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शक्कर के पाँच दाने
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About the author
Manav Kaul
32 books403 followersकश्मीर के बारामूला में पैदा हुए मानव कौल, होशंगाबाद (म.प्र.) में परवरिश के रास्ते पिछले 20 सालों से मुंबई में फ़िल्मी दुनिया, अभिनय, नाट्य-निर्देशन और लेखन का अभिन्न हिस्सा बने हुए हैं। अपने हर नए नाटक से हिंदी रंगमंच की दुनिया को चौंकाने वाले मानव ने अपने ख़ास गद्य के लिए साहित्य-पाठकों के बीच भी उतनी ही विशेष जगह बनाई है। इनकी पिछली दोनों किताबें ‘ठीक तुम्हारे पीछे’ और ‘प्रेम कबूतर’ दैनिक जागरण नीलसन बेस्टसेलर में शामिल हो चुकी हैं।
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Displaying 1 - 5 of 5 reviews
May 30, 2021
अच्छा किसी को कैसे पता चलता है कि उसमें अकल आ गई ? क्योंकि ये कोई बल्ब तो है नहीं कि बटन दबाओ और कह दो कि अरे लाईट आ गई – अरे अकल आ गई। कैसे पता चलता है ??
July 24, 2024
शक्कर के चार दाने
मानव कॉल
So friend recommended this one ages ago and I finished it 80% the first time around but I finally got around reading it cover to cover yesterday.
So ... initial impression first time around was _"hmm ... rambling shit and giggles"_ and didn't even managed to finish a 16 page short story.
This time around it was just _"what the fuck??? WHAT THE FUCKKK !!??? Why must you attack and hurt me like this"_ after every few lines.
So I think on the surface level the short story is a simple narration of seemingly uneventful events through the eyes of a slow (derogatory) 30 something guy living in rural Bharat.
But if you're going through some shit you'll pick up every little seemingly unimportant thing that happens in this short story and find that deeper meaning staring right in your fucken soul, asking how's the mid life crisis going.
Tldr; yeah you should read it. It's gonna be a good hindi reading practice that you've been avoiding since the eighth grade. Best case scenario, you read a mindless hindi short story and now someone (probably your mum) is proud of you. Worst case scenario, you read a mindless hindi short story and end up feeling the the kind of emptiness and loneliness that your casual dating app subscription isn't gonna be able to help out with.
But that's fine.
5/5 would recommend. The way I saw it, to me this is high art.
The author begins by saying that he feels content. He's at peace. But this feeling of peace easily transitions to a state of negation of emotions. This feeling of peace and content state transitions into feeling nothing. Feeling dead.
I wondered if the author was a philosopher. As this is pretty solid logic. Rudyard Kipling suggested to treat the imposters (triumph and disaster) the same, but wouldn't that lead to a life of monotone; devoid of the colour of emotions? But the author quickly dismisses this notion. The story quickly transitions to the introduction of side characters and establishing that the author isn't as intellectually equipped as even the villagers around him. This are just .... his thoughts and feelings as events and people unfold around him.
And this theme of philosophy in seemingly unimportant moments in his life is the driving force of this short story.
The author feels average. Mediocre. Not good. Not bad. Just. Average.
Well isn't that the story of all of us? Gifted as a child but utterly average as an adult. The average which is measured by that sliding scale of convenience. Isn't that average this nation as a whole as well as an individual state? The sliding scale still there doing thy bidding.
Many of us see this nation as a failed state. "जिसे आप शून्य और मैं ठीक कहता हूँ”। Might be a failed state to you. Might be just average in reality. Perhaps we are too harsh on the state. Perhaps we are too harsh on ourselves.
The author is questioned how does one measure wisdom? "अगर आपको पुराना किया चूतियापा लगने लगे तो समझो अक़्ल आ गई”। The race shouldn't ideally be against the world. It is from ourself. I was/am/will be cringe and that is okay.
In his pure view of the world, the author fails to understand why his uncle represses his crying. Unnecessary masculinity doesn't make sense in a pure world. The author touches on unnecessary female subjugation, seeing his mother in a boat with holes, holding a mug trying to put the water out. The boat is her house where she lives and will die. The water are the chores. Endless. Unrelenting. Her entire identity.
But the author's identify isn't so limited. He has friends. He sends futile messages to outer space. He has a friend in his failed poet uncle who keeps him around to soundboard his poems which no one else will listen. He has his mother who is more invested in the house chores than him. He has a senile friend who keeps the author around to ramble about his obsession. He has an broken English speaking Christian friend from school whom he views like a god incarnate.
But as one by one these people leave his side, he realises for the first time loneliness is. “जूता जब काटता है तो ज़िंदगी काटना मुश्किल हो जाता है। और जब जूता काटना बंद कर दे तो वक़्त काटना मुश्किल हो जाता है“। However these temptations were, whatever these शक्कर के दाने were, these people still made life slightly more colourful. These people made life not feel as dead.
