My Marriage....

A Qalash writer fell on the weak shoulders when suddenly the burden of running the house fell

I once wrote that there have been three major accidents in my life: the first of my birth, the details of which I do not know, the second of my marriage, the third of my becoming a fiction writer. Since the last accident is still going on, it would be premature to say anything about it.

For those who want to peek into my life, I tell the story of my marriage. It will not be arbitrary, because some events will have to be rounded for me to expediency.

Let me first provide a background view of the accident so that its details emerge. Listen, I don't remember, maybe thirteen years ago when I was kicked out of Aligarh University because I was suffering from dysentery, I took a few rupees from my sister to get my health back, (Jammu and Kashmir). a village between) went. After staying here for three months, I came back to my city Amritsar and found that my sister's son had died. (She was married in Bombay. She stayed in Amritsar for a few days and went back to Bombay).

Here I consider it important to mention that I was deprived of father's shadow. My simple and good-hearted mother handed over the deposit for my sister's marriage to my brother-in-law. Now it was a situation that we were in need of others. My two elder brothers used to give us forty rupees per month.

As soon as I came to Amritsar, my heart and mind became very anxious. Yes, I wanted to run away somewhere, or commit suicide. Had I had a strong will, I would have killed myself. That is why when Mr. Nazir, the owner of a weekly artist from Bombay, wrote to me asking me to come to Bombay and take over the editorship of his paper, I immediately packed my bed and left for Bombay. I did not even think that mother would be left alone in Amritsar.

Mr. Nazir hired me as a servant for forty rupees per month. When I started sleeping in his office, he started deducting two rupees from my salary as rent. After that, when he employed me as a Munshi (interlocutor) in the Imperial Film Company at forty rupees per month, my salary was reduced to half, twenty rupees, of which two rupees were deducted for the use of the office for accommodation. stay

It was a time when the Imperial Film Company was in decline after its peak. Its owner, Seth Ardisher Irani, who was a brave man, was busy trying to get his company back on track. Obviously, in such a precarious situation, the employees were not getting their salaries on time. Seth Ardishar committed another atrocity by importing "Cine Color Process" machines to claim the honor of making India's first color film. He had earlier earned the distinction of presenting India's first talkie film 'Aalam Aaraa'.

The financial condition of the company became even weaker when this colorful burden fell on it, but it continued to operate. Something or the other used to be added as an advance, the rest was deposited in the account. It happened that the direction of this colorful film was entrusted to Mr. Moti, B. Gadwani, who was educated and liked me. They asked me to write the story, which I wrote and they liked it, but there was a patch on how to tell Seth that the writer of the story of the first color film is a minor manishti? After much deliberation, it was decided. It happened that in order to get a good price, the name of a person should be given on the story.

There was no such personality in my circle of friends, but when I looked around, I saw Prof. Ziauddin (late) at Shantiniketan, far away, who taught Persian to students at Tagore's university. I wrote to him. Because they loved me, they participated in our fraud. So the story was presented under his name and failed. The condition of the company worsened further. During this time, I got a job in 'Film City' on the recommendation of Mr. Nazir at Rs.100 per month. When Kardar Sahib came to Bombay from Calcutta, 'Film City' signed a contract with him for a film. Stories were solicited. There was one of them that Mian Kardar liked and started working on it, but nature had something else in mind.

Seth Ardischer found out that I was in Film City, not his first reputation, but he had the same awe and snobbery over all his producer peers. He scolded the owners of 'Film City' so much that I was taken by the ear and sent back to Imperial Film Company along with my story. Now my salary was reduced to forty instead of forty and I was promised My story will be paid separately. The direction of this story was entrusted to Hafizji (Ratan Bai Wale).

When I was employed in 'Film City', I left my residence in the office of 'Masour' and took a Kholi (room) in a very dirty chali (building) nearby for nine rupees per month. There were so many cracks in it that they fell like raindrops from the roof. Meanwhile, my mother came to Bombay and was staying with her daughter. The first time she came to meet me in this filthy hole, tears welled up in her eyes. My brother-in-law and I had a strained relationship. Now God bless him but his character was very bad. Because I was abusive, he banned me from his home and my sister was banned from visiting me.

I was referring to the tears that flowed from my mother's eyes because her son, who was born in Nazo Naam, now lives in such a dirty place due to the cycle of time. He has no clothes. Works by burning a kerosene lamp at night. He eats bread in the hotel.

