E-Paper
Mark of Cain
Hatred between brother and brother, according to Hebrews and Christian and Muslim belief, is as old as the human race, writes Khushwant Singh.
Hatred between brother and brother, according to Hebrews and Christian and Muslim belief, is as old as the human race. According to the Bible, God first made Adam and out of one of his ribs, Eve. They had two sons, Cain and Abel. Cain hated his brother and murdered him. Ever since, murderous hate between brothers is symbolised by the mark of Cain.
I do not believe in the story of Adam and Eve; not many people do. But I know the story of Cain and Abel holds good to this day. There is more concealed hatred between brothers than love for each other. I know this to be true in my family; I know this to be true about every family I know — rich and not-so-rich or impoverished. In genteel circles, it passes off as sibling rivalry. In fact, it goes much deeper than that: it is envy, jealousy, resentment and, at times, murderous rage.
When one brother rises above others by making more money, going higher in the service ladder, becoming a successful politician or a minister, his brothers make a great show of their joy but deep inside, burns embers of envy which, unless checked, can explode into insane wrath. How else can one explain Pravin Mahajan going armed with a pistol concealed under the clothes and pumping three bullets into his brother, Pramod Mahajan’s body?
By any reckoning, Pramod rose to great heights in his political career. Women were drawn towards him: remember the case of Shivani Bhatnagar? He refused to take a DNA test, which would have cleared his name from charges of having sired her child. He has a way with words: he is clear-headed, lucid and persuasive. There was no doubt that he would, in due course of time, have succeeded L.K. Advani and Atal Bihari Vajpayee. And, in political winds turned in favour of Hindu Right-wing forces, made it to the top. He had not reckoned with his youngest brother.
Translating Tagore
Gurudev admitted he was not upto the task of translating his writings into English. One of his admirers was the German philosopher, Albert Schwester, who described Tagore as the Goethe of India. In a letter to him on February 18, 1926, Tagore wrote: “Do whatever you like with my songs, only do not ask me to do the impossible. To translate Bengali into English verse fit for reproducing the original rhythm so that the words may fit with the theme would be foolish for me to attempt. All I can venture to do is render them in simple prose, making it possible for a worthier person than myself to verify them.”
William Radice did a heroic job; his translation made me realise that Tagore was a great song writer. Other translations of his prose, poetry, plays and short stories read flat. The latest attempt is by Dilip K. Mitra, who, besides being an agricultural scientist, is also a poet and a playwright. His translation Gems from Tagore: A Lyrical English Translation of Selected Tagore Songs (East West Publications) was released recently by Vasant Sathe. He has succeeded in capturing the spirit of the original. I give one example:
Shudu Jawa aasa, shudhu srote bhasa,
Shudhu aalo aandhare, kanda hasa.
Shudu Dekha pawa, Shudhu chhunye jawa,
Shudhu dure jete jete kende chawa.
Shudhu naba durashay, aage chole jay,
Pichhe fele jay, michhe aasha.
Ashesh basona loye bhanga bal,
Praanpan Kaaje pay bhanga phal.
Bhanga tori dhore bhase parabaare,
Bhab kende more bhanga bhashaa.
(It’s only to meet and only to touch
It’s only to depart with tears to match.
Only, the fervent hopes lie ahead,
Leaving behind longings all dead.
The unsatiated desires in broken heart,
Trying its best, it fails to start.
On a broken raft it sets sail,
The emotions whimper, expressions
fail.
Heart to heart, not fully known,
Wants to reach out, but only moan.
It’s my faith, my blush and alarming
fear, It’s my tender love for you, my dear.)
Food shortage
The UN conducted a worldwide survey. The only question asked was: “Would you please give your honest opinion about solutions to the food shortage in the rest of the world?” The survey was a huge failure. In Africa, they didn’t know what ‘food’ meant. In India, they didn’t know what ‘honest’ meant. In Europe, they didn’t know what ‘shortage’ meant. In China, they didn’t know what ‘opinion’ meant. In West Asia, they didn’t know what ‘solution’ meant. In South America, they didn’t know what ‘please’ meant. And in the US, they didn’t know what ‘the rest of the world’ meant.
(Contributed by Tarlok Singh, New Delhi)
Husband’s day out
In 1961, Queen Elizabeth attended a garden party hosted by the erstwhile Maharaja of Jaipur and attended by local dignitaries and tourists. The following conversation actually took place between Prince Phillip and an American tourist:
Prince Phillip: Yankee, what are you doing in Jaipur?
Yankee: Sir, same as you, following the missus.
(Courtesy Colonel Trilok Mehrotra, Noida)
This column will now appear every Friday instead of Saturday
