Page 120 - DENG105_ELECTIVE_ENGLISH_II

Unit 9: The Shroud by Munshi Premchand

Relishing the taste of every one of these delicacies in his imagination, Madhav said, ‘No one Notes
gives us such feasts now.’
‘Who will give such feasts now? That was an altogether different time and age. Now, everyone
thinks of cutting corners. Don’t, spend on marriages, don’t spend on funerals. Someone ought
to ask such people where they are going to stash all the wealth they have hoarded by fleecing
the poor. They never think of cutting down on their hoarding, though when it comes to
spending some of that money, they start talking of economising.’

‘You must have eaten about twenty puris?’
‘I ate more than twenty.’ T would have eaten fifty.’
‘I couldn’t have eaten any less than fifty. I was a strong young lout; you are barely half my
size.’
After finishing the potatoes, they drank some water and right there, in front of burnt-out fire,
wrapped themselves in their dhotis anil went off to sleep. They looked like two enormous
coiled pythons.
And Budhiya was still moaning.
II

In the morning Madhav entered the hut and saw that his wife had turned cold. Flies were buzzing
around her face and her stony eyes were gazing upwards. Her body was coated with dust. The
child had died in her womb.
Madhav ran towards Ghisu and the two began to scream and shout and beat their chests. When
the neighbours heard their weeping and wailing, they came running and, according to the
age-old custom, tried to comfort the bereaved. However, there was no time to indulge in excessive
grief. They had to worry about the shroud and pyre-wood. Money was as scarce in their house
as meat in an eagle’s nest.
Father and son went crying to meet the village zamindar. He detested the sight of the two and
had, on several occasions, thrashed them with his own hands for stealing or not turning up
for work despite promising to do so. Now he asked, ‘What the hell is the matter with you?
Why are you crying? I hardly ever see you around these days; it seems you don’t want to live
in this village anymore.’
Ghisu, with his head lowered to the ground and his eyes brimming with tears, said, ‘My lord,
a catastrophe has befallen us. Madhav’s wife passed away last night. She writhed with pain
all night long while both of us sat beside her. We did whatever we could, gave her medicines
but, to cut a long story short, she left us. Now there is no one left to give us even a morsel
of food, my lord. We’ve been ruined. Our lives have been destroyed. You are our lord and
master, there is no one else to see that she has a decent cremation. Whatever little we had went
towards her care and medicines. Now, if your excellency is benevolent, she can be given her
last rites. Whose door can we go to except yours?’
Zamindar sahib was a kind man but to show kindness to Ghisu was like trying to dye a black
blanket. Zamindar sahib felt like telling him to go to hell. Normally the fellow doesn’t even
bother to show up even when you send for him. And now that he wants something, he has
come with his ingratiating words. Lazy beggar. But he knew it was not the right moment for
giving vent to his anger or meting out punishment. Thwarted, he pulled out two rupees and
flung them on the ground, but he did not utter one word of sympathy. He did not utter one
word or look at Ghisu. It was as though he had done his duty and eased a load from his head.
Since Zamindar sahib had given two rupees, how could the village money-lenders and merchants
dare refuse? Ghisu knew how to broadcast the fact that Zamindar sahib had already given him

LOVELY PROFESSIONAL UNIVERSITY 115