While she was crying, I was in severe mental and spiritual agony. The days that have passed, the memory of them has always been useless to me, and then what is the point of crying? I have always been interested in "Today". I never thought about yesterday or tomorrow. What was to be is done, what is to be will be. After crying, my mother asked seriously, "Saad, why don't you earn more?" I replied, "Bibi Jan, what will I do with more money?" What I am earning is enough for me."

He taunted me, "No, the point is, you can't earn much." If they were more educated, it would be a different matter. It was correct, but my reading didn't seem right. After failing the entrance three times, my wanderlust worsened when I entered college and failed the FA exam twice. When I went to Aligarh, I was expelled from there on the grounds that I was suffering from dysentery.

Despite feeling these harsh facts, I tried to avoid the matter with a joke, "Bibi Jan, whatever I earn is enough for me." If there was a wife in the house, then you would see how I earn. Earning is not a difficult task. A man can earn a lot of money without a higher education.” Hearing this, my mother suddenly asked me this question, "Will you get married?"

I just said "Yes". why not!''

"So come this Sunday, stand on the sidewalk. I will come down after seeing you. Your marriage will be arranged. God willing...... But look, come with your hair cut.

I didn't cut my hair. At night I put polish on my canvas show. I was standing on the footpath next to Anning Litigations in 'Maham' on a Sunday morning, wearing double-washed white trousers. Mother was waiting for me on the balcony of the third floor flat. When they saw me, they came down and asked me to come along.

There was a building twenty five yards away. 'Jafar House'. The mother knocked on the door of one of his second-floor flats, which the maid opened. We went inside. Mother went to the bathroom. I was greeted by a fair-skinned middle-aged man. He sat in Mardane with great love and sincerity and immediately became frank. You learned from me and I learned from them about each other's hobbies. He was a government employee, a "fingerprint specialist" in the police department. Salary was obligatory. He was the father of several children. Rasya, a race and flush, would regularly solve crossword puzzles but could not win a prize.

I told them all my situation. He also said that working in a film company where there is no salary, only to keep breathing, sometimes something is given as an advance. I am surprised that when I told them that even in such a thin state I must drink a bottle of beer every evening, they did not mind. They listened to everything I said very carefully. When I got up to leave, Malik Hasan had read all the necessary pages of my book Life.

When we left, mother told me that these people came from Africa, knew your brothers very well (he had been a barrister in East Africa for ten or twelve years), they had a girl, whom they wanted to marry. are Many relationships have come but they did not like it. Actually want a Kashmiri family. I have talked to them about you. And nothing was hidden. Mother completed the work that was left, but I began to wonder what this series is about. If they agreed (though I wasn't sure, because there was nothing in me that they would give me their girl), would I really have to get married and? And then have to earn a lot of money?

Malik Sahib invited me for dinner the other Sunday. When I reached there as promised, they welcomed me. The food came. There was chicken, there were koftas, there was green curry and coriander mint and pomegranate chutney, everything was delicious, but the hot spices and chillies were so overwhelming. I lost my sweat, but gradually I got used to it.

After two or three Sundays when I mingled with these people, my mother told me that they had accepted my relationship. I was shocked when I heard this. I was thinking this story of marriage was just a joke. Besides, I was not sure that any sane man would give me his girl. What did I have? Entrance pass, that too in the third division. A job is a place where you get advance instead of salary. and professions in film and journalism. When did the gentleman face such people?

How hard I had to go to get a dirty kholi. The landlord came to know that I work in a film company. After much persuasion, he finally agreed.

I was very worried. I was totally unprepared to hear this news. My mental balance was further disturbed when mother said that she had finished the matter. I didn't say anything to them and sat up day and night and started thinking about how to get rid of this trouble that I have taken on myself. After a lot of thinking, I came to the conclusion that thinking is completely futile now. I should put my boat in this manjadhar after saying that, I have made this decision, but where did the rupees come from for the marriage ceremony? This question was very disturbing. The advance was also stopped from the company. Meanwhile, mother had fixed the date.

Many times I thought of running away from Bombay, but some invisible force held my feet. The only chance was that I would meet Seth Ordishar and ask him for some rupees towards my marriage expenses. About one and a half thousand rupees used to go out from me to the company, if they got it, I think everything would have gone away. I met Ardishar Sahib. They did not have enough time to listen to my story carefully. Strolling, listening to what I said, compulsively. Finally, he said to me, "Look, you know the condition of the company." If the situation was good, we would have married you ourselves!

It is true that when the company was in good condition, they used to provide generous financial support to their employees. He was a great benefactor, but now his hand was so tight that he was greatly confused by the feeling that he could not help a questioner.

You can imagine my disappointment. When I started walking, he called out to me and said, "All I can do is bring you the necessary things." Go and call Hafiz ji.

