Success & Failure A short story | |
*Consecutive Serial: How Much to Say? Original in Kashmiri 'silsilûvàr- kyà kyà vanû? - *M.K.Raina Translation: T.N.Dhar 'Kundan' | |
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could not sleep till late the previous night. As soon as I fell asleep I would see one or the other frightening dream that would shake me back into wakefulness. I decided not to sleep at all. Lying inside the quilt I began chanting a prayer. I continued the prayer till Vijay called me from below. I looked into the timepiece. It was about five in the morning. I sprinkled some water on my face and started towards Hari Parbat along with my friends. One of my friends lived at Nawa Kadal. His name was Chaman Lal. As for studies, he was a few steps even behind us. He was more attached to me because we both were well versed in calling other boys names. Jay Kishen was somewhat taller than us and we called him ‘Poplar’. Moti Lal had intoxicated eyes and we called him ‘Liquor’. One day Shiban came in glittering attire. We named him ‘Brocade’. Pran Nath’s family owned some agricultural land and he would often talk about new rice and new fertilizers. We nick named him ‘Sweet Fertilizer’. Toja had very little hair on his head and we named him ‘Baldee’. The list is very long; how much should I reveal? When we reached Nawa Kadal, I thought let us take along Chaman as well. I called him from the courtyard of his house. This awakened his father and he peeped through the window. I asked, ‘Sir, where is Chaman? Will he accompany us to Parbat?’ He replied rather with anger, ‘what has he to do with Parbat? He has already passed the examination.’ Saying so he got back to his room. I felt rather bad. Rest of my friends rebuked me, ‘why should you have called him?’ I apologized to them. Not that Chaman had known his results already. Actually his uncle was a spiritualist. He was known as Kakuji. He used to visit their house occasionally and Chaman would serve him well. This he would do partly due to the fear of his father and partly because of his own interests. It is said that before Chaman’s exams Kakuji had started living in their house. He had his tong and bowl with him and it was Chaman’s duty to take care of these important items of his. When his father raised the issue of his examination with Kakuji and told him that Chaman was not very serious about his studies, he retorted, ‘Why should he study? Mind your business. I will give you some sanctified candy. Give him a little out of that every morning when he leaves for examination. The result will be that he will pass irrespective of whether he writes something in the answer sheet or not. I will guarantee him a second division right now.’ This detail had already been narrated to me by Chaman. I had requested him to take me also before Kakuji and he was almost prepared too but his father did not allow. He told him that such secrets should not be revealed to others. We proceeded further and met two more students. They too were on their way to Hari Parbat. When we narrated the story of the previous day to them they laughed and said that the result is not to be seen from the rice grains. It should be seen with the help of the pebbles. We realized that the previous day we had committed a mistake. We, therefore, started walking along with them lest we should commit a mistake once again. After visiting Ganesh temple we reached the spot where we had to find our luck through the pebbles scattered over there. The two students took their turn first. One got a favourable result and the other unfavourable one. The latter sat on a low stonewall and began crying. The other tried to console him but in vain. We forgot our mission in this tragic scene. I approached him and said, ‘my dear friend! This is not the final verdict. May be you also are successful. Get up and proceed towards your home with hope and confidence that you will pass.’ While I was talking to him, Raja signalled to me and whispered in my ear, ‘Why are we here then? Why not leave everything to our luck? Whatever is destined will happen. Why should we bother from now itself?’ I retorted, ‘does that mean we should not find our result from these pebbles at all?’ He replied, ‘tell me, ‘when you are advising him that this is not the final verdict, why do you not tell the same thing to yourself?’ I thought that he was right after all. However the fact was that he himself was apprehensive of the outcome. The two students started back for their homes. There were still tears in the eyes of one of them. He was sobbing and the other boy was consoling him. Once they were off, we had a meeting under the shade of a Chinar tree to decide whether it is prudent to try our luck with these pebbles. We were discouraged to a great extent after seeing one of the two boys weep. Nika was the one who pronounced the final decision. He said, ‘let us leave everything to Goddess Sharika. She will give us success. Why should we create restlessness for ourselves by going after these pebbles? Every one of us agreed. We completed the circumambulation and reached the last gate ‘Kathi Darwaza’. The vegetable vendor lady of the previous day was at the same spot. We looked around but the bespectacled person of the previous day was nowhere to be seen. Suddenly the vendor saw me and said, ‘Sunny! Take this half-rupee. Yesterday you had forgotten the Hund vegetable and I sold it to someone else and your money was retrieved.’ So saying she took out a fifty paisa coin from her pocket and handed that over to us. We were delighted and Nika remarked, ‘Friends! The day has started off on a happy note. I am sure that the whole day will be fine and all of us will pass the examination.’ I agreed with him and we all proceeded back happily and finally camped at the house of Nika. After merely half an hour we heard someone calling from the lane below. We looked from the window and found Nika’s friend Ali Mir calling with a News Paper sheet in his hand. Seeing us he rushed inside and addressed Nika thus, ‘by my mother, I will not leave you today. You have to give a treat, which must include special fish prepared by Kakni, your mother. By God, I have brought you a good news.’ Nika promised that he would get the desired dish of fishes. Ali Mir took out the News Paper sheet and spread it before us. It contained our results. Ali Mir’s father worked in a News Paper press. He had brought this sheet home early in the morning. We scanned through the paper but could not locate our roll numbers. Presently Ali Mir snatched it and said, ‘what are you looking for? You are all successful. I have also passed.’ Then he showed us our roll numbers one by one among the passed candidates. We were in fact all successful. We hugged him. The news of our success in the matriculation examination spread in the meantime. The family members of all of us assembled in the house of Nika. My brother also joined and was very happy. Although he rebuked us for getting only a third division but in the heart of hearts he was very happy. Hearing the demand of Ali Mir, he went off to the market to purchase fishes. There were festivities in Nika’s house that day. Every one was dying to feast the special dish of fishes. I was rather sad. Chaman’s roll number was nowhere to be seen in the paper, which meant that he had failed. One could not say whether his father had missed giving him the candy every day or the candy given by Kakuji itself was ineffective. Listening to the broadcast of the results on the radio shakes even the strongest of the students. When the newscaster announces the roll numbers ‘one one two, one one four, one one seven, one two one ......’ the heartbeat accelerates and the breathing stops. I had seen many robust persons getting shrunk on such occasions. The listeners get pale. We were no doubt waiting for the results to be announced but without any anxiety. Had we not seen the Newspaper we too would have been restless. At twelve the special result bulletin was broadcast. We were hilarious counting how many failures there were between two numbers. Nika’s commentary was on. He would tell us the result of which school was being announced and which one would follow. When our turn came we started getting perturbed. We were apprehensive what if the announcer forgets announcing our roll numbers? But that was not to be. Our numbers were declared at the proper turn. Raj shouted, ‘I must congratulate now that the result has been announced on the radio as well.’ Now there was no count of the money we got as prize money for being successful nor of the fish pieces that Ali Mir consumed. But alas Chaman was declared fail even on the radio. I thought alas! if his father had allowed him to accompany us to Hari Parbat, he might have passed. Mother Goddess would have perhaps favoured him as she did in our case. | |
*M.K.Raina (MKR) is a civil engineer by profession and has been inclined to write short stories and poetry in Kashmiri since his college days. He is also fascinated by Kashmiri literature especially old classics, which he is trying to rew-write in Devanagari-Kashmiri for the net. In addition to his own works, MKR has put a plethora of Kashmiri literature of other authors on net (www.mkraina.com) after re-writing it in Devanagari-Kashmiri. MKR's self-authored and published material include 'Basic Reader for Kashmiri Language', 'tsok modur' - a collection of 6 short stories in Kashmiri, 'kenh non, kenh son' - a collection of 5 short stories in Kashmiri, and 'Pentachord' - a collection of 5 short stories in English. He has co-authored Information Digest Series of Project Zaan and has also developed a Work Book for reading & writing Kashmiri in Devanagari script. MKR was till recently editor of 'aalav' published from Bangalore and 'Milchar' published from Mumbai. He is currently the editor of monthly 'här-van', the net-journal of Project Zaan. MKR was instrumental in development of Akruti-Kashmiri-Arinimal software for writing Kashmiri in Standardised Devanagari Script in association with Cyberscape Multimedia Ltd. MKR hails from Chhattabal, Srinagar, Kashmir. Post-exodus, he is settled in Mumbai. | |
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It revives memories of our simple yet adventourous childhood - the innocence, the faith, the drama, the suspense, the bonhomie; in short, the mystique in which it was wowen.
Added By Dr. K L Chowdhury