Translated from the Original Hindi by
Kanwar Dinesh Singh
We have very small villages here. Some are very small hamlets. From ten to twenty houses to five to six houses and very close by. One village is on the bottom of the hill while the other is on its slope.
Banku Shah’s shop is in the form of a shack, but it fulfills all the needs of the village. The verandah of his shop is the village’s chaupal or club. Children play under the peepal in the walkway in front of the verandah and continue to chew while sitting down.
On that day, the morning rain stopped, and some sunshine came out. Some parsley was needed for medicine at home. I got out of the house to bring it from Banku Shah’s shop. A few men were sitting in the verandah of his shop. They were relishing hookah. In the front yard, the children of the village were playing a game of hide-and-seek. Shah’s five-year-old daughter, Phulo, was also among
them.
What should a five-year-old girl wear? A kurta was hanging from her shoulder. Phulo was engaged to Santu in Chulah village, far away from her village. Santu’s age must have been seven years. What would a seven-year-old boy do? There were two buffaloes, a cow, and two bulls in his house. When they used to graze, Santu would take a stick, watch them, and play. He would go to someone’s field.The evening brought him home.
When the rain stopped, Santu was goading his beasts into the greenery of the slope. He saw children playing under the peepal in front of Banku Shah’s shop. Seeing Santu coming to play their sport, Hari, a goldsmith’s six-year-old boy, screamed. Ouch! The groom for Phulo has arrived here. The other children shouted in the same way.
Children see and learn everything without seeing or explaining it to elders. Phulo was a five-year-old girl, so she knew she should be ashamed of the groom. She had seen her mother and all the gracious women of the village wear a veil with grace. Her samskaras guided her; it’s appropriate to cover her face with shame.Phulo was shying when the children shouted, but what would she do? Only one
shirt was hanging from her shoulders. She hid her face by lifting the flap of the shirt with both hands. Seeing this shame of a girl, an elderly man sitting in front of the shop, surrounded by hookah, laughed aloud. Kaka Ramsingh softly and affectionately told Phulo off to lower her shirt. The naughty boys started thinking about it as a joke.
I had come to Banku Shah’s shop to get some parsley for medicine but was easily touched by Phulo. I returned just like that. Even in changing times, what happens in an attempt to protect morality and shame from traditional customs is strange.
-0-Kanwar Dinesh Singh
Poet, Storyteller, Critic and Translator (English/Hindi),Associate Professor of English
#3, Cecil Quarters, Chaura Maidan, Shimla: 171004 H.P.
kanwardineshsingh@gmail.com
Mobile: 9418626090