Let me remind the reader how the author of the novel described Tenardieu and his wife: “These were those dwarf natures that easily grow into monsters if they are warmed up by an ominous flame. In the character of his wife was bestial rudeness, in the character of her husband – innate meanness. Both were highly gifted with that disgusting ability to develop, which grows only in the direction of evil. There are souls like crayfish. Instead of going forward, they continually move back toward the darkness and use life experience only to enhance their moral deformity, becoming more and more corrupt and more and more saturated with nasty. It was such a soul that the spouses Tenardieu had”.
For the stunningly exact resemblance of the character to the character, I myself began to call the new acquaintance “Tenardieu”. Also it was surprisingly similar to the real name of him. I am ready to vouch that Sergeant Tenardieu was just like that person in his youth.
Indian Tenardieu spent all his working time in a room with the air conditioning turned on, talked to girls on social networks, leaving for lunch and dinner. It was a slacker who at first wore a protective helmet on the object, like a fancy dress, but at the same time, he dealt exclusively with the fact that he spent all day running away from a construction supervisor with a helmet on his head. The poor supervisor chased him all over the construction site to give instructions. The young man was well able to run with obstacles, so the supervisor never caught up with him.
In his deep conviction, work was something shameful, unworthy of its origin. He said that in India there is a division into southern and northern Indians.
– I’m not a fool from the south of India to work and do what my boss says, – he once told me. – I am from the north of India, and I will not work, we are ashamed to work, we are not slaves.
– So you are from the highest caste? Why ashamed to work?
– No, I’m from the carpenter caste of khati. – But I’m from northern India. This is not a slave south. In general, I think that working is unworthy of a decent person.
– I do not agree with you. Thinking like yours, people in Europe were many centuries ago. This used to be the case in ancient times: it was a shame for the lord to work, slaves worked for him. Then there was a cultural leap, and for decent people, it became a common thing to work. Thanks to this mental and physical work, the technique via which we speak with you appeared, the airplanes we fly on, beautiful clothes and cosmetics that we use. Is it all created by slaves? No! This is all created by hardworking educated people.
Tenardieu told me a lot about his country and the people in it.
According to him, only representatives of the untouchable caste are engaged in hard work and dirty work in India, officially the term “untouchables” is not used – these castes are called “registered”, in English scheduled. If a person works, then he is one of the untouchables, wealth is good, therefore any means to get wealth is honest. Even deception and murder is okay. He also boasted to me that he himself possesses the art of hypnosis, which in their society is actively used along with reading mantras – magic spells. Many of his countrymen possess the art of hypnosis from birth. If a person has become your enemy, then you can send him a bad wish. What a funny medieval rule.
