Nirmala and Other Stories: Screenplays by Gulzar

Gulzar, Saba Basheer, Saba Basheer, Saba Basheer, Saba Basheer, Saba Basheer, Saba Basheer, Saba Basheer, Saba Basheer, Saba Basheer

• Editore: Roli Books
• Anno: 2017
• ISBN:
  9789351941170
• Argomento: Medien & darstellende Kunst
• Categoria: Filmdrehbücher

Gulzar is one of the best known and acknowledged poet lyricist and director, honoured for his sensitivity, best reflected through his writings and treatment of films. Saba Basheer is a poet, author and a translator. Her first book was a collection of poems, Memory Past (2006) brought out by Writers' Workshop. I Swallowed the Moon: The Poetry of Gulzar (2013), is the analysis of the poetry of Gulzar, which culminated from her PhD thesis, and is now being translated in Hindi and Urdu.

MUNSHI PREMCHAND’S

NIRMALA

and other stories

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MUNSHI PREMCHAND’S

NIRMALA

and other stories

screenplay by

GULZAR

translated by

SABA MAHMOOD BASHIR

ROLI BOOKS

This digital edition published in 2016

First published in 2016 by

The Lotus Collection

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Copyright © Manzarnama, Gulzar

© This translation, Saba Mahmood Bashir

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eISBN: 978-93-5194-117-0

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Hamari

Ganga Jamuni Tehzeeb

Aur

Hindustani Zabaan

Ke Naam

Contents

Nirmala

Boodhi Kaki

Eid Gah

Hajj-e-Akbar

Jyoti

Kafan

Namak ka Daroga

Panch Parmeshwar

Poos Ki Raat

Sawa Ser Gehoon

Swamini

Thakur ka Kuan

Glossary

About the Translator

Nirmala

1

UDAYBHAN WAS A WELL-KNOWN LAWYER OF THE city. Although his house wasn’t that big, people still called it a bungalow. Standing near the gate of the bungalow, a labourer with a hand carriage full of tents and canopies, was peeping here and there. He was unable to read the name plate as it was written in English. A little girl was playing in the veranda inside. Seeing her, he called out.

‘Muniya!’

Hearing a voice, the little girl came running to the gate. The labourer asked her.

‘Is this Vakeel Manji’s bungalow?’

‘It is written on the gate! Can’t you read it?’

The labourer smiled.

‘I wouldn’t have been pulling this cart, Muniya, had I been capable of reading.’

‘My name isn’t Muniya. It is Krishna.’

‘Are you Vakeel saheb’s daughter?’, he asked her, wiping off his sweat with his gamcha.

‘Yes. I am the younger one. The elder one is my didi.’

‘Please get this load taken off the cart. Tell me, where do I offload it? Seth Bhagwandas has sent these tents. Preparations are going on for your didi’s wedding.’

‘That is still a month away. Why has it been sent so early?’

He pulled the hand cart inside.

‘How would I know that, Muniya? …I was ordered, so I…’

Krishna’s mother called out from the veranda.

‘What is it, bhaiyya? …What have you brought?’

‘Sethji has sent the tents, didi.’

Krishna objected.

‘Arre, she is not didi. She is my maa.’

Maa got a little irritated and then instructed,

‘He is anxious for everything… take it there… offload it at the back of the house.’

As instructed, he took the cart towards the back of the house. Mother asked Krishna,

‘Where is Nirmala?’

‘How do I know? She is sitting and hiding at the rooftop.’

‘Go and ask – if she has had anything.’

Saying this, she turned towards the backyard. And Krishna went inside. All of a sudden, maa’s gaze fell on the gate and she noticed that someone was standing, and peeping inside. She called out and asked,

‘Who are you? And why are you standing there?’

‘I am standing in the lane. This isn’t anyone’s property.’

She was surprised hearing this answer, and came a few steps forward.

‘What do you want? Why are you peeping inside?’

He looked like a wrestler, with a lathi in hand. He asked,

‘Where is Vakeel saheb?’

His manner was asking was very disrespectful. Maa replied sternly,

‘He is not in the house.’

‘Where has he gone?’

‘He is not in town… has gone to Lucknow.’

‘When will he return?’

She got irritated.

‘I don’t know. You move on… else I will call the police.’

Unperturbed, the man replied,

‘I am going… tell him when he returns, that Matai had come. Have spent three years in jail because of him.’

Saying this, he turned and went away with brisk steps. The mother went towards the backyard.

2

NIRMALA WAS SITTING ON THE ROOF. SILENT AND sad. Krishna called out as soon as she entered.

‘Didi.’

Quickly, Nirmala wiped her tears.

‘Arre. You are crying again? You are getting married, didi. No one is sending you off to jail.’

Nirmala smiled.

‘You talk a lot, Kishni.’

‘Babuji has got the tents delivered.’

‘Has babuji come?’

‘He will come tomorrow. But he must have ordered before leaving for Lucknow…’

‘Hmmm.’

Nirmala again sat thinking.

‘You are again sitting with a long face! C’mon, let’s go down and play satapo.’

‘I don’t feel like playing.’

‘How come you don’t feel like? You play everyday!’

‘Today, I don’t feel like playing, Krishna.’

‘Achcha. Let satapo be. Come, let’s sit outside and play with gitte.’

Maa walked in with something to eat in a plate. Hearing what Krishna was saying, she added:

‘Now the days to play gitte and satapo are over. Such things are not accepted at the in-laws. Such pleasures can only be enjoyed at the parents’ house.’

‘Why? …Marriage doesn’t mean that one stops enjoying life.’

Maa kept the plate in front of Nirmala.

‘Eat something. I have made ghuginee for you.’

She fed a spoon to Krishna and then to Nirmala. Krishna spoke up,

‘If such is the case, I will never go to my susral.’

‘Everyone says the same thing. But then, everyone has to go.’

Maa addressed Nirmala,

‘You are already looking so pale. What will happen to you in a month’s time?’

‘When will babuji come, maa?’

‘Why are you so worried? He will return by tomorrow. He had gone for some of his work. He stayed on for a day at the samdhis insistence. Mohan too had to return from the hostel. Would meet him and return.’

‘Who is Mohan, maa?’

‘Your jija… Bhuvan Mohan.’

As Nirmala smiled, Krishna pulled her leg,

‘Didi, will you address him as Bhuvan or Mohan?’

Nirmala smiled and replied,

‘Bhuvan Mohan.’

Maa laughed out,

‘Don’t call out his name in the susral. They are very traditional in their outlook....