KANIKA ATTRI, WAYS OF READING END TERM PAPER

2. Fiction: Using 2000 to 2500 words, write a short-story in which there is a substantial co-presence of English along with one or more non-English languages. In case these non-English languages happen to be other than Hindi (in Devanagri or Roman script), Urdu (in Nastaliq or Roman script) or Punjabi (in Roman script), do provide the translation of the non-English passages as footnotes.

Shakti

It was dark in the night when the sleeping walls woke up once again; in the dark the walls couldn’t see anything but had the sense of what was going on in the dark room, ‘kabhi kabhi deevaro ke sirf kaan hi nahi jazbaat bhi hote hain bhale hi vo jazbaat aaj insano me kam hain’. The slow sounds of something falling and getting up could be heard, the walls did not sleep the whole night nor did the couple.

Mr and Mrs Khanna live in a big house in Karol Bagh, the place has this hustle and bustle all the time in the market and so is the house of Khannas. In the Khanna mansion lives Mr Sunil Khanna with his wife Mrs Gauri Khanna, who is very fond of the song “Mai zindagi ka sath nibhata chala gaya” and a daughter Shakti, who is fourteen years old. The family has a very good reputation in the neighborhood, the image of being a wealthy Punjabi family, living their life to the fullest, with khulle vichaar and dher sara pyaar.

Shakti, the daughter of Gauri is in 10th standard and is in school right now, while sitting in the class she hears a shout and gets back to her consciousness, the teacher is shouting at her for not paying attention in the class unknown to the reason that she did not sleep for the past few nights, Shakti sits strong in her seat clutching at her pen and asks the teacher “Ma’am can I got to the washroom?”, teacher grants her permission with an annoyed look. Shakti’s teachers always complain about her distracted and weird behaviour in the class to her parents in the parent’s teacher meet about which they never do anything because they cannot. Shakti goes to the washroom and looks into the mirror and look at her eye bags which are filled with sleep, turning the water tap on she washes her face and thinks about the last weekend when she couldn’t sleep and the coming weekend which is tomorrow. Every weekend is her and her father’s off.

After washing her face she returns to the class without taking the permission of her teacher, she goes and sits on her desk. After few hours about which Shakti has no idea, the chutti ring bells and the students run towards the door of the school along with their friends planning their weekends, Shakti does not run but walks slowly towards her mother, Gauri. “Papa ghar par hain, mummy?” asks Shakti to which Gauri replies “yes beta” with a smile, Shakti too smiles seeing Gauri smile.

It is Friday night and tomorrow is an off for both the father and the daughter, a time that they can spend with each other properly. Shakti sits in her room and is busy doing her homework at 11:30pm, when she hears the sound that the walls hear all the time, she sits scared in her room in the corner, these sounds have been troubling her since her childhood even when she was four or five she could hear something which she could not figure out what was it exactly but she never thought of figuring it out what kind of voices are they, somehow today she takes the courage and with curiosity goes towards her parent’s room to find out what kind of voices are they. Peeping into the room to see what is happening she touches the wall which is warm even in the winter night, it seems as if the wall too were a spectator watching a movie full of suspense. She sees a strange figure of her parents hugging each other, it seems like that at least to her and the walls again ignored what all was happening with an excuse that the room is dark, when it was not that dark.

Shakti hears the sound of feet coming towards her and she runs towards her room thinking what could it be, “why is that mummy papa hug each other every night, and why do they make silent noises?” interrupting her thought Gauri enters into her room with lipstick all over her mouth and blood running from her lower lip. Shakti asks her “kya hua mummy?”, “kuch nahi, sojao” was the reply of Gauri who then slept with Shakti for the first time when it was a weekend.

Next morning Shakti goes running toward her father asking him if they are going for the picnic and he says “yes we are”. At 11:30 in the noon of Saturday they prepare to go to India Gate, Shakti sat in the car with Sunil and the car started driving, Gauri was not going with them with the scar on her beautiful face that occurred last night.

