Mansarovar - Part I

By Munshi Premchand

As a story-writer Premchand had become a legend in his own lifetime. The firmament of Premchand's stories is vast. In view of variety of topics, he, as though, had encompassed the entire sky of humane world into his fold. Each of Premchandji's stories unravels many sides of human mind, many streaks of man's conscience, the evils in some societal practices and heterogeneous angles of economic tortures. All this is done with complete artistry. His stories stir the readers' mind even today by means of their variegated layers of thoughts and feelings. They are all the heralds of human glories coming from the pen of a time-tested author. The very intrinsic nature of his stories, their external formats unfold their entire uniqueness and appeal to the reader's mind. Owing to such special features Premchandji's stories arc still relevant today, as much as they were five decades ago. The chief themes of his stories arc rooted to the rural life with city social life appearing as the contrast to illustrate the complete picture of contemporary Indian life. The stories of Munshi Premchand, fighting on behalf of the downtrodden of the society, who arc suffering from the social and economic agonies, are the strongest assets of our Literature.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Diamond Books
• Release date: Dec 7, 2021
• ISBN: 9788128828003

Book preview

1 SEPARATION

(Algaujha)

After his wife died, Bhola Mahto married for the second time; and that was the onset of bad period for Ragghu, his son. He was only ten at that time, used to fiddle around playing gulli-danda and doing precious little. Arrival of his new mother in the family cut his freedom for ever and he was promptly yoked in harness.

Panna was endowed with beauty, was well conscious of it too. For there lies everlasting bondage between beauty and priggishness. She won’t do even a trifle for the household. If s only Ragghu to scavenge the cow dung, feed the bullocks, wash dishes in the scullery, and would go on doing these everyday.

Bhola’s affection for his son gradually turned thin so much as he would find thick faults with the boy. Comparatively, in keeping up of the axiomatic practices of yesteryears, he would shut his eyes towards assertive excesses of Panna and would not listen to a word of complaint from Ragghu. As a result of these, Ragghu stopped complaining at all. With whom would he solicit justice now? Entire village as though had turned inimical to him. Villagers were made wise enough to look down upon him as stubborn, thankless to his mother’s cares. ‘What an ungrateful brat he is’— they would tattle, ‘who refuses to yield to all affectionate fostering of Panna’. ‘What a return? ‘— some other would chuckle, had she been of other type, his nurture would have been stopped by now. One should thank Panna for her artlessness.’

Ragghu suffered in anguish, isolated, for everybody listens to what the powerful says, but even to the appeal of the weakling none lends ears. In his feeble mind surged yearns for his own mother’s love, incessant and silent. Eight years were gone in this manner, when one day the god of death summoned Bhola too.

In Bhola’s death Panna read a forewarning. She had four children — three sons and one daughter. A large family such as hers had no breadwinner now. Why Ragghu will look after them? It was, as if, well nigh decided that he would marry now and live separately. Besides, the new bride would stoke only fire in the household. For Panna there seemed gloom all round.

Yet, come what may, she resolved never to be dependent upon Ragghu.

In the household where she had reigned, thus far, she cannot afford to turn a loundi. She won’t look for her subsistence at the lounda whom she treated a bonded- servant ever since. Her feature was beautiful. Even at that mature age she looked young. Youth still had endowed on her full grace. Could not she marry again? What’ll happen if she did? Some people might only laugh at her, or look askance with a ridicule. How does that matter? How does that make any difference to her? Was re-marriage uncommon in her caste? Well she was not from the lineage of Brahmins or Thakurs, so she might lose social esteem in her beradari eyes. In those families there’s always a cover of aristocracy. Inwardly, do not they do just about anything they please? As for her, she did not have any backward pull. She could marry again in full knowledge of others. Why then should she spend her life submissive to Ragghu?

One month had passed after Bhola died. It was evening when, as she was lying engrossed in her mundane thoughts, Panna suddenly realised that her kids were not at home. It was time for the cattle to return from grazing. Who could ensure if any of her children did not fall under their hoofs? Who’s there now to stand guarding the front gate? Ragghu must have had developed extreme repulsion for her children. He hardly even smile at them.

She rushed out of the gate. But there was a surprise for her awaiting. Ensconced under a thatch across their gate, there was Ragghu busy in making gaderis. The children were there onlooking in rapt attention, while the daughter was labouring to climb up his shoulders. The scenario was unbelievable for Panna, as it seemed to her a new episode altogether. ‘Was he trying to show off that he dearly loved his half brothers and sisters and sharpening a vengeful design under it? He might even take their lives if given opportunity. Oh, a black snake is he, a venomous person. She called out to her children in harsh overtone:

—What are you all doing there? Come inside, it’s evening now. The cattle’d return any moment.

Ragghu raised his head, looked at her in his habitual docility —I’m here, kaki, don’t you worry about them.

