“Tak!…Tak!!…Tak!!!”, Gopalarao tapped the door gently with his knuckles. There was no response. The door wasn’t opened . he waited for a while.
The clock struck one.
“My god! I am late again. Too late! I have been a fool! I must be careful from tomorrow. Far from being an anti-nauch, I have slid down to watching this nauch girl with interest! Why should I wait like a lecher till the end of the show? Why that eagerness to talk to her on some pretext? I do hereby resolve — from tomorrow, I shall not visit the place again. Certainly not! Tapping the door more vigorously would wake up Kamalini if I can wake up this fellow Ramu up and sneak into the bedroom, I can pass off for a gentleman!
Gopalarao tried the door. To his surprise, he found the door was ajar, not bolted from inside. He opened it fully. There was no light in the doorway. He walked upto the bedroom. There was no light there as well. He tiptoed to the bed to see if Kamalini was awake. He couldn’t make out. He drew out the match box from his pocket and lighted a match. Kamalini was not on the bed. Astonished, he dropped the matchstick. Darkness pervaded his heart as it did the room. Strange apprehensions and equally strange fears swelled up and disturbed and annoyed him. He was not sure if his annoyance was with himself for his misdeeds or with Kamalini for her absence. He felt greatly irritated.
He came to the foreyard and called out his servants. Nobody answered his call. “these fellows must be hanged,” he said to himself in despair. Returning to his room, he lighted a lamp and started searching for her. He found his old servant Ramu in the middle of the road blissfully smoking and watching the stars!
“Ramu!”, he roared, “come here once!”
Startled and scared, Ramu threw away the cigar and ran to his master.
“Yes, Sir!”
“Where is she?”
“Who? My wife, Sir? She is at home.”
“You fool! Where is my wife?”
“Oh! You mean Madam, Sir! She must be sleeping in the bedroom Sir!”
“No. She is not.”
Ramu looked surprised. Slowly fear seized him. The moment he stepped into the house, Gopalarao gave two heavy blows on his back in a fit of anger. Ramu dropped down to the floor with a thud moaning, “You have killed me, Sir!”
Gopalarao was a gentleman. He immediately realized his mistake of venting his anger on the servant and regretted it. Soothing Ramu’s back with his palm, he lifted him up and took him to his room. Sitting in a chair and with agony clearly perceptible in his voice, he asked, “Ramu! What happened?”
“It looks a mystery to me Sir!”
“Has she gone to her father’s place?”
“She could have. If you don’t take me amiss, Sir, what else do you expect when a woman gets educated?”
“You stupid! You do not know the value of education.”
Gopalarao leaned over the table and holding his head between his hands started brooding. Suddenly he saw a note on the table in Kamalini’s hand. Involuntarily he took into his hands and started reading:
“Sir!”
“What a pity! She is addressing me like a stranger. The warm addressing ‘dear’ disappeared and changed to an alien salutation , Sir!” moaned Gopala Rao aloud.
“What Sir! Where is the deer Sir! Where did it disappear Sir!” Ramu asked innocently.
“You idiot! Shut up!”
Gopalarao continued reading the note.
“It’s ten days since I have been seeing you coming home only at night. You have been telling me that you were busy with social work and attending meetings on that score. But, I came to know the truth from my friends. I understand you have had to lie because of my presence at home. I can spare you that trouble if I go to my father’s place. You can be as free as you wish to be. What else a wife could do under these circumstances than to keep herself away from the husband? I am going tonight. Be happy. If you can spare any money after meeting your expenses, please send me.”
Folding the note, Gopalarao shouted aloud:
“I am an ass!”
“Master! Why do you say so?”
“I am a real big ass!” he repeated taking no notice of Ramu.
Ramu had been finding it very difficult to suppress his laughter.
“A woman of great character, a bundle of virtues, obedient and educated… she taught me a befitting lesson.”
“What did she do Sir!”
“She has gone to her father’s place. But, how could she go without your knowledge?”
