In one of the very unusual English class we had in the college, we were more unusually taught a chapter!! Yeah there r no English classes in the college.. students bunk one day and teachers bunk the other 3 dayz in the 4 English classes officially allotted per week!! So in one such class, we were taught a story titled “Grief” by Anton Chekov. I don’t know how many of u have read that so thought of briefing down the story .. newayz its always good to read a story.. here it goes…
Iona Potapov is a cab driver who lost his son (eks.. that was the climax!!!!). And the whole story was circulating around the fact that he couldn’t get even a single person to share his grief.. as the title suggest. The author had described Iona as “a white pale phantom bent double as far as a human body can bend; he is seated on a box and never moves. If a whole snowdrift fall on him, it seems as if he would not find it necessary to shake it off. His little horse is also quite white and remains motionless.” There were many passengers who came to him and on the way he tried his best to initiate a conversation with them and to tell them about his great loss.. but the world was so busy with their daily chaos that they didn’t had time for him. He couldn’t even drive properly and his passengers were constantly abusing him as he was very rash on the road and even stopped at places.. maybe coz he was overwhelmed with his grief. Below are the conversation with his passengers,
1) Iona looked around at the passenger and moves his lip. He evidently wants to say something, but the only sound that issues is a snuffle.
“What?” asks the passenger
Iona twist his mouth into a smile and with an effort says hoarsely: “My son, Barin, died this week.”
“Hm! What did he die of?”
Iona turns the whole body towards the fare and was about to start when the passenger cut short saying “Turn around! The devil!”
Several times again, he looked at his fare, but the latter has closed his eyes.
2) They were a group of three guz and were having a conversation amg themselves. The conversation was well described in the story but am not gonna do that!! Iona looks around at them several times; he waits for a temporary silence, then turning round again, he murmurs:
“My son – died last week.”
“We must all die one day, Now, hurry up!!!!!!”
3) “Hey cabby are u married?” asks the new one
“I? Hi, hi, what a man! Now I have only a wife: the moist ground… Hi, ho, ho.. that is to say, the grave! My son died, and I am alive.. a wonderful thing, death must have mistook the door… instead of coming to me, it went to my son…”
Iona turns round to tell them how his son died, but at that moment the passenger, giving a little sigh, announces, Thank God, they have reached the destination, and Iona watches them disappear through the dark entrance. Once more he is alone.. surrounded by silence…
His grief, which he had abated for a short while, returns and rends his heart with greater force. With an anxious and hurried look, he searches among the crowds passing on either side of the street to find if there is ONE person who will listen to him. Yet it is such an immense, illimitable grief. Should his heartbreak and the grief pour out, it would flow over the whole earth it seems, and yet, no one sees it. It has managed to conceal itself in such an insignificant shell that no one can see it even by day and with a light.
At the end of the day and the end of the story,
“Are you tucking in?” Iona asks his horse, looking at his bright eyes; “go on, tuck in though we’ve not earned our corn, we can eat hay. Yes! I am too old to drive – my son could have, not I. He was a first – rate cab driver. If only he had lived!”
Iona is silent for a moment, and then continues:
“That’s how it is, my old horse. There is no more Kuzma Ionitch. He has left us to live, and went off pop. Now, lets say, you had a foul, you were that foul’s mother, and suddenly, let us say, the foul left you to live after him. It would be sad wouldn’t it?”
The little horse munches, listens, and breaths over the master’s hand…..
Iona’s feeling are too much for him and he tells the little horse the whole story………!!!!!! Well this was the climax!
At the end of the chapter, sir asked the class, “what will u do if u r walking on the road and an old man (stranger) comes to u to share his so called grief!????”
The bell rang and that was the end of the discussions and the English class that v had in the college. .. he he..
But the question, I must say is worth giving a thought. Practicality or sensitivity?? If u r sensitive, u vl definitely sit to listen to an absolute stranger seeing his/her sad face and the emotions with which the person approaches u. But practically thinking, its not safe to entertain such people. What if that person is a robber and robs u off.. After all, that person is a stranger isn’t it? Does that mean that if a person is practical, the person is insensitive? I mean.. when it comes to this situation, what will u choose for. If u don’t lend ears to the stranger’s words then w.r.t u, u r practical but w.r.t that stranger, u r insensitive!!! Isn’t it????
.jpe)
