This can't be a story!

Nashi has been reading Romeo and Juliet ever since Chichikov brought it for her. Every time I ask(beg is a better word) her to finish that and give it to me, she would divert me so cleverly reading few lines out of the book and telling me how beautifully things are exaggerated. She must have told me about Romeo's description of Rosaline for some twenty times. Now I don't think I'll enjoy this part when I read it myself.

Recently, when I asked her how far she read, she has suddenly become excited and told me "It can't be a story. It must have happened to Shakespeare himself or otherwise to someone very close to him." I was surprised for usually we hear people saying "This can't be true!" if they don't see a possible mapping to the society they live in or they would say "This must be based on a real incident" if they can see a close mapping. But the way Nashi declined to accept that it is a story made me laugh.

She tells me "For someone who haven't read it, the sketches of Romeo and Juliet will be quite deviated from the real ones. They are very natural. They think just like you and me. If their love is considered true and great, ours shall be no less to them."

I mused over this for some time and got to this reasoning. R & J's love is great because love gets its honor only after death.

Other Stories

The Meek One

Again a clash of young and old, of wanna-be-idealists and self-preserving monarchs, of dreams and the reality, of passions and the experience, of excitement and complacency. Story of a couple, an young wife, full of morals and a proud husband, revenging himself on the society as a pawn broker. It is written in the husband's voice. He makes a complicated and yet beautiful love story out of his wife's murder. Yes.. I call it a murder though she commits suicide. He killed her with his silence and with his magnanimity caring her even after she attempts to kill him.

The husband is a mad man(I call him so). He loves his wife but never does he express that. Still he claims that she has to understand him without any explanation. But how is that possible? For her, he is just a stranger. Then how is she to know that he loves her but doesn't show it for that is his nature? She apparently thinks that he doesn't love her. Anybody in her place would do the same.

I tell you, silence is terrific than the terror itself. One's heart keeps swinging like a pendulum with wild imagination and mostly one would make it swing towards the terror just to get used to it if in case.. So the terror is felt even before it actually starts. It gets worse, when hope glimpses from the far end. One runs quickly to the end where hope is seen just now. But on reaching there, it fades away like a star that sometimes disappears. One would scorn oneself for running there with impossible hopes and marches back with gloomy face. An oath will be taken not to repeat it. Again hope will be seen from the corner of the eye and one tries to avoid looking at it. But very soon one runs off there unable to stand against the power of hope. It just repeats itself till the actual terror comes on stage. This wild running is just impossible to bear unless you are bound by some strong reason.

The husband leaves her like that in dead silence thinking that he is actually giving her time to understand him by herself without his having explain or express anything. Irritated by this, she revolts back insulting him. She gets some gossip from his enemy and calls him a coward in the face. He still keeps quiet though he can defend himself for he thinks she has to know it by herself without any explanation (Fool?) One day she tries to shoot him when he is (pretends to be) sleeping but gives up doubting that he is just pretending. Even after this, he still goes on with his silent mission of love. She gets used to living like a dead. She falls sick and he takes care of her very well but continuing his silence.

One day our hero suddenly realises that he is losing her for nothing and everything will be settled perfect if only he talks. Seized by the moment, he expresses his love to her. She gets taken aback with 'stern amazement' by his love even after she tried to kill him and she couldn't bear this truth that he loves her like that. She takes all the guilt upon herself for she couldn't understand his silence and his attention towards her. Unable to bear her husband's generosity, she kills herself.

Dream Of A Ridiculous Man

I won't write anything about this story because I am afraid I would misguide you from what is necessary blabbering some nonsense . I beg you all to read this by yourselves. It is very much necessary. It relieves you from the suffering even at least while you are reading it. Solution to the universal problem is so simple. We can practice it together. We can be happy again and we will not need to love the suffering. After reading this, I told myself that I shall I replace all the 'hate's in my hatred poem with 'love'. I can't change it on the go, but as I try loving less of myself and more of my fellow-beings, I will replace each 'hate'. Then someday, there will be a beautiful poem of love, with love in each line and in each one. :)

Most Unfortunate Incident

Hilarious. Dostoevsky never gave me a chance to bring back the severe expression which is generally used here for the public etiquette. I kept guffawing inside and covered it with suppressed smiles just to keep those manners.

This is the story of an young General (higher official in some department) who brags about the humanness to his old friends/colleagues (Please mind that, here the adjective is by the age :P). He defines 'humanness' as one's well behaviour with his subordinates and servants. His friends who had been once young and boiled their blood in the same way for social problems will just laugh at him saying that one cannot keep the humanness. But our hero is not to give in so easily and sets out to show them with an example by attending his servant's (whose salary is only 10 roubles) wedding uninvited. He thinks of complimenting the couple and then having a cup of drink only after the pressing requests to do so and then to talk about the present problems of Russia and to leave after that immediately. He expects that they would feel gratified by his presence and pass on the information that such and such General had come for his wedding to his grandchildren.