Ramu stepped back a little and said, “I must have been sleeping then. If you don’t mistake me, Sir, a woman should be shown her proper place by giving a thorough dressing down. Then she would stay put at home and never think of going to her father’s place without permission! Strange things happen when women get educated and start writing as men do.”
“Bloody fool you are! The most valuable thing in God’s creation is an educated woman. Even our Lord Siva gave his consort Parvati half of himself. An Englishman calls his wife better half. Do you know what it means? It means that woman is superior to him. Understand?”
“I don’t understand anything, Sir!” Ramu said suppressing his laughter with great difficulty.
“Your daughter is attending the school just now. You’ll realize the value of education soon. Forget about it! One of us should immediately go to Chadravaram to bring her back. For the next four days I can’t move out of town. You’re our trusted family servant. Go and bring her. What will you tell her?”
“I know, Sir! I’ll say: Madam! Master broke my back. Please come home!”
“Useless fellow! Don’t you ever speak about the beating. I’ll give you two rupees for forgetting it.”
“Yes, Sir!”
“I’ll tell you what to say. Here me carefully. Say ‘Master has realized his mistake and will never visit nauch girls again. He’ll not move out of house at night. It’s a promise!’ understand!? Also say ‘he begs you to return home in a day or two without divulging anything to anyone there. He’s feeling your absence and counting days.’ Tell these words with finesse. Followed?”
“Yes, Sir!”
“Repeat to me what I asked you to say?”
Ramu scratched his head. “I’ll say…I’ll say… I forgot all that you have said, Sir! But I’ll say this: ‘Hear Madam! I’ve seen so many couples. A woman should always obey her husband and keep quiet. If you don’t, my Master will also maintain a nauch girl like his father. For your information, recently a very beautiful young girl has landed in our town and our Master is losing sleep over her already. It’s up to you now!”
“You rascal!” Gopalarao leaped from the bed. Ramu shot out like an arrow.
A serenading laughter and jingle of bangles were heard from under the bedstead.
*
[From : The Palette (1997) by RS Krishna Moorthy & NS Murty]
In an article in East & West , Dr. Michael Macmillan, sometime Principal of the Bombay Elphinstone Collegehad paid the following to say about the author:
“It is impossible for a European writer, however keen may be his powers of observation, and however richly endowed he may be with imagination, to thoroughly understand Indian life abd character and look upon Indian palaces, gardens, jungles, pageannts, and all the other richly coloured elements of Indian surroundings with the eye of a native of the soil. Thus it appears to us that neither Mr. Moore, nor Southey, nor Sir Edwin Arnold, nor Mr. Rudyard Kipling, nor Sir Alfred Lyall, nor Professor Bain of Poona, in their most brilliant efforts to give poetic expression to the glamour of the gorgeous East, have succeeded in producing as true a picture of India as the less ambitious and more homely verses of the author of the The Angel of Misfortune.”
.
Wasanta
.
Like the first hopes of youth Wasanta Comes…
He seems at first to tread on tiptoe o’er
Tree, shrub, and creeping plant, as if he feared
To wake them from their wintry sleep…
And then the delicate lilies on the lake
That revel in sun’s resplendent beams;
And tender Kumuda flowers that coyly wait
The silver moonlight, and then softly ope
Their beauteous face, and smile upon the calm
And cloudless heavens; the overpowering breath
Of the bright golden Champah, and the soft
But exquisite odour of the modest buds
Of Malati; all, all are strangely sweet
And ‘witching to the sense.
.
Nagesh Wishwanath Pai
(1860? – 1920?)
Indian Poet
Works : Stray Sketches of Chakmakpore (1894) and The Angel of Misfortune (1904)
తను చెప్పలేనన్ని సార్లు మోకాళ్లపై వాలి దండాలు పెడుతుంది
ఆమె తన సేవకుల దగ్గరకూడా వినయంగా ఉంటుంది
అతని ప్రేమ ఆకాశంలోని నక్షత్రాల్లా అందనంతదూరం.
అయినా సూర్యముఖి సూర్యుడివైపే వాలుతుంది.
