Böcker av Shankar Patil

THE SOCIETY WHERE WE LIVE WITH OTHERS WE COME ACROSS MANY PEOPLE, SOME ARE EASILY UNDERSTANDABLE WHILE SOME SEEM TO BE FATHOMLESS. THE ROADS THAT WE PLAN TO RIDE ACROSS SOMETIMES RESEMBLE THE FATHOMLESS CHARACTERS. SO MUCH THAT AT TIMES, WE MAY FIND OUT THE DEPTH OF THESE FATHOMLESS PEOPLE BUT WILL NOT BE ABLE TO FIND OUT THE LENGTH OF THESE TRACKS. THESE ARE THE PATHWAYS TRAILED BY THE PEDESTRIANS OVER THE AGES AND ARE ENDLESS. IT IS MEANINGLESS TO ATTEMPT MEASURING THEIR LENGTHS, NO ONE HAS EVER TRIED TO MEASURE THEM. THE STATE HIGHWAYS, THE NNATIONAL HIGHWAYS ARE ALL MEASURED AND MARKED WITH THE MILESTONES, BUT NOT THE PATHWAY CREATED BY THE TRAILS. THE ZIGZAG PATHWAY MAKES THE MEASUREMENT IMPOSSIBLE. HAVE YOU EVER TRIED TO WATCH THE WAY A TRAIL WINDS ITSELF ALONG THE LINE? SOMETIMES IT SWAYS ALONG THE WAY WHILE SOMETIMES ALL OF A SUDDEN IT SIMPLY DISAPPEARS FROM OUR SIGHT. AT MOMENTS, IT BEHAVES IN AN ELEGANT LADYLIKE MANNER WHILE AT TIMES, IT HAS THE NAUGHTINESS SURROUNDING IT. YOU WILL FIND HER TURNING BACK AT MOMENTS MAKING IT SURE THAT YOU ARE STILL FOLLOWING HER. WILL YOU BE ABLE TO MEASURE HER?

GARVEL, A TYPE OF VEIL WHICH KEEPS THE SURROUNDINGS COOL WAS THERE SINCE SHIVA’S CHILDHOOD. NOW IT HAD REACHED THE HUGE TAMARIND TREE AND HAD ACTUALLY HALFCOVERED IT. IT HAD CLEVERLY AND ARTISTICALLY WOVEN ITSELF THROUGH THE DENSE BRANCHING OF THE TAMARIND, OCCUPYING EVERY INCH OF ITS BLOSSOM. SO MANY YEARS HAVE PASSED. IT WAS STILL STANDING ERECT, FACING THE STORMS, READING BETWEEN THE RAINS. IT WAS MANY TIMES TORN APART FROM THE STORMY WINDS AND THE TORRENTIAL RAINS. YET, IT WAS THERE, FACING EVERYTHING BRAVELY. NEITHER THE WINDS NOR THE RAINS HAVE BEEN ABLE TO ROOT IT OUT OF ITS BIRTHPLACE. BUT NOW THE STORY HAD TAKEN ANOTHER ROUTE, COMPLETELY. THE FAMINE SINCE THE LAST THREE YEARS WAS STARTING TO SHOW ITS EFFECT DESTRUCTING THE GARVEL. THERE WAS HARDLY ANY TINGE OF GREEN LEFT, FORGET THE FLOWERS. THE BRANCHES WERE AS GOOD AS THE DRIED STICKS. IT WAS SOMEHOW SURVIVING, LOOKING FORWARD TO THE DRY SUMMER PASS AWAY. IT WAS SURE OF FLOURISHING THROUGHOUT THE MONSOON, IF IT COULD ENDURE THROUGH THE SCORCHING SUMMER. BUT THIS WAS NOT TO HAPPEN. THE FAMINE CONTINUED THROUGHOUT. THE SUN BAKED EVERYTHING. IT MADE THE GARVEL LIMP AND GO LAME, IT LOST ITS LAST STRUGGLE AND SLID DOWN FROM THE AGEOLD TAMARIND TREE GIVING AWAY ITS VERY LIVING. IT WAS SO SUDDEN; THE OLD TAMARIND LAY FLABBERGASTED OVER THIS LOSS.

