Head and Feet

By Mas Ruscitadewi

When his father, Ratu Peranda Agung Banjar, hereditary ruler of the regency, passed away, many people came to call - so many relatives and retainers, in fact, that the king's son could not remember all their names individually. Evidently, from the number of well-wishers, his father had been held in great esteem and, for that, he justifiably might have felt the right to be proud. In ceremony after ceremony that followed his father's death, it was the same: thousands of retainers and relatives were present, turning the prescribed rituals into festive events.

As the only son of the dead ruler, Ida Bagus Agung Mudita had no time to think about anything except for his prescribed role in the innumerable ceremonies and making sure that he fulfilled all his duties as the son. That was the only thing on his mind. As a result, when his close friend Madi Kandel asked him how he was doing, he didn't have time to take the question seriously

"Thankfully, everything is going well," he had replied emotionlessly. There was no opportunity for him to grieve over the death of his father. All the activity and bustle that surrounded the numerous ceremonies served to suppress the personal pain, and the many rites and formalities seemed to make the time pass more quickly. In the end, when he finally had the time for grieving, it almost seemed too late and his feelings too forced. The only thing he really felt was exhaustion.

Then one day at the university, where Mudita was pursuing a degree, his friend Kandel asked again, "So, ratu, are you really all right?" His tone of voice showed sympathy and understanding.

Mudita began to nod in agreement but then, as if he had just awoke from a long dream, he shook his head violently. "What was that you called me?" he asked his friend. Kandel had called him ratu - "your majesty" - the term of address used by subordinates when speaking to the hereditary king. Of course, he had heard himself addressed as such when all the ceremonies had been going on. But he had viewed the term's use in reference to himself as just one more part of the ritual, one more way of ensuring the ceremony's smooth progression.

"Ratu..." Mudita said the word out loud. "That's right, you've been calling me that ever since your family came to assist with my father's cremation. If we were in the palace right now, maybe I could understand you calling me that so that you wouldn't look strange in front of the others. But here, Kandel, on campus, where we study together? Why are you acting like that towards me? I'm your friend, not your ruler!"

A sense of deep disappointment welled inside Mudita's chest and he suddenly found himself starting to cry. Unable to hold back his hidden grief any longer, he cried all the harder. Now, at this point in time when he was most in need of friendship, he was being treated by people in ways foreign to him. Even his best friend, Kandel, was distancing himself from him. And this had all come to a head the moment that Kandel called him 'ratu'.

Kandel hesitated to speak, feeling that anything he might say would be wrong. He had known that Mudita would protest his use of the title. But he couldn't just call him Mudita any more. Now that Mudita had inherited his father's title, it would be insubordinate to call him by his name, all the more so because, in the traditional and hierarchical realm of things, his family was in service to Mudita's family.

He remembered a story his father once told him: "It was His Highness, Ratu Peranda Agung Banjar, who saved our family's position here. When your grandfather took a higher-caste Brahmin woman as his wife, the two of them might have been expelled from society, but the king showed them mercy. And so, as your grandfather once told me, there was nothing with which for them to repay this kindness, except through respect and loyal service." Thus it was that in times of calamity or misfortune, Kandel's family always went to their ruler's home where they would kiss his feet and ask for his blessings. For the family, this was not just a matter of ritual. This act was performed out of sincere respect. All members of the family did this willingly, even his aged grandfather.

"Our respect is all the greater because the one we hold in esteem is a wise man," his grandfather had told him when asked why the family continued to do this. And now, upon the death of Ratu Peranda Agung Banjar, the title of 'ratu' was transferred to Mudita. Though still a young man, he was now the regency's rightful ruler. Both as a friend and a subject, Kandel had realized this even before Mudita thought about it.

Kandel bowed towards Mudita and finally replied: "I am sorry, ratu, but as your servant I cannot do that. Upon the death of your father, your majesty succeeded him as ruler, and we, the members of the families who owe your family their allegiance, must be the first to pay homage." Kandel spoke emphatically, now even more convinced by the rightness of his grandfather's view that Mudita's family did not crave respect, and for that very reason were all the more worthy of the honor that was their due. This was reflected in Mudita himself, a young Brahmin for whom he had the utmost respect.

Mudita pleaded quietly with his friend: "But Kandel, haven't we always shown respect for each other and in a much better way? Even if you don't call me ratu or kiss my feet, I know that you respect me, and that is what I value." Even as he spoke he knew Kandel would not change his mind, let alone the other members of Kandel's family or those who knew him less well. Deep down, however, he hoped that Kandel might initiate a change in this tradition. Considering Kandel's education and how well he knew Mudita, he though this might be possible.

"Please don't ask me to do that," Kandel said. "Not because of myself, but because I am part of my family, I am one of the people. If it were only me, I'd make the sacrifice in order to save your majesty the discomfort. But I, as your servant, cannot upset the family and the people who honor you so highly, and therefore must ask for your majesty's understanding."

Feeling the sincerity in Kandel's voice and seeing that his friend was not going to change his mind, Mudita did not push him further. Unable to reach a solution, the two young men eventually fell silent. All that they had learned in the lecture halls and classrooms of the university could not resolve the complex issue before them. They could not look on 'caste' as simply a product of culture. They had to find a way not to upset others by their words or behavior.

Mudita asked Kandel not to visit him for a while, not until he had found a solution for himself. He knew the problem lay not with Kandel but with his own way of thinking.

And so Mudita searched constantly for the answer within himself. He tried to find a way to be at peace with the manner in which others treated him. It was at times like this that he thought of his recently deceased father. His father had taught him to respect not just all people but all creatures, even wrongdoers. "If you show a criminal respect, more often than not he will be ashamed of his crimes," his father had advised.

He felt as if there were no way out of the problem. He yearned to be the child again. How much happier he would be if there was someone to stroke his hair, to soothe him, as his father, mother and siblings used to do when he was small. Now, as ruler, no one was allowed to touch his head. If it were up to him, he decided, he would prefer to have his retainers and traditional subjects stroke his hair rather than kiss his feet. He knew, though, that that would be unacceptable to both his family and the people of the regency.

Feeling that he didn't have the answer to his problem, Mudita avoided his home and tried to spend as little time as possible in places where he might encounter his retainers. Increasingly, he spent his time at the temple where his father used to meditate. Almost unconsciously he began to imitate his father, practicing the yoga movements his father had taught him when he was small. He doubled his legs over until they touched his head. He felt comfortable doing this movement. He repeated it over and over, once, twice, three times, four times, and when he had done it for the ninth time, he snapped out of his trance.

"Head and feet - what's the difference? If the head can touch the feet and the feet can touch the head, then just as surely as the head and feet are equal, high caste or low caste are just the same."

His face glowed with a bright smile. He wanted to shout out. He couldn't wait to see Kandel, his best friend.

Translated by Sally Wellesley

This short story is taken from The Menagerie IV courtesy of Lontar Foundation.