INDIAN UNPUNCTUALITY
On the railway. The unpunctual neighbour. Indians' opinions
concerning punctuality. Christianity only a partial cure.
Servants and punctuality. Indians' unpunctuality at meals.
Parable of the Marriage Feast. Patient waiting.
The inveterate unpunctuality of almost all Indians is a serious
obstacle to the progress of the country. Hours and days are wasted
through their failure to keep appointments, or to do work at the
proper time. The Indian takes long to understand, and never
appreciates, the Englishman's craze for punctuality. Because the
Englishman grumbles when the Indian is two hours late in keeping his
appointment, the latter thinks that it is only part of the former's
natural unreasonableness.
This Indian habit of unpunctuality would soon produce confusion and
disaster on the railway. For this reason English station-masters at
the principal stations, and English drivers and guards on most
passenger trains are, at present, a necessity. Subordinates, working
under English supervision, are obliged to hurry up. Parsees, who in
many ways display great business capacity, make reliable
engine-drivers. But they are themselves only settlers in India.
[Illustration: THE "KINDLY HINDU" NEIGHBOUR, HIS SONS AND
GRANDCHILDREN.]
It is difficult to get subordinate Indian railway officials to realise
that minutes are of importance. Express trains, especially on some of
the lines where the number of European officials is not great, are
frequently held up through the carelessness of native station-masters
at roadside stations. I remember an express having to wait more than
ten minutes near a wretched little country station in the early
morning, the driver whistling frantically before the slumbering
master, who was the only station official, could be roused to lower
the signal. When at last the train moved slowly past the station I saw
this Indian official in process of being withered up by the scorching
language of the English driver. But in spite of that, the probability
is that he soon repeated the offence. Such carelessness involves the
additional risk that it tempts drivers to run past signals, on the
assumption that the signalman is asleep or inattentive to his duty.
A kindly Hindu offered to drive me in his carriage to the cantonment
on some business matter. He suggested that we should start at seven
the next morning, and he was a little disappointed because I said that
I should not be free to start till 7.30. As the carriage had not
appeared at that hour the next morning, I sent over to my neighbour to
ask how soon he would be ready. He replied, "In a quarter of an
hour." He came over himself at 8.15 to say that there was a slight
delay, but that we should very soon be off. He sat talking till 8.45,
and then said he would go and expedite matters. He returned in about
half an hour, and asked whether after all it might not be better if we
went in the Mission _tonga_. But as that was not available, he said
that it was of no consequence, because his own carriage would be ready
almost directly. At about a quarter to ten I went over to see what our
prospects were, and he then said that he thought we had better put off
the expedition for that day, and make a really early start the next
morning. He gave strict orders to his servant that the carriage should
be ready without fail, and soon after 6 A.M. it actually appeared. But
even then we did not get off till nearly nine. And this is only one
instance of the delay and uncertainty and waste of time which occurs
daily, and many times a day, in some phase or other, and is a
necessary feature of all Indian affairs.
Talking to an intelligent young Hindu about this defect, I suggested
that it might be partly due to the scarcity of clocks, and that when
these became more numerous and better understood there might be some
improvement. The young man replied: "Clocks and watches will make no
difference; the defect is in the Indian nature."
"Then will this never be cured?" I asked.
"Probably never," he said.
"Never," I answered, "until Christianity teaches you the value of
time."
Another Indian, quite independently, expressed the same idea in almost
the same words. "Some of us have learnt to be punctual," he said, "in
our engagements with English people because we find that they expect
it of us. But we shall never be any different in this respect amongst
ourselves. We do not think it any drawback to be two or three hours
late."
Another Hindu, referring with approval to the punctuality and
regularity of the services in the church, said, "We also have our
fixed times for our observances. But the difference between us is that
you keep them, and we don't."
It must be confessed that Christianity is only partially successful in
curing the defect of unpunctuality. Both amongst priests and people,
unless there happens to be some Englishman at hand with precise ideas
about time, there is an extraordinary vagueness as to the hour for
service, especially in country districts. Service begins when a
sufficient number of people have arrived. The bell is very little
guide, because when it has been rung and nobody comes, it is rung
again. A few people turn up much too early. A few more arrive just as
service is over. The rest have straggled in at intervals. Neither
priest nor people are in any way troubled, or disturbed, or surprised
at each other's want of punctuality. Because, it should be added, that
even if the congregation has gathered at the proper time, it does not
follow as a matter of course that the Indian priest will be punctual.
Servants learn to serve meals at the appointed time when they have
once grasped the idea that this is required of them, and they do not
hesitate to politely rebuke an habitually punctual master if by chance
he is late. If the bell for Office at the Mission-house does not ring
precisely at the moment, one of the house-boys is sure quickly to
appear before whoever is responsible, and will say reproachfully,
"Time is finished." Or, if the response to the bell for meals is not
immediate, he will come and say sternly, "The bell has rung." But this
does not mean that they see the value of punctuality. They look upon
it as an English peculiarity which it is expedient to humour, and
which the Englishman ought to uphold, but it does not make them
punctual in their own social or business arrangements.
Even although most Indians look forward to meal-time with a good deal
of relish, they cause their womenkind much inconvenience by the
irregular way in which they come home to meals. Not only has the wife
the trouble of trying to keep the dinner hot and ready for an
indefinite time, but as she never eats until her husband has been fed,
she has to fast until he returns.
In the parable of the Marriage Feast and the Great Supper, we read of
servants going to tell the guests, who (it should be noticed) had
already been invited, that they were to come, "for all things are now
ready." This is what actually takes place in connection with most
Indian feasts. The invitation is for a certain hour. But the chance of
the meal being ready at that time is very remote. Hence it is usual to
tell the more distinguished guests, living within reach, that someone
will come and call them when everything is really ready. And the
summons is expressed almost in the exact words of the parable.
The few people who happen to arrive at the hour mentioned in their
invitation are not disturbed at having to wait for their meal for a
period which may extend even to hours. It is to be feared that English
guests invited to a dinner-party at seven, and having to wait till
nine-thirty before the dinner-bell rang, would not be in a very
agreeable frame of mind by the time they sat down to table.