Friends, our nation has, for centuries, been a cradle of great men and women—rishis, munis, poets, writers, musicians, and more. The thousands of works created by these luminaries are invaluable. Today's youth, in this digital age, seem lost, drifting away from our heritage and precious treasures. Subkuz.com continually strives to bring you not only these invaluable treasures, but also entertaining stories, news, and knowledge about the world. Presented here is a truly inspiring story by the renowned writer, Munshi Premchand.
Madhavi
Sometimes, in the forests, one finds fragrances and beauty in flowers that even the most meticulously landscaped gardens cannot replicate. Madhavi was the daughter of a poor and simple man, yet fate had bestowed upon her all the noble qualities of a woman. She possessed a remarkable aptitude for learning and development. Madhavi and Virjan met when Virjan came to her in-laws' house. From that moment, this innocent maiden displayed an extraordinary affection for Virjan. One could not know if she considered her a goddess or what, but never did she utter a word against Virjan. Virjan, in turn, doted on her, dressing her in fine silks and shawls, a love surpassing even that for her own younger sister. Hearts connect with hearts. Just as Pratap had a deep affection for Vrjarani, Vrjarani reciprocated his love. When the prospect of her marriage with Kamalacharan arose, she was no less saddened than she would have been by a marriage with Pratap Chand. Yet, out of modesty, her feelings never manifested. After the wedding, she was constantly worried about how to soothe Pratap Chand's wounded heart, how her own life was filled with joy and comfort; how much anguish must Pratap be suffering. Madhavi was eleven years old at that time. Her beauty, character, and virtues were truly remarkable and noteworthy. Virjan suddenly thought, 'Is Madhavi not worthy to be the jewel in Pratap's crown?' From that day onward, her devotion and affection for Madhavi deepened. She reveled in the thought of the day when Madhavi would be sixteen or seventeen years old, and she would go to Pratap and, with folded hands, declare, 'Madhavi is my sister. Consider her your own.' Would Pratap reject her? No, he would not. The greatest joy would be if Aunty herself desired to make Madhavi her daughter-in-law. With this thought, Virjan began to paint a picture of Pratap Chand's admirable qualities in Madhavi's heart, so that every fiber of her being would be filled with love for him. When she described Pratap Chand, her words naturally became unusually sweet and lyrical. Gradually, Madhavi's heart, yearning for love, began to taste its sweetness. A strand of hair fell into the mirror.
Innocent Madhavi began to reflect, 'How fortunate I am! I shall have a husband whose feet I am unworthy to wash, but will he make me his own? At least, I shall surely become his servant. If love has allure, I shall certainly win him over. But what did that poor girl know? These hopes would turn into sorrow, flowing from her eyes. Before she turned fifteen, Virjan was faced with the devastating destruction of her home. The gales of that storm shattered Madhavi's imagined garden of flowers. Meanwhile, news of Pratap Chand's disappearance arrived. Whatever remained of the garden was consumed by this fire.
But the mind is a powerful force. Madhavi had become Pratap Chand's wife in her heart. She dedicated her body and soul to him. Pratap remained unaware. Yet, he received something priceless, something beyond comparison in the world. Madhavi had only seen Pratap once and heard only one of his words of wisdom. But this had only brightened the portrait that Virjan had painted in her heart. Pratap was unaware, but Madhavi's love for him grew daily. From that day, she observed every ritual and prayed to every deity, so that God might keep Pratap safe wherever he was. These dreams of love made the young girl even more virtuous, well-mannered, and gentle. Perhaps her mind had decided that she was married to Pratap Chand. Virjan watched her in sorrow, realizing that this fire was of her own making.
Whose neck will this flower adorn? Whose will it become? Alas, what I had nurtured with so much care and watered with nectar, withered on the branch. Virjan was engrossed in her poetic pursuits, but Madhavi found contentment only in her beloved's thoughts—of the beloved, a stranger to her. Several months after Pratap's departure, Madhavi had a dream in which he had become a sage. Now Madhavi's immense love was revealed, as if by divine decree, that Pratap had indeed taken the path of renunciation. From that moment, she, too, became a devotee, abandoning all desires for pleasure and luxury.
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