fहndi - Mahatma Gandhi Antarrashtriya Hindi Vishwavidyalaya
fहndi - Mahatma Gandhi Antarrashtriya Hindi Vishwavidyalaya fहndi - Mahatma Gandhi Antarrashtriya Hindi Vishwavidyalaya
to see her, if that group of boys didn'treturn this way Bhagirathi might lose herbalance of mind at this old age.While sitting in the shop her eyeswould be fixed in the direction by whichthey were supposed to be returning; andshe would ask again and again when wouldthey return? Ramrath would be irritated,"How do I know when would they come?"Bhagirathi was flabbergasted still shewould once again start looking withdoubled enthusiasm, but by evening shewould be disheartened. Now it was gettingvery cold, the higher peaks of the mountainwere covered with snow and Ramrathwould have liked to close the shop early.Otherwise also there were hardly anycustomers in the evening, but Bhagirathiwould not allow him to close. Facing thearrows of biting chilly winds she wouldcontinue sitting near the open hearthwiping her nose.One day her penance bore fruit. Thatstudents’ group returned to have tea at hisshop. Ramrath saw them coming from adistance. He had recognized his Sarjuamidst that group of ten or twelve boyseven from a distance. But he kept quietas he wanted to get confirmation of hisbelief from Bhagirathi. The boys camenearer and he looked at Bhagirathisideways. She was staring at the foreignstudent steadily."Baba, give us tea, didn't we tell youwe will come back," the Indian studenttook off his gloves and stood near theburning hearth enjoying the warmth of thefgndi •fire. "Sarju" as the whispering voice ofBhagirathi reached that boy he lookedtowards her."Amma, what are you saying?" thatIndian boy was rather talkative."Nothing, son nothing, she is old andkeeps on babbling," before Bhagirathi couldsay anything Ramrath spoke.Bhagirathi acted as if she didn't hearanything and kept on staring at Sarju, 'thesame features, the same mole at the chinand the same habit of smiling by slightlyslanting his mouth.' Bhagirathi felt thatshe would go mad, tears started rollingdown her eyes."Amma, aren't you feeling well?"Looking at Bhagirathi's condition theIndian student asked.Bhagirathi looked up as if she hadsuddenly woken up from sleep."No son, I am ok," and looked at Sarjuwho was standing in front of her. Shethought 'where he is now and where theyare. True they had brought him up forthree years only, but how the other parentsare bringing him up. Could they have givenhim such fair, healthy and blooming life?No, never. If he had been with them hewould have probably been sitting in thisshop only.Bhagirathi looked at the boy and askedthe other boy, "Son, do ask him wherehe has come from and what his parentsdo?" What went between two of themneither Ramrath nor Bhagirathi couldunderstand, but whatever was told themit confirmed Bhagirathi and Ramrath'sbelief that this foreign student was no otherApril-June 2013 :: 131
than their son.That boy knew this much that he wasnot the biological son of his parents andthey had adopted him from India'sMumbai, otherwise he knew nothing abouthis biological parents. His father is a bigbusinessman in the Netherlands; he visitsIndia quite often in connection with hisbusiness. This boy often visited India withhis father but had come to this area forthe first time.As Bhagirathi stepped forward feargripped Ramrath's heart, God only knowswhat she is going to do. He wanted tostop her but his voice failed him.Bhagirathi came and stood near the boyand put her trembling hand on his head.Once again tears streamed down herwrinkled cheeks, her eyes got blurred withtears which she wiped immediately so thatshe could see her Sarju properly. All theyoung boys with him were amazed andworried at her behaviour."Come again son," Bhagirathi said ina trembling voice, hearing this Ramrathheaved a sigh of relief. That Indian studentagain played the role of translator, "SureI will come," saying this that young boywaved and running and jumping on themeandering road disappeared before hereyes. Bhagirathi was standing like a statueand kept on staring in the direction.Once again their life started on theold pattern but definitely a difference camein Bhagirathi's life. Now daily she startedsitting at the tea shop with her husband.After all her son had promised to comeagain.Nishank : Ramesh Pokhariyal writes under the pen name Nishank. Former chief ministerof Uttarakhand, Nishank is a prolific poet and fiction writer with published volumes like—Pallavi, Pahad se Ooncha, Beera and Shaktiroopa (novels) and Sangharsh Jari Hai, Pratikshaetc. (collection of poems). He has published five collections of short stories. He lives inDehradun.132 :: April-June 2013fgndi •
- Page 79 and 80: 2. TEA WITH DONNEGood Morning, dear
- Page 81 and 82: 4. HI, KRISHNA!Hi, Krishna!What’r
- Page 83 and 84: Malbe Ka MalikMohan RakeshJai Ratan
- Page 85 and 86: 'Everything else has changed but no
- Page 87 and 88: feet, on a brick path near the open
- Page 89 and 90: ightened up on seeing Rakkha Pahalw
- Page 91 and 92: 'So what happened?''Nothing happene
- Page 93 and 94: Mad DelightMohan Rakesh was as much
- Page 95 and 96: In continuous rhythmic movements, h
- Page 97 and 98: is the silence within . . . silence
- Page 99 and 100: ehind. The man remains alone once a
- Page 101 and 102: stretching road ahead."And how much
- Page 103 and 104: the car."Tell me what do you want?"