The father-daughter duo enjoys in the India gate do boating while Gauri does the household chores. Shakti loves going out and have fun but she does not like the voices in night she feels alone and uneasy. The day went well; Gauri welcomes the father and the daughter when they come back. It is 10 at the night, dinner is ready…

“Khane me kya bana hai, kaun batayega?” asked Gauri with an overjoyed voice

“Mai mai!” said Shakti

“Yeah tell me?”

“Rajma rice?” asked Shakti for confirmation and Gauri said “haan!” (punjabiyaan de favourite hamesha rajma chol hi hunde ne,  Shakti’s grandma used to say this). The environment of the house was all happy, the family ate the dinner and Shakti was happy after eating rajma rice and went to her room to study. It was 11:30 pm that the sounds begin again but this time Shakti does not move she knows that they might be hugging each other again.

In few days it was Shakti’s birthday, for which the Khanna’s invite their relatives, which includes Shakti’s mausi, chacha and their kids and Sunil’s best friend and his wife with their son, Sankalp. Shakti and Sankalp know each other since their childhood they study in the same school but different sections. From past 5-6 weeks they have bonded in their school time where they eat together during lunch break, sit and talk to each other. Shakti fakes a smile in front of him all the time hiding the thoughts of about what happens in the night and why couldn’t her parent hug each other quietly. She had seen them hugging only once where she saw her father’s back and her mother in his father’s arm and till the time she could see their expressions she had to run.

Sankalp could see the pretence on her face that comes like a light feather and disappear with the next blow of the wind, he asked her “Shakti btaegi hua kya hai tujhe, tu haste haste hamesha kahaan kho jati hai?”, to which Shakti replied in Punjabi so that no one else could understand their  conversation “tere ghar ch v raat nu koi ajeeb jeha shor hunda hai jado tere mummy daddy jhappi paande ne?”

Sankalp said ‘no’ awakwardly, “par keho jeha shor?”

“Pata nahi, roj 11:30 baje kuchh te hunda hai mere mummy papa de room vich.”

They both leave the matter there and then finding no answer to their problem.

Few days later it was Shakti’s birthday and all the relatives of Khannas and Sankalp with his parents gathered to celebrate Shakti’s birthday, the party was well organized, Sunil gave a smartphone to Shakti at the age of 15 Gauri gave her a warm hug and her love, this was all she could drain out for her daughter from her capacity, Gauri loved her daughter immensely. All the relatives wished Shakti “vadhai puttar”, “jug jug jiyo puttar ji..” , “chetti chhetti vadde ho”…. The wishes murmured from all over for Shakti who couldn’t handle it. She went to her room and thought about what her aunt said which turned the expression on Gauri’s face… “kudiyaan chetti vadiya ho jaandiya ne.. rabb ennu khush rkhe…” this is what the aunt had said. But Shakti didn’t know what struck her mother unknown to Gauri’s thoughts which said “why do girls even grow big?”, meanwhile alone in the room when Shakti was thinking about all these things Sankalp was watching her busy with her internal monologues, interrupting her thoughts he entered the room,

“Happy birthday Shakti”

“Ohh hanji! Thanks Sankalp, how are you?”

“Give me your hand Shakti.”

“Why what is it?”

“Give me your hand and close your eyes dear”

It was for the first time that both of them were alone. Shakti gave him her hand and Sankalp tied a bracelet on her hand, kissed her hand and then wished her birthday once more. They both stood facing each other with hand in hand when Sankalp came close to her and hugged her, for a moment she could feel Sankalp’s heartbeat and warmth but then thought if their hug carries some noise with it but it did not, it was a calm and peaceful hug, which she never thought it could be because for her, hugs are meant to be noisy just like her mother and father’s hug does.

It was 11:30 when the two stood holding each other, Shakti had never sensed this kind of emotion in her life, she was happy, she could have lived like this forever, when again the noises came and made her feel irritated.

“Do you hear that Sankalp?”

“What?”

“Vo shor…”

“Kesa shor?” Sankalp asked irritated

The party was over and relatives had gone back to their home, Sankalp’s parents stayed with Khannas as the best friends i.e. Sunil and Sayyam had planned to go out with their families together the next day.