NO SOONER DID SARJA SAT DOWN; THE WHIP STARTED ITS WORK OVER ITS BACK SEASONED WITH THE CONTINUOUS THRASHING OVER THE YEARS. BLOOD DROPLETS STARTED OOZING OUT FROM THE MARKS MADE BY THE WHIP. AS IF THIS WAS NOT ENOUGH, THE WIDE STICK PLAYED ITS PART IN HURTING IT. THROUGHOUT THIS HARASSMENT, SARJA REMAINED MOTIONLESS; AS ALWAYS. IT NEITHER TURNED, NOR MOVED. THIS HAD BECOME A ROUTINE. PEOPLE HAD STARTED CALLING THE IMMOVABLE OX. ITS OLD AGE WAS BLEMISHED BY THIS. WHEN THE MONSOON BROUGHT RAINS WITH IT, SARJA WAS LEFT IN A HOPELESS CONDITION. NO ONE HAD TIME TO FEED IT. THE OPTION OF EITHER THE HAY HALF EATEN BY THE BUFFALOES OR THE OIL CAKES SOAKED IN THE EXCRETIONS OF THE COWS WERE OPEN FOR IT. THOUGH THE HUNGER COMPELLED IT TO EAT AND EVEN ENJOY IT SOMETIMES, THE HUNGER WAS NEVER SATISFIED. THE ENDLESS WORK WAS ALSO TAKING ITS TOLL. NOW SARJA COULD EITHER STAND OR SIT DOWN.

THE "PATIL` OF THE VILLAGE, VERY SHREWD, CONNOISSEUR, FLIRT! FALLS IN LOVE WITH A FRIVOLOUS WOMAN, AND MARRIES HER, IN SPITE OF BEING MARRIED. THIS STORY PRESENTS HIS DISMAY IN LOOKING AFTER BOTH THE WIVES. THIS IS A DRAMA BY THE FAMOUS AUTHOR SHANKAR PATIL WITH HIS MIDAS TOUCH, FULL OF DIALOGUES, TUSSLES, LAWANIS, AND THE EVER SPECIAL RURAL LANGUAGE, AS THE TITLE SUGGESTS…..

THE SKY THE NAME SHANKAR PATIL IS NOW WELL RECOGNIZED IN THE WORLD OF MARATHI LITERATURE. HIS SAVOUR DIALOGUES AND LANGUAGE WITH ITS RURAL TOUCH BINDS TOGETHER PERFECTLY WELL GIVING IT A DEFINITE TOUCH AND FRESHNESS. HE VERY APTLY COMBINES THE VARIOUS CHANGES IN THE NATURE, THE SOCIAL CHANGES AND THE COMBINED EFFECT OF IT ON THE RURAL LIFE AND CULTURE, IN HIS STORIES. MEMORIES ARE LIKE THE CLOUDS, FULL OF RAINS, READY TO POUR ANYTIME, ENDLESSLY. SOMETIMES, THEY POUR LIGHTLY AND SOMETIMES VERY STRONGLY. BUT THE MEMORIES HAVE THE STRENGTH TO EVOKE THE DEEPEST CORDS, TENDEREST MOMENTS. THE MEANINGS OF MEMORIES CHANGE FROM PERSON TO PERSON YET THEY FILL THE MIND WITH THE RESONANCE OF THE MONOTONOUS RAIN AND THE CLOUDY MIND MERGES INTO THE CLOUDY SKY.

PATIL`S WRITING HAS TWO BANKS, ONE HAVING THE HAPPY SIDE AND ONE HAVING THE SAD SIDE. ONE AWAKENS THE SORROW AND ONE BRINGS CHEERFULNESS. PATIL NEVER WROTE FOR THE SAKE OF HUMOUR, BUT HIS STORIES HAVE MANY UNSEEN SOWN SEEDS OF LAUGHTER. THEY ARE FULL OF THE CONTRAST IN LIFE, THE CONTRAST IS THE CENTRAL THEME OF HIS STORIES. PATIL MUST GET THE CREDIT FOR ADDING THIS CARICATURE TYPE STORIES TO MARATHI LITERATURE. THE HUMORISTS ARE THE WISE MEN OF THE WORLD BECAUSE THE MOST FORCIBLE WAY TO IMPART TRUTH IS THROUGH LAUGH. YES, PATIL PROVES TO THIS TEST. HE IS A VERY CLEVER, ASTUTE, INGENIOUS, NAUGHTY AND MISCHIEVOUS WRITER. THIS BOOK IS A PROOF OF HIS QUALITIES.

