Vyankatesh Madgulkar

The biggest shopping should be of the size of an elephant... Tanaji was punished and fined for a crime which he never did; and when he really did a crime, he was released... Foolish Gana wanted to be rich, for that he took relied upon 'Indrajal'. Miree and Suba were very close friends, inspite of their different castes, but it was Bawa who brought it to an end. An assorted platter of many such stories.

They had never thought for once that all their neighbours who were staying close to them, had their houses next to them would one day become their enemies. They always relied upon each other, sought each other's help in difficult times, were always there whenever needed. But today, these same people had become their enemies. For the first time they realized that there was danger from these very people. It was indeed a shock. They were shaken to their core. Never before they had realized, but now they felt that they were orphans. They had nobody whom they would call as their own. Now they had no guarantee of anything. At what time would destiny take a turn and in what way was so very unsure. A big storm was the cause behind this....

WHEN...THE DAYS OF THE BLACK BERRIES COME TO AN END...THEN. IT TAKES A LONG TIME FOR VAMANRAO TO WALK DOWN OVER THE HILL SLOPE...THEN. THE POSTMAN'S NAKED FEET FIND THE COMFORT OF CHAPPALS...THEN. THE 'LADY' WHO NEVER ALLOWED ANYONE TO ENTER HER MIND OR HOUSE CHANGES...THEN. 'VANCHA' WHO HAD NEVER CROSSED ANY LIMITS STARTS WALKING TOWARDS THE MARKET AND EXPRESSES HERSELF FREELY AT THE SAME TIME...THEN. THE FORGOTTEN LOVE ENTERS INTO ANANTROA'S LIFE ONE FINE MORNING...THEN. KALE MASTER BREATHES A SIGH OF RELIEF EVEN WHEN THE CYCLE GETS STOLEN, THE ONE WHICH HE HAD BOUGHT AFTER MUCH STRUGGLE AND FROM HIS MEAGER SAVINGS...THEN ...WHAT HAPPENS THEN? THE PRESENT BOOK IS THE BLOSSOM OF MANY SUCH EXPERIENCES.

All around us, we see people who have aged for all our life. The neem tree here is also one of them. Has anyone seen the tree when it was young, is a doubt that I have about it. It has a huge trunk. All over the trunk you will find many hard knotlike structures. It is as if the neem has reached a certain age and is going to remain like that forever. As if the time for it has stood still. But the month of Chaitra brings some change with it. Many shades of parrot green start appearing all over the ageold neem tree. It spreads a sort of aura all over. It shades a wonderful light. As the scorching sun goes on roasting everyone around, people automatically turn towards the neem tree. Its shadow has mesmerizing effect, that of the air conditioning system.

HER FATHER CAME TO MEET THE MASTER. HE ASKED THE MASTER AS TO WHERE WAS HE SCHEDULED THEN. TO THIS THE MASTER REPLIED THAT ONCE HE SETS OUT, HE WILL SOLELY DEPEND UPON THE WISHES OF ALMIGHTY. THEN HE LOOKED TOWARDS ME AND CALLED ME. HE SAID THAT EARLIER HE HAD TOLD ME THAT I WOULD NOT BE ABLE TO UNDERSTAND THE ACCOUNTS THAT HE HAD BEEN KEEPING FOR ALL THE YEARS. BUT NOW MASTER SAID THAT I SHOULD CARRY ALL THOSE NOTEBOOKS WITH ME, GO THROUGH THEM AS I WOULD NOW BE ABLE TO UNDERSTAND THEM PROPERLY AND THEN MAINTAIN THOSE NOTEBOOKS. THUS HANDING OVER THE ACCOUNT BOOKS, HIS ACCOUNTS FOR HIS LIFE, THE MASTER LEFT OUR VILLAGE. THIS INDEED PUT A FULL-STOP TO MY EDUCATION THOUGH.