Sayyam, Sankalp’s father and his mother were in one of the rooms of Khanna mansion while Shakti and Sankalp heard the noises, Sankalp wanted to finish the mystery of this noise once and for all because he knew that Shakti is troubled by the noises even in school time. Both of them went towards the room of Shakti’s parents where they both saw a grave part of life where Sunil was strangling Gauri and it was not something new, they could see the wounds appearing on Gauri’s face as the makeup has been taken off at night. Today the lights were on. Shakti figured out the noises and the hug that she witnessed last time, it was the same strangling that she saw today looking like a hug. Shakti went running towards her room and Sankalp ran after her, he hugged her again and cried with her. The teenagers could not figure out what they just saw.

Four years have passed Shakti and Sankalp are in a college of DU, they stayed together all these years, and no doubt they love each other. The noises that Shakti used to hear still haunts her and are continued even today but the emotional support from Sankalp make her handle the mental torture.

It was two months that Sankalp had gone to Banglore for an internship, and Shakti is in college without him. It’s Saturday night once again the clock hits 11:30 and there is no sound today, Gauri makes no sound these days, she makes herself ready for the scars and Shakti can only hear the loud voices of slaps, punches and kicks. But at 12 she hears her mother screaming “aaaaa rabbbaaa” and Shakti threw the pillow away with which she was pressing her tears and ran towards her parent’s room to see what has happened, her mother was screaming badly and tearing her hair apart, she was bleeding from her forehead too but it was not a fresh flow, it’s a clot. The scream was not because of the beating or physical abuse, she was drained emotionally and psychologically. Mental pain is all what she got since her marriage. “Pavitra rishta log kehte to hain par kayi bar rishte nibhane vale nahi milte”

The mother and daughter lock themselves in the room.

“Mummy aap thik ho?” asked Shakti all drenched in tears.

“Yes I am.” Gauri smiled.

Gauri always smiles when she sees Shakti , apni maa ki jaan jo hai; she is the only strength of her because of whom she is alive. Shakti puts cotton on Gauri’s wound and lied down in her lap with her eye bags filled with sleep. Afraid and frightened with the horror of her father, she asked

“Mummy subah kab hogi?”

“Iss rat ki subah, shayad kabhi nahi hogi beta”

Both of them slept like that till the next day. The morning did not bring any change. Gauri did all the ghar ka kam and chulha cahuka for Sunil and Shakti while listening to the songs “Mai zindagi ka sath nibhata chala gaya…” . The things had to go on. But there was something about what Shakti was feeling happy, her strength was coming back from Banglore, Sankalp was coming in college that day after two months. All these months Shakti and Sankalp talked very little because Sankalp told her that he is busy saying “kaam k waqt sirf kaam, no other taam jhaam’, which Shakti handled very maturely. Shakti had planned a date with him that night little did she know that in those two months he too tuned into ‘The Man’.

Sankalp behaved weird, and reason was something that Shakti was always scared of. He was behaving rude on the date night too and when Shakti went close to him, her strength got shattered, she could smell the pungent fumes coming from him; Sankalp was drunk which works like an acid in her life, he did that thing because of which Shakti had always suffered. Shakti asked Sankalp if he loves her or not and he pushed her away, Shakti fell straight on the ground.

“This is where you belong, yehi aukaat hai tumhari.” Sankalp screamed his throat out like a man or like Sunil.

“Please, eh na kar tennu pata hai mai tere bina kinni kamjor haan…”

Shakti always spoke in Punjabi whenever she wanted to express her real emotions, she got up on her feet she did not make any noise and asked him again if he loves her or not. This time he did not push her, Sankalp slapped at her left cheek tightly; this is what both of them had grown seeing in their lives and then he went away. She stood numb.

Shakti went back home at 11:30 she could hear her mother getting beaten up as usual by her father, without getting bothered she went to the roof. Sat at the edge of the roof, her mind was bombarded with the voices

“Smash, slap, kicks, strangling, Sankalp…..”

