Question

short story of idgaah by munshi premchand

Answer 1

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A full thirty days after Ramadan comes Eid. How wonderful and beautiful is the morning of Eid! The trees look greener, the field more festive, the sky
has a lovely pink glow. Look at the sun! It comes up brighter and more dazzling than before to wish the world a very happy Eid. The village is agog
with excitement. Everyone is up early to go to the Eidgah mosque. One finds a button missing from his shirt and is hurrying to his neighbour's house for
thread and needle. Another finds that the leather of his shoes has become hard and is running to the oil-press for oil to grease it. They are dumping
fodder before their oxen because by the time they get back from the Eidgah it may be late afternoon. It is a good three miles from the village. There will
also be hundreds of people to greet and chat with;they would certainly not be finished before midday. The boys are more excited than the others. Some of them kept only one fast— and that only till noon. Some didn't even do that. But no one can deny
them the joy of going to the Eidgah. Fasting is for the grown-ups and the aged. For the boys it is only the day of Eid. They have been talking about it
all the time. At long last the day has come. And now they are impatient with people for not hurrying up. They have no concern with things that have to be
done. They are not bothered whether or not there is enough milk and sugar for the vermicelli pudding. All they want is to eat the pudding. They have no
idea why Abbajan is out of breath running to the house of Chaudhri Karim Ali. They don't know that if the Chaudhri were to change his mind he could
turn the festive day of Eid into a day of mourning. Their pockets bulge with coins like the stomach of the pot-bellied Kubera, the Hindu God of Wealth.
They are forever taking the treasure out of their pockets, counting and recounting it before putting it back. Mahmood counts "One, two, ten,
twelve"— he has twelve pice. Mohsin has "One, two, three, eight, nine, fifteen" pice. Out of this countless hoard they will buy countless things: toys,
sweets, paper-pipes, rubber balls— and much else.
The happiest of the boys is Hamid. He is only four; poorly dressed, thin and famished-looking. His father died last year of cholera. Then his mother
wasted away and, without anyone finding out what had ailed her she also died. Now Hamid sleeps in Granny Ameena's lap and is as happy as a lark.
She tells him that his father has gone to earn money and will return with sack loads of silver. And that his mother has gone to Allah to get lovely gifts
for him. This makes Hamid very happy. It is great to live on hope; for a child there is nothing like hope. A child's imagination can turn a mustard
seed into a mountain. Hamid has no shoes on his feet; the cap on his head is soiled and tattered; its gold thread has turned black. Nevertheless Hamid is
happy. He knows that when his father comes back with sacks full of silver and his mother with gifts from Allah he will be able to fulfil all his heart's
desires. Then he will have more than Mahmood, Mohsin, Noorey and Sammi.
In her hovel the unfortunate Ameena sheds bitter tears. It is Eid and she
does not have even a handful of grain. Only if her Abid were there, it would have been a different kind of Eid !
Hamid goes to his grandmother and says, "Granny, don’t you fret over me!
I will be the first to get back. Don't worry!"
Ameena is sad. Other boys are going out with their fathers. She is the only 'father' Hamid has. How can she let him go to the fair all by himself? What if
he gets lost in the crowd? No, she must not lose her precious little soul! How can he walk three miles? He doesn't even have a pair of shoes. He will get
blisters on his feet. If she went along with him she could pick him up now and then. But then who would be there to cook the vermicelli? If only she
had the money she could have bought the ingredients on the way back and quickly made the pudding. In the village it would take her many hours to get
everything. The only way out was to ask someone for them.
The villagers leave in one party. With the boys is Hamid. They run on ahead of the elders and wait for them under a tree. Why do the oldies drag
their feet? And Hamid is like one with wings on his feet. How could anyone think he would get tired?They reach the suburbs of the town. On both sides of the road are
mansions of the rich enclosed all around by thick, high walls. In the gardens mango and leechee trees are laden with fruit.