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Elective English—IV

Notes
classics of Indian literature, Gaban gives an engrossing picture of Indian society. It also
captures the social and economic conditions and conflicts of a North Indian society in
pre-independence India. It is a must read for readers interested in regional Indian literature.
In 1910, he was hauled up by the District Magistrate in Jamirpur for his anthology of short
stories Soz-e-Watan (Dirge of the Nation), which was labelled seditious. His book Soz-e-
Watan was banned by the then British government, which burnt all of the copies. Initially
Premchand wrote in Urdu under the name of Nawabrai. However, when his novel Soz-e-
Watan was confiscated by the British, he started writing under the pseudonym Premchand.
Before Premchand, Hindi literature consisted mainly of fantasy or religious works.
Premchand brought realism to Hindi literature. He wrote over 300 stories, a dozen novels
and two plays. The stories have been compiled and published as Maansarovar. His famous
creations are: Panch Parameshvar, Idgah, Shatranj Ke Khiladi, Poos Ki Raat, Bade Ghar Ki
Beti, Kafan, Udhar Ki Ghadi, Namak Ka Daroga, Gaban, Godaan, and Nirmala.

12.3 The Big Brother by Munshi Premchand

My brother, though five years my senior in age, was only three classes ahead. He started going
to school at the same age as I, but in a vital matter like education, he did not wish to be hasty. He
wanted to lay a solid foundation so that later he could build a magnificent palace over it. He did
one year’s work in two. Sometimes it took him even three years. If the foundations were weak,
how would the house be sturdy?

I was younger than him. He was fourteen and I was nine. He had every right, by virtue of his
birth, to watch over me and rebuke me. As far as I was concerned, courtesy demanded that I look
upon his orders as law.
He was very studious by nature and always sat with a book before him. Perhaps to give a little
rest to his brain he doodled. He sometimes drew pictures of birds, dogs and cats on his notebooks
or along the margin of his books. Sometimes he wrote a single name or word or sentence
several times over. Sometimes he copied down a couplet in a beautiful hand, again and again.
He often wrote things that had neither meaning nor logic. For example, once I saw on his
notebook the following text — special, Amina, between brothers, in truth, two brothers, Radhey
Shyam, Mr. Radhey Shyam, within an hour... There followed the face of a man. I tried hard to
find an answer to this riddle, but failed, and did not have the courage to ask him. He was in class
nine and I in class five. It was presumptuous of me to expect to understand his composition.
I was not at all interested in studies. It was a monumental task to sit with my books even for an
hour. At the first opportunity, I would run out of the hostel and on to the field. Sometimes I
played with pebbles, at other times I made paper butterflies and flew them. If I ran into a friend,
my happiness knew no bounds. Sometimes we would scramble up the compound wall and
jump down, sometimes we would swing on the gate and by pushing ft back and forth derive the
pleasure of a joy-ride in a car. But when I came back and saw my brother’s severe countenance,
I would be scared to death. His first question would invariably be, “Where were you?” Always
the same question, always asked in the same tone. And my only reply to it would be silence.
I don’t know why I couldn’t utter a simple thing like, “I was out playing.” My silence appeared
to be a confession of guilt and my brother had no choice but to scold me, “If this is how you go
about reading English, you will be at it all your life and not learn a single word. Learning
English is no joke. Not many people can do. it, or else every Tom, Dick and Harry would become
a scholar of English. We have to pore over books night and day and undergo terrible strain. And
what do we learn but a smattering? Even great scholars can’t write chaste English, much less
speak it. And I must say you are a fool not to take a leaf out of my book. You see perfectly well
how hard I work. If you don’t see it, you must be blind and stupid too! So many fairs and shows
are held here. Have you ever seen me attend any? Cricket and hockey matches are played every

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