“I will never trust men.” uttered Shakti to herself.

‘How long can a mad heart stay brave? ...’

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Note: This story is the first short story that I've ever attempted. I was influenced to write this story as being surrounded within such circumstances therefore leading to a short story with pure emotions. 

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Self-reflexive essay

By Kanika Attri

M.A English (1^st semester)

When I first thought of taking this course “Ways of Reading” it was out of my interest in Poetry which I write, love and value in my life, but after attending just first class I got to realise that the course is not just about poetry but various other literary forms as well. When I went through the course’s outline I saw ‘Graphic novel’ and one of my favourite novels The God of Small Things in the course and decided that I would take this course. And after attending the first class I was sure of my decision seeing Akhil Katyal, the poet whom I had always admired in my graduation days. Whereas earlier I had expected it to be a poetry workshop class, by the end I realised and learned not only the interesting facts and technicalities of poetry for example line breaks, repetition and its value in poetry’s meaning but of other art forms too; and also the fluidity of these art forms that helps to portray our emotions in a way that I never thought could be a part of it, for example language as for me, I always thought poetry or any other literary form to be in English but it is actually not so.

Beginning with my prior perception regarding poetry, was that it carries a sense of personalization, where I always used to write poetry about my own feelings and emotions, which I still do but when we discussed Carol Ann Duffy’s poetry and the way she writes about the historical and mythical character is also a direction in which poetry can make its ways; it is not restricted to ourselves but it is Us who write poetry and gets to decide what to write and how. Secondly the descriptive poetry of Elizabeth Bishop ‘The Fish’ made a great impact on me because without this course I might not have even thought of even reading such poetry where even description of a fish can be so beautiful and poetic. And these two poets definitely influenced me in my writing where I attempted to write in both styles, I’ve written on mythical characters as well as I tried writing a descriptive poetry that too on a ‘Bottle’ of Alcohol  and to some extent I am satisfied with my attempt.

The one thing I internalized about poetry as a genre was it to be in one language, and I remember the class when we discussed one of my favourite writer Manto’s “Mishtake”, his short story on partition, the play with language appeared very playful and interesting to me, and I realized that poetry or any literary form is not about one language but we make the language of our poetry as ‘Ours’, it can either be in English or Hindi or any other language, because of which I’ve started exploring my own poetic dimensions not only in English but in Hindi and Punjabi both. But as a free spirited writer pouring my emotions in poetry I used to leave my works untitled but in the workshop conducted by Aditi Rao, the discussion of metaphors and the interdependency between title and a literary work was useful as I had many poems untitled, to which I gave titles after that particular workshop.

Other than poetry graphic novels was something of interest to me since last 3 years but I had read it for visual pleasure, while reading Art Spiegel man’s Maus the graphic novel in the class it taught me not only the ways of reading a “Graphic work” but also how to “See” a work because it does not only carry the meaning of the work through written description but the importance of visual which equally communicates the expression or the idea within the work and through the shape, colour, shade in the graphics that determines the meaning of the visual art. And graphics are not only made to work in graphic novels but the use of graphics or visual art can also be seen in other literary genres to communicate meaning better. After the discussion of graphic novels I was able to connect it with William Blake’s writing style of poetry where he used to make paintings for his poems that gave more meaning to his poem or vice versa.

Lastly, I’d be talking about Arundhati Roy’s The God Of Small Things which introduced me to the aspect of intermingling of language and how a novelist through his/her writing can create a language of their own, and not only writers but even we in our daily lives use this kind of language without even realizing which was pointed out within the classroom itself, where we discussed some words that are neither English nor Hindi, and also how we also use this intermingled language in our common, so can be a writer’s narrative, as natural as possible and it can create a great impact on readers.

So at last I can say that this course taught me various characteristics within poetry that is line breaks repetition, title, language and its uses, also the ways of seeing in graphics literary works and at last the intermingling of all these in a novel. Therefore with such an immense introduction to all the ways of readings and writing I was able to write my first ever story few days back for this course only which I hope has done justice to the genre.