Online Study Material By Mudassir Ali Rizvi
Class: 12 Subject: English Core
Book: Flamingo
Chapter 2 – Lost Spring – Stories of Stolen Childhood Author: Anees Jung
Content:
➢ Summary with detailed explanation of the short story.
➢ Meanings of the difficult words.
➢ Exercises and questions & answers.
Themes:
➢ Poverty
➢ Illiteracy
➢ Unemployment
➢ Child Labour
➢ Exploitation
➢ Callousness of the efficient people
About the Author:
Anees Jung
Born in 1944, Rourkela, Odhisha, India Lives in Delhi
Anees Jung received her education in Hyderabad and in the United States of America. Her parents were both writers. She began her career as a writer in India. She has been an editor and columnist for major newspapers in India and abroad, and she has authored several books. Her most noted work, Unveiling India (1987) was a detailed chronicle of the lives of women in India.
Introduction:
‘Lost Spring – Stories of Stolen Childhood’ is the title of a collection of stories written by Anees Jung.
This lesson is an excerpt from the above mentioned book. It contains two stories. Taking two of her stories with the same title this lesson has been framed to make the students acquainted with the pain of poor people. Titles of the stories are:
• Sometimes I find a rupee in the garbage
• I want to drive a car
This title ‘Lost Spring’ has symbolic meanings. Spring is the best season, best period of year; similarly, childhood is the best period of life. So, here ‘Lost Spring’ means lost childhood, the childhood which has been lost, which has been snatched, exploited, curtailed and thrown into the dungeons of poverty.
‘Stories of stolen childhood’ means stories of the exploited childhood or stories of the children who were exploited and were deprived of their childhood.
Chief Characters:
➢ Saheb-e-Alam: A ragpicking boy, A boy who deals with garbage in Delhi
➢ Mukesh : A boy from Firozabad who works in bangle industry
➢ Anees Jung : Author herself
Background:
This title ‘Lost Spring’ has symbolic meanings. Spring is the best season, best period of year; similarly, childhood is the best period of life. So, here ‘Lost Spring’ means lost childhood, the childhood which has been lost, which has been snatched, exploited, curtailed and thrown into the dungeons of poverty.
‘Stories of stolen childhood’ means stories of the exploited childhood or stories of the children who were exploited and were deprived of their childhood.
The background of the first story is set in Seemapuri, a slum locality of Delhi. It is in the form of an interaction between author and Saheb-e-Alam. Saheb-e-Alam, despite having a wish to go to school, is bound to deal with garbage, to be a ragpicker to earn his bread and butter.
The background of second story is set in Firozabad which is the centre of India’s glass blowing industry.
Mukesh, The central character of this story, aspires to drive a car. He wants to become a motor mechanic but against his will he is bound to work in bangle industry.
Summary:
The author tells us stories of her interactions with children from deprived backgrounds. She describes their poor condition and life in a thought provoking manner. Both the stories touch the readers.
The author described two of her interactions with children from deprived backgrounds. Through them she wants to highlight the plight of street children forced into labour early in life and are denied the opportunity of schooling. Also, she brings out the callousness of society and the political class towards the suffering of the poor.
In the first story she encounters with a ragpicking boy named Saheb-e-Alam whose family migrated from Bangladesh in 1971 and lives in Seemapuri, Delhi. These ragpicking children look for ‘valuables’ in the garbage – things like a coin or torn shoes which are as precious as ‘gold’ for them.
They could hardly manage some food for themselves, other things like identity, education, shoes and sports are their unfulfilled dreams. Their parents scrounged the garbage searching for things which helped them survive – afford food, food, clothing and shelter for the family. The children hunted through the garbage heaps looking for things which could partially fulfill their unfulfilled dreams.
One day the writer saw the boy, holding a steel can, going towards the milk booth. He had got a job at a tea stall. He was happy that he would get eight hundred rupees and all the meals. The writer noticed that Saheb had lost the freedom of being his own master which he had enjoyed earlier as a ragpicker.