 

I took Hafizji to him and he told him the address of the shops. He wrote on a piece of paper and said, "Take Munshi Minto with you." And take whatever he wants.

I agreed with Hafizji. We drove to a bazaz shop and bought two sarees, in Seth Ardishar's personal account. The other shop was a jeweler's. A man was taken with me from there, because I wanted the girl to like the jewelry for herself. 

Both Johari's man and I reached 'Jafar House'. The girl's mother, whom I called Aunt John, was shown some jewelery by the jeweler's man. He liked only one diamond ring, pearl 'botis' (ear ornament), one pendant, two gold bangles. I strongly urged Aunt Jan to keep some more ornaments, but she didn't want to burden me too much. I wish I had told them that I will never get such an opportunity again. I want to take one and a half thousand rupees from the company. Don't leave a thief's loincloth on your way, but unfortunately I received only four or five hundred rupees from this amount, because the company died soon after my marriage. 

Now Nazir Sahib increased my monthly salary to 40 rupees again, which gave some hope that the series of beer bottles will continue in the evening.

'Marriage' proved to be very 'fatal' for me. The money that was to be taken from the company, he drowned separately and injured his knee separately.

Listen to his story. There was no friend, no dear, sister in Bombay, but my right was cut off there. I had to do all the work myself. A few men had to inform that I was getting married. Chohare and cardamom seeds were to be bought. There was a haircut and a bus ride to the front. 

When I was returning after inviting Syed Fazal Shah, the owner of Shahjahan Mahal Hotel, to participate in the marriage ceremony, my foot slipped on the stone floor and I fell down with such force that I became unconscious.

 

I have only fainted three times in my life. First on his marriage invitation to Syed Fazl Shah (deceased), second on the sudden death of his mother, then on the death of his son.

It was also a good omen to fall and faint. The injury was so severe that when I regained consciousness and started down the stairs, my affected leg refused to move. Reached the market with great difficulty. The pain was so great that every step would bubble up.

Well, for the chawhar and cardamom seeds and reached Maham. He climbed the stairs of Jafar House and went to the wedding ceremony. Fifteen and twenty people were present. I sat down with the support of the chair. The injured leg was not double. So he was allowed to lie down separately, although it was very rude, but when Qazi Murghe (strange name) asked me to sit on my knees, I had to obey his order after drinking all the teas of pain. 

When the ritual of acceptance and acceptance was over, life came to my soul. The leg straightened. Several more sips of pain. Received congratulations and limped to his home. He lit the kerosene lamp and lying down on the bed full of bedbugs, he began to wonder if I was really married. I tell you the truth that in spite of my pocket and cardamom seeds and my knee injury, I could not believe that such a big accident had happened in my life.

I was almost married. The only difference was that my wife was not present in my nine-rupee monthly kholi. Legally, I could ask him to accompany me whenever I wanted, but where was the courage? From where would he feed him, from Irani's hotel in front of him and that too on loan. Where is it kept? There was no space for more than one chair in the opening.

It is obvious that the wives also bathe, but there was no bathroom there. It was a two-storied building with forty openings. All of them had only two bathrooms for the common use of the residents, the doors of which disappeared when it is not known. I was very confused with the feeling that I was married and had to live as a husband to a girl, if not today. I had never experienced anything like this before. I had absolutely no idea what a wife was and what a husband was. 

Two or three girls must have come in my life, but they were maids. My encounter with them was like blind people bumping into each other while crossing the road and taking a break from the collision and going their separate ways. I was honestly feeling like I could be everything, but not a husband. It was not a case of essay writing and fiction writing. 

Time passed. I tried and got a job in a film company called Saroj Movietone, at Rs.100 per month. This company was probably waiting for my arrival. Not even two months have passed since he went bankrupt. 

Now I am convinced that my marriage has turned out to be very unfortunate for me. But Seth Nanobhai Desai, the part owner of Surag Bashi Saroj Movie Tone, has some kind of fight that he has trapped a rich Marwadi and "Sarooj Modi Tone". After removing the name of 'Hindustan Cinetone', a new film company was established.

 

For this, I wrote my second film story titled "Mud" which was later released as "Apani Nagriya" and became a success. 

The film was not even half finished when Marwari Seth lost all his wealth in silver stash, even his magnificent motor which was spotless white in colour. I also linked her relationship with my marriage. I was sure that within a few days I would be bankrupt of this new company, but Nanubhai Dasai somehow managed to complete the film by taking loans from here and there.

