95 / 365 of reading one short story every day.
My First Composition - Munshi Premchand
The young boy Premchand writes how his first writing piece came to be about. This wonderful short story narrates the initial years of reading as a hobby which develops into a passion.
When Premchand was thirteen, he was interested in Urdu rather than Hindi novels. He recounts how naturally the 'hobby' came to him. From reading novels of popular writers like Mirza Ruzwa, Maulvi Ali and Reynold translated ones, he fell in love with words and stories. While other boys were interested in plays and games, Premchand was lounging around booksellers in Gorakhpur to get a job which would entitle him to read during his working time. What a dream job that would be and what a clever plan! He read the entire collection and then started the next one. Premchand writes with fascination abut Tilasmi Hoshruba - an epic series of romantic tales by a popular ancient Persian author called Maulana Faizi. He was reputed to be the storyteller of Akbar's court.
While Premchand was reading and enjoying other's works and gobbling down novels and articles, there was a pent up fountain of talent in himself which eventually would come out. His beautiful and thoughtful novels, landmark writing would go on to make him India's upanyas samrat ( novel king). But at that moment, aged thirteen in Gorakhpur, he was unsure of what topic to write on. Very soon a person in his family, presented him with a comical situation which became his first composition.
An unmarried and middle aged uncle of his fell cupid to a low caste chamar woman,Champa. In a society and era when, women were expected to be shy and demure and always covered, here was a lady - coquettish, hair oiled in sesame and eyes rimmed with kohl - blatantly living her sexuality open to the charms of a man. And low caste there too! This is not my opinion, but as expressed by Premchand which in turn is how the society saw the matter that time.
Eventually in a misunderstanding where both the lovers were caught meeting, his uncle was beaten and it became a comical evening. The flabbergasted villagers and the women of the town started yapping and the matter became a standing joke. Premchand too got caught in the audience wave and decided to further the narration in his writing. He developed the tragic comedy into a play which if not popular, then became a favorite of his friends.
Thus a writer was born - thanks to cupid, sesame oil and forbidden love.
No comments:
Post a Comment