SHANKAR PATIL PORTRAYS THE RURAL LIFE AND THE RURALITES AND WE FIND THAT EACH ONE OF THEM HAS BEEN BESTOWED UPON WITH SOME SPECIAL RELIGION. THE AUTHOR POSSESSES THE IMMENSE WORD POWER TO GIVE JUSTICE TO EACH OF THE SPECIAL RELIGION. HE VERY CLEARLY UNDERSTANDS THE TEMPERAMENT OF EACH EXPERIENCE AND COMPLETES THE "HERCULEAN TASK` OF DISCLOSING IT PROPERLY. THROUGH HIS STORIES, THE MEANINGFUL EXPERIENCES OF THESE RURALITES ARE REPRODUCED GENUINELY, ACHIEVING UNIQUENESS. AT THE END, IT SUCCEEDS IN GIVING A SPECIAL FRAGRANCE TO THEIR UNIVERSE, FULL OF HAPPINESS AND SADNESS.

TACTIC XSAMPATRAO THOUGHT OVER IT AGAIN AND AGAIN, HE FIRMLY DECIDED IN HIS MIND, AS STRONGLY AS CEMENT OR CONCRETE. HE STARTED PULLING HIS HAIR, GOING OVER VARIOUS PLANS. HE WANTED NAME AND FAME, AND WAS WORRIED AS IT WAS NOT FEASIBLE EVEN AFTER SPENDING 15 LAC RUPEES. "WHAT SHOULD I DO? HOW SHOULD I DO IT? YES, I MUST FIND SOME IDEA! SOMETHING NOVEL, SOMETHING THAT WOULD LEAVE EVERYBODY SPELLBOUND. IT SHOULD APPEAR IN ALL NEWSPAPERS. MY NAME SHOULD BE ON EVERYBODY`S MIND. MY NAME SHOULD BE PROCLAIMED! IF I AM NOT GOING TO BE FAMOUS, THEN WHAT IS THE USE OF MONEY, ESTATE, SERVANTS, TWO BUNGALOWS, VAST PROPERTY, HUGE INVESTMENT IN GOLD AND SILVER, ORNAMENTS, KASHMIRI CARPETS, ALL THE BEAUTIFUL PIECES COLLECTED FROM ALL OVER THE WORLD..." "WHAT DO I LACK IN`? I OWN THIS ENORMOUS FORTUNE, BUT WHAT IS THE USE? I AM NOT YET FAMOUS. OVERNIGHT, I SHOULD BECOME FAMOUS, MY NAME SHOULD APPEAR IN ALL NEWSPAPERS, I MUST COME UP WITH SOME IDEA!` AND ONE FINE DAY, SAMPATRAO CAME UP WITH A WONDERFUL IDEA!

DUET "IT`S ME, HAVE YOU RECOGNIZED MY VOICE?` "I HAVE COME WITH AN IDEA.` "YOU TAKE YOUR SCHOOL CHILDREN FOR A TRIP FOR 34 DAYS.` "SHALL WE GO TO GOA THEN?` "YOU BE WITH YOUR SCHOOL CHILDREN THROUGHOUT THE DAY, SHOW THEM THE BEACHES AROUND AND AT NIGHT WE WILL STAY AT HOTEL SAMRAT.``

"BY GOD, I DID NOT TOUCH WINE, I DID NOT DRINK IT. UNNECESSARILY DO NOT BLAME ME.` AS RAU KHOT TOTALLY REFUSED EVERYONE PRESENT WAS ASTONISHED, THEY ALL STARTED LAUGHING HEARTILY. SEEING THIS RAU KHOT SAID, "DO NOT LAUGH AT ME, I AM TELLING YOU THE TRUTH. I DID NOT DRINK.` RAMBHAU SAID WITH A SMILE, "MY DEAR, YOUR EYES ARE DECEIVING YOU.` "ANNA, WHAT ARE MY EYES SAYING? NOW JUST SHUT UP FOR GOD`S SAKE.` "OH, YOU MEAN TO SAY THAT WE SHOULD KEEP QUIET TILL YOU ARE OFF THE HANGOVER?` "BUT AS I DID NOT DRINK, SO THERE IS NO QUESTION OF A HANGOVER!` "ARE YOU STILL DENYING THAT YOU ARE HAVING A HANGOVER?` "DO NOT MENTION IT AT ALL. I DID NOT EVEN TOUCH IT, FORGET ABOUT HAVING IT.` ONE OF THE SPECTATORS CAME FORWARD AND SAID LOUDLY, "IF YOU DID NOT EVEN TOUCH IT, THEN WHY WERE YOU HIDING?` "OH! NOW LOOK, WHAT ARE YOU TALKING ABOUT? WHY DO YOU THINK I WAS HIDING?` "YES, YOU WERE HIDING ON THE LOFT, OTHERWISE, WHY WOULD YOU GO THERE?` "WHAT WAS I DOING ON THE LOFT? WHAT A QUESTION, I WAS FAST ASLEEP ON THE LOFT.` "WHY SO? WAS THERE NO SPACE ON THE GROUND BELOW?` "WHY ARE YOU SO CONCERNED WITH IT? IT IS NONE OF YOUR BUSINESS. I WILL SLEEP WHEREVER I PLEASE, BE IT THE GROUND OR THE LOFT.` LISTENING TO RAU`S DIALOGUE EVERYONE AGAIN STARTED LAUGHING HEARTILY.

