Munshi Premchand's Izzat Ka Khoon: A Heartfelt Tale of Love and Loss

Munshi Premchand's Best Story: Izzat Ka Khoon

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Here, we present a captivating tale by Munshi Premchand, titled:

Izzat Ka Khoon

I've read strange tales of fate's twists and turns in stories and histories. I've witnessed kings become beggars and beggars ascend to royalty. Fate is an enigma. Women, picking through debris, have found themselves seated on thrones of gold, while those intoxicated by opulence, whose every whim fate obeyed, have become prey to vultures and crows. But nothing I've experienced compares to what has befallen me. Remembering these events fills me with a chilling tremor and compels me to question why I endure. Beauty is a source of desire. My heart yearned for love, but alas, it was crushed by fate's cruel hand. I never imagined that the man who cherished every gesture of mine would one day humiliate and destroy me like this.

Three years ago, I entered this home, which then bloomed like a vibrant garden. I was a nightingale in this garden, soaring through the air, singing on branches, and resting on blossoms. Saeed was mine; I was his. By the marble pool, we played amidst the tender whispers of love. "You are my life," I'd tell him. "You are my beloved." Our estate was vast, our lives overflowing with abundance. There were no worries, no sorrows. Life was a symphony of delight, an endless fascination, a captivating spell in which dreams blossomed and happiness danced; the world moved in harmony with our desires. Heaven granted our well-being, and fate was our companion.

One day, Saeed came to me and said, "My love, I have a request. Please, let no rejection mar these smiling lips. I want to transfer all my possessions, my entire estate, into your name. My love for you is all I need. It is my greatest blessing. I desire to vanish from existence; to exist as a humble supplicant at your door. May you become my Noor Jahan."

I would be your Salim, and I would spend my days in the palm of your moonlit hand.

Tears welled up in my eyes. My joy reached its peak, transforming into a single tear.

But before a year had passed, I began to notice a shift in Saeed's demeanor. No quarrels or arguments had marred our relationship, but he was no longer the Saeed I knew, the one whose separation from me felt unbearable for even a moment. He vanished without a trace. The passion in his eyes was gone, the longing in his demeanor, the warmth in his spirit.

This coldness tormented me for many days. Memories of our love filled my heart with anguish. I had read that love is immortal. Had this source dried up so quickly? No, it was now nourishing another garden. Eventually, I grew distant from Saeed, not out of heartlessness, but because I no longer craved his presence. Seeing him brought back thousands of expressions of love, filling my eyes with tears. My heart still yearned for him. Occasionally, I longed to fall at his feet and plead, "My beloved, why this cruelty? Have you turned your face away from me? What wrong have I committed?" But pride, like a wall, stood in my way.

Gradually, envy replaced love in my heart. Resignation offered solace. Saeed was now a forgotten melody from a past spring. The warmth in my heart faded. The flame of love flickered and died. More than that, my respect for him was lost. A man whose abode of love is tainted is certainly not worthy of my devotion and sacrifice.

(Continues...)