“Your name?”

“Erragolla Mallayya, sir”.

“What is your profession?”

“We are shepherds... we tend sheep...”

“Why did you get jailed?”

“We were accused of killing someone. Somebody ordered life time imprisonment for us”.

~*~

“Go... go and get money...”

“Where from can I get it, dora? It is not even one year. I gave five hundred to the old. This new dora came even before six months passed. The dora who left told me that he would inform the new dora who left told me that he would inform the new dora that came in his place. This new dora said that he does not know anything about it. He demanded seven hundred rupees and soai nothing doing. I gave him what he demanded and as tending my sheep. It is not even two months and you came. Please don’t ask me a single paisa for four months to come, dora”.

“Show me your receipt”.

“Where is the question of a receipt, sir? When I asked him to give me the receipt he said he was allowing me to tend the sheep for a year. He further said he would be responsible for the arrangement”.

“That is not the truth. You are lying”.

“If you say it is a lie, will mean that I did not give him the money at all? You ask Golla Rajadu, Kittadu and Yenkadu. We three gave the money at the same time. If you want, call them and ask; Dora”. 

“Arei, don’t tell us all that. You have to pay a tax of twelve hundred rupees. If you don’t, I’ll have to prepare a chalan on the sheep go and get the money”.

“How can I find the money at this time to day? I’ll give it tomorrow morning. Where do you stay?”

“I stay in the land lord’s house. You must get the money early in the morning. I’ll have to leave by twelve after eating my food”.

“Sir, all the sheep are not mine. Half of them belong to dora. In the remaining ones, half belong to the villagers and the other half are mine. I will pay the find for my herd of thirty sheep. You please ask the dora for his sheep, sir. I’ll bring the villagers also to you. You can ask them how many sheep belong to whom”. 

“I don’t know all that”. 

“Well, them, I will pay for the villagers’ by asking them please ask dora for his share of the amount”.

“We don’t know all that”. 

“If so keep all the sheep with you. What you do... I too wil observe”.

“Arre, you are talking too cleverly”.

“What else sir, you stay with the dora. You eat in the house of dora. Yet you want me to pay his share of money. Are these the right words to be spoken?”

“Tie up this bas... and throw him in the zeep...”

“What is all this? The more I am quiet, the more you are talking big words. Earlier you asked your men to tie me up to the tree. Now you ask them to tie me up and throw me in the zeep. You are abusing me using objectionable words like bas... pest... why don’t you talk decent language?

The cheek of the shepherd received a resounding slap.

“Hit me. Beat me more. Alone as I am, four of you together beat me. What else are you capable of than this? You are beating a shepherd. In that herd half of the sheep belong to dora. Beat that dora if you can. He doesn’t even give me wages. I have to drudge for him without wages. I am a poor man ... I live in this village. What happened to you to ask me like that? You eat in dora’s house and sleep in dora’s house. But educated as you are can’t you ask him? You are doing a government job. You know how to beat a poor man, one who is lean like a stick”.

Slap... slap... he stopped beating as his hands ached. Blood started dripping from the shepherd’s mouth. 

“Is that enough! Is your hand achieving because of continuous beating? Beat me more. Kill me. You have no courage to ask that dora, you... beat me more. You eat what he feeds you with and bang your arms. In the town he got built a house for his sun-in-law and another for his son with the bribes he received. Don’t interfere with that dora. Kick us only. Tax the sheep that feed themselves in the forest. Where will cattle and sheep graze if it not in the forest? Shall I male then feed in the crop field? Then! What is this government?

~*~

“Arei Malliga? Have you not yet come to your senses? I learnt that you drank a lot yesterday and abused them. 

“I did not drink, sir. I am your slave”.

“Chat! How dare you answer me back? Don’t you want to live in the village?”

“It’s all your will and kindness. I am your slave. What do I know how to speak?

“Sir...!”

~*~

“Ah! How is it you have come here?”

“There are our sheep also in the herd- all the shepherds want to pay the tax themselves. They were stubborn till we came here”.

“What is it about?”

“Why do we pay the tax? Are they not receiving wages? Who asked them to allow their sheep to graze in the forest?”

“He himself will pay. You better go away.... you received money the other day towards the land that got lost in the canal of the Pochampad. I can convince the small officers of these areas. But this checking party has come from Warangal. They are not the people who listen if requested... go... go and get the money”.

~*~

“I am telling you beforehand. You must give me what you agreed to give me. Don’t tell me that you paid the Chowkidar, the old ................. Their ‘mamuls’ come under different count. The tax has to be paid separately”.

“The amount with Rajigadu. Wait, I’ll call him ... Rajigo.... Rajigo... Rajigo...”

“..................”

“Oh god! ... I am dead ...”

~*~

“But then well you twenty ordered to indigo imprisonment?”

“Only for four. They are here”.

“If you are released now will you live happily with your wives and children?” 

“My wife died. My sons wash dishes in the hotel in the town. The daughter is being looked after by her uncles”.

“Then what will you do?”

“It depends on killing the dora who neither made us live happily or sent us to the graveyard...” 

“What did the dora say?” 