In the second story she encounters Mukesh who belonged to a family of bangle makers in Firozabad.
The boy had a dream of becoming a car mechanic. On the contrary, his family was traditionally engaged in bangle making, although the profession harmed them and they hardly earned any money out of it.
Still, no one dared to dream something else due to the fear of the police and middleman. The family elders were content that other than teaching the art of bangle-making to their children, they had been able to build them a house to live in. The boy wanted to be a car mechanic. He was ready to do anything to be a car mechanic.
Reading and Explanation
Story 1- ‘Sometimes I find a rupee in the garbage’
Text- “Why do you do this?” I ask Saheb whom I encounter every morning scrounging for gold in the garbage dumps of my neighborhood. Saheb left his home long ago. Set amidst the green fields of Dhaka, his home is not even a distant memory. There were many storms that swept away their fields and homes, his mother tells him. That’s why they left, looking for gold in the big city where he now lives.
Scrounging: Searching for, looking for Amidst : In the middle of
Explanation- Every morning, the writer sees a young ragpicking boy who visits the garbage dump near her house and searches for ‘gold’ in it. The writer says that he searches for ‘gold’ ironically because although the garbage dump is full of useless, thrown away things, still he shuffles it so minutely as if he will get something as precious as ‘gold’ from it. The boy’s name is Saheb. His home in Dhaka was in the
middle of lush green fields. They had left it many years ago and he does not remember it anymore. His mother had told him that there were many storms which destroyed their homes and fields. So, they left their home and shifted to this big city in search of ‘gold’. Whatever useful and worth selling they could find in garbage was ‘gold’ for them. The writer asks to the ragpicking boy that why does he do that.
Text- “I have nothing else to do,” he mutters looking away.
“Go to school,” I say glibly, realizing immediately how hollow the advice must sound.
“There is no school in my neighbourhood. When they build one, I will go.”
“If I start a school, will you come?” I ask, half-joking.
“Yes,” he says, smiling broadly.
A few days later I see him running up to me. “Is your school ready?”
“It takes longer to build a school,” I say, embarrassed at having made a promise that was not meant. But promises like mine abound in every corner of his bleak world.
Mutters : Speaks in a low voice
Glibly : Speaking in a careless manner, in a slippery manner Hollow : Empty, vain, useless, meaningless
Embarrassed: Feeling ashamed
Abound : Exist in plenty, in abundance, in large number Bleak : Dark, hopeless
Explanation- Saheb replies to the writer that he has nothing else to do other than ragpicking. The writer suggests that he should go to school. She realizes that her advice is meaningless for the poor boy. He replies that there are no schools in the area where he lives. He also assures her that he will go to school when one is built in his neighbourhood. The writer asks him jokingly, without any intention of opening a school that if she opened a school would he attend it. Saheb says that he would join the writer’s school and after a few days, he runs up to her to ask whether her school is ready. The writer made excuse that it takes a lot of time to start a school. She felt ashamed at making a false promise. She had said this as a joke and had never intended to open a school, so she felt ashamed of herself. Saheb was not hurt because he was used to of such false promises as they existed in large numbers in his dark and hopeless world. He was surrounded by such false promises made by everyone around him.
Text- After months of knowing him, I ask him his name. “Saheb-e-Alam,” he announces. He does not know what it means. If he knew its meaning – lord of the universe – he would have hard time believing it. Unaware of what his name represents, he roams the streets with his friends, an army of barefoot
boys who appear like the morning birds and disappear at noon. Over the months, I have come to recognize each of them.
He would have hard time believing it: It would be difficult for him to believe that his name meant ‘the Lord of the Universe’
Barefoot : Without footwear
Explanation- The writer had known Saheb for months when she asked him his name. he replied as if he was making an announcement that his name was Saheb-e-Alam. The writer thought that the boy did not know the meaning of his name and if he came to know that his name meant ‘Lord of the Universe’ he would not be able to believe it. His name was opposite to his life. He went around the streets with a group of friends. It was like an army of boys who did not have any footwear. They appeared in the morning like the morning birds and disappeared at noon. The writer could recognize all of them as she had been seeing them for the past few months.
