Indianisation of The Gift of The Magi
Indianisation of The Gift of The Magi
HS English Project Indianisation of The Gift of The Magi ; Indianisation of a short story The Gift of the Magi
Five thousand and eighty-seven rupee. That was all. Money saved one and two at a time by bulldozing the grocer and the vegetable man and the butcher until one’s cheeks burned with the silent imputation of parsimony that such close dealing implied. Three times Rina counted it. One thousand and two hundred rupee. And the next day would be Durgapuja .
There was clearly nothing to do but flop down on the shabby little couch and howl. So Rina did it. Which instigates the moral reflection that life is made up of sobs, sniffles, and smiles, with sniffles predominating.
While the mistress of the home is gradually subsiding from the first stage to the second, take a look at the home. A furnished flat at 2000 rupee per month. It did not exactly beggar description, but it certainly had that word on the lookout for the mendicancy squad.
In the vestibule below was a letter-box into which no letter would go, and an electric button from which no mortal finger could coax a ring. Also appertaining thereunto was a card bearing the name “Mr. Saheb Chakraborty .” Now, when the income was shrunk to 5000 rupee, the letters of name plate looked blurred. But whenever Saheb came home and reached his flat above he was called “Saheb” and greatly hugged by his mrs Rina. Which is all very good.
Indianisation of The Gift of The Magi
Rina finished her cry and attended to her cheeks with the powder rag. She stood by the window and looked out dully at a grey cat walking a grey fence in a grey backyard. Tomorrow would be Durgapuja , and she had only 2000 rupee with which to buy Jim a present. She had been saving every single rupee she could for months, with this result. Expenses had been greater than she had calculated. They always are. Only more thousand rupee to buy a present for Saheb. Her Saheb. Many a happy hour she had spent planning for something nice for him. Something fine and rare and sterling—something just a little bit near to being worthy of the honour of being owned by Saheb.
Suddenly she whirled from the window and stood before the glass. Her eyes were shining brilliantly, but her face had lost its colour within twenty seconds. Rapidly she pulled down her hair and let it fall to its full length.
Indianisation of The Gift of The Magi
Now, there were two possessions of them in which they both took a mighty pride. One was Saheb’s gold watch that had been his father’s and his grandfather’s. The other was Rina’s hair.So now Rina’s beautiful hair fell about her, rippling and shining like a cascade of black waters. It reached below her knee and made itself almost a garment for her. And then she did it up again nervously and quickly. Once she faltered for a minute and stood still while a tear or two splashed on the worn red carpet.
With a whirl of skirts and with the brilliant sparkle still in her eyes, she fluttered out the door and down the stairs to the street.
Where she stopped the sign read: “ Sundori Enterprises . Hair Goods of All Kinds.” One flight up Rina ran, and collected herself, panting.
“Will you buy my hair?” asked Rina to the owner of the Sundori Enterprises.
“I buy hair,” said the owner. “Take yer hat off and let’s have a sight at the looks of it.”
Rina did so. “Two thousand rupee,” said the owner lifting the mass with a practised hand.
“Give it to me quick,” said Rina .
HS English Project Indianisation of The Gift of The MagiIndianisation of a short story The Gift of the Magi
Oh, and the next two hours tripped by on rosy wings. Forget the hashed metaphor. She was ransacking the stores for Jim’s present.
She found it at last. It surely had been made for Jim and no one else. There was no other like it in any of the stores, and she had turned all of them inside out. It was a platinum fob chain simple and chaste in design, properly proclaiming its value by substance alone and not by meretricious ornamentation—as all good things should do. It was even worthy of The Watch. As soon as she saw it she knew that it must be Saheb’s. It was like him. Quietness and value—the description applied to both. Three thousand rupee they took from her for it, and she hurried home . With that chain on his watch Saheb might be properly anxious about the time in any company. Grand as the watch was, he sometimes looked at it on the sly on account of the old leather strap that he used in place of a chain.