నిప్పూ, నీరూకంటే ఎక్కువగా వాళ్ళ హృదయాలు ముక్కలై ఉంటాయి
వాళ్ళకి వెయ్యి శాపనార్ధాలు పెడుతుంటారు.
వయసుతోపాటే వాళ్ల ముఖమూ మార్పుకి లోనవుతుంది
ఆమె భర్త కొత్త సుఖాలకై అర్రులుజాస్తుంటాడు.
ఒకప్పుడు వస్తువూ-నీడా లా కలిసున్న వాళ్ళిద్దరూ
ఇప్పుడు కాశీ- రామేశ్వరమంత దూరాన ఉంటారు.
అయినా హూ – చిన్ త్వరలో కలవకపోరు
విస్ఫోటనంలో విడివడ్డ రెండు నక్షత్రాల్లా .
.
ఫ్యూ హ్యువాన్,
(217- 278) CE
చీనీ కవి
FU HSÜAN.
Woman
.
How sad it is to be a woman!!
Nothing on earth is held so cheap.
Boys stand leaning at the door
Like Gods fallen out of Heaven.
Their hearts brave the Four Oceans,
The wind and dust of a thousand miles.
No one is glad when a girl is born:
By her the family sets no store.
When she grows up, she hides in her room
Afraid to look at a man in the face.
No one cries when she leaves her home —
Sudden as clouds when the rain stops.
She bows her head and composes her face,
Her teeth are pressed on her red lips:
She bows and kneels countless times.
She must humble herself even to the servants.
His love is distant as the stars in Heaven,
Yet the sunflower bends towards the sun.
Their hearts are more sundered than water and fire —
A hundred evils are heaped upon her.
Her face will follow the years changes:
Her lord will find new pleasures.
They that were once like the substance and shadow
Are now as far from Hu as from Ch’in [two distant places]
Yet Hu and Ch’in shall sooner meet
That they whose parting is like Ts’an and Ch’en [two stars]
.
FU HSÜAN or Fu Xuan
217–278 CE
Chinese historian, poet and politician.
Fu Xuan (217–278), courtesy name Xiuyi, was a Chinese historian, poet, and politician who lived in the state of Cao Wei during the Three Kingdoms period and later under the Jin dynasty. He was one of the most prolific authors of fu poetry of his time. He was a grandson of Fu Xie (傅燮), a son of Fu Gan (傅幹), and the father of Fu Xian (傅咸). (From Wikipedia)
సంతృప్తితో నిండిన పేదరికం విధి ఇవ్వగలిగిన గొప్ప బహుమానం
సంపదలూ, కీర్తిప్రతిష్టలూ అనర్థానికి చెలికత్తెలు
ప్రపంచమంతా బంగారానికీ, రత్నాలకీ ఆశపడి దాచుకున్నా,
నా దృష్టిలో ఊకతోనూ కలుపు మొక్కలతోనూ సమానం.
.
ఫ్యూ హ్యువాన్
(217 – 278) CE
చీనీ కవి
.
.
A Gentle Wind
.
A gentle wind fans the calm night:
A bright moon shines on the high tower.
A voice whispers, but no one answers when I call:
A shadow stirs, but no one come when I beckon,
The kitchen man brings in a dish of lentils:
Wine is there, but I do not fill my cup.
Contentment with poverty is Fortune’s best gift:
Riches and honor are the handmaids of Disaster.
Though gold and gems by the world are sought and prized,
To me they seem no more than weeds and chaff.
.
FU HSÜAN or Fu Hsuan (aka Fu Xuan)
(Translated by Arthur Waley)
Fu Xuan (217–278), courtesy name Xiuyi, was a Chinese historian, poet, and politician who lived in the state of Cao Wei during the Three Kingdoms period and later under the Jin dynasty. He was one of the most prolific authors of fu poetry of his time. He was a grandson of Fu Xie (傅燮), a son of Fu Gan (傅幹), and the father of Fu Xian (傅咸). (From Wikipedia)
.