Text- “Why aren’t you wearing chappals?” I ask one.
“My mother did not bring them down from the shelf,” he answers simply.
“Even if she did he will throw them off,” adds another who is wearing shoes that do not match. When I comment on it, he shuffles his feet and says nothing.
“I want shoes,” says a third boy who has never owned a pair all his life. Travelling across the country I have seen children walking barefoot, in cities, on village roads. It is not lack of money but a tradition to stay barefoot, is one explanation. I wonder if this is only an excuse to explain away a perpetual state of poverty.
Shuffles : Tries to hide one with the other, shifts or move the position Excuse : A reason to justify the fault
Perpetual: Continuous, never ending
Explanation- The writer asked one of them that why was he not wearing any footwear. The boy simply replied that his mother did not get them down from the shelf. As they were beyond his reach, he did not wear them.
Another boy who was wearing mismatching shoes said that even if his mother would have given him the footwear, he would have thrown it away. The writer asked the second boy the reason for wearing a different shoe in each foot. He did not reply and tried to hide one foot behind the other.
A third boy spoke that he was eager to get a pair shoes as he had never owned a pair of shoe all his life.
The writer takes the example of shoes to highlight the condition of these boys. The writer further tells us that as she travelled across the country, she had seen many children walking barefoot in the cities as well as the villages. The authorities for child development and public welfare reasoned that they were barefoot not due to lack of money to buy footwear, but being barefoot was a tradition for them. The writer thought in herself that it was only an excuse to turn the eyes away from the harsh reality of continuous and never ending poverty.
Text- I remember a story a man from Udipi once told me. As a young boy he would go to school past an old temple, where his father was a priest. He would stop briefly at the temple and pray for a pair of shoes.
Thirty years later I visited his town and the temple, which was now drowned in an air of desolation. In the backyard, where lived the new priest, there were red and white plastic chairs. A young boy dressed in grey uniform, wearing socks and shoes, arrived panting and threw his school bag on a folding bed.
Looking at the boy, I remembered the prayer another boy had made to the goddess when he had finally got a pair of shoes, “Let me never lose them.” The goddess had granted his prayer. Young boys like the son of priest now wore shoes. But many others like the ragpickers in my neighbourhood remain shoeless.
Desolation: The state of being empty Panting : Breathing heavily
Explanation- The writer narrates a story told to her by a man from Udipi. (Udipi is a town in Karnataka.) When he was a young boy, he would walk to his school. On the way, he would cross a temple where his father worked as a priest. He would stop at the temple and pray to God to bless him with a pair of shoes. After thirty years the writer visited the town and the temple. Now the place was almost in ruins and nearly empty. The new priest lived in the backyard of the temple. Plastic chairs in red and white colours were kept there. A young boy came running. He was wearing grey coloured school uniform, socks and shoes. He had a school bag hung on his shoulders. He threw it on the bed and ran away. The writer wants to say that the financial position of the priest at the temple has improved over the last thirty years. Now, he could afford shoes for his children. She was reminded of the previous boy who after so many prayers finally got a pair of shoes. When the first wish was fulfilled he prayed to the goddess that he may never lose the shoes that he had got. The goddess had granted his prayer as the boy never lost his footwear and remained with that footwear only during his entire lifetime. though the
conditions of priest’s children have improved yet at the same time there are so many other children like ragpickers who remain without footwear.
Text- My acquaintance with the barefoot ragpickers leads me to Seemapuri, a place on periphery of Delhi yet miles away from it, metaphorically. Those who live here are squatters who came from Bangladesh back in 1971. Saheb’s family is among them. Seemapuri was then a wilderness. It still is, but it is no longer empty. In structures of mad, with roofs of tin and tarpaulin, devoid of sewage drainage or running water, live 10,000 ragpickers.