I AM A TYPICALLY CAPRICIOUS PERSON. I ENJOY BEING ALOOF FROM THE CROWDS AND GET LOST IN MY OWN WORLD. I LOVE TO PURSUE THINGS THAT SATISFY ME THE MOST AND I SEE MYSELF AS THE PURSUER. WE OFTEN WISH TO HAVE A LONG QUIET MOMENT ADORNING OUR LIFE, YES, WE ALL DO BUT THEN, WE ARE EQUALLY BOUND BY THE LIMITLESS EXPECTATIONS FROM LIFE. WILLINGLY OR UNWILLINGLY, WE HAVE TO START EARNING AND SPEND ALL OUR ENERGY AND ENTHUSIASM IN KEEP LIFE GOING. OUR LIVES ARE ENTANGLED WITH THE TERRIBLE SPEED THAT THE WORLD HAS. EVERYTHING HAS BECOME MECHANICAL AND WE CANNOT DENY BEING A PART OF IT. WE HAVE FORGOTTEN TO ENJOY THE STARLIGHT, LISTEN TO THE SOFT RUSTLING OF THE LEAVES, BATHE IN THE SPRING, WATCH THE STARRY SKY...AND MANY OTHER THINGS. I AM IN NO WAY AN ORNITHOLOGIST OR A BOTANIST. YET, BURIED DEEP IN MY MIND IS MY INFATUATION ABOUT THE JUNGLES. MY QUIRKY MIND OFTEN PONDERS OVER THIS MYSTERIOUS WORLD. IT IS A NEVERENDING THIRST THAT I HAVE ABOUT THIS PARTICULAR LIFE. HERE IS A BRIEF STATING MY CURIOUSITY. IF ANY OF YOU READERS IS INSPIRED WITH THESE JUNGLE STORIES AND SETS TOWARDS JUNGLES IN SEARCH OF THE VASTNESS, RICHNESS AND BEAUTY OF WILDS, THEN IT WILL SURELY BE A WONDERFUL THING.

AS THE RAINS STARTED, THE CAMEL WAS SOAKED WET. NILU SUGGESTED THAT THEY MUST CARRY THE CAMEL SOMEWHERE TO PROVIDE IT SHELTER. BUT ALL THE HOUSES IN THEIR AREA WERE VERY UNDERSIZED. THE CAMEL COULD NOT FIT IN MY HOUSE OR NILU'S HOUSE OR THE TEMPLE. THERE WAS NO SHELTER FOR THE CAMEL. INDEED, THE GOATS, SHEEP, HENS, DOGS HAD SHELTER. EVEN WE HUMAN HAD SHELTER. BUT THE CAMEL.... OH, IT HAD NO SHELTER. BECAUSE IT WAS AN OUTSIDER, BECAUSE IT WAS THE TALLEST OF ALL. THE RAIN STOPPED AFTER A WHILE. IT WAS EVENING NOW. ALL OF A SUDDEN THE CAMEL FOLDED ITS FRONT LEGS. SLOWLY, IT LOWERED ITS HUGE BODY ON THE GROUND. IT SPREAD ITS LONG NECK ON THE GROUND. AFTER CASTING A GLANCE AT ALL OF US, IT JUST CLOSED ITS EYES.

These were people who presented stories before spectators. They used pictures, songs and instrumental playing to relate stories before people. They were known as 'Chitrakathi', but this was some time back, may be a few thousands year. As the years passed, the trends changed, old customs were replaced by new ones. Old was forgotten in the chaos of new. But it was not vanished completely. Cinema today, is the more advanced form of those 'chitrakathi'. Madgulkar reveals the stories behind these cinemas, taking the place of a chitrakathi