It was almost ten months after my marriage that I had to face a very embarrassing accident. A foolish friend of mine had a lover. Uneducated, ignorant, complacent. But a master of the art of dancing, one evening to cheer me up he gave me beer, drank a little himself and started giggling. Giggling, he took me in his friend's motorbike and took me to a girl who he said was his student.

When he knocked on the door, a feminine voice from inside asked, "Who is it?"

Lover said "Lover"!

An insult came out from inside, "I love you."

As the lover got angry, he broke the door and entered inside. I followed him. He was beating a servant badly. Let me cut the story short. When Ashiq was arrested the next day, he told the police, "I had another man with me." 

So I was also arrested. In 'Mahim', my father-in-law found out immediately. I was very worried about how to approach these people now. My Mankuha must have formed a very bad opinion about me.. She must have cried that I have been tied to a scoundrel from whom it is not even possible to get rid of. 

I honestly put myself in my position and thought for a long time and I came to the conclusion that I should tell Aunt Jan frankly that if after this incident which is really shameful you should give me your daughter. Don't think, I am ready to give divorce, but when I expressed my thoughts to him, he told me "You are crazy to think such things, we are sure of your innocence!" 

The burden on my chest became lighter, but my illusion increased that the marriage brought me misfortune. The company was stretched thin. Now advances were started in lieu of salaries. My story was due for royalties, but there was no way I was going to get them. 

On the insistence of my father-in-law, mother fixed the date of departure. It had been almost a year, the marriage took place. They were tired of waiting.

I was not in any hurry, but let it be said that I sincerely wished that it would not be time to leave. I was afraid that I would not be able to run the house and the entire life of a noble girl would be spent in torment without any fault. But the day was fixed which was the day of judgment for me.

 

The weekly painter, had improved greatly. Now his office was shifted to a better place. Telephone Mojo Datta. Mr. Nazir had a small car in which he drove around to deliver advertisements. 

Both of us were residing in this office now. I used to go to Maham every Sunday. Sometimes he caught a half-glimpse of his wife through the cracks of the door, and when he returned home after dinner, he cursed himself in his sleep, saying why I played this game of marriage when I had to get so much into her. But what could have happened now? It was a case that could not be found. 

I was shocked when only ten days were left for the departure date. Got up at once and took a flat near the office, that is, in the same building, for thirty-five rupees per month. Forty I used to meet Mr. Nazir. I told them to pay the rent every month. Now as if I had to support myself and my wife on five rupees a month. 

I cleaned the flat thoroughly. Its wooden floor and doors, which were extremely dirty, were cleaned with caustic soda and locked, and with a faint hope in his chest, Nanobhai entered the service of Desai and demanded payment for his story and arrears of his salaries. . Seth Sahib gave me a clear answer that he could not give me even one darhya (money). 

I was shocked when I heard this answer. Getting angry, I even abused Seth. The result was that I was kicked out. I immediately telephoned Babu Rao Patel (Editor Film India). After narrating the whole story, I told him that if Nano Bhai does not settle my account, I will go on a hunger strike. My decision was irrevocable. 

Babu Rao, who was aware of my hit, was very disturbed. He immediately telephoned Nanobhai and told him that if Minto went on a hunger strike, the entire press would support him. Therefore, he wants to make a compromise with him immediately. 

No decision was made over the telephone, but when I met Babu Rao, Nanobhai in his office, I was called. Nanobhai apologized to me, I finally decided to accept half the amount, as the company was in a critical condition.

I was given a post-dated check of nine hundred rupees. After a few days when I telephoned Nanobhai Desai that the date had arrived and I was going to cash the cheque, he said, meet me first. 

When I met him, he told me in a very sad tone that there was no rupee in the bank. Can't I agree to five hundred rupees in cash? I immediately agreed, although my right to halal earnings was 900 rupees and now 500 rupees, but I was forced. There were only four days left before the departure.

I took a company motorbike, but it only had petrol to go to the petrol pump. I poured petrol from my knapsack and told the driver, go straight to the market. Five hundred rupees were in the pocket. I bought sarees etc. for my bride from them. When he reached home, his pocket was almost empty and the house was completely empty. There was not even a broken chair. 

I had an elderly friend there, Hakeem Muhammad Abu Talib Ishq Azimabadi, a great Maranj man. When I mentioned to them that I was bringing the bride but the house was empty, they took me to a furniture shop. The owner knew them well, so I got some stuff on easy installments. For example, two cots with iron springs, a cupboard to keep utensils etc., a dressing table (it was second hand), a writing table for myself, a chair etc.

When I tried to decorate this stuff in a flat, I was very disappointed. There were two ship-sized rooms. This furniture was not visible in them, so I bought two chairs and put them in a corner, which disappeared like other furniture.

