fहndi - Mahatma Gandhi Antarrashtriya Hindi Vishwavidyalaya
fहndi - Mahatma Gandhi Antarrashtriya Hindi Vishwavidyalaya fहndi - Mahatma Gandhi Antarrashtriya Hindi Vishwavidyalaya
one could not remove even a brick fromthe rubble.People expected that the whole storywould reach Ghani's ears somehow orother. One look at the rubble and he wouldsurely read the story on his own.Ghani scratched the earth from therubble with his nails, poured it over himselfand hugged the door frame, crying, 'SpeakChiragh Deena, speak to me. Where haveyou gone?, Oh, Kishwar, Oh, Sultana, Oh,my children, why have you left Ghanibehind, Oh, Oh!'Slivers of wood raineddown from the crumbling doorway.Someone woke up Rakkha Pahalwansleeping under the peepal tree, or perhapshe woke up on his own. When he learntthat Abdul Ghani had come from Pakistanand was sitting on the debris of his house,phlegm rose from his throat that made himcough and he spat on the well's parapet.He looked at the pile of rubble and a growlrose from his chest as from a pair ofbellows. His lower lip flared out.'Ghani is sitting on his rubble,’Rakkha's henchman, Lachcha Pahalwantold him, sitting down by his side.'How does it belong to him? It's mine,’Rakkha said in a voice hoarse with phlegm.'But he is sitting there’ Lachcha saidin a meaningful voice.'Let him sit there for all I care. Youget me the pipe.' He spread out his legsand stroked his naked thighs.'If Manori tells him...' Lachcha said,fgndi •with the same meaningful look. He gotup to fetch the pipe.'Why would Manori invite trouble?'Lachcha went away.Dry peepal leaves lay scattered aroundthe well. Rakkha kept picking them upand crushing them between his palms.When Lachcha came back with the pipeand offered it to Rakha after putting thefilter cloth under it, Rakkha took a longpull at the pipe and said : 'Has anyoneelse been talking to Ghani?''No.’'Here,’ Coughing, he handed back thepipe to Lachcha.Lachcha saw Manori returning, holdingGhani by the arm. Squatting, Lachcha tooka quick, short pull at the pipe while hiseyes darted from Rakkha's face to Ghani'sin the distance.Now Manori was walking a step aheadof Ghani, holding his arm as though hewanted Ghani to walk past the well withoutnoticing Rakkha. But Rakkha was sittingwith his legs sprawled as if asking to betaken notice of. Ghani had seen him froma long way off. As he came near the wellhe spread out his arms, ‘Rakkha Pahalwan!’Raising his head, Rakkha narrowed hiseyes and gazed at Ghani. A lump seemedto form in his throat but he did not speak.'Rakkha Pahalwan, haven't yourecognized me?' Ghani lowered his arm.'I'm Ghani- Chiragh Din's father.'Pahalwan looked him over suspiciously,from head to foot. Abdul Ghani's eyes hadApril-June 2013 :: 89
ightened up on seeing Rakkha Pahalwanand under his white beard his wrinkles hadfanned out in joy. Rakkha's lower liptrembled and he said in a booming voice,'What news, Ghania?'Ghani was about to stretch out his armsagain but finding no response they fell oftheir own accord. Supporting himselfagainst the trunk of the tree he sat downon the parapet of the well.The whispers in the windows aboveintensified. Now that the two were facingeach other, things were sure to come toa head. They might even start abusing oneanother. Rakkha couldn't have his way withthe old man any more. Now the timeshad changed. Lord of the rubble indeed!What braggadacio! The rubble was neitherhis nor Ghani's. It was governmentproperty. And this fiend would not allowanyone even to tie a cow there.And Manori was a coward. Why didn'the tell Ghani that it was Rakkha who hadmurdered his family Chiragh Din, his wifeand children. Rakkha was not a man buta bull and like a bull he roamed aboutbellowing without hindrance. How thinand wizened poor Ghani looked, his headgone all white!Sitting down on the edge of the well,Ghani said, ‘Just see, Pahalwan, I left abustling home behind me and to say I havecome all this way to see this mud. That'sall that is left of a whole household.Honestly, Rakkha, I don't have the heartto tear myself away even from this heapof mud.’ Tears rose to his eyes.The wrestler folded his out-spread legs,picked up his shoulder cloth from the wallof the well and flung it on his shoulder.Lachcha held out the pipe to him and hetook long pulls at it.'Tell me, Rakkha, how did all thishappen?' Ghani said in an insistent tone,holding back his tears. ‘All of you werenear him. All of you loved one anotherlike brothers. If he wanted to, couldn't hehave taken shelter with one of you? Didn'the have that much sense?'It happened, that's all,' Rakkha said,his voice sounding unnaturally hollow evento himself.Thick saliva glued his lips. From underhis moustache sweat dripped on to his lips.A heavy weight seemed to press down onhis forehead and his spine asked forsupport.'How are things in Pakistan?' he askedin the same hollow voice. The veins inhis neck had become taut. He wiped thesweat under his armpits with his shouldercloth and sucking the thick saliva fromhis throat he spat it out in the lane.'What can I tell you, Rakkha?' Ghanipressed down on the knob of his walkingstick with both hands. 'If you ask howthings are with me, only God knows. Ifmy Chiragh had been with me it wouldhave been a different story, Rakkha. Howoften did I plead with him to leave andgo with me. But he was adamant. He saidhe couldn't go, leaving a newly constructed90 :: April-June 2013fgndi •
- Page 37 and 38: Imperialism. The imperialists had c
- Page 39 and 40: conventional reformers to evaluatet
- Page 41 and 42: expansion of knowledge emotions are
- Page 43 and 44: unprincipled propaganda takes place
- Page 45 and 46: drowning with shame or pride in it.