“It is dora who is responsible for all ills. When the Pochampadu canal was to pan through his field, he got the canal route changed and submerged my field. He made me pay for his sheep and made me bankrupt. When we thought that if he was killed in the forest who will know... he took the opportunity and sold all the wood ... when he was caught he told the police that we killed the and got in thrown into the jail”.

“What has happened has happened. We have come here to help you. If you change your mind, we will see that the government will release you. The government will give you aome financial help. Then you can lead your life. Is it not so?”

“This government! It did not allow me to live my life. It being so, will the government help me? Never...”

“That is why we came. We came on behalf of the All India Humanities Association and Love to the Living up Association. We will see you are helped. We will show you rehabilitation”.

“If that is so, first get the mistake committed by the government corrected .... Let me be given back my one acre land. Bring my wife back to life.... Get my sons educated like your sons. Let my son get good jobs like your sons who one educated... Then let us talk about the help the government wants to give me”.

“No one can take time back. No god can turn back time. No, he cannot. Ask for some other help”. 

“What great things did I ask? I asked back my life. What help can you give me when you cannot give what I asked for? With what idea did you come to me? Why did you come at all?”

“When we came to help you in you difficulties feeling pity on you, you are indulging in tall talk... It looks as though there is no limit to your desires...”

“What did I ask you...? You are talking of pity... what mistake did I commit? What do you talk... The shepherds’ tribe was not born today... the sheep were not born today. These have been shepherds even before Lord Sri Krishna was born. There were sheep also... No one allowed their sheep in their houses from times immemorial. Every one made the sheep graze int eh forests. We worship Lord Sri Krishna as God as he made his sheep graze in the forest. When I too did the same. I have been brought to this sad state ... If today you ask us not to allow the sheep to graze in the forest, which has been done from bygone times, where will they graze? If the government is so kind and generous hearted, it may ask people not to eat sheep meat and not to tend them. I have stopped tending sheep and have been tending buffaloes. You like sheep meat and late the shepherd! Does the government have any thought as to how he lives?” 

“You are stubborn. That is why you one here... who is teaching you all this?”

“Why should anyone teach me? Is it wrong to say that I want to lead my life as I like?”

“You are not wrong.... Do not get irritated....” 

Think it over again. What is past is past. Patiently consider the situation. If you come out, you can make a new life. We will come back again within a weak or fifteen. Discuss the matter without emotion. 

Emergency has gone. Indiramma lost her power. Janata Party formed the Government in centre. We once talking the campaign. There is an opportunity of your being released.

Critical Review of the above story by Dr. Kolahalam Ram Kishore

1. Introduction – What the Story Attempts:

B.S. Ramulu’s short story, “The Lesson Life Teaches” , is a searing dialogue-driven narrative about a poor shepherd named Erragolla Mallayya. The story moves between two time frames: his wrongful imprisonment for a murder he did not commit, and the earlier exploitations by a landlord (Dora), a tax collector, and the police. In the end, two activists visit him in jail, offering rehabilitation, but Mallayya rejects it, demanding the impossible: return his dead wife, his lost land, and his sons’ ruined futures. The story is not a comfortable read; it is a protest, an accusation, and a mirror held up to systemic cruelty.

2. Relevance of the Story:

The story’s greatest strength is its uncompromising relevance. It shows that poverty is not an accident of fate but a manufactured condition created by those who control land, law, money, and even language. The chain of oppressors is carefully layered: the landlord (Dora) who never appears on stage but pulls all strings; the government tax collector who demands money without receipts; the police who slap and tie up the poor without hearing them; and finally, even the well-meaning activists whose “pity” feels like condescension to Mallayya.

By naming real historical markers – the Pochampadu canal, the Emergency, Indiramma (Indira Gandhi), and the Janata Party government – the author anchors fiction in actual political history. This gives the story the weight of a documentary. However, the story’s single setting (mostly dialogue in jail or under a tree) and its relentless repetition of arguments can feel exhausting. Some readers may find that the author sacrifices narrative variety for political messaging. Yet that exhaustion may be exactly the point: the poor live this loop every day.

3. Characterisation:

Mallayya is not a heroic rebel. He begins as a broken, cynical man who calls himself “your slave” and asks for four months’ relief from taxes. But as pressure mounts – a slap, a threat to seize his sheep, abuse of his wife – his language transforms. He becomes bitterly sarcastic: “You eat in dora’s house and sleep in dora’s house. But educated as you are, can’t you ask him?” His final refusal of help is not stubbornness but cold logic: “First get my wife back to life… get my sons educated like your sons… Then let us talk about the help.” This makes him a tragic figure, but a dignified one. He knows that no rehabilitation can undo structural murder.

The Dora (landlord) is a masterful off-stage villain. He never speaks directly, yet his presence dominates every scene – he changes canal routes, keeps wages, bribes officials, frames shepherds. This technique shows that power often operates through absence and proxies. The tax collector and police are drawn as types, not individuals: they are cruel, impatient, and illiterate in empathy. This flattening is intentional; they represent systems, not personal flaws.