Whatever I found from here and there, I put it somewhere. After putting everything away, I would look around the room and try to deceive myself that the flat looks full now.

The day has finally arrived. He was sitting in the painter's office in the morning. Mother had come to me now. I had come to them saying that I was going to arrange a party.

Mr. Nazir had sent rakays in the names of various people, most of whom were associated with Filmline. My barat was like a movie barat. Mian Kardar, director Ganjali famous actors of the time, E. Billy Maurya OD Billy Maurya, Noor Muhammad Chawli and Mirza Musharraf, Babu Rao Patel and Padma Devi, the heroine of the first color film, were all participating. 

When Babu Rao Patel realized that Minto had only his mother in the house who would have to be humbled for the sake of the guests alone, he sent Padma Devi to us to win my mother's hand. 

I had rented chairs and bottles of Vimto from a nearby Iranian restaurant. I could comfortably pay the expenses it would incur, so I had no hesitation in that direction, but I was absorbed in the painful thought of how the house would fare.

I was sitting in the office when my sister's telephone came from 'Maham'. He asked me, tell me what is going on. In reply I repeated Agha Hashar's famous phrase: “The lion is in an iron trap. I am caught in a dilemma. Preparing for the barat, but only 4.50 in pocket. A box of cigarettes will arrive in four days. Matches worth two paise. Let's have a clean story! 

My sister Bechari was forced to help me, her husband did not even allow her to participate in the farewell ceremony and see her brother become the bridegroom, yet she said to me. Saadat, I will turn to you. Please stop your motorcycle in front of my house. I want to see you! 

I didn't talk much, because she was getting too emotional. After disconnecting the telephone, I got up and got my hair cut from the neighboring salon. Bathed in the bath. Borrow it all.

 

By evening I had smoked the entire pack of cigarettes. Now I had only one match in my pocket, that too half.

After changing my clothes I put on the suit that I got from my in-laws. tie tie When I looked in the mirror, I looked like a cartoon. I laughed a lot.

Before the lights are lit, all the bratis gather first. Padma Devi and my mother humbled themselves for everyone's sake. After that, this caravan, which consisted of 10 to 15 motorbikes, left for Maham.

I was in Manu bhai Dasai's motor, without credit. Head bare, hair of reasonable length. When we reached Jafar House, I asked the driver to take him a little further. My sister was standing outside on the sidewalk. Tears were swimming in his eyes. As he laid his hand of love on my head, prayed and congratulated me, I quickly got back into the motor and asked the driver to back up.

Aunt Jan had arranged a feast on the open terrace upstairs which was very nice. Rafiq Ghaznavi, Director Nanda and Agha Khalish Kashmiri had a lot of fun banter. Everyone ate eagerly, as the food was very good and delicious, true to the Kashmiri tradition. 

After the meal, the conversation started. Agha Khalish Sahib recited a humorous poem which he had written on his own initiative. When this process was over, I was called down and the bride was handed over to me.

All this seemed like a dream to me. I don't know how many thoughts were coming up in my mind. The bride was with me. I held her hand and said in a shaky voice. ''come on.''

We got down. Billy Moriah presented his car. Mother was with me. First he made the bride sit, then you sit, then he asked me to come inside. She was between me and the bride. On the bells was the Koran wrapped in velvet. My and the bride's necks were covered with necklaces. When the motor started, mother started reciting a verse under her lip. I had recovered somewhat now, I really wanted to tease the bride a little but. Mother was sitting in the seat and was reading the Holy Quran. This evil desire of mine got cold there and then.

I don't know how and for how long the road was cut. Just came home at once. The building was of a very old style, with more wood and less brick used in its structure. It was reputed that once it was the grandest hotel in Bombay, it was won by Hazhai Nas Sir Aga Khan in a bet with a friend.

The mother went upstairs with the bride. I thanked my friends. Meanwhile, Mirza Musharraf arrived in the truck that contained the bride's dowry. Dining table, chairs, bed with springs, tripods, sofa sets and chests etc.

When these reasons were resolved, Mirza Musharraf had a dispute with the truck driver over rent, which continued for a long time. Mirza Musharraf showed his clownishness to the fullest. Finally, when the quarrel was settled and all the goods reached the flat and were temporarily placed around, Mirza Musharraf said in my ear while leaving, "Look, don't cut our nose!"

I was tired. The throat was getting dry, so the clown could not answer this joke of Mirza. The other day I felt that a quarter of my being had been transformed into a husband, I was very satisfied with this feeling and I started to see a rope on the balcony with pantyhose and culottes hanging on it.