Acquaintance : Contact Periphery : Outer area Metaphorically: Symbolically
Squatters : Illegal settlers, persons who unlawfully occupies an unoccupied land Wilderness : A wasteland
Tarpaulin : Heavy duty waterproof cloth
Explanation- The writer describes the area where these ragpickers live. Seemapuri located on the outskirts of Delhi is very different from the capital of the country. The people who live here (ragpickers) are illegal possessioners. In 1971 when these ragpickers had migrated from Bangladesh, the area had been a wasteland. It is still a wasteland but now it is no more empty as almost ten thousand ragpickers live here in houses made of mud, with roofs of tin sheets or tarpaulin. There is no sewage, drainage or running water facility in Seemapuri. They live in unhygienic conditions.
Text- They have lived here for more than thirty years without an identity, without permits but with ration cards that get their names on voters’ lists and enable them to buy grain. Food is more important for survival than an identity. “If at the end of the day we can feed our families and go to bed without an
aching stomach, we would rather live here than in fields that gave us no grain,” say a group of women in tattered saris when I ask them why they left their beautiful land of green fields and rivers.
Permits : Legal documents Tattered: Torn
Explanation- The ragpickers had been living illegally in Seemapuri for last thirty years. They have occupied the area without government permission or ownership. They have no identity and legal document to live there. The politicians for their own benefit have provided them with the ration cards.
These ration cards enable them to cast their vote. They get grocery for their families through these ration cards. The writer asked a group of women who were wearing torn saris that why did they leave their homes in Dhaka. They replied that if they were able to satisfy the hunger of their families and sleep well at night, they were happier to live in Seemapuri than their fields in Dhaka which were ruined and gave them no food.
Text- Wherever they find food, they pitch their tents that become transit homes. Children grow up in them, becoming partners in survival. And survival in Seemapuri means ragpicking. Through the years, it has acquired the proportions of a fine art. Garbage to them is gold. It is their daily bread, a roof over their heads, even if it is leaking roof. But for a child it is even more.
Transit homes: Temporary homes
Explanation- These people travel in search of food and wherever find it, they set up their tent there.
Their children keep on growing there and gradually, they also start helping their parents in seeking means of survival. For those who live in Seemapuri, the means of survival is ragpicking. As they are doing it for so many years they have become trained at ragpicking and do it well. For the ragpickers the garbage is as precious as gold. These families search in the garbage dumps and get things which they sell to fund their food. They gather torn or damaged sheets which they use to cover the roof of their homes.
These do not cover them well but still provide them with some protection. For the children, the garbage dumps are more than survival.
Text- “I sometimes find a rupee, even a ten-rupee note,” Saheb says, his eyes lighting up. When you can find a silver coin in heap of garbage you don’t stop scrounging, for there is hope of finding more. It seems that for children, garbage has a meaning different from what it means to their parents. For the children it is wrapped in wonder, for the elders it is means of survival.
Explanation- Saheb was happy to say that sometimes he found a rupee and even a ten-rupee note in the dump. As if anybody finds a silver coin in the garbage dump, he keeps on searching in a hope to find more. For the children, the garbage dumps wrapped in themselves adventures, experience and education. For elders it was means of survival but for children it was something more than mere survival.
Text- One winter morning I see Saheb standing by the fenced gate of the neighbourhood club, watching two young men dressed in white, playing tennis. “I like the game,” he hums; content to watch it
standing behind the fence. “I go inside when no one is around,” he admits. “The gatekeeper lets me use the swing.”
Content: Satisfied
Explanation- One winter morning the writer saw sahib standing by the fence of a club. He was watching a Tennis game played by two rich and civilized young men. Saheb liked the game but could not play it.
He told the writer that he went inside the club when it would be closed. He was allowed to take swings by the guard there.
