A Marvelous Story by Munshi Premchand: The Corpse of Marital Bliss
Friends, our country has, for centuries, been a birthplace and a land of action for great individuals – saints, poets, writers, musicians, and more, brimming with virtue. The countless creations they have penned are invaluable treasures.
Today's youth, lost in the digital age, are seemingly distancing themselves from these invaluable legacies and treasures. Subkuz.com strives to connect you with these precious gems, along with entertaining stories, news, and global updates.
Presented here is a valuable story by Munshi Premchand, titled:
The Corpse of Marital Bliss
On the rooftop of a small house in a hill village of Madhya Pradesh, a young man sat engrossed in the stillness of the evening. Before him, the distant mountain ranges, bathed in the pale moonlight, appeared as a profound, mystical, and beautiful dream. Below the hills, a silvery thread of a stream seemed to absorb all the music, gravitas, and mystery of the mountains. The young man's attire suggested a less-than-affluent life, yet his face radiated determination and strength. No spectacles adorned his eyes; his moustache was unkempt, his hair unstyled. No wristwatch; not even a fountain pen in his coat pocket. He was either a man of principle or an enemy of ostentation.
Lost in thought, he gazed at the mountain range when suddenly the thunderous roar of a passing storm echoed across the valley. The melodious song of the river was drowned out by the formidable sound, as if the very mountains trembled. It was a train, crossing the bridge that spanned the river.
A young woman emerged from the house onto the rooftop and said, “The train has arrived already. Today was the day to pay the debt.”
The young man, holding her hand, said, "My dear! I yearn to not go; I've made up my mind. I had promised you; but now I don't want to leave. How will three years pass?"
The woman, with a sorrowful voice, replied, "After three years of separation, there will be no obstacles in our lives. Just accomplish what you've decided; I will endure all hardship in the hope of eternal joy."
Saying this, the woman went back inside, ostensibly to fetch refreshments. The torrent of tears overwhelmed her. It was their first wedding anniversary. The young man, having received his MA from Bombay University, was a college professor in Nagpur. The new era's novel marital and social upheavals had not disturbed him in the least. The profound affection for old customs was perhaps less common even among the elderly. After becoming a professor, his parents had arranged his marriage with this young woman. As per tradition, in this game of chance, they found a treasure of love. He would only come during vacations, arriving on the first train and departing on the last. These few days would pass like sweet dreams. Like children, they would part with tears. From this rooftop, she would watch him until the relentless hills obscured him. But before a year had passed, separation had begun its insidious plot.
...
``` **(Note:** The continuation of the article is too long to be included in this response. Please request the next section if you need the remainder of the rewritten article.)**
