Indianization of Selfish giant .
H.S. English Project .
H.S. English Project : Indianization of a short story : Selfish Giant
Indianization of Selfish Giant :- ( Original text Oscar Wilde )
There was a small city and at the western end of the city , there was a beautiful garden full with trees , flowers and fruits. All the young boys and girls loved the garden. Every afternoon, as they were coming from school, the children used to go and play cricket in the garden. It was a large lovely garden, with soft green grass. Here and there, over the grass stood beautiful flowers like stars and there were twelve mango trees that in the Springtime broke out into sweet blossoms that attracted thousands of bees and in the Summer bore juicy fruits that attracted birds in daylight and bats at night. The birds sat on the trees and sang so sweetly that the children used to stop their games in order to listen to them. “How happy we are here!" they cried to each other.
But there was an another character called Kalia . He did not like the matter that children used to play in his garden . One day, Kalia came back. He had been to visit his friend Kallu Sardar and had stayed with him for more than one month . After the one month was over, he had said all that he had to say, for his conversation was limited and he was determined to return to his own garden. When he arrived, he saw the children playing in the garden.
“What are you doing here?" he cried in a very gruff voice and the children ran away. "My own garden is my own garden," said the Giant, "anyone can understand that and I will allow nobody to play in it but myself.” So, he built a high wall all round it and put up a notice-board.
TRESPASSERS
will be PROSECUTED
He was a very selfish man. Children used to called him 'Giant ' .
The poor children had now nowhere to play. They tried to play on the road, but the road was very dusty and full of hard stones, they could neither bowl nor bat on it and they did not like it. They used to wander round the high walls when their lessons were over and talk about the beautiful garden inside. "How happy we were there!" they said to each other.
Then the Spring came and all over the country there were little blossoms and little birds. Only in the garden of Kalia , scorching Summer entered. The birds did not care to sing in it as there were no children and the trees forgot to blossom. Once a beautiful flower put its head out from the grass, but when it saw the noticeboard it was so sorry for the children that it slipped back into the ground again and went off to sleep. The only people who were pleased were the scorching heat and the violent dust storm. “Spring has forgotten this garden," they cried, “so we will live here all the year round." The searing heat almost burned the trees and the dust storm covered up the grass with grey and dreary cloak. Then they invited the 'Kaalboisakhi' to stay with them and he came. He came like a
great black giant and he roared all day about the garden and littered the garden with leaves and broken branches. "This is a delightful spot," he said, "we must ask the Hail on a visit." So the Hail came. Every day for three hours he rattled on the roof of the Kalia's cottage till he broke most of the slates and then he ran round and round the garden as fast as he could go.
"I cannot understand why the Spring has not come." said Kalia, as he sat at the window and looked out at his dirty, bare garden; "I hope there will be a change in the weather."
But the Spring never came, nor the Autumn or the Winter. The Summer gave colourful fruits to every garden but to the Kalia's garden, she gave none. "He is too selfish," she said. So, it was always barren there and the 'Kaalboisakhi' and the Hail and the scorching summer and the dust storm danced about through the trees.
One morning, Kalia was lying awake in bed when he heard some lovely music. It sounded so sweet to his ears that he thought it must be the wonderful musicians passing by. It was really only a little Doyel singing outside his window, but it was so long since he had heard a bird sing in his garden that it seemed to him to be the most beautiful music in the world. Then, the Hail stopped dancing over his head and 'Kaalboisakhi' ceased roaring and a delicious perfume came to him through the open window. “I believe the Spring has come at last," said Kalia; and he jumped out of bed and looked out. What did he see?
He saw a most wonderful sight. Through a little hole in the wall, the children had crept in and they were sitting in the branches of the trees. In every tree that he could see, there was a little child. And the
the trees were so glad to have the children back again that they had covered themselves with blossoms and were waving their arms gently above the children's heads. The birds were flying about and twittering with delight and the flowers were looking up through the green grass and laughing. It was a lovely scene, only in one corner it was still Summer. It was the farthest corner of the garden and in it was standing a little boy. He was so small that he could not reach up to the branches of the tree and he was wandering all round it, crying bitterly. The poor tree was still leafless and 'Kaalboisakhi' was blowing and roaring above it. "Climb up! little boy," said the Tree, and it bent its branches down as low as it could; but the boy was too tiny.
Then Kalia's heart melted as he looked out. "How selfish I have been!” he said, “now I know why the Spring would not come here. I will put the poor little boy on the top of the tree and then I will knock down the wall and my garden shall be the children's playground for ever and ever." He was really very sorry for what he had done.
So he crept downstairs and opened the front door quite softly and went out into the garden. But when the children saw him, they were so frightened that they all ran away and the garden became fiery Summer again. Only the little boy did not run, for his eyes were so full of tears that he did not see that Kalia was coming. And Kalia stole up behind him and took him gently in his hand and put him up into the tree. And the tree broke at once into blossom and the birds came and sang on it and the little boy stretched out his two arms and flung them round the Giant's neck and kissed him. And the other children, when they saw that Kalia was not wicked any longer, came running back and with them, came the Spring. "It is your garden now, little children," said the Giant and he took a great hammer and knocked down the wall. And when the people were going to market at twelve o'clock, they found Kalia playing cricket with the children in the most beautiful garden they had ever seen.
All day long they played and in the evening, they came to Kalia to bid him goodbye. "But where is your little companion," he said, "the boy I put into the tree?" Kalia loved him the most because he had kissed him.
“We don't know," answered the children, "he has gone away."
“You must tell him to be sure to come tomorrow," said Kalia. But the children said that they did not know where he lived and had never seen him before; and Kalia felt very sad.
Every afternoon, when school was over, the children came and played with Kalia. But the little boy whom he loved was never seen again. Kalia was very kind to all the children, yet he longed for his first little friend and often spoke of him. "How I would like to see him!” he would say.
Years went over and Kalia grew very old and feeble. He could not play about any more, so he sat in a huge arm-chair and watched the children at their games and admired his garden. "I have many beautiful flowers," he said; "but the children are the most beautiful flowers of all."
One Summer morning, he looked out of his window as he was preparing hand fans with palm leaves. He did not hate the Summer now, for he knew that the monsoon would come soon and the trees would make the world dark green. Suddenly, he rubbed his eyes in wonder and looked and looked. It certainly was a marvelous sight. In the farthest corner of the garden, was a tree quite covered with lovely white blossoms. Its branches were golden and silver fruit hung down from them and underneath it stood the little boy he had loved.
Kalia ran downstairs in great joy and out into the garden. He hastened across the grass and came near to the child. And when he came quite close his face grew red with anger and he said, "Who has dared to wound thee?" For on the palms of the child's hands were the prints of two nails and the prints of two nails were on the little feet.
"Who has dared to wound thee?" cried Kalia ; "tell me, that I may take my big sword and slay him."
“Nay!” answered the child: "but these are the Wounds of Love."
“Who are you?" said Kalia and a strange awe fell on him and he knelt before the little child. And the child smiled at Kalia and said to him, "You let me play once in your garden, today you shall come with me to my garden, which is Paradise."
And when the children ran in that afternoon, they found Kalia lying dead under the tree, all covered with white blossoms.
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