Kedar, her eldest son, said—Kaki, Ragghu dada is making two carts for our joy-rides. Look at them. I and Khunnu will sit on this. Lachhman and Munu will sit on the other. Dada will drag both the carts at a time.

The boy brought out from the nook two small hand-pulled carts for joy-rides. In each were four small wheels, a sized-up plank for seat and two wooden arm rests for balancing. Astonished at this Panna asked—Who made these carts? Proudly replied Kedar—Who else? It’s Ragghu dada. From Bhagat’s he fetched vasula and rukhani and made these promptly. It runs very well kaki. I will drag it for you. Now sit here Khunnu.

Khunnu sat on it forthwith and Kedar pulled, the wheels gave out chirrupy noise and frictions, as it were, the cart itself was responding palyfully to the joy of the kids.

Meantime Lachhman brought out the other cart and smartly placed himself on it. Then he called out to Ragghu— Dada now pull it for me.

Raghu in his turn lifted tiny Munia and placed her on the cart seat, and started pulling it. Gradually he began to run slow to hearty clappings of the children, overjoyed at the novel game. Amazed Panna wondered if he was the same Ragghu. Khunnu shouted to her—All trees are running now Kaki.

Lachhman joined him to say —See, how these Calves ran away all at one go.

Kedar called out to her —Kaki, see now Ragghu dada is pulling both the carts at the same time.

For little Munia to find out words to express her joy was a problem; she compensated that with her enthusiastic claps and twists.

Soon after they withdraw indoors Khunnu reported— We’ll get a cow very soon, kaki. Ragghu dada has asked for it from Girdhari, who has promised to bring it tomorrow.

Kedar joined him—It gives three seers of milk and we’ll have enough to drink now onwards.

Meanwhile Ragghu entered and having noticed that Panna asked with her usual scorn—Well, have you asked a cow from Girdhari?

Ragghu wondered, then said apologetically—Yes, I have. He’s likely to bring it tomorrow.

Panna asked sharply —From where money’ll come? Have you thought about it?

Pat came the reply—I’ve thought about it quite well, kaki. I’ve this chain with a golden coin. It’ll fetch twenty five rupees. Five rupees I’ll deduct for the calf and that will fetch us the milch cow.

Panna got dumbfounded. For the first time her suspicious mind failed to ignore Ragghu’s gentility. His love for younger brothers and the little sister was now proved genuine. She replied—Why have you to sell off your gold chain? We are not in much hurry for a milch cow. Buy it when you have some extra money, not now. Your bare neckline wouldn’t look good. After all, the children have been able to do without the milch cow this long.

Ragghu replied euphorically—Well kaki, it’s time for the young to eat and drink enough to a proper growth. If they don’t get proper nourishment now at this age, what’ll be their health when grown-up? Besides, I don’t enjoy putting on the chain with gold coin. People might well be critical of me wearing it, as our father is not alive now.

It was the anxiety to own a milch cow that had killed Bhola Mahto. Neither could he accumulate enough money for it, nor could he get one. He was helpless circumstantially. But lo and behold, how easily Ragghu solved the same problem. It was today for the first time Panna gathered confidence on Ragghu.

Apologetically she said—If you have to sell-off ornaments, then why your chain, take my hasuli.

Ragghu protested—No kaki, that looks marvellous around your neck. For males chain with the muhar has no meaning. Nobody bothers about it.

Panna objected— Come on, I am an old woman, hasuli has no meaning for me now, you are just a boy. Your neck will look odd without it.

Ragghu replied with admiring overtone—Well! How can you call yourself ageing? There’s none in the village who can match your charm.

His simple straightness made Panna blushing. A glow of placidity spread in her rude unhappy face.

2

Five years had passed since, happily. Not another farmer was to be found in the village who was more hardy, honest and a man of his word. He was twenty three now an Panna would insist everyday that he should bring his bride from her parents. ‘People will blame me’, she would argue.

—They say it’s me who is stopping her coming here.

Ragghu would not budge. He would rather avoid the issue retorting —There is just no hurry. Infact he had already gathered news of his bride’s demeanour. He was reluctant to bring her to this household, for that might kill peace here.

One day at last impatient Panna got stubborn— So that’s all you have resolved. Never to bring her to us, her in-laws?

Ragghu replied— I have told you already kaki, it’s not time yet to bring her.

—As for you time will never come but for me it has. I’m going to send an escort for her.

—You will repent kaki, if you do so; she doesn’t behave a fit demeanour for this household.

—Oh forget it. If I refuse to retort, whom she’ll quarrel with? She would look after the cooking at least. I cannot manage in and out like this any longer. I am going to send some escort to bring her home.

—Well, if you so insist, do as you like, but never repent afterwards. Never blame me if she is uncontrollable or you feel dominated by her.

—Alright I’ll not complain. Now go to the market, fetch two sarees and some sweatmeat.

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