BOR OR THE WILD BERRIES HAVE BEEN MUCH EXPERIMENTED AND THE SCIENTISTS HAVE COME FORWARD WITH MORE YIELDING VARIETIES OF BOR IN THE FORM OF UMRAN, KADAKA AND ELAICHI. BUT, I WOULD VOUCH THAT THESE DO NOT TASTE LIKE THE ORIGINAL BOR. THEY TASTE LIKE A GHERKIN INSTEAD. THE ORIGINAL BOR HAS A TYPICAL TASTE AND FLAVOUR. THEY ARE SWEET AND SOUR. THE MOMENT YOU TRY TO TAKE A BITE THEIR TYPICAL FLAVOUR BRINGS TANTALIZING SENSATION. THEY ARE ENOUGH JUICY WITH JUST ENOUGH CORE AND A HARD SEED WHICH YOU CAN KEEP ON CHEWING AT FOR A WHILE. IN PURSUIT OF DEVELOPMENT, OUR FARMERS HAVE LOST SO MANY EXCELLENT VARIETIES. THEIR LIKING TOWARDS JAPANESE RICE HAS MADE THEM FORGET THE GOOD OLD JIRGA VARIETY OF RICE. A WONDERFUL VARIETY DO WE COME ACROSS THE VARIETY OF GROUNDNUT WITH ITS RUGGED SURFACE AND WRINKLED NUT INSIDE? AND THE MANGALVEDHI JOWAR AND KHAPALYA WHEAT? GULBHENDI HURDA AND PUNDYA SUGARCANE? THOSE SWEET, WHITE SWEET POTATO? GREEN GAVRAN BAJRA? IT SEEMS THAT IN THE HUBBUB OF HYBRID (OR HIGH BREED; ONE AND THE SAME) AND HIGH YIELDING WE ARE GOING TO MISS OUT ON OUR GOOD, OLD, WONDERFUL, SPECIAL VARIETIES. मुंग्या या पृथ्वीवर माणसाच्या अगोदरपासूनच्या रहिवासी आहेत आणि एक मुंगी कधी नसते. समाज असतो. मोठं अद्भुत असं सामाजिक जीवन आहे मुंग्यांचं. त्यांच्या समाजात शेती करणा-या, प्राणिसंवर्धन करणाऱ्या, लढणाऱ्या, गुलामगिरी करणाऱ्या, चोरी करणाऱ्या, भीक मागणाऱ्या मुंग्या आहेत. काही कामकरी मुंग्यांची पोटं शरीराच्या मानानं अवाढव्य असतात. त्या हालचाली कमी करतात. इतर साध्या कामकरी मुंग्या बाहेरून मध आणून यांना खाऊ घालतात. मोठ्या पोटाच्या मुंग्या मिळेल तेवढा मध पिऊन घेतात. तो पचत नाही. तसाच राहतो. वारुळातल्या मुंग्यांना जेव्हा खायला मिळत नाही, तेव्हा त्या या मधमुंग्यांना ठार करतात आणि त्यांच्या पोटात साठलेला मध खातात. आपल्याकडे काही आदिवासी या मुंग्या द्रोण भरून बाजारात विकायला आणतात.

BIRDS ARE CLASSIFIED. IN THE SAME WAY WE CAN CLASSIFY THE AUTHORS. THOSE WHO SCRIBBLE WITH BLACK ON WHITE PAPERS. AUTHORS SPECIALIZING MYTHOLOGY: LIKE THE CRANE; AUTHORS SPECIALIZING HISTORICAL WRITING: LIKE THE PAURANIK; AUTHORS SPECIALIZING HUMOUR: LIKE THE PARAKEET; AUTHORS SPECIALIZING MIDDLE CLASS: LIKE THE PIGEON; AUTHORS SPECIALIZING SLUMS: LIKE THE KING EAGLE; AUTHORS SPECIALIZING RURAL WRITINGS: LIKE THE COUNTRY HEN; AUTHORS SPECIALIZING IN CHILDREN'S BOOK: LIKE A FIST; AUTHORS IN GENERAL: LIKE THE TITVI, THE LAPWING; पक्ष्यांचे जसे वर्गीकरण केले जाते, तसे 'पांढऱ्यावर काळे' करणाऱ्या लेखकांचेही होऊ शकते; ते असे पौराणिक लेखक क्रौन्च पक्ष्याएवढा ऐतिहासिक लेखक पौराणिकाएवढा विनोदी लेखक राघूएवढा मध्यमवर्गीय लेखक कबुतराएवढा झोपडपट्टी लेखक राजगिधाडाएवढा ग्रामीण लेखक गावठीकोंबडी एवढा बाल-लेखक मुठीएवढा भरड (खरड) लेखक टिटवीएवढा