When Rina reached home her intoxication gave way a little to prudence and reason. She got out her curling irons and lighted the gas and went to work repairing the ravages made by generosity added to love. Which is always a tremendous task, dear friends—a mammoth task.
Within forty minutes her head was covered with tiny, close-lying curls that made her look wonderfully like a truant schoolboy. She looked at her reflection in the mirror long, carefully, and critically.
“If Saheb doesn’t kill me,” she said to herself, “before he takes a second look at me, he’ll say I look like a truant schoolboy. But what could I do—oh! what could I do with the rest of thousand rupee !
At 7 o’clock the tea was made and the frying-pan was on the back of the stove hot and ready to cook the meal .
HS English Project Indianisation of The Gift of The MagiIndianisation of a short story The Gift of the Magi
Saheb was never late. Rina doubled the fob chain in her hand and sat on the corner of the table near the door that he always entered. Then she heard his step on the stair away down on the first flight, and she turned white for just a moment. She had a habit for saying little silent prayers about the simplest everyday things, and now she whispered: “Please God, make him think I am still pretty.”
The door opened and Saheb stepped in and closed it. He looked thin and very serious. Poor fellow, he was only twenty-two—and to be burdened with a family!
Saheb stopped inside the door, as immovable as a setter at the scent of quail. His eyes were fixed upon Rina, and there was an expression in them that she could not read, and it terrified her. It was not anger, nor surprise, nor disapproval, nor horror, nor any of the sentiments that she had been prepared for. He simply stared at her fixedly with that peculiar expression on his face.
Rina wriggled off the table and went for him.
“Saheb, darling,” she cried, “don’t look at me that way. I had my hair cut off and sold because I couldn’t have lived through Durgapuja without giving you a present. It’ll grow out again—you won’t mind, will you? I just had to do it. My hair grows awfully fast. Saheb, let’s be happy. You don’t know what a nice—what a beautiful, nice gift I’ve got for you.”
“You’ve cut off your hair?” asked Saheb, laboriously, as if he had not arrived at that patent fact yet even after the hardest mental labor.
“Cut it off and sold it,” said Rina. “Don’t you like me just as well, anyhow? I’m me without my hair, ain’t I?”
Saheb looked about the room curiously.
“You say your hair is gone?” he said, with an air almost of idiocy.
“You needn’t look for it,” said Rina. “It’s sold, I tell you—sold and gone, too. It’s Durgapuja , boy. Be good to me, for it went for you. Maybe the hairs of my head were numbered,” she went on with sudden serious sweetness, “but nobody could ever count my love for you. ''
Out of his trance Saheb seemed quickly to wake. He enfolded his Rina. For ten seconds let us regard with discreet scrutiny some inconsequential object in the other direction. The magi brought valuable gifts, but that was not among them. This dark assertion will be illuminated later on.
Saheb drew a package from his pocket and threw it upon the table.
“Don’t make any mistake, Rina,” he said, “about me. I don’t think there’s anything in the way of a haircut or a shave or a shampoo that could make me like my girl any less. But if you’ll unwrap that package you may see why you had me going a while at first.”
White fingers and nimble tore at the string and paper. And then an ecstatic scream of joy; and then, alas! a quick feminine change to hysterical tears and wails, necessitating the immediate employment of all the comforting powers of the lord of the flat.
For there lay The Combs—the set of combs, side and back, that Rina had worshipped long . Beautiful combs, pure tortoise shell, with jewelled rims—just the shade to wear in the beautiful vanished hair. They were expensive combs, she knew, and her heart had simply craved and yearned over them without the least hope of possession. And now, they were hers, but the tresses that should have adorned the coveted adornments were gone.
“You’ve cut off your hair?” asked Saheb, laboriously, as if he had not arrived at that patent fact yet even after the hardest mental labor.
“Cut it off and sold it,” said Rina. “Don’t you like me just as well, anyhow? I’m me without my hair, ain’t I?”
