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The Dream of Love: A Profound Story by Munshi Premchand

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Friends, our nation has long been a birthplace and a land of action for great individuals, brimming with virtues like sages, poets, writers, and musicians. The thousands of works created by these great figures are invaluable. Today's youth, in this digital age, seem to be lost somewhere, drifting further and further from our heritage and invaluable treasures. subkuz.com consistently strives to bring you not only these priceless treasures, but also entertaining stories, news, and insights from around the world. Presented before you here is one such invaluable story, profoundly inspiring, penned by the renowned author, Munshi Premchand.

The Dream of Love

The human heart is a playground of desires and a dwelling for aspirations. There was a time when Madhavi played in her mother's lap. At that time, her heart was free of desires and unburdened. But when she began making mud houses, a wish arose within her—I too will marry my doll. All the girls are marrying their dolls; will my dolls remain unmarried? I will have ornaments made for my dolls, clothe them, and arrange their marriage. This desire made her weep for many months. But the dolls' destiny was not ordained for marriage. One day, clouds gathered, and torrential rain poured down. The mud house was washed away, and the desire for the dolls' marriage remained unfulfilled.

Some time passed. She began to visit and frequent the home of Virajan, accompanying her mother. Listening to his gentle words, she found happiness; she ate from his plate and slept in his lap. Even then, a desire resided in her heart: My dwelling must be exquisite, with silver doors; the floor so clean that a fly landing would slide off it! I will take Virajan to my house, prepare and serve him the finest dishes, place him on an excellent bed, and attend to his needs. This desire lingered in her heart for many years. But like that mud house, this home too crumbled, and the hopes transformed into despair.

More time passed, and life's bloom emerged. Virajan began to capture Madhavi's heart with his charm. In those days, nothing pleased her except conversations about Pratapchandra. Eventually, a desire took root in her heart to become Pratapchandra's companion. She would spend her time in quiet contemplation, indulging in the sweetness of the moments. In the night, she would stay awake, relishing the joy of her thoughts. These thoughts filled her mind, but Pratapchandra vanished, and like the fragile mud house, these castles in the air crumbled. Despair replaced hope in her heart. She turned to the worship of the gods, observing fasts, hoping that ill fortune would not befall Pratapchandra. Thus, she spent many years of her life as an ascetic, consumed with the imagined love. But today, the ascetic's vow is broken. Fresh desires have emerged in her mind. Ten years of penance have been shattered in an instant. Will this desire too, like the mud house, be trampled underfoot?

Since Madhavi performed the devotional service to Lord Balaji, her tears haven't stopped. The entire day has passed. One by one, the stars began to emerge. The sun, weary, hid itself, and the birds sought rest in their nests, yet Madhavi's eyes did not tire. She pondered, 'Alas! Am I destined only for weeping? Was I once filled with laughter, that I now weep so much? Alas! Half my life has been spent weeping; will the rest also be like this? Will there not be a day in my life that brings me joy, a day I can cherish, remembering that I too experienced happiness? Never before has Madhavi been so deeply despondent and heartbroken. She was immersed in her imagined love. Today, new desires have sprung up in her heart. The tears are a reflection of these very feelings. Only someone who has known hope for sixteen years can understand Madhavi's emotions.

New desires arose in Suvama's heart. Until she saw Lord Balaji, her greatest desire was to gaze upon him and be comforted by his presence. Now that she has seen him, a different desire has emerged—the desire to be like Madhavi's mud house, to dissolve into the earth.

Tonight, Suvama, Virajan, and Balaji engaged in conversation. Balaji shared his experiences. Suvama recounted her Ramayana story, and Virajan added a few details. Upon hearing news of Munshi Sanjivanalal's renunciation, both of them wept. When it was time for the lamps to be lit, Balaji went to the Ganges for evening prayers, and Suvama began preparing the meal. After a long time, Suvama was diligently preparing the meal. They began to converse.

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