If ‘Untouchable’ shows a lyrical excellence in exploring the power of caste cruelty on the adolescent mind of Bakha, and and if ‘Coolie’ assumes an epic status by tracing Munoo's momentous wanderings across vast spaces of Northern and Western India, then ‘Two Leaves and a Bud’ may be said to be fundamentally a dramatic novel that deals with a disastrous clash of interests and destinies between Indian coolics and British managers of a tea estate in Assam during the 1930s.
The title of this tome is derived from the song sung by the coolies while plucking tea leaves on the Macpherson Tea Estate:
I will make a good sheaf
Plucking, plucking, plucking
Two leaves and a bud
Two leaves and a bud…
The song suggests the systematic plucking of tea leaves by the happy conlies in an Arcadian landscape. There is a lilt in it, a swing.
Gangu, the coolie-hero, likes it when his wife, Sajani, picks it up and sings it with his daughter, Leila. But it splits his heart when he hears the coolies singing it after his wife's death. Gangu's 14-year-old daughter, Leila, sings it while picking tea leaves under the supervision of the brutish Sardar Neogi.
But the tedium and the flatness of the job has drowned in habit that Elysian picture which the first sight of women plucking had engraved on her.
The sun above chars her body like a fire and she sweats profusely as she bends over the stalks with the basket on her back.
In fact, the happy title of the novel paradoxically throws into relief the unhappy lot of the Indian coolies from whose song it has been derived. For the Indian coolics like Narayan and Gangu are not satisfied inhabitants of a lost Arcadia but convicts of an indissoluble jail into which they are first trapped by false promises of high wages and cheerful prospects and then forced to work hard for a trifle under the supervision of the hard-headed and hard-hearted British managers like Croft-Cooke and Reggie Hunt.
They are made to live in dusky and stained rooms in the unhealthy surroundings of the coolie lines where the epidemics of cholera and malaria break out quite frequently. They are subjugated and flogged not only by the British managers but also by the Indian clerks, mistris, sardars and chawkidars, but they are not given any plots or loans unless they allow their wives and daughters to become the mistresses of the lustful British managers.
To cap it all, they are kept well-guarded and not allowed to return to their homes even after the termination of the time of their contract. Consequently, they become resigned to their sad lot in life.
The old coolie Narain tells the recently recruited Gangu that he was brought to the tea estate as a coolie by an agent from the famine-stricken state of Bikaner on a contract for three years but was not allowed to go back at the end of that period of time, that he has been working hard on the tea estate since his recruitment but has not been given any plot of land in terms of the contract, that the assistant manager, Reggie Hunt, not only beats up the coolies hardheartedly but also abuses their wives and daughters without any reservations, and that the coolies are compelled to submit to suffering of every sort like offenders condemned to a stake as there is no way out for them.
The newcomer Gangu prepares himself to face anguishes of all sorts as an indentured coolie on the tea estate, but his lot turns out to be much more horrible than he apprehends. For he has to sweat his guts out by working for half a rupee a day under the supervision of the brutish Reggie Hunt.
His wife dies of malaria soon after his arrival in Assam. He and his fellow-coolies are brutalized by Reggie Hunt for intervening in the quarrel between his two mistresses, Chambeli and Neogi's wife. Their peaceful demonstration against his cruelty is suppressed by Croft-Cooke with the help of the armed forces, and he is wantonly shot dead by Reggie Hunt for coming in his way while he is trying to rape his fourteen-year-old daughter, Leila.
The Marxist British doctor, John de la Havre, is very deeply conscious of the brutal exploitation and tries to improve their lot not only by making plans for supplying clean drinking water and sanitary fittings to their huts but also by prompting them to resist. But Croft-Cooke discourages him from doing so by saying that the Indian coolies are bestial creatures fit only to be used as creatures of burden.
He also says that the Indian coolies are better off as bonded slaves on the tea estate than they are as farmhands in their villages. He in conclusion says that all the British managers of the tea estates must keep the Indian coolies at an arm's length as they may be incited by the nationalists to overthrow a beneficent and progressive British Government.
The other British managers of the tea estates in Assam are as self-centered and arrogant as Croft-Cooke is, but John de la Havre is different from them. He wants them to treat the Indian coolies as human beings like themselves, but it pains him to see them living a life of luxury at the expense of the Indian coolies.
He says wryly: "The contents of a cup of tea are the hunger, the sweat and the despair of a million Indians. He asks himself angrily : "But why didn't it occur to anyone-the simple, obvious thing that people don't need to read Marx to realize here? The black coolies clear the forests, plant the fields, toil and garner the harvest, while all the money-grabbing, slave-driving, soulless managers and directors draw their salaries and dividends and build up monopolies."
But he is dismissed from service by Croft-Cooke for inciting the Indian coolies to rise in revolt against the cruelty of Reggie Hunt, though he has been in love with Croft-Cooke's daughter, Barbara.
He leaves the tea estate a disappointed man and the exploitation of the Indian coolies continues unabated after his departure.
This novel has a unified and well-developed structure. It opens with Gangu's arrival at the tea-estate, with the thought "Life is like a journey" in his mind; at the end, Gangu's journey is finally over.
In between we are privy to an exciting narrative, rich in incident and dramatic values.
In spite of its wealth of character and episode, the novel maintains its unity, as every detail is woven round the central theme of Gangu's exploitation.
Another exceptional feature is the permutation of poetry and irony which runs through the whole novel. In this novel too, like Anand’s earlier novel, the artist is ultimately seen to have been overborne by the reformer.