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Eidgah
(This is only a feeble translation of "Eidgah", a story by Munshi Premchand. The objective is to urge readers to read the original, or better translations.)
After 30 days of fasting and prayers, Eid has finally arrived. It is such a beautiful morning. The trees appear much more greener than usual, there is an exceptional cheerfulness in the fields, and the sky has a stunning reddish glow. Look at the sun today; it is endearing and appears so cool as though greeting the world on Eid.
There is a bustle in the village; people are getting ready to go to the mosque. Someone discovers that buttons are missing from his kurta (loose shirt), and he is rushing to the neighbour's house to fetch needle and thread; someone else discovers that his shoes have become hard, and he has to run to the oil seller for oil to soften the footwear. There is a hurry to place fodder and water before the farm animals; it will be quite late in the afternoon when the villagers return back to their homes from the Eidgah. It is almost a six-mile walk, and, besides, scores of friends had to be visited and greeted on the way. It will be impossible to return before noon.
Boys are the happiest. Some of them had fasted only for a day, and that too only till noon. Many others had not observed the fast at all. But all of them are eager to go to the Eidgah. Fasting was for grown-ups; for them, it was Eid. Every day they had awaited the arrival of Eid, and it has finally come. The boys are getting restless to go to the Eidgah; domestic affairs does not concern them. What do they care whether there is milk and sugar in the house to make sevaiyya (a sweet dish); they are there to eat sevaiyya, and not to arrange for the milk and sugar. How are they to know why their fathers are rushing to the house of Chaudhary Kayamali. How can they know that if Chaudhary Kayamali wished, the Eid celebrations could turn into a day of mourning!
The pockets of the fathers might be empty, but the pockets of the children are bulging with coins. Every now and then, they remove the coins, count them, and put them back. Mahmood counts one, two, ten, twelve. He has twelve paise. Mohsin has one, two, three, eight, nine, fifteen. He has fifteen paise. They have a countless hoard, and they intend to buy countless things: toys, sweets, bugle, ball, and what not!
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