Saheb looked about the room curiously.
“You say your hair is gone?” he said, with an air almost of idiocy.
“You needn’t look for it,” said Rina. “It’s sold, I tell you—sold and gone, too. It’s Durgapuja , boy. Be good to me, for it went for you. Maybe the hairs of my head were numbered,” she went on with sudden serious sweetness, “but nobody could ever count my love for you. ''
Out of his trance Saheb seemed quickly to wake. He enfolded his Rina. For ten seconds let us regard with discreet scrutiny some inconsequential object in the other direction. The magi brought valuable gifts, but that was not among them. This dark assertion will be illuminated later on.
Saheb drew a package from his pocket and threw it upon the table.
“Don’t make any mistake, Rina,” he said, “about me. I don’t think there’s anything in the way of a haircut or a shave or a shampoo that could make me like my girl any less. But if you’ll unwrap that package you may see why you had me going a while at first.”
HS English Project Indianisation of The Gift of The MagiIndianisation of a short story The Gift of the Magi
White fingers and nimble tore at the string and paper. And then an ecstatic scream of joy; and then, alas! a quick feminine change to hysterical tears and wails, necessitating the immediate employment of all the comforting powers of the lord of the flat.
For there lay The Combs—the set of combs, side and back, that Rina had worshipped long . Beautiful combs, pure tortoise shell, with jewelled rims—just the shade to wear in the beautiful vanished hair. They were expensive combs, she knew, and her heart had simply craved and yearned over them without the least hope of possession. And now, they were hers, but the tresses that should have adorned the coveted adornments were gone.
But she hugged them to her bosom, and at length she was able to look up with dim eyes and a smile and say: “My hair grows so fast, Saheb!”
And then Rina leaped up like a little singed cat and cried, “Oh, oh!”
Saheb had not yet seen his beautiful present. She held it out to him eagerly upon her open palm. The dull precious metal seemed to flash with a reflection of her bright and ardent spirit.
“Isn’t it a dandy, Saheb ? I hunted all over town to find it. You’ll have to look at the time a hundred times a day now. Give me your watch. I want to see how it looks on it.”
Instead of obeying, Saheb tumbled down on the couch and put his hands under the back of his head and smiled.
“Rina,” said he, “let’s put our presents away and keep ’em a while. They’re too nice to use just at present. I sold the watch to get the money to buy your combs.
The magi, as you know, were wise men—wonderfully wise men—who brought gifts to the Babe in the manger. They invented the art of giving Christmas presents. Being wise, their gifts were no doubt wise ones, possibly bearing the privilege of exchange in case of duplication. And here I have lamely related to you the uneventful chronicle of two foolish children in a flat who most unwisely sacrificed for each other the greatest treasures of their house. But in a last word to the wise of these days let it be said that of all who give gifts these two were the wisest. Of all who give and receive gifts, such as they are wisest. Everywhere they are wisest. They are the magi.
Instead of obeying, Saheb tumbled down on the couch and put his hands under the back of his head and smiled.
“Rina,” said he, “let’s put our presents away and keep ’em a while. They’re too nice to use just at present. I sold the watch to get the money to buy your combs.
The magi, as you know, were wise men—wonderfully wise men—who brought gifts to the Babe in the manger. They invented the art of giving Christmas presents. Being wise, their gifts were no doubt wise ones, possibly bearing the privilege of exchange in case of duplication. And here I have lamely related to you the uneventful chronicle of two foolish children in a flat who most unwisely sacrificed for each other the greatest treasures of their house. But in a last word to the wise of these days let it be said that of all who give gifts these two were the wisest. Of all who give and receive gifts, such as they are wisest. Everywhere they are wisest. They are the magi.
2 comments
In Bengali translation of this story the pronunciation of the word 'magi' is wrong. The correct pronunciation is 'majai'i.e (ম্যাজাই),not (মাগি). 'Magi' is the plural form of the word 'Magus'. This should be corrected.
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