Text- Saheb too is wearing tennis shoes that look strange over his discoloured shirt and shorts.
“Someone gave them to me,” he says in the manner of an explanation. The fact that they are discarded shoes of some rich boy, who perhaps refused to wear them because of a hole in one of them, does not bother him. For one who has walked barefoot, even shoes with a hole is a dream come true. But the game he is watching so intently is out of his reach.
Discarded: Given up, thrown away Bother : Worry
Explanation- The writer saw Saheb was also wearing tennis shoes. They did not look appropriate with his dress which was worn out and had faded. He told the writer in an attempt to justify himself that someone gave him the shoes. They must have been given away by a boy from a rich family as he did not want to wear it anymore. Probably they had a hole or two in them due to which he did not want to wear them. On the contrary, Saheb was not bothered by this fact and had no problem wearing them as he could not afford anything better than that. He always walked barefoot and to wear a shoe even with a hole was like a dream come true for him. Although due to the garbage dumps, saheb’s dream of wearing shoes had been partially fulfilled but his desire to play tennis would never be fulfilled.
Text- This morning Saheb is on his way to milk booth. In his hand is a steel canister. “I now work in a tea stall down the road,” he says, pointing in the distance. “I am paid 800 rupees and all my meals.” Does he like the job? I ask. His face, I see, has lost the carefree look. The steel canister seems heavier than the plastic bag he would carry so light over his shoulder. The bag was his. The canister belongs to the man who owns the tea shop. Saheb is no longer his own master.
Explanation- One morning the writer met Saheb who was on his way to the milk booth. He was holding a steel container. He told the writer that he had got a job at the nearby tea stall. He would earn 800 rupees a month and get all the three meals. The writer asked him if he liked the job as she could see that he had lost the carefree look. As now Saheb was working for someone else and was carrying his master’s container, he was burdened with responsibility. Earlier, as a ragpicker, Saheb would carry his own bag and was his own master. Now, he was no longer his own master. He was a child labour now.
Story 2- ‘I want to drive a car’
Text- Mukesh insists on being his own master. “I will be a motor mechanic,” he announces.
“Do you know anything about the cars?” I ask.
Explanation- The writer met a boy named Mukesh who aspired to become a motor mechanic. Forcefully he stated before the writer that he would be a motor mechanic. She asked him if he knew anything about cars.
Text- “I will learn to drive a car,” he answers, looking straight into my eyes. His dream looms like a mirage amidst the dust of streets that fills his town Firozabad, famous for its bangles. Every other family in Firozabad is engaged in making bangles. It is the centre of India’s glass-blowing industry where families have spent generations working around furnaces, welding glass, making bangles for all the women in the land it seems.
Looms: Disappears Mirage: Hallucination Amidst: In the middle of
Glass-blowing Industry: Glass molding industry
Furnace: A closed room or container where heat is produced Welding: Joining pieces of metal or glass by heating them
Explanation- The boy was confident and replied that he would learn to drive a car. His dream and the dreams of boys like Mukesh disappear in the dusty streets of Firozabad like mirage disappears.
Firozabad is famous for it’s bangles. The occupation of every other family in Firozabad is making bangles.
Firozabad is the centre of India’s glass molding industry. Here in Firozabad families for generations have continuously worked around the furnaces. Welding glass they make bangles for all the women of the world.
Text- Mukesh’s family is among them. None of them know that it is illegal for children like him to work in the glass furnaces with high temperatures, in dingy cells without air and light; that the law, if enforced, could get him and all those 20,000 children out of the hot furnaces where they slog their daylight hours, often losing the brightness of their eyes.
Dingy cells: Dark rooms Slog: Toil, work hard
Explanation- Mukesh’s family was also involved in the profession of glass bangle-making. They were not aware of the law. They didn’t know that it was unlawful to force children to work in such glass furnaces.