Unfortunately in the present case, nothing of the sort happens. The servant gets bewildered on seeing His Excellency. Though the servant is obedient, the General faces difficulty in finding the trace of life in his eyes. The General keeps feeling that nobody there likes him and are laughing at him for some reason. Many times, he feels an urge to take leave but doesn't for he thinks that is improper. He is offered two bottles of vodka and then wedding dinner with much pressing by the groom's mother. But somehow, he offends a man, who happens to be a contributor to 'The Brand', a magazine. Later, the contributor to The Brand insults the General calling him 'Retrograde' for the umbrage he took. At this point, the General bursts out and almost comes to crying. He jumps off from his seat and sets out to leave. But he drops on the floor by the first step and falls asleep.

Now Dostoevsky completely changes his view of things from the General to the servant. The servant is a poor wretch and is often laughed at by his colleagues to have bath at least once in a month. On a fine day, a retired officer calls him, to offer his daughter with a dowry of 400 roubles and a wooden house for the good his father had done him when he was alive. His would be father-in-law also tells him that his daughter has seven devils in her and it is his responsibility to beat her and drive them away. Though he knows that he can neither handle a father-in-law like him nor a wife who has devils in her, he accepts the marriage for the 400 roubles, he is badly in need of.

When he is counting kopecks for the wedding expenses, here is His Excellency like a bolt. He already spent for those two bottles of fine vodka, His Excellency drank. Now the General is on the floor sleeping like a baby. The Servant gives up his bridal bed to His Excellency even after many reproaches from his bride and her mother. The groom's mother nurses the General like her own son till the next morning as he suffers from diarrhea. When he wakes up in the morning and recollects all that happened, he flushes himself out with shame. He finally agrees with his old friends (again 'old' is by the age) that one cannot keep the humanness.

This is for everybody with a variance in levels. Specially, rachhabanda daggara rechhi poyi rachha chese valla kosam. ;)

Good News: Himalaya Book Centre has finally got Dostoevsky on the shelves, unfortunately all I read.

Bad News: Today is 1st of July. Chichikov is singing.. "June pote... July gaali.."

Faint Heart

I didn't like this story. It is a rare case study.

Vasya and Arkady are friends and have been sharing the same apartment from 5 years. One day Vasya proposes a lady without any hope for he treats himself much lower to what he actually is and sees her much above to where she belongs. When he is about to be crumpled himself away like a discarded paper, she accepts him with delight and Vasya's weak heart just couldn't hold this happiness and comes back to his room in full fright.

Arkady makes fun of him, asking if he has killed anybody. When he gets to know what actually is happened, he is too happy for his friend and dances with him for a little celebration. Suddenly Arkady worries that Vasya would be leaving him soon. Vasya tells him that he too will be living with them. The contended Arkady asks him that he wants to see her amd know by himself whether he would like her or not. Vasya promptly accepts as if he was just waiting for any reason that would bring him to her.

Arkady likes her and she too likes him and consoles him that she is not going to take his friend away and they three would be living together like one. While they are returning from her home, Arkady is too happy for his friend is getting married to such a fine lady. He congratulates Vasya telling him how they have to arrange everything for the wedding and also for the future. He appoints himself as the best man for Vasya.

Arkady, in his excitement, even describes how they three would be living together in every detail. Then Vasya gets gloomy and is somewhat angry with his friend. At this point, I quite mis-guessed the reason for Vasya's depression. I thought Vasya is just uncomfortable for his friend's over excitement. It's that, he is uncomfortable to load his friend's affection to his already over loaded weak heart. Back in the room. he keeps writing with a pen without ink and goes on lamenting that he is being sent to army away from his friend and fiance.

Isn't it really foolish even to think that somebody gets mad out of happiness and gratitude for love? Leave that point, but what is it? Can there be such love and affection among men? I always think that men are incapable of trusting anybody. They always do leave place for doubt in their mind. And men can never completely show their affection. See, I too get irritated with display of emotions for little nothings but I really wanted to say 'Presto! Turn him to a girl.' with Chichikov many times.

White Nights

Story of a lonely dreamer, who befriends random people at Nevsky Prospekt even without talking to them. He even makes friends with streets and buildings of St. Petersburg. He counts himself 'A type' and explains 'A type' as an eccentric dreamer who dreams of having friendship with a particular writer and to play The Hero in a certain play. Mostly, he dreams of himself with a lady sometimes in the abandoned garden of an ancestral house and sometimes in the balcony of a ball room.

One night, he sees Nastenka sobbing by the river. But even before he tries to go near her, she walks away as if she doesn't need any escort. Our dreamer wishes one drunkard would chase her so that he can fight with him and show this reason as licence to have her friendship. To his luck, it happens exactly so. Before parting, he pleads her to come the next night for he is so much in need of a friend. She accepts telling him not to think of her in any other way for she accepted so quickly and she is doing that for her own sake and not for him and on a pre-condition that he shall not fall in love with her.

I can clearly guess how it would end, but it is sweet to read and feel for those passionate characters. Each page deserves a kiss.

Poor Folk Contd.

Varenka sends her copy book when her benefactor, Makar asks about her past. In that, she writes about how she gets irritated when her neighbour cum tutor, Provsky treats her a child even when she is fifteen. One day, she stealthily goes to his library when he is away. She explains her actions this way..