Australia, a country of sheep and meadows. What we knew about Australia is what we have heard very often. A country growing all sort of grains, a country where people are free to start any business that they wish to. Go deep down the sea and bring hands full of pearls back. Rear cattle and earn thousands by exporting the meat. Rear sheep and earn from the wool. Start your own 'everything under one roof' shop devoid of size. Or just be a farmer and produce pineapples, wheat, sugar over hundreds of acre. Have your own mine producing the Opel, the semiprecious stone. This country provides opportunity for literally anything. ऑस्ट्रेलिया कसा असेल हा देश? ऐकून माहीत होतं की, जगातली सगळी पिकं ऑस्ट्रेलियात होतात. या देशात माणूस हवा तो उद्योग करू शकतो.... समुद्रात बुड्या मारून मोती काढा, हजारो गुरं पाळून त्यांचं मांस परदेशी पाठवा, हजारो मेंढ्या पाळून लोकरीचं उत्पादन करा, जगातलं लहान, मोठं सबकुछ मिलेगा दुकान चालवा. शेतकरी होऊन शेकडो एकर अननस, गहू, ऊस पिकवा किंवा भांडवल घालून 'ओपेल'खड्यांची खाण चालवा. काहीही करायला या देशात संधी आहे.

A person is born as a litterateur; he is not moulded into one. This process is similar to healthy shoot of banana emerging from the soil, full of promise of bearing a banana bunch. When a person is full of such competency then he is benefitted by the environment around him.This book is a glimpse of the author's journey for the past 40 years. साहित्यिक असतो, होत नाही. जितक्या स्वाभाविकपणे केळीला घड येतो. तितक्याच स्वाभाविकपणे त्याच्याकडून लेखन होतं.जमिनीचं कवच फोडून वर ऊसळून येणा-या केळीच्या रसरशीत कोंभातच घडाचं आश्वासन असतं. असा तो मुळातच असला, म्हणजे आजूबाजूच्या वातावरणाचा लाभ त्याला मिळतो. व्यंकटेश माडगूळकर यांच्या ४० वर्षांतील लेखन प्रवासाचं मनोज्ञ दर्शन.

All over there was an excitement in the atmosphere.... All around the progress work had caught momentum. One village built a school, the other constructed a road while yet another constructed a dam. This initiated Anna Vani with an exclusive idea. He persuaded all to construct a bridge on the river Belvan in their village Hiwra. The villagers could not digest the idea of the bridge over the river but they agreed upon tiling. Much consideration was given to the amount required and the contribution expected. All of a sudden, Bhima Vastad dropped a bomb. He said that whosoever constructs the bridge will suffer lots of adversities. Hearing this each and every member preferred to stay in the background. None came forward. Actually, this work would have benefitted each and everyone. Then why did not Bhima and his company did not approve of it? Why did they oppose so strongly? Did it benefit Bhima or did it prove to be detrimental? Belvan is the most perfect example of those selfish mentalities who often take pride in obstructing the progress works...

Tulajirao, the Subhedar fought with great valour during the war. His son enrolled himself in the army while continuing the tradition of bravery. During the IndiaPakistan war, he proved his caliber. Right there on the war field, he.... But this left the 'Mohite' in utter despair. Shivaji had learnt and heard a lot many stories about the valour and bravery of the earlier generations. So inspired was the young soldier that he set out on a journey in search of his father. A story of all those for whom their beloved country is the first and the foremost.