The work places were hot dark closed rooms without ventilation. The writer felt that if the law would come into force, it would rescue Mukesh and almost all the twenty thousand children like him from these inhuman places where they were forced to work hard for the whole day. Working here in these furnaces they often ended up losing their eyesight.
Text- Mukesh’s eyes beam as he volunteers to take me home, which he proudly says is being rebuilt.
We walk down stinking lanes choked with garbage, past homes that remain hovels with crumbling walls, wobbly doors, no windows, crowded with families of humans and animals coexisting in a primeval state.
He stops at the door of one such house, bangs a wobbly iron door with his foot, and pushes it open.
Beam : Shine brightly Volunteer: Guides willingly Stinking : Bad smelling Choked : Blocked
Hovels : Shades, huts, slums
Crumbling: Weak, cracked, falling down Wobbly : Unstable, unsteady
Coexisting: Existing together Primeval : Ancient, prehistoric Bangs : Hits
Explanation- Mukesh was happy as he took the writer to his house. Proudly he informed her that it was being renovated. Going towards Mukesh’s house they walked down streets which were full of garbage and gave foul smell. The streets were lined with slums which had weak and withered walls, wobbly doors, there were no windows and were full of families where people lived along with animals. They reminded the writer of the prehistoric man who lived just like animals. Mukesh stopped in front of one such door, hit it hard with his foot and pushed it open.
Text- We enter a half-built shack. In one part of it, thatched with dead grass, is a firewood stove over which sits a large vessel of sizzling spinach leaves. On the ground, in large aluminum platters are more chopped vegetables. A frail young woman is cooking evening meal for the whole family. Through eyes filled with smoke she smiles. She is wife of Mukesh’s elder brother. Not much older in years, she has begun to command respect as the bahu, the daughter-in-law of the house, already in charge of three men – her husband, Mukesh and their father.
Shack: A roughly built hut Thatched: Covered
Vessel: Container or pot for cooking food Sizzling: Boiling
Platters: Large plates Frail: Thin, weak
Explanation- The house where Mukesh lived was a half built hut. One corner of the house was covered with dead grass and this portion had a firewood stove. On the stove in a pot spinach leaves were boiling.
On the ground there were more plates with chopped vegetables in them. There was a thin, young woman, cooking the evening meal for the family. Her eyes were full of the smoke emanating from the stove but to welcome the guest in house she cheerfully smiled. She was wife of Mukesh’s elder brother.
Though she was not much older in her age yet she became a bahu – daughter in law of the house; the house which was taken care by three persons – Mukesh, Mukesh’s elder brother and their father.
Text- When the older man enters, she gently withdraws behind the broken wall and brings her veil closer to her face. As custom demands, daughters-in-law must veil their faces before male elders. In this case the elder is an impoverished bangle maker. Despite long years of hard labour, first as a tailor, then a bangle maker, he has failed to renovate a house, send his two sons to school. All he has managed to do is teach them what he knows – the art of making bangles.
Withdraws : Goes back
Veil : A piece of cloth worn by women to protect or hide the face, cover or hide Impoverished: Very poor
Explanation- As Mukesh’s father entered the house, the daughter-in-law hid behind the wall and covered her face behind her veil. It was a tradition for the daughter-in-laws to hide their face in the presence of the older male members of the family. The elder here in this family was a poor bangle maker. He had worked hard all his life – first as a tailor, then as a bangle maker. Despite doing such a hard work in his life, he was still not able to either renovate the house or send his sons to school. He had just managed to teach them the skill he himself knew – the skill of making bangles.
Text- “It is his karam, his destiny,” says Mukesh’s grandmother, who has watched her own husband go blind with the dust from polishing the glass bangles. “Can a god-given lineage ever be broken?” she implies.
