Why this book

Premchand wrote this in 1932, as India stirred against empire. He turned the novel into a weapon for the voiceless — the untouchable, the tenant farmer, the abandoned wife — asking whether religion should divide people or lift them.

The Story

In the holy city of Banaras lived Lala Samarkant, a jeweler who worshipped money above all gods. His son, Amarkanth, was his opposite — a restless young idealist who saw the family's wealth as stolen from the poor. Therefore father and son quarreled endlessly.

Samarkant wanted Amar to study law and grow the fortune. But Amar burned to serve his country, not to hoard gold. He married Sukhda, a proud, penniless girl, believing she would share his hunger for sacrifice.

Yet Sukhda proved the practical one. She had grown up in want and craved security, jewels, and a settled home. Therefore Amar's talk of poverty and service struck her as foolish male vanity, and the marriage cooled.

Restless, Amar wandered the poor quarters of the city. There he met Sakina, a beautiful, destitute Muslim girl, and her ailing family. He helped them with money and kindness — but the gossip of the neighborhood soon poisoned his name.

Sukhda heard the whispers and felt betrayed. But rather than beg, she withdrew into cold pride. Amar, ashamed and suffocating in his father's house of gold, made a reckless choice: he would leave everything.

Therefore one night Amar abandoned the city, his wife, and his newborn son. He fled to a distant village of peasants and untouchables, seeking a life of pure service — the field of action he had always dreamed of.

Remember who he is: Amarkanth, the rich man's son, now barefoot among strangers, wanting only to lift the lowest. In the village he found people crushed by two masters — the landlord's rent and the priest's contempt.

Yet Amar was no flawless saint. He doubted himself, missed his son, and wondered if he had merely run from duty rather than toward it. But each dawn among the peasants renewed his faith that this hard road was right.

The untouchables were forbidden to enter the temple or draw from the common well. Amar was outraged. Therefore he began teaching their children, sharing their food, and urging them to claim their dignity as equals before God.

The upper-caste villagers resisted furiously. But Amar led the untouchables to the temple gates and demanded they be let in. The confrontation split the village — and word of the young reformer spread across the district.

The temple doors did not open easily. But Amar would not let the untouchables be shamed back into the shadows. Therefore he stood with them day after day, until even the orthodox began to question the cruelty of their own tradition.

Meanwhile the peasants groaned under crushing rents. When the landlords moved to raise them yet again, Amar helped the farmers organize. Therefore he called them to a satyagraha — a refusal to pay, without a single act of violence.

Back in Banaras, the abandoned Sukhda astonished everyone. Stung into strength, she stepped out of the household and into public life. But her cause was the very fight her husband waged in the fields — justice for the poor.

The city government began evicting slum-dwellers from their homes to please the rich. Sukhda rose to lead them. Therefore the timid wife became a fearless organizer, rallying thousands of women and laborers against the demolitions.

Sukhda marched to the officials themselves and refused to be silenced. When they threatened her with arrest, she offered them her wrists. Therefore the crowd saw that a woman's courage could shame an empire, and their fear dissolved.

Old Samarkant watched his daughter-in-law shame the whole family into conscience. Slowly the miser's heart cracked open. But it was his gentle daughter, Naina, married into a spendthrift household, who suffered most quietly.

Sukhda's movement grew until the authorities feared her more than any man. She opened her father-in-law's coffers to shelter the evicted. Therefore Samarkant, once the worshipper of money, began giving his fortune away.

Amar's old friend Salim had risen to magistrate in the government's service. He believed in order and law. But watching the poor beaten for demanding bread, his conscience began to war against his uniform.

In the village, the peasant satyagraha swelled into a mass revolt of empty hands. The government answered with arrests, then with soldiers. But the farmers, taught by Amar, refused to strike back or to flee.

The landlords, terrified of losing their grip, pressed the government to crush the revolt. But every arrest only swelled the peasants' ranks, for Amar had taught them that suffering borne without hatred is a weapon sharper than any sword.

As for Sakina, the girl whose kindness had cost Amar his home — she and her family were swept into the rising movement of the poor. Therefore what began as scandal became solidarity, Hindu and Muslim standing side by side.

So two struggles now burned at once: Amar's peasants against the landlords in the countryside, and Sukhda's poor against the demolitions in the city — husband and wife, unknowing, fighting the same war.

The pressure broke at a great gathering where the peasants stood before the rifles. The officials ordered the crowd to disperse. But the people knelt and held their ground, unarmed and unmoved.

Therefore the soldiers opened fire. Men fell in the dust of the field. And into that gunfire ran Naina, Amar's tender sister, shielding a child — until a bullet found her, and she died a martyr for the cause.

Naina's death shattered the town's silence. Salim the magistrate could bear it no longer. Therefore he tore off his authority, resigning rather than command one more shot fired at his own suffering people.

The martyrdom turned the tide. But the true victory lay not in law — it lay in the awakening of thousands who had learned they need not kneel to injustice. The rulers found they could no longer govern by fear alone.

Amar, worn and humbled, returned at last from the fields. He found his wife not the timid girl he had left, but a leader greater than himself. Therefore the two met again as equals, their pride burned away by shared sacrifice.

The untouchables walked freely into the temple. The evicted kept their homes. And old Samarkant, emptied of his gold but full of peace, blessed the very cause he had once cursed. Therefore the broken family was made whole by service.

What it means

Some peasants wanted to fight back with fists and fire. But Amar pleaded that violence would make them no better than their oppressors. Therefore they chose the harder path — to stand and be struck, and let the world witness who was truly cruel.

Here is Premchand's great cry: the earth is our karmabhoomi — our field of action. Heaven is not bought with ritual or gold. We are redeemed only by what we do for one another: the outcast lifted, the tenant freed, the woman risen. Duty is the truest worship.

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