Why should he care for my friendship and affection? He was a learned man and I so stupid. -I knew nothing and had read nothing, not a single book. I stood looking enviously at the shelves groaning under the weight of all those books. I felt vexed, resentful, and strangely frenzied. I decided to read them all and at once, from the first to the last as quickly as possible. Probably, my idea was that, having learned what he knew, I should be more worthy of his friendship.

It is actually my idea. I haven't read it before. It is my own feeling. Does it always holds true that two can never think alike? I exactly thought like Varenka, but it never came to my mind that I shall capture this feeling so beautifully in words. I am no artist. This is the precise reason, I read the books you read. But Huck and Hell are real coincidence.

Dostoevsky, you are my darling. How well you know a woman's heart! Pages of this book are pearls to me. Each one is precious in its own way. I liked the way Varenka and Makar argue about the books they read.

Poor Folk

This is the first of the six stories and it is said to be the first novel that Dostoevsky ever attempted to write. For this he even got praised by the critics and was complimented with exclamations such as "A new Gogol has arisen."

The story is a communication between two people through sometimes long and sometimes short letters. These two people are distantly related to each other, and one lives under the support of the other. They live next to each other. The man chooses a kitchen partition of a lodge as his room for two reasons, his poverty and for the reason, he can see the window of the room his friend lives in from there.

They can even possibly be lovers, but I am not sure of that. It is only my guess. See, If I am sure of what I say, I am afraid, either of them can possibly spring up and say, "Did I ever mention that in my letters?" But from the pure happiness, the man feels when his beneficiary accepts his request to raise the window curtain so that he can get a glimpse of her now and then, I felt a feasibility of love happening. Mind you, I admit, I have no knowledge, where to mark those lines of love on the scale of emotions.

More than love, they talk about how badly one must have to live in poverty. The man often talks about the smell of the poor. Even when the place is tidy, you can smell that smell. It goes strong, the poorer you become. It is not just the place, even the people smell unbearable. He talks of how one has to give up privacy and adjust to the noise of friends and neighbors' shouting and how you are forced to share even the much awaited last piece of bread.

When he talks, he doesn't make you feel pity for his poverty but for the way he tries to stand up proud in those filthy conditions. If you had never been poor, you wouldn't want to read it for he talks so much you don't understand or you would read it out of curiosity to see the world you have never seen. Even if you were poor, you wouldn't want to read it for it reminds the past you want to leave back or you would read it to rejoice the memories and to cry for yourself and your friends who shared those tiniest pleasures of the world with you.

I have read only six letters. There is even a possibility that I have misunderstood everything what Dostoevsky wanted to say. So listen to me but don't expect you would feel the same when you read the story.

Kostanzhoglo

Here is a very small and impressive piece of Kostanzhoglo's speech to Chichikov when the latter requests his advice on estate management.

If a carpenter handles his axe well, I am ready to stand and watch him for two hours, such a cheering effect does work produce upon me. But if you can also see with what object all this is being done, how everything about you is multiplying and increasing, bearing increase and income- Well, I cannot express what takes place in your spirit then. And it is not because your money is increasing —money is nothing in itself— but because all this is the work of your own hands, because you see that you are the source of it all; that you are the creator, and that from you, as from some magician, good and abundance are showered upon all. Now, where else will you find me such another enjoyment?

Prince Lev Nikolayevich Myshkin

Beauty'll save the world. (from Dostoevsky's Idiot) The prince's confidence could have been true, if only, beauty itself is saved from its death.

Prince Andrew's death(Tolstoy's War & Peace) didn't move me much, whereas my friends got considerably disturbed. So I took myself to have been better immunized against emotional stories. But while reading The Idiot, this is how I felt. Except the prince, everybody else is a 'Me'. Too complex and torturous and these are the kind of souls, whom we can never decide to be good or bad. I reckon myself belonging to this group. Prince who is new to live in a society, loves people. He is much pleased to forgive them when they call him an idiot and goes far to believe, they might be true in a way. He talks much better than an educated, though he is never formally educated and befriends all, who take him to a foe. I don't know, when I got impressed with the prince, I never found it until the prince asks Rogozhin with curiosity about the weapon he used for the murder, while, quite a different feeling is expected from him. My shawl got wet with tears. Never before, did it happen for a book. I know, I wasn't crying for anybody's death or the sad ending of the story, but for the pure goodness and the pity, the prince possessed for others. After finishing the book, I felt like, I had always been there at Epachin's and listened to the Prince talking about the capital punishment, the economical condition of Russia, and about the Beauty redeeming the world. Now I crazily hope, Evegenie Pavlovich will write to me about Prince's health, like he is doing to Vera Lebedeff.

I know, it is just a story, and a person like Prince, could never be born. Still, I fancy, Prince is not a character, but someone I met on my way. I hope, Beauty is not all dead. I hope, there are still few seeds left to be planted deep in the earth. I wish, beauty will reborn and shower its spell on everything. I hope, Beauty'll save the world.