Lineage: Tradition, arrangement
Implies: Suggests something in an indirect way
Explanation
-
Mukesh’s grandmother justified her son’s profession by saying that he was destined to make bangles as it had been their family profession. She had seen her husband become blind due to the dust from polishing the glass bangles. She said that their family had got this art of bangle making from God and so they had to carry on the tradition.Text- Born in the caste of bangle makers, they have seen nothing but bangles – in the house, in the yard, in every other house, in every other yard, every street in Firozabad. Spirals of bangles – sunny gold, paddy green, royal blue, pink, purple, every colour born out of the seven colours of the rainbow – lie in mounds in unkempt yards, are piled on four wheeled handcarts, pushed by young men along the narrow lanes of the shanty town.
Yard: The open area at the back of the house Mounds: Heaps
Unkempt: unmanaged, unorganized, messy, not taken care of Piled: kept one on the top of the other
Shanty town: A town of slums, a town of hutments
Explanation- They were born in a particular caste which had to follow the profession of bangle making.
All their life they had just seen these glass bangles. They were everywhere – in the backyard, in their house, in neighbour’s backyard, in neighbour’s house, in every street of Firozabad. There were huge spiral bunches of bangles kept piled up in these unmanaged and dirty yards. There were bangles of all the colours of rainbow. Bangles could be seen dumped on the handcarts in every street of Firozabad pushed by the young men.
Text- And in dark hutments, next to the lines of flames of flickering oil lamps, sit boys and girls with their fathers and mothers, welding pieces of coloured glass into circles of bangles. Their eyes are more adjusted to the dark than to the light outside. That is why they often end up losing their eyesight before they become adults.
Explanation- The writer describes the environment where these bangle makers work. They were small, dark huts. The children would sit next to a line of oil lamps whose flames were unsteady. They, along with their parents joined the pieces of coloured glass into circles called bangles. As they spent a lot time in the dark, their eyes were more adapt to darkness than to the bright sunlight. Many of them lost their eyesight before becoming adult.
Text- Savita a young girl in a drab pink dress sits alongside an elderly woman, soldering pieces of glass.
As her hands move mechanically like the tongs of a machine, I wonder if she knows the sanctity of the bangles she helps make. It symbolizes an Indian woman’s suhaag, auspiciousness in marriage.
Drab : Faded Soldering : Joining
Tongs : An instrument with two moveable arms joined at one end Sanctity : Holiness
Auspiciousness: Sacredness
Explanation- There was a young girl by the name of Savita. She wore a faded pink dress. She was sitting with an elderly woman and they were joining pieces of glass to make bangles. The way her hands were moving mechanically, the writer wondered whether she could understand the holiness of those bangles she was making. Bangles are the symbol of the sacredness in the marriage.
Text- It will dawn on her suddenly one day when her head is draped with a red veil, her hands dyed red with henna, and red bangles rolled onto her wrists. She will then become a bride. Like the old woman beside her who became one many years ago. She still has bangles on her wrist, but no light in her eyes.
Dawn on her: Will come in her knowledge Draped : Covered
Explanation- She thought Savita would realise this when she would cover her head with a red coloured veil, colour her hands with henna and wear red colored bangles on her wrist. Then she would become a
bride like the elderly woman who was sitting on her side. The elderly woman sitting next to Savita also became a bride many years ago. She was still wearing bangles in her wrist. Her husband was alive but there was no light in her eyes, there was no hope of good life in her eyes.
Text- “Ek waqt ser bhar khana bhi nahi khaya,” she says in a voice drained of joy. She has not enjoyed even one full meal in her entire lifetime. – that’s what she has reaped! Her husband, an old man with a flowing beard, says, “I know nothing except bangles. All I have done is make a house for the family to live in.
Ser: A unit of measuring quantity Reaped: Received as a result
Explanation- The elderly woman complained that she had not eaten even a Ser of food. The woman wants to say that they were badly poor that during their entire lifetime they couldn’t enjoy a good satisfactory meal. This was the result of their hard work in this profession. The woman’s husband had a flowing beard. He said that despite knowing nothing than the bangle making, all that he could do with this profession, all that he could accomplish, was that house where they lived.
