, and satirical short story by Munshi Premchand that explores police corruption, cowardice, betrayal, and the lingering repercussions of past deeds.
The story opens with the narrator traveling in a horse-drawn tonga toward the town square. A police sub-inspector named Bashir climbs aboard without the driver's consent. The narrator, harboring deep resentment toward the police for their everyday oppression of citizens, avoids speaking to him. Unprovoked, Daroga Bashir launches into a cynical defense of police bribery, arguing that taking bribes is an act of necessity and mercy: without bribes, many prominent, high-status gentlemen would find themselves behind bars.
Suddenly, an enraged passerby in an achkan and Turkish cap hurls foul abuses and stones at the tonga, striking Bashir painfully on the knee. When the narrator inquires about the assailant, Bashir reveals that the man is a bitter personal enemy and recounts the backstory. Years earlier, while stationed in the town as a young officer, Bashir carried on a passionate two-year affair with a beautiful courtesan named Haseena. Upon being transferred, he promised to settle down and summon her, but soon succumbed to familial pressure, married another woman, and abandoned Haseena completely.
A year later, Bashir returned to the town on official duty and paid a clandestine visit to Haseena's house. While inside, Haseena's new husband returned unexpectedly and pounded furiously upon the door. In terror, Bashir hid in a dark storage room, where he discovered another man, Mir Sahib, already hiding upon a wooden loft. When the furious husband smashed the door and cornered Bashir with a butcher's knife, Bashir shrewdly saved his own life by claiming he was merely the humble servant of "Mir Sahib" on the loft. Deceived and infuriated, the husband dragged Mir Sahib down and sliced off his nose with the knife, allowing Bashir to escape into the night.
The man who attacked the tonga with stones was none other than the mutilated Mir Sahib. Bashir concludes that while his cunning saved his life and career that night, the karmic legacy of his betrayal has created a lifelong enemy against whom he must constantly remain on guard.
Publication History
Daroga Ji (दारोगाजी) was written by Munshi Premchand in 1928 and was later included in Volume 4 of his celebrated short-story anthology Mansarovar (Mansarovar Part 4).
The story reflects Premchand's keen satiric observation of colonial police functionaries, combining humorous narrative techniques with acute psychological realism and moral commentary.
This unabridged English translation was published in 2026 by MunshiPremchand.com as part of the MunshiPremchand.com English Translation Series.
Themes & Critical Significance
- Police Corruption and Moral Rationalization: Through Daroga Bashir's opening monologue, Premchand satirizes the psychological justifications corrupt officials invent to normalize bribery. Bashir frames corruption not as a crime, but as a practical public service that preserves elite reputations and prevents institutional collapse.
- Selfishness and Cowardice in Romance: Bashir professes deep, poetic love for Haseena, yet his conduct is marked by callous opportunism. He abandons her without a word, returns only out of vanity and lust, and readily sacrifices another man's safety to preserve his own skin.
- The Karmic Echo of Betrayal: The story illustrates how cowardly actions produce long-lasting moral consequences. Bashir believes he escaped cleanly from the scandal, yet the mutilated Mir Sahib emerges years later as an embodied reminder of his dishonorable past.
- Dramatic Irony and Satire: Premchand utilizes a travel dialogue frame and sharp farcical elements—such as two rival suitors hiding in the same closet and the absurd master-servant deception—to dismantle the arrogant authority of the colonial police officer, exposing the terrified coward lurking behind the uniform.
- Broader Social Significance: Daroga Ji presents a vivid, entertaining critique of colonial policing, male hypocrisy, and the fragility of honor built upon deceit and exploitation.