“What will We Do by Talking Now?”(Memories of the Past )

                                                                                                                              (a translation)

                                                                                                                                                                                                                              It was in1958.I was doing   diploma of Fine Arts from Art School, Shimla . There were total 18 students in our class, half of them were boys and rest were girls. Whenever there was our Still Life period, it lasted for at least one weak. Initially, we had to draw rough outline of our Model with charcoal sticks. Most of the times, our models had been some elder Himachali men or some porters . Subsequently, with approval of our professors, we had to fill oil colors in these rough sketches. In this period, the adjacent easel to mine one was always used to be of Likkhi. As I was weak in Drawings, every time when there was an error she used to make corrections. Whilemaking the corrections, she would mutter and instruct me to have some rhyme and flow in the lines. Other boys did not like that (it was 1958)! This and that way, they ridiculed us. One day I was sipping coffee in our canteen. One boy of our class shouted loudly to others in a taunting tone to ask that buddy from Moga(while pointing towards me,) had there came any flow in the lines or not. I did not like that taunt. Though I preferred to avoid them that day, but it was becoming impossible for me to tolerate their nonsense anymore.

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So one day I decided to discuss this problem with Lakkhi. I requested her to come aside. While she came but objected to my hesitation and calling her aside in that manner. I told that there was such a compulsion. I narrated her all the issue and about the comments that our classmates were making about us. She listened me calmly and moaned if problem was to those boys or to me with her positioning easel with mine one. I clarified that not only I liked it but loved it. “Rather, ,it gives me pleasure but I feel teased with taunts and comments of our classmates”. She asked in an annoyed tone if I was frightened by those conservative classmates or really did not liked her placing hers easel there. It was a delicate matter of sacred relationship, she said. Then she shared a secret admitting that it might be morally wrong but she had read my father's letter to me from my drawer and without my knowledge. In that letter my father had mentioned about our unsound economic condition and that it was very difficult for him to bear the expanses of our six brother's and sister's education. He had advised me to take care of my studies and to be friendly with my classmates and particularly had mentioned to be respectful to my girl classmates and had forbidden strongly to think anything wrong about them. After mentioning all these things she asked me emphatically to answer her question. I could not think anything. She repeated herself but I kept silent. All the sudden, Likkhi picked her easel and fled in the rear of our class. “If you do not want to talk, I will take care of myself , “I could hear her murmur.

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Following that day, neither she placed her easel with me nor talked to me during four years course. Even during outdoor sketching, she never went outside with me. Rest of boys and girls used to make pairs while going out. Then came the day, when our diploma ended and we had to leave for our homes. On the last day, Likkhi did not even attended the farewell party. I was full of remorse. I cursed my shyness and that I had been the same villager even after studying in Shimla. I thought that the Delhite girl was braver than I. I left the party in the middle and returned to my room to fell over my bed. Four years ago the mistake I had made was rankling me bitterly. My eyes were wet.

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The same evening when it was round seven o'clock, Ramaa came to my room and commanded me to get ready quickly. We were to go at the Mall to dine in Balji, she declared and added that Likkhi would be there. In fact, that dinner was arranged by Lakkhi. Why she did that, I do not know. We went there. She was already there. I greeted her but she did not answer. Nor she looked at me. Dinner was over. She paid the bill. When she picked her purse and was about to leave, Ramaa halted her and pleaded her to talk with my at least in the last time. We did not know we would meet or not all along our life, she argued. Likkhi replied , with a mix of anger and tearfulness that where as four years had passed without talking with each other, the life would pass too. “And what will we do by talking now ?”,she lashed and fled out of Balji.

                                                                                (originally by Pritam Singh Brar, punjabi tribune)

hi friendz,

I am learning English. As a part of my practise, I have translated this story. If you find any spelling or grammatical mistakes, plz. make suggestions.

Plz. comment on this story too.

hello, the story is really interesting… why did not you try to iron out the situation?

This is not mine story, it is a translation.

In countries like India, where feudal value system still prevails to a larger extent, love is not an easy thing to do.It is not like Europe, you like each other, date and then marry. It can be fatal. One has to care about religion,caste,language and above all economics.

Though, things are not same everywhere .The scenario is different in metros and urban India but not in the rural India. In 1958, when this story happened, there was much conservatism in our society.

absolutely agree… everything depends on conditions… sometimes it is imposible to step it over and do what you want..

Have you ever had any situation in your life where you were restricted with some circumstances?

take good thing from ur past, forget all pain of the past…