house behind. He said this was his ownlocality, his own lane, and there wasnothing to be afraid of. It did not occurto that innocent pigeon that even if hisown lane was safe, danger could stalk itfrom outside. Four people laid down theirlives to protect one house! Rakkha, he hadgreat faith in you. He used to say thatas long as Rakkha was around, no onecould do him any harm. But when deathstalked him even his Rakkha could notstop it.'Rakkha tried to straighten up becausehis spine was now beginning to hurt him.He was feeling a great stress in his groin.Something seemed to be bottling up hisbreath in his entrails. His entire body wasdrenched in perspiration and the soles ofhis feet tingled. Every few minutes sparklersseemed to rain down on him from aboveand float past his eyes. The distancebetween his lips and his tongue seemedto be increasing. He wiped the corners ofhis lips with his shoulder cloth and thewords, 'Oh God, the True One, Only youexist, only you, only you,’ escaped his lips.Ghani saw that the wrestler's lips hadgone dry and the circles under his eyeshad deepened. He put his hand on hisshoulders. 'Rakkha, don't take it to heartnow. What had to happen happened. Thedead cannot come back to life. May Godstand by the virtuous and forgive all sinners!If my Chiragh is no longer here, at leastall of you are still here. I am comfortedthat someone of the days gone by is stillfgndi •living. Having seen you I have seenChiragh. May Allah keep all of you healthy.May you live long and see great happiness!'Leaning on his walking stick, Ghani roseto his feet. Walking away, he said, 'Rakkha,keep me in your memory!'A feeble sound of assent rose fromRakkha's throat. Holding his shoulder clothbetween his hands, he folded his handsin salutation. Lookingl round the lanewistfully, Ghani slowly walked away.The whispering in the windowscontinued for a while. Once out of thelane Manori would surely divulgeeverything to Ghani. How Rakkha's throatwent dry in Ghani's presence! Lost faceas he had, how could he now preventpeople from tying their cattle at the rubble?Poor Zubeida! What a good woman shewas. How soft spoken with everyone! Andhere was this friend, Rakkha with neitherhome nor hearth to call his own. Howcould he have any feelings for mothers orsisters?After a while the women startedcoming out into the lane and the childrenresumed their game of gulli-danda. Twoteenage girls started squabbling and thenfell upon each other.Rakkha sat long into the evening bythe well, coughing and dragging at thepipe. Numerous passers-by asked him,'Rakkha Shah, we hear Ghani Khan hadcome from Pakistan today?''Yes, he came,’ Rakkha had the samereply for everyone.April-June 2013 :: 91
'So what happened?''Nothing happened. He went away.’As night approached, Rakkha, as usual,came out of the lane and sat down onthe front plank of the corner shop. Everynight he would accost the passers-by andgive them tips about the local stockexchange or the secrets of good health andnostrums which served as short-cutremedies for various chronic diseases. Butthat night he narrated to Lachcha the storyof a pilgrimage to Vaishnav Devi he hadmade fifteen years ago. After parting fromLachcha as he entered the lane he saw LokuPandit's buffalo tied on the rubble plot.As he did daily, he began to drive it awaytut,tut! After driving it away he sat downon the door frame for a short breather.The lane was deserted and since there wereno street lights it grew dark in the evening.At the edge of the rubble heap there wasa drain in which scummy water flowed,gurgling as it went. A medley of soundsrising from the rubble merged into thestillness of the night... chic... chic... chic...chir... chir... r.. ri... ri... ri,.A crow appeared from nowhere andsat down on the door frame, scatteringwood scantlings when it flapped its wings.A dog which was sleeping in a corner wokeup and started barking at the crow. Thecrow sat there, undecided whether to stayor fly away and ultimately flew awayflapping its wings and perched on thebranch of the peepal tree near the well.After the crow had flown away, the dogadvanced a few steps and resumed itsbarking facing the wrestler. The wrestlertried to shoo the dog away in a lazy,ponderous voice 'Get away, dum, dum,dum.' "Wow, wow, wow, wow!' "Get away!...Get away! ...dur ...dur ...dur...' But thedog drew nearer and continued to bark.The wrestler picked up a clod of earth andthrew it at the dog. The dog retreated astep or two but did not stop barking. Thewrestler abused the dog and then slowlyrose from the door frame and walking upto the well again, lay down on the parapet.After the wrestler moved away, the dogentered the lane and facing the well, againstarted barking. It kept barking till it sawthat nothing and no one was stirring inthe lane. Flapping its ears, it returned tothe rubble heap, where it lay down in acorner and set up a low, continuous growl.Mohan Rakesh, (1925-1972) was a prominent author and champion of the Nayi KahaniMovement in <strong>Hindi</strong>. He was an equally important playwright with memorable plays like'ashadh ka ek din' 'lehron ke rajhans' and 'adhe adhure'. He taught <strong>Hindi</strong> in several collegesbefore joining as editor of the literary magazine 'Sarika’ from Times of India, Mumbai. Someof his famous books are 'andhere band kamre", 'na ane wala kal', 'ek aur zindagi', 'faulad92 :: April-June 2013fgndi •
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A Journal ofMahatma GandhiAntarrash
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LANGUAGEArundhati Roy in Indian Lan
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all is not well with the world. Ult
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After tallying the anubhavas mentio
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sustenance. If it fights shy of phi
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progression from Shringararasabhasa
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glamour and fame, I always looked a
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grandmother. Scolded for stealing t
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of his episodes and characters from
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The short story Najum (astrology) b
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India, Indianness and BuddhaDev Bos
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Buddha Dev Bose's writings on Tagor
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development of the idea of a worldl
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defies the set patterns of known li
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The Concerns of CriticismShambhunat
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On the basis of feudal thinking the
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etween the interests of different s
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silent about Hazari Prasad Diwedi.
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Imperialism. The imperialists had c
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Referencesi. 'Arundhati Roy, transl
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translation of literature in Englis
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Sons published it under its Traditi
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here that he forgot to smile.'"Afte
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are the opulence of royalty, strugg
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wide web (www) which has created ap
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in it move beyond Cultural Studies
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Prize. Wasn't it in the early years
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deep insight into the life and work
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25. Ms. Kanan Jhingan, 48, Swastik