- Page 47 and 48: made criticism a pure literary subj
- Page 49 and 50: It is a great paradox that in an ag
- Page 51 and 52: how much they are mixing with it. M
- Page 53 and 54: peculiar way of protest against not
- Page 55 and 56: Radha Worship in Hindi LiteratureL.
- Page 57 and 58: valuable ornaments and clothes. His
- Page 59 and 60: literature in general and Hindi lit
- Page 61 and 62: Not only this the hunger which I go
- Page 63 and 64: 3. We the Janvadi PoetsWe are write
- Page 65 and 66: 5. A FarmerThis time paddy crophas
- Page 67 and 68: isolated, lonely and stained with p
- Page 69 and 70: 3. A COFFIN AND A BOTTLEIn this roo
- Page 71 and 72: The omnipresence of your super imag
- Page 73 and 74: As I look at the black and white pr
- Page 75 and 76: But when I touched the door of the
- Page 77 and 78: 7. LIFEThat day when I entereda mag
- 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: feet, on a brick path near the open
- 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 and 130: Ramrath and Bhagirathi's fate gave
- Page 131 and 132: than their son.That boy knew this m
- 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
ightened up on seeing Rakkha Pahalwanand under his white beard his wrinkles hadfanned out in joy. Rakkha's lower liptrembled and he said in a booming voice,'What news, Ghania?'Ghani was about to stretch out his armsagain but finding no response they fell oftheir own accord. Supporting himselfagainst the trunk of the tree he sat downon the parapet of the well.The whispers in the windows aboveintensified. Now that the two were facingeach other, things were sure to come toa head. They might even start abusing oneanother. Rakkha couldn't have his way withthe old man any more. Now the timeshad changed. Lord of the rubble indeed!What braggadacio! The rubble was neitherhis nor Ghani's. It was governmentproperty. And this fiend would not allowanyone even to tie a cow there.And Manori was a coward. Why didn'the tell Ghani that it was Rakkha who hadmurdered his family Chiragh Din, his wifeand children. Rakkha was not a man buta bull and like a bull he roamed aboutbellowing without hindrance. How thinand wizened poor Ghani looked, his headgone all white!Sitting down on the edge of the well,Ghani said, ‘Just see, Pahalwan, I left abustling home behind me and to say I havecome all this way to see this mud. That'sall that is left of a whole household.Honestly, Rakkha, I don't have the heartto tear myself away even from this heapof mud.’ Tears rose to his eyes.The wrestler folded his out-spread legs,picked up his shoulder cloth from the wallof the well and flung it on his shoulder.Lachcha held out the pipe to him and hetook long pulls at it.'Tell me, Rakkha, how did all thishappen?' Ghani said in an insistent tone,holding back his tears. ‘All of you werenear him. All of you loved one anotherlike brothers. If he wanted to, couldn't hehave taken shelter with one of you? Didn'the have that much sense?'It happened, that's all,' Rakkha said,his voice sounding unnaturally hollow evento himself.Thick saliva glued his lips. From underhis moustache sweat dripped on to his lips.A heavy weight seemed to press down onhis forehead and his spine asked forsupport.'How are things in Pakistan?' he askedin the same hollow voice. The veins inhis neck had become taut. He wiped thesweat under his armpits with his shouldercloth and sucking the thick saliva fromhis throat he spat it out in the lane.'What can I tell you, Rakkha?' Ghanipressed down on the knob of his walkingstick with both hands. 'If you ask howthings are with me, only God knows. Ifmy Chiragh had been with me it wouldhave been a different story, Rakkha. Howoften did I plead with him to leave andgo with me. But he was adamant. He saidhe couldn't go, leaving a newly constructed90 :: April-June 2013fgndi •
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