Dublin

A Passionate Love Letter: A Glimpse into Premchand's Prose

🎧 Listen in Audio
0:00

Friends, our country has been a birthplace and a land of action for great individuals, brimming with virtues like sages, poets, writers, and musicians, for centuries. The thousands of works created by these great personalities are invaluable. Today's youth, in this digital age, seem to be lost somewhere, and we are drifting further away from our heritage and precious treasures. subkuz.com consistently strives to bring you not only these invaluable treasures but also entertaining stories, news, and information from around the world. Presented before you is a precious story, highly inspirational, written by the renowned author Munshi Premchand.

Two Friends

Dearest Sister,

Since I have come here, your memory has been haunting me. Oh, how much more vibrant things would be if you could visit here for a few days! I could introduce you to my beloved friend. Is this not possible? Would your parents not grant you such freedom? I am astonished that you can endure such restrictions! I myself could not bear it for an hour. I thank God that my father is not among those who follow antiquated norms. He is a devotee of the new ideals that have transformed women's lives. Otherwise, I would not have remained here. Vinod recently returned from England with a D.Phil. and, before embarking on his life's journey, he desires a world tour. He has seen much of Europe, but he feels incomplete without exploring America, Australia, and Asia. He particularly wants to study Central Asia and China. His aim is to shed light on the very issues that European travellers have failed to address. Truly, Chanda, I have never encountered a man so courageous, fearless, and idealistic. I am amazed by his insights. There isn't a subject he doesn't possess a thorough knowledge of, and which he cannot critique; and this is not mere bookish criticism, but includes originality and novelty. He is a fervent devotee of freedom. What woman, becoming the wife of such a man, would not feel proud of her fortune. Sister, what shall I say about the feeling that washes over me when I see him approach my bungalow in the morning. My heart yearns to offer myself to him. He has taken up residence in my soul. My imagined ideal of a man, and he, are indistinguishable. I constantly fear that I may discover some flaw in myself. I spend late nights studying subjects that interest him. I have never worked so diligently. I have never felt such devotion to mirrors and combs, or such affection for proverbs. If, despite all this, I fail to win his heart, sister, my life will be lost, my heart shattered, and the world will feel empty to me.

Perhaps, alongside love, a touch of envy arises. When my neighbour Kusum stands in her veranda, watching him approach my bungalow, I want nothing more than for her eyes to become dim. Yesterday, a calamity struck. As soon as he saw her, Vinod removed his hat and smiled. She, the coquette, began to show off. God grant all misfortunes, but not false pride. You may have a witch-like appearance, but you consider yourself a celestial nymph. You write poetry, and your verses appear in several magazines. Truly, for a while, my reverence for Vinod wavered. I felt consumed with such rage that I wanted to pluck Kusum's nose. Thankfully, we did not engage in an altercation. But when Vinod sat down, I couldn't speak to him for half an hour, as if the magic had vanished from his words, the sweetness from his voice. Since then, my heart has remained restless. Sleep has evaded me as the same image constantly replays in my mind. I have devised numerous ways to shame Kusum. If I didn't fear that Vinod might consider me petty and frivolous, I would openly express my true feelings to him. I want to completely belong to him, and for him to completely belong to me. I am convinced that even if the most handsome man in the world appeared before me, I would not look at him. Why does Vinod not feel the same way about me?

Chanda, my dear sister; come visit me for a week. My heart is impatient to see you. I greatly need your advice and sympathy right now. This is a very delicate moment in my life. In these few days, I will either be transformed or dissolve into nothing. It's already seven o'clock, and I haven't even styled my hair. Vinod is due to arrive. Now I must bid you farewell. I fear that the unfortunate Kusum might once again stand on her veranda. My heart is already trembling. Yesterday, I convinced myself that she might have simply laughed lightly. Today, if the same scene were to unfold, I would not be able to calm myself so easily.

Yours,

Padma

Dearest Padma,

After what feels like an age, I have heard from you. I had feared you had embarked on a journey to the next world. This is but the consequence of Kusum's unkindness toward you. College closed on April 15th, and you write this letter on July 1st—two and a half months later, courtesy of Kusum. Kusum, whom you denounce, I bless. Why should you think of me if she hadn't stood in your path like a terrible affliction? Anyway, the portrait you've painted of Vinod is quite captivating, and I am praying to God that I will soon be able to meet him as your brother-in-law. But be careful, don't get married in a civil ceremony. The wedding should take place according to Hindu traditions. Yes, you are free to discard the countless frivolous and pointless clothes. Make sure to call a true, learned pandit, not just to argue with him about every matter, but to ensure the whole process is conducted as per scripture.

Now, tell me why you have remained silent for so long. In my own family, there have been five weddings in these past two and a half months. The processions have been relentless. Hardly a day passed without over a hundred guests, and the number swelled to five hundred or more whenever a procession arrived. These five girls are younger than me, and if I had my way, they wouldn't be married for another three or four years. But who listens to me? On reflection, I believe it's not inappropriate for parents to arrange marriages quickly. Life is unpredictable. If parents were to die prematurely, who would arrange a daughter's marriage? What can you expect from siblings? If a father leaves behind a substantial fortune, well and good; but as is usually the case, if he leaves a burden of debt, the sister becomes a burden on her brothers. This, like so many other Hindu customs, is an economic issue, and as long as our economic condition does not improve, this custom will not disappear.

Now, it's my turn to sacrifice. On the 15th of this month, this house will become a foreign land for me. I will return for two or three months, as a guest. My Vinod is from Banaras; he's currently studying law. His father is a renowned lawyer. I hear he has many villages and houses, and a good reputation. I haven't seen the groom yet. My father asked if I'd like him to arrange a meeting, but I said no, there's no need. Who wants to become a daughter-in-law in someone else's home? It's fate's bargain. Neither my father can enter anyone's heart, nor can I enter theirs. Would we have been able to assess one another if we had met once or twice, even if only briefly? This is not possible. At best, we can only see one another's looks.

``` **(Note):** The rewritten article is too long to fit within the 8192 token limit. It needs to be split into multiple sections. I've provided the first part, which is a significant portion of the original. To continue, please specify how you would like the remainder of the article to be handled (e.g., in chunks of a certain token count, or by specific sections).

Leave a comment