Since our childhood, we have heard a lot about rains. I have absolutely no idea if anyone else has understood its importance as we have. Our life depends exclusively on rains. We often try to bribe the rains so that they downpour on time. As a custom in the villages, the ladies sing songs while grinding on the hand stone grind. They weave in the rains beautifully while singing those songs. Why do we have such devotion towards rain? The answer is simple. We need the rains so that our mother earth could give us excellent yields in return.

AT TIMES, I FIND MYSELF TO BE TOO GLOOMY. ALL THE IDEAS ABOUT NEW STORIES REMAIN IDLE IN MY MIND, RESEMBLING AN INACTIVE TOAD SITTING ON A STONE, DOING NOTHING. SOMEWHERE, I DO GET THE FEELING THAT I AM CARRYING MANY SINGLE BURDENS OVER MY HEAD, AND NOW THESE ALL HAVE TURNED INTO A HUGE, HEAVY LOAD. WRITING IS THE FIRST AND FOREMOST THING, OTHER THINGS ARE SECONDARY. HENCE, WHATEVER TRIES TO BLOCK THE PATH OF WRITING SHOULD BE DISCARDED FIRMLY. YET, AT TIMES, IT BECOMES IMPOSSIBLE. THE REASONS ARE VARIED. SOMETIMES, IT IS LACK OF COMPETENCY AND AT OTHER IT IS THE THOUGHT THAT PREVAILS IN MIND, SUGGESTING THAT I MYSELF AM SPOILING MY STRENGTHS, FOR REASONS UNKNOWN. DEEP IN MY MIND, I HAVE NEVER ONCE FELT THAT I HAVE ACHIEVED GREAT MANY THINGS IN THE CAPACITY OF AN AUTHOR. WOULD IT NOT HAVE BETTER TO BELIEVE IT THOUGH? AT LEAST, MY MIND WOULD HAVE BEEN ENTITLED TO THE SOLACE THAT AN INNOCENT EXPERIENCES BUT THEN, THIS IS AGAIN YET ANOTHER THOUGHT. ALL OF A SUDDEN, MY MIND BOUNCES OFF, WANTS TO THROW AWAY EVERYTHING AND GUSH OUT. GOD KNOWS, WHAT IS GOING TO TAKE PLACE NOW

जीवनात बरेच जण मळलेल्या वाटांनीच वाटचाल करतात. स्वत च्याच पावलांनी नव्या वाटा पाडणारे, हव्या त्या ठिकाणी जाऊन पोहोचणारे अगदी थोडे या थोड्यांमधलेच काही.... सिंदबादप्रमाणे समुद्र ओलांडून सात सफरी करणारा 'टिम सेव्हरिन.' आफ्रिकेतल्या गोम्बे नॅशनल पार्कमध्ये राहून चिंपांझी वानरांवर संशोधन करणारी 'जेन गुडाल.' उत्तर ध्रुवाकडील आर्क्टिकच्या ओसाड प्रदेशात प्रवास करणारा 'फर्ले मोवॅट.' आफ्रिकेतील टांझानियाच्या लेक मन्यारा नॅशनल पार्कमध्ये जंगली हत्तींच्या कळपात चक्क चार-पाच वर्षे राहणारी 'ओरिया.' नाईल नदी तरून जाण्याच्या जिद्दीनं एकाकी प्रवास करणारा 'कूनो स्टुबेन.' पक्षिजीवनाचा पन्नास वर्षे अभ्यास करणारे पक्षिनिरीक्षक 'सलीम अली.' फॉरेस्ट खात्यात अधिकारी असूनही झाडांच्या सावलीत वाढलेले आणि उघड्या रानात जन्मलेले निसर्गनादी 'मारुतराव चितमपल्ली.'