The story is as incoherent and broken in order as this review. I liked the story cuz it dropped reality of (the bane of) life in these seemingly innocent fun like verses. One moment my dude is playing with ants and the next moment is "ये गाँव एसा लगता है कि छूटे हुए लोगों से बसा हुआ है। जैसे रेत का ट्रक चलते हुए काफ़ी रेत पीछे छोड़ता जाता है, वेसे ही रेत के समान छूटे हुए लोग इकट्ठा हो कर ये गाँव बन गया”। And then you think about your own life and how sometimes you feel like a plastic bag ... drifting through the wind.
This story will make you ponder. Only if you want to do that tho. And that's the beauty of this story. If you don't want to, then it is just some dumb tale of some dumb guy who doesn't really matter all that much.
And that's a good thing. In the greater scheme of things probably.
मानव कॉल
So friend recommended this one ages ago and I finished it 80% the first time around but I finally got around reading it cover to cover yesterday.
So ... initial impression first time around was _"hmm ... rambling shit and giggles"_ and didn't even managed to finish a 16 page short story.
This time around it was just _"what the fuck??? WHAT THE FUCKKK !!??? Why must you attack and hurt me like this"_ after every few lines.
So I think on the surface level the short story is a simple narration of seemingly uneventful events through the eyes of a slow (derogatory) 30 something guy living in rural Bharat.
But if you're going through some shit you'll pick up every little seemingly unimportant thing that happens in this short story and find that deeper meaning staring right in your fucken soul, asking how's the mid life crisis going.
Tldr; yeah you should read it. It's gonna be a good hindi reading practice that you've been avoiding since the eighth grade. Best case scenario, you read a mindless hindi short story and now someone (probably your mum) is proud of you. Worst case scenario, you read a mindless hindi short story and end up feeling the the kind of emptiness and loneliness that your casual dating app subscription isn't gonna be able to help out with.
But that's fine.
5/5 would recommend. The way I saw it, to me this is high art.
The author begins by saying that he feels content. He's at peace. But this feeling of peace easily transitions to a state of negation of emotions. This feeling of peace and content state transitions into feeling nothing. Feeling dead.
I wondered if the author was a philosopher. As this is pretty solid logic. Rudyard Kipling suggested to treat the imposters (triumph and disaster) the same, but wouldn't that lead to a life of monotone; devoid of the colour of emotions? But the author quickly dismisses this notion. The story quickly transitions to the introduction of side characters and establishing that the author isn't as intellectually equipped as even the villagers around him. This are just .... his thoughts and feelings as events and people unfold around him.
And this theme of philosophy in seemingly unimportant moments in his life is the driving force of this short story.
The author feels average. Mediocre. Not good. Not bad. Just. Average.
Well isn't that the story of all of us? Gifted as a child but utterly average as an adult. The average which is measured by that sliding scale of convenience. Isn't that average this nation as a whole as well as an individual state? The sliding scale still there doing thy bidding.
Many of us see this nation as a failed state. "जिसे आप शून्य और मैं ठीक कहता हूँ”। Might be a failed state to you. Might be just average in reality. Perhaps we are too harsh on the state. Perhaps we are too harsh on ourselves.
The author is questioned how does one measure wisdom? "अगर आपको पुराना किया चूतियापा लगने लगे तो समझो अक़्ल आ गई”। The race shouldn't ideally be against the world. It is from ourself. I was/am/will be cringe and that is okay.
In his pure view of the world, the author fails to understand why his uncle represses his crying. Unnecessary masculinity doesn't make sense in a pure world. The author touches on unnecessary female subjugation, seeing his mother in a boat with holes, holding a mug trying to put the water out. The boat is her house where she lives and will die. The water are the chores. Endless. Unrelenting. Her entire identity.
But the author's identify isn't so limited. He has friends. He sends futile messages to outer space. He has a friend in his failed poet uncle who keeps him around to soundboard his poems which no one else will listen. He has his mother who is more invested in the house chores than him. He has a senile friend who keeps the author around to ramble about his obsession. He has an broken English speaking Christian friend from school whom he views like a god incarnate.
But as one by one these people leave his side, he realises for the first time loneliness is. “जूता जब काटता है तो ज़िंदगी काटना मुश्किल हो जाता है। और जब जूता काटना बंद कर दे तो वक़्त काटना मुश्किल हो जाता है“। However these temptations were, whatever these शक्कर के दाने were, these people still made life slightly more colourful. These people made life not feel as dead.
The story is as incoherent and broken in order as this review. I liked the story cuz it dropped reality of (the bane of) life in these seemingly innocent fun like verses. One moment my dude is playing with ants and the next moment is "ये गाँव एसा लगता है कि छूटे हुए लोगों से बसा हुआ है। जैसे रेत का ट्रक चलते हुए काफ़ी रेत पीछे छोड़ता जाता है, वेसे ही रेत के समान छूटे हुए लोग इकट्ठा हो कर ये गाँव बन गया”। And then you think about your own life and how sometimes you feel like a plastic bag ... drifting through the wind.
This story will make you ponder. Only if you want to do that tho. And that's the beauty of this story. If you don't want to, then it is just some dumb tale of some dumb guy who doesn't really matter all that much.
And that's a good thing. In the greater scheme of things probably.
This entire review has been hidden because of spoilers.
May 17, 2020
Great play. Perfectly knit.
Want to read
May 11, 2019What to know the story behind this
Displaying 1 - 5 of 5 reviews