Text- Hearing him one wonders if he has achieved what many have failed in their lifetime. He has a roof over his head.
Explanation- The writer wonders that probably the old man has achieved something which many others have not been able to achieve. At least he has been able to secure a shelter for his family.
Text- The cry of not having money to do anything except carry on the business of making bangles, not even enough to eat, rings in every home. The young men echo the lament of their elders. Little has moved with time, it seems, in Firozabad. Years of mind-numbing toil have killed all initiative and the ability to dream.
Rings : Echoes
Echo : Repeatedly cry Lament : Complaint
Mind-Numbing toil: Mind-killing, mind-stopping struggle Initiative : The ability to start something new
Explanation- The problem was prevalent in all the homes which carried on that profession. They did nit know anything else other than bangle-making and it did not provide them enough to eat. The young men who had entered the traditional profession also had the same complaint. With the passing of time there was very less improvement in their condition. As they had been doing hard work for countless number of years, they did not have any ability to do something else or to dream of it. Their minds were freezed due to this unending struggle.
Text- “Why not organize yourselves into a cooperative?” I ask a group of young men who have fallen into the vicious circle of middlemen who trapped their fathers and forefathers. “Even if we get organized, we are the ones who will be hauled up by the police, beaten and dragged to jail for doing something illegal,” they say. There is no leader among them, no one who could help them see things differently. Their fathers are as tired as they are.
Vicious: Wicked, cruel
Hauled up: Dragged, taken away
Explanation- The writer asked the young men, who had become the victim of the wicked game of brokers or middlemen, that why didn’t they form their association or union and their reply was if they made their association they themselves would be falsely charged by the police and they would be taken away, beaten and thrown into prison by the police. They had no leader. Even their fathers couldn’t help them. Their fathers were also as hopeless with the system as they themselves were.
Text- They talk endlessly in a spiral that moves from poverty to apathy to greed to injustice.
Listening to them, I see two distinct worlds – one of the family, caught in a web of poverty, burdened by the stigma of caste in which they are born; the other a vicious circle of the sahukars, the middleman, the policemen, the keepers of law, the bureaucrats and the politicians. Together they have imposed the baggage on a child that he cannot put down. Before he is aware, he accepts it naturally as his father.
Spiral : Round and round
Apathy : Carelessness of the people Distinct : Separate
Stigma : Dishonor, dark blot Bureaucrats: Government officials Imposed : Forced upon
Baggage : Burden
Explanation- These children continuously talked in an unending manner. They had much to complain about. They complained about poverty, apathy, greed and injustice. The writer envisioned that there were two separate worlds – one was of such families who were stuck in poverty and bearing the burden of their traditional profession given to them by their caste. In the other world there were wicked middlemen, moneylenders, policemen, government officials and politicians. These corrupt people together had forced upon the children the burden of family traditions. The young children before becoming aware of it fell prey of the vicious circle. They accepted it as their father did.
Text- To do anything else would mean to dare. And daring is not the part of his growing up. When I sense a flash of it in Mukesh I am cheered. “I want to be a motor mechanic,” he repeats. He will go to
the garage and learn. But the garage is long way from his home. “I will walk,” he insists. “Do you also dream of flying a plane?” He is suddenly silent. “No,” he says, staring at the ground. In his small murmur there is an embarrassment that has not yet turned into regret. He is content to dream of cars that he sees hurtling down the streets of his town. Few airplanes fly over Firozabad.
Hurtling down: Moving around
Explanation- To do anything else would need to be bold and brave and boldness and bravery was not inculcated in him by his parents. Even then when the writer saw a spark of daring in Mukesh she became happy. Once again he repeated that he would be a motor mechanic. He wanted to go to a garage and learn the job. Though the garage was at distance from his home yet Mukesh insisted to walk up to it.
She asked him if he dreamt of flying planes. The boy became silent and refused. Though few airplanes also flew over Firozabad yet he was satisfied having the dreams of cars which move around in Firozabad.
