Friends, our nation has, for centuries, been a birthplace and a stage for great individuals, brimming with qualities like sages, poets, writers, musicians, and more. The countless creations of these great figures are invaluable treasures. Today's youth, in this digital age, seem lost, and we are drifting further away from our heritage and precious wealth. Subkuz.com consistently strives to bring you not only these invaluable treasures but also captivating stories, news, and insights from around the world. Presented here is a truly inspiring story, penned by the renowned writer Munshi Premchand.
The Hardship
For a fortunate woman, her husband is the most cherished possession in the world. She lives and dies for him. Her laughter, her words, her adornments are all for his pleasure and to attract him. Her conjugal life is her life, and the loss of that life is the end of her existence.
Kamalacharan's untimely death was no less than death itself for Vrjarani. Her aspirations and hopes were all reduced to dust. What desires she held, and what had become of them? The image of the deceased Kamalacharan continuously flitted before her eyes. If her eyes closed for a moment, his form would appear vividly before her.
Sometimes, earthly tribulations become entwined with a particular person or family. Before Kamala's grief had subsided, Babu Shyamacharan's turn came. Instead of the branches withering, this time the evil fate struck at the very roots. Ramdin Pandey was a notoriously arrogant man. He remained hidden as long as the Deputy Magistrate was in Majhgaon, but as soon as the magistrate returned, he began his mischief. The entire village became his enemy. The way the villagers of Majhgaon looked at him on Holi Day, like thorns, pierced his heart. The magistrate of that district was a notorious and skilled extortionist. He could swallow thousands of rupees without even a cough. He was so adept at crafting accusations and evidence that he could ensnare anyone, leaving them beyond the reach of salvation. The authorities were well aware of his manipulative tactics, yet their cunning and efficiency left no one unscathed. Ramdin approached the magistrate, seeking a cure for his heart's ailment. A week later, Majhgaon was the scene of a robbery. A wealthy merchant was traveling through the city. He stayed overnight at the home of a local official. The robbers prevented him from returning home. In the morning, the magistrate arrived for investigations, binding the entire village to him through a single rope.
By chance, the case came before Babu Shyamacharan's court. He already knew the entire story and the magistrate had been a thorn in his eye for some time. He exposed the magistrate's deception. The trial dragged on for six months, with considerable media attention. The government lawyers tried various tactics, but what could they conceal from an insider? The result was that the Deputy Magistrate acquitted all the accused and, that same evening, the magistrate was suspended.
As the Deputy Magistrate returned after delivering the verdict, a well-meaning employee warned him, "Your Honor, be wary of the magistrate. He was extremely agitated today. He has deceived a couple of officials in the past. He will surely try to harm you." The Deputy Magistrate listened and, with a smile, thanked the man; but he took no specific precautions. He felt that this was a sign of his own timidity. Radha Ahir earnestly requested to remain with him, but he refused to take anyone along. He continued to conduct his duties as before.
The ruthless Jaleem Khan, having lost his life, turned his animosity towards Babu Shyamacharan. One day, as they were returning from a trip to Shivpur, near the asylum, their carriage was stopped by a balky horse. In a moment, Jaleem Khan fired from behind a tree. A gunshot echoed, and a bullet pierced Babu Shyamacharan's chest. The asylum guards rushed over. Jaleem Khan was apprehended, and the guards prevented his escape.
These events brought about a radical transformation in her nature and behavior. She grew irritable and harsh with everyone, mistakenly believing that this predicament was solely the fault of her daughter-in-law. Since this unfortunate woman had come to the house, all had gone awry. Her character was deeply flawed. More than once, she openly confronted Virjan, saying, "Your deceitful ways have tricked me. I never knew your intentions were so malign!" Virjan would listen and remain motionless, her heart heavy. When everything is dreadful, how can pleasantries be considered? The torment prevented her even from shedding tears of sorrow. Tears only flow when a well-wisher listens to one's pain. Tears are extinguished by the fire of ridicule and sarcasm.
One day, Virjan's mind became so troubled that she went into the garden for a while. Ah! How many joyful days had been spent in this garden! Every plant in this garden was a monument to a lost love. There were times when simply looking at the flowers and leaves would fill her heart with joy, and the fragrant air would bring her delight. This was the place where they had spent many evenings in courtship. At that time, the blossoms greeted her with their tender embrace. But sorrow! Today, their heads were bowed and closed. Wasn't this the same place where the "unmarried maid" wove flower garlands? But the innocent maid knew nothing about the garlands of tears that she would have to weave with her own eyes.
With these thoughts, Virjan's gaze turned towards the bower from which Kamalacharan had once emerged, smiling, as if she were observing the rustling of leaves and the glimpse of his garments. A slow, gentle smile played across her lips, like the pale, faded reflection of a setting sun on the Ganges. Suddenly, Premvathi, with harsh words, said, "Now, you are enjoying your leisurely stroll!"
Virjan stood up, weeping, and said, "Mother! Why do you torment one already afflicted by Narayana!"
Premvathi's mind was so distraught that within a month, she sold all her belongings and moved to Majhgaon, leaving Vrjarani behind. She was disgusted by her appearance. Virjan was left alone in the vast mansion. Apart from Madhavi, she had no one to support her. Suvma was as heartbroken as her own daughter was.
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