Choose Your Experience

Kafan (By Munshi Premchand)

At the door of the hut, the father and son sat silently before a dying fire. Inside, the son’s young wife, Budhiya, was writhing in the pains of childbirth, and from time to time such heart-rending cries escaped her lips that both of them clutched their chests.

It was a winter night. The air was filled with silence, and the entire village was drowned in darkness.

Ghisu said, “It seems she will not survive. She has been suffering all day. Go and see how she is.”

Madhav replied in a painful tone, “If she has to die, why doesn’t she die quickly? What is the use of going to see?”

At the door of the hut, the father and son sat silently before a dying fire. Inside, the son’s young wife, Budhiya, was writhing in the pains of childbirth, and from time to time such heart-rending cries escaped her lips that both of them clutched their chests.

It was a winter night. The air was filled with silence, and the entire village was drowned in darkness.

Ghisu said, “It seems she will not survive. She has been suffering all day. Go and see how she is.”

Madhav replied in a painful tone, “If she has to die, why doesn’t she die quickly? What is the use of going to see?”