A Glimpse into Domestic Discord, Inspired by Munshi Premchand

Friends, our country has been a birthplace and a land of action for great personalities, brimming with the virtues of sages, poets, writers, musicians, and more. The thousands of creations crafted by these great individuals are invaluable. Today's youth, in this digital age, seem lost, and we are drifting further from our heritage and precious treasures. subkuz.com constantly strives to bring you these invaluable treasures, along with entertaining stories, news, and information about the world.

Here, presented before you, is a remarkable story, deeply inspiring, penned by the renowned writer Munshi Premchand.

A Glimpse

Discord had reigned in the household for days. Mother sat with a sullen face, and wife with a similar mood. The air in the house felt poisoned. No food was prepared at night, and I placed khichdi on the stove during the day: yet, no one ate. Even the children lacked appetite today. The little girl would sometimes stand by me, sometimes by her mother, sometimes by her grandmother: but nowhere was there any affection for her. No one picked her up, as if she had committed some offense. The boy came home from school in the evening. No one offered him food, spoke to him, or asked him anything. Both sat forlorn in the veranda, perhaps pondering why people's hearts were so distant from them today.

Brothers and sisters fight often during the day, and sometimes even have arguments and scuffles: but it never happens that food isn't cooked at home or that someone doesn't speak to another. This kind of feud, that doesn't seem to subside even after twenty-four hours, was beyond their comprehension.

The root of the dispute lay in a seemingly trivial matter. Mother-in-law had prepared a list of items for sending to her daughter's wedding. The wife, observing the household's situation, thought it was too extravagant. Mother-in-law, though sensible, had made some slight adjustments, but wife felt further reductions were necessary. What harm is there in having three sarees instead of five? What need is there for so many toys and sweets? Her argument was that when there were no gains from employment and daily tasks were demanding, with a tight budget for milk and ghee, why such generosity for the festival? It’s not that you light lamps in the mosque and keep the house dark.

This sparked an argument between mother-in-law and daughter-in-law, which quickly escalated into a heated exchange of harsh words and insults. The dispute reached its peak and eventually died down in silence.

I was caught in a predicament. If I voiced my opinion in favor of mother-in-law, wife would cry and complain about her fate, while if I spoke for wife, I would be labeled disloyal to mother-in-law. I tried to appease both sides, but my sympathy, selfishly, always inclined toward my wife. Though I couldn’t openly criticize mother-in-law, I secretly felt she was the one being overly demanding. The shop's business was such that sometimes there wasn't even enough work to do. Why risk your safety by scolding the old ways if you don't get paid?

This domestic turmoil frequently distressed me. Three people in a household, and yet, devoid of affection! Such a household would deserve to burn down. At times, the urge to abandon everything and run away was almost irresistible. When they will realize the pain, only then will they understand how a household functions. How could I have imagined such difficulties. A variety of negative thoughts filled my mind. There was no doubt that mother-in-law was trying to cause problems. My wife didn't serve her feet or head; what was my fault? I hadn't stopped her. I would be truly happy if there were love between mother-in-law and daughter-in-law, but that was beyond my control. If mother-in-law had washed her mother-in-law's saree, served her feet, or helped her bathe, why was she now demanding similar services from her daughter-in-law? Why didn't she realize that times had changed? Daughters-in-law no longer feared their mothers-in-law. They might even be forced to do anything for love, but the era of imposing authority is over.

The entire city was celebrating Janmashtami, but my household was embroiled in conflict. Evening arrived, but the house remained shrouded in darkness. An ominous atmosphere prevailed. My anger turned towards my wife. Fight if you must, but why keep the house dark? I went and asked, "Why are there no lights in the house today?"

My wife, with a sullen face, retorted, "Why aren't you lighting them? Aren't your hands functioning?"

My frustration exploded. "Then weren't there lights in the house when you were not here?"

Mother-in-law added fuel to the fire, "No, everyone stayed in darkness."

This remark from mother-in-law exasperated my wife. "It's likely that you light earthen lamps! I haven't seen a lantern in this house. I have spent ten years in this home."

I reprimanded, "Quiet! Don't be so dramatic!"

"Oh, so you're scolding me as if you bought me."

"I'm telling you, be quiet."

"Why should I be quiet? If you say one thing, I'll say two."

"Is this how a wife should behave?"

"I walked out dejected and sat in a dark room, lamenting the fateful day I married this woman. The ten years of my life in this darkness unfurled before me like a cinematic reel, devoid of light and gentleness."

Suddenly, my friend Pandit Jaydev called out from the door—"Why is it so dark today? I can't figure it out. Where are you?"

I remained silent, thinking, "How did this person suddenly appear?"

Jaydev called again—"Where are you, brother? Why aren't you responding? Is anyone in the house?"

There was no reply.

Jaydev banged on the door so hard that I feared the doorframe would collapse. Still, I didn't answer. His presence was irritating.

Jaydev left. I took a sigh of relief. The demon was gone, and my head wasn't throbbing for hours.

But within five minutes, I heard footsteps again, and this time a bright torchlight filled my room. Jaydev, seeing me sitting there, inquired curiously—"Where have you been? You cried out for hours and nobody answered. Why aren't the lights on?"

I made an excuse—"I had a headache, I returned from the shop and fell asleep."

"And you slept after selling your horse and making bets with the dead?"

"Yes, I fell asleep."

"But you should have lit the lamp, shouldn't you? Or has it been retrenched?"

"People in the house are fasting today. There is nothing left."

"Well, let's go see a glimpse of the Janmashtami celebrations! Seth Ghorelal's temple has such a beautiful display. It's amazing. Mirrors and electric decorations have been arranged so brilliantly that your eyes are drawn in. A fountain is placed right in front of the throne, from which rosewater sprays are emanating. I'm simply mesmerized. I'm hurrying to you directly. You've seen many glimpses, but this is exceptional. The atmosphere is electric. They say some clever artisan has come from Delhi. It's their work."

I said indifferently, "I don't feel like going, brother! I have a severe headache."

"Then come! Tell me if the pain doesn't subside."

"You are always so insistent! I was just hoping to escape, but you've insisted on coming. I said, 'I will not go'."

"And I said, 'I will definitely take you'."