A Wrong Man in Workers’

Paradise(1)The man had never believed in mere utility.

(2) (Having had no useful work, he indulged in mad whims). He made little pieces of sculpture—men, women and castle, quaint earthen things dotted over with sea-shells. He painted. Thus he wasted his time on all that was useless, needless. People laughed at him. At times he vowed to shake off his whims, but they lingered in his mind.

(3) Some boys seldom ply their books and yet pass their tests. A similar thing happened to this man. He spent his earth life in useless work and yet after his death the gates of Heaven opened wide for him.

(4) But mistakes are unavoidable even in Heaven. (So it came to pass that the aerial messenger who took charge of the man made a mistake and found him a place in Workers’ Paradise).

(5) In this Paradise you find everything except leisure.

(6) (Here men say: “God! We haven’t a moment to spare.” Women whisper: “Let’s move on, time’s a-flying).” All exclaim: “Time is precious.” “We have our hands full, we make use of every single minute,” they sigh complainingly, and yet those words make them happy and exalted.

(7) But this newcomer, who had passed all his life on Earth without doing (a scrap of) useful work, did not fit in with the scheme of things in Workers’ Paradise. He lounged in the streets absently and jostled the hurrying men. He lay down in green meadows, or close to the fast flowing streams, and was taken to task by busy farmers. He was always in the way of others.

(8) A hustling girl went every day to a silent torrent (silent, since in the Workers’ Paradise even a torrent would not waste its energy singing) to fill her pitcher.

(9) (The girl’s movement on the road was like the rapid movement of a skilled hand on the strings of a guitar). Her hair was carelessly done; inquisitive wisps stooped often over her forehead to peer at the dark wonder of her eye.

(10) The idler was standing by the stream. (As a princess sees a lonely beggar and is filled with pity, so the busy girl of Heaven saw this one and was filled with pity.)

(11 ) “A—ha !” she cried with concern. “You have no work in hand, have you?”

(12) The man sighed, “Work! I have not a moment to spare for work.”

(13) The girl did not understand his words, and said: “I shall spare some work for you to do, if you like.”

(14) The man replied: “Girl of the silent torrent, all this time I have been waiting to take some work from your hands.”

(15) “What kind of work would you like?”

(16) “Will you give me one of your pitchers, one that you can spare?”

(17) She asked: “A pitcher? You want to draw water from the torrent?”

(18) “No, I shall draw pictures on your pitcher.”

(19) The girl was annoyed.

(20) “Pictures, indeed! I have no time to waste on such as you. I am going.” And she walked away.

(21) But how could a busy person (get the better of) one who had nothing to do? Every day they met, and every day he said to her: “Girl of the silent torrent, give me one of your clay pitchers. I shall draw pictures on it.”

(22) She yielded at last. She gave him one of her pitchers. The man started painting. He drew line after line; he put color after color.

(23) When he had completed his work, the girl held up the pitcher and stared at its sides, her eyes puzzled. Brows drawn, she asked: “What do they mean, all those lines and colors? What is their purpose?”

(24) The man laughed.

(25) “Nothing. A picture may have no meaning and may serve no purpose.”

(26) The girl went away with her pitcher. At home, away from prying eyes, she held it in the light, turned it round and round and scanned the painting from all angles. At night she moved out of bed, lighted a lamp and scanned it again in silence. For the first time in her life she had seen something that had no meaning and no purpose at all.

(27) When she set out for the torrent the next day, her hurrying feet were a little less hurried than before. For a new sense seemed to have wakened in her, a sense that seemed to have no meaning and no purpose at all.

(28) She saw the painter standing by the torrent and asked in confusion: “What do you want of me?”

(29) “Only some more work from your hands.”

(30) “What kind of work would you like?”

(31) “Let me make a colored ribbon for your hair,” he answered.

(32) “And what for?”

(33) “Nothing.”

(34) Ribbons were made, bright with colors. The busy girl of Workers’ Paradise had now to spend a lot of time every day tying the colored ribbon around her hair. The minutes slipped by, unutilized. Much work was left unfinished.

(35) In Workers’ Paradise work had of late begun to suffer. Many persons who had been active before were now idle, wasting their precious time on useless things such as painting and sculpture. The elders became anxious. A meeting was called. All agreed that such a state of affairs had so far been unknown in the history of Workers’ Paradise.

(36) The aerial messenger hurried in, bowing before the elders and made a confession.

(37) “I brought a wrong man into this Paradise,” he said. “It is all due to him.”

(38) The man was summoned. As he came the elders saw his fantastic dress, his (quaint) brushes, his paints, and they knew at once that he was not the right sort for Workers’ Paradise.

(39) Stiffly the President said: “This is no place for the like of you. You must leave.”

(40) The man sighed in relief and gathered up his brush and paint. But as he was about to go, the girl of the silent torrent came up tripping and cried: “Wait a moment. I shall go with you.”

(41) The elders gasped in surprise. Never before had a thing like this happened in Workers’ Paradise—a thing that had no meaning and no purpose at all.

What do you think is the main point of the story?