PATILS`S LITERATURE IS FULL OF CHARM, BEAUTY, ENERGY AND LIVELINESS. HE VERBALIZES HIS LITERATURE IN VIBRANT WORDS. HIS LITERATURE HAS THE SMELL OF TRUE MARATHI SOIL. THE COLOURS, THE FRAGRANCE AND THE FLOW PRESENT IT VERY SMARTLY. HIS LANGUAGE HAS A TYPICAL MARATHI FLAVOUR, IT FLOWS CONTINUOUSLY IN A NARRATIVE STYLE, IT HAS A RHYTHM, THUS MAKING MARATHI LITERATURE MORE WHOLESOME, COMPETENT AND AFFLUENT. ALL THESE QUALITIES HAVE MADE HIM VERY POPULAR.

VILLAGERS OFTEN USE"CHANCHI`, A BAG SEWN FROM CLOTH HAVING MANY POCKETS. WHENEVER SOMEONE WANTS TO EAT "VIDA` HE TAKES OUT THE DESIRED MATERIAL FROM THE VARIOUS POCKETS OF THE "CHANCHI` AND HAS HIS "VIDA`. SHANKAR PATIL HAS PRESERVED MANY EXPERIENCES DEEP IN HIS MIND JUST LIKE THE"CHANCHI`. HE USES THEM TO MAKE HIS WRITING SAVOURY. OPENING PATIL`S MODERN "CHANCHI` WITH THE SPECIAL KOLHAPURI LANGUAGE, GUARANTEES AN INTERESTING READING.

WEIR. "WHO IS THERE IN YOUR HOUSE?" "DO YOU POSSESS ANY LAND?" "DO YOU BELIEVE IN GOD?" "LOOK AT THESE CLOTHES FOR THE BABY, THESE FROCKS, THESE CAPS. THE BABY WAS BORN AFTER A LONG TIME, NATURALLY, WE MUST MAKE THIS OCCASION SPECIAL." "HAVE SOME LADDU. MOTHER HAS ESPECIALLY MADE THEM FOR HER DAUGHTERINLAW." "WAIT A MOMENT. LET ME SHOW YOU A NOVEL ITEM, WORTH SEEING!" HE TOOK OUT A BIG MERRY GO ROUND. IT HAD PLASTIC ELEPHANTS, HORSES. WHILE ROTATING IT BROUGHT IMMENSE AFFECTION IN THE EYES OF THE OWNER. SEEING THIS, THE FELLOW TRAVELLER`S EYES ALSO BECAME WET. HE TOOK OUT HIS HANKY FROM HIS POCKET, WIPED HIS EYES AND SAID, "YOU ARE SO ENTHUSIASTIC!" THROUGHOUT THE JOURNEY FOR 23 HOURS, THE FELLOW TRAVELLER WATCHED THIS ASTONISHINGLY. BUT NOW TRAVELLER STOPPED TALKING, HE LOST ALL HIS STRENGTH, HE WAS NOT ABLE TO UTTER A SINGLE WORD, AS IF HIS TONGUE WAS TIED UP. HIS LUGGAGE BECAME UNBEARABLY HEAVY FOR HIM NOW. WHO DIED? HOW WAS HE RELATED? WHOM WAS HE RELATED TO? HE FELT THE PAIN. HE WAS CHOKED WITH EMOTIONS. HE STARTED SOBBING UNCONTROLLABLY. HE STOOD THERE FOR SOME TIME. HE THOUGHT THROUGH HIS SOBS AND THEN WITH A HEAVY MIND STARTED WALKING FORWARD. HAD A WEIR BURST?