- Page 105 and 106: "Was it necessary today itself ?" f
- Page 107 and 108: laughed father “not a morsel to e
- Page 109 and 110: Rites for The DepartedChandrakantaR
- Page 111 and 112: gazing at the swiveling waves of th
- Page 113 and 114: salutations to the Ganga : 'These p
- Page 115 and 116: He won his mukti in that instant of
- Page 117 and 118: a rush for a plank she suddenly see
- Page 119 and 120: The Voice Which was Progeny...Tarun
- Page 121 and 122: growl, blare and shouts had compell
- Page 123 and 124: Broken bamboos and thatches strewed
- Page 125 and 126: forest and open land. The man and w
- Page 127 and 128: "But I have already taken the money
- Page 129: Ramrath and Bhagirathi's fate gave
- Page 133 and 134: of power of the original to be tran
- Page 135 and 136: the time. "That raises a question i
- Page 137 and 138: The novelist was translating her ow
- Page 139 and 140: 13th paragraph, Arundhati used the
- Page 141 and 142: Referencesi. 'Arundhati Roy, transl
- Page 143 and 144: translation of literature in Englis
- Page 145 and 146: Sons published it under its Traditi
- Page 147 and 148: here that he forgot to smile.'"Afte
- Page 149 and 150: are the opulence of royalty, strugg
- Page 151 and 152: wide web (www) which has created ap
- Page 153 and 154: in it move beyond Cultural Studies
- Page 155 and 156: Prize. Wasn't it in the early years
- Page 157 and 158: deep insight into the life and work
- Page 159: 25. Ms. Kanan Jhingan, 48, Swastik
than their son.That boy knew this much that he wasnot the biological son of his parents andthey had adopted him from India'sMumbai, otherwise he knew nothing abouthis biological parents. His father is a bigbusinessman in the Netherlands; he visitsIndia quite often in connection with hisbusiness. This boy often visited India withhis father but had come to this area forthe first time.As Bhagirathi stepped forward feargripped Ramrath's heart, God only knowswhat she is going to do. He wanted tostop her but his voice failed him.Bhagirathi came and stood near the boyand put her trembling hand on his head.Once again tears streamed down herwrinkled cheeks, her eyes got blurred withtears which she wiped immediately so thatshe could see her Sarju properly. All theyoung boys with him were amazed andworried at her behaviour."Come again son," Bhagirathi said ina trembling voice, hearing this Ramrathheaved a sigh of relief. That Indian studentagain played the role of translator, "SureI will come," saying this that young boywaved and running and jumping on themeandering road disappeared before hereyes. Bhagirathi was standing like a statueand kept on staring in the direction.Once again their life started on theold pattern but definitely a difference camein Bhagirathi's life. Now daily she startedsitting at the tea shop with her husband.After all her son had promised to comeagain.Nishank : Ramesh Pokhariyal writes under the pen name Nishank. Former chief ministerof Uttarakhand, Nishank is a prolific poet and fiction writer with published volumes like—Pallavi, Pahad se Ooncha, Beera and Shaktiroopa (novels) and Sangharsh Jari Hai, Pratikshaetc. (collection of poems). He has published five collections of short stories. He lives inDehradun.132 :: April-June 2013fgndi •
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