The activists are the story’s weakest characters. They arrive with grand association names (“All India Humanities Association” and “Love to the Living up Association”) but retreat too quickly when Mallayya questions them. In reality, activists might argue longer or offer concrete help. Here, they feel like straw figures set up to be defeated, which slightly weakens the story’s realism.

4. Values Portrayed in the Story:

The story does not preach values; it tests them. Traditional values are shown as hollow when power is unequal.

· Respect for authority:

Mallayya begins with deep respect (“I am your slave”). But authority betrays him repeatedly – the old dora’s promise is broken by the new dora; the receipt is never given; the police beat without reason. By the end, respect turns into defiance. The lesson: authority that does not protect does not deserve respect.

· Honesty and hard work:

Mallayya pays taxes even when cheated. He tends sheep without wages. But honesty never saves him.

The story quietly asks: what is the value of honesty in a dishonest system?

· Compassion and pity:

The activists offer “pity.” Mallayya rejects it brilliantly: “What did I ask you? You are talking of pity… what mistake did I commit?” The story distinguishes between pity (which looks down) and justice (which restores). Since justice is impossible (you cannot bring back the dead), pity becomes an insult.

· Family and tradition:

Mallayya’s wife died; his sons wash dishes in a hotel. The family bond is destroyed not by choice but by poverty. The tradition of shepherding – going back to Lord Sri Krishna – is invoked as a sacred, timeless practice. But the government taxes that tradition out of existence. The story mourns the death of a way of life, not just a man.

The story ultimately rejects sentimental morality. It says...before asking a poor man to be good, ask why the system is so evil.

5. Literary Style and Technique:

The narrative is almost entirely dialogue. This gives it a raw, documentary, even play-like quality. There is very little description of place or inner thought. This is a strength because it immerses the reader in the verbal brutality of power. Every slap, every threat, every plea happens in spoken words.

Repetition is used effectively. Mallayya repeats: “I am your slave” and “you eat in dora’s house” – these refrains hammer the theme of feudal exploitation disguised as government work. The title itself, “The Lesson Life Teaches,” is deeply ironic. What lesson? That the poor cannot win. That even helpers cannot undo harm. The “lesson” is bitter...life teaches you to expect nothing from those in power.

Symbolism:

The sheep are not just animals. They have grazed in forests since Lord Krishna’s time. Taxing them is like taxing breathing. When Mallayya says, “If the government is so kind, it may ask people not to eat sheep meat” – he exposes the hypocrisy... society consumes the product but despises the producer.

6. Unbiased Critical Evaluation:

Strengths:

• Authentic, unfiltered rural voice and dialogue.
• Unflinching exposure of layered oppression (landlord, state, police, even NGOs).
• A haunting, memorable final refusal by the protagonist that stays with the reader.
• Political courage to name Emergency, Indira Gandhi, and specific parties.

Weaknesses:

• Overly didactic at times. Mallayya speaks like a trained social analyst – “The shepherds’ tribe was not born today… These have been shepherds even before Lord Sri Krishna was born.” An uneducated shepherd might feel this truth but not articulate it so perfectly.

The author puts his own analysis into Mallayya’s mouth.

• Lack of narrative variety. Constant back-and-forth arguing without scene breaks, description, or internal monologue becomes monotonous. The reader feels trapped – which is powerful for a few pages, but tiring for a longer story.
• The activists are weak characters. They are defeated too easily. Real activists would not leave saying, “We will come back in a week” after being logically dismantled. This makes the story’s ending feel slightly manufactured.
• The final note about political change (“Janata Party formed the government… opportunity of being released”) feels tacked on, not grown organically from the story’s emotional arc.

7. The Author’s Greatness:

B.S. Ramulu demonstrates rare courage in Indian English short fiction. He does not romanticize poverty. He does not turn his protagonist into a saint who forgives everyone. Instead, he shows that:

• Oppression is a system – not one bad person, but a chain of them.
• The poor see through hypocrisy immediately. Mallayya understands that the activist’s “pity” is a form of condescension dressed as help.
• Historical context matters. By naming Emergency, Pochampadu, Indiramma, and Janata Party, he refuses to write “timeless” fiction. He writes political fiction, rooted in real suffering.

His greatest gift is dialogue that stings. Lines like – “What did I ask you? … Bring my wife back to life. Get my sons educated like your sons” – are unforgettable. He achieves tragic dignity for a man whom society has thrown away. That is no small achievement.

His limitation is that he sometimes sacrifices art for argument. But for a story with a clear political conscience, that may be a deliberate, even honorable, choice. He writes like someone who has seen the lesson life teaches – and refuses to let us look away.

8. Conclusion:

“The Lesson Life Teaches” is not a story for readers seeking aesthetic beauty, subtle metaphors, or narrative elegance. It is raw, repetitive, angry, and at times didactic. But its honesty is brutal, and its central character, Erragolla Mallayya, stands as an accusation against every system – feudal, state, police, and even charitable – that claims to help the poor while robbing them of their land, family, and future. Mallayya’s final question echoes long after the story ends: “What help can you give me when you cannot give what I asked for?”

For that question alone, B.S. Ramulu deserves to be read, debated, and remembered. Final verdict: A powerful, flawed, necessary voice from the margins.