Shivpujan Sahay was born in 1893 in the village of Unwaas, district Bhojpur (Bihar). His childhood name was Bholanath. After passing the tenth grade, he worked as a copyist in the court of Banaras. Later, he became a Hindi teacher. Influenced by the Non-Cooperation Movement, he resigned from his government job. Shivpujan Sahay was a very popular and respected figure among the writers of his time. He edited several prestigious magazines like Jagran, Himalaya, Madhuri, Balak, etc. Along with this, he was also on the editorial board of the prestigious Hindi magazine Matwala. He passed away in 1963.

He was primarily a prose writer. Dehati Duniya, Gram Sudhar, Ve Din Ve Log, Smritishesh, etc., are about a dozen of his published prose works. His complete works are published in four volumes of Shivpujan Rachnavali. Scenes of folk life and folk culture are easily found in his works.

Mata Ka Anchal

Jahan ladkon ka sang, tahan baje mridgang Jahan budon ka sang, tahan kharcha ka tang

Our father used to get up early in the morning, and after finishing his bath, he would sit down to worship. We had been attached to him since childhood. Our connection with our mother was only until we drank milk. Therefore, we also used to sleep in the outer sitting room with our father. He would wake us up along with himself, bathe us, and make us sit for worship. We used to start bothering him to put a tilak of sacred ash. Laughing a little, getting a little annoyed, and scolding a little, he would make a tripund (three lines) on our broad foreheads. The sacred ash spread well on our foreheads. We had long, long matted locks. By applying the ash, we became quite ‘Bam-Bhola’ (like Lord Shiva).

Father used to call us ‘Bholanath’ with great affection. But actually, our name was ‘Tarkeshwarnath’. We also used to call him ‘Babu Ji’ and mother as ‘Maiyya’.

When Babu Ji used to recite the Ramayana, we would sit beside him and gaze at our face in the mirror. When he looked at us, we would put the mirror down, feeling a little shy and smiling. He would also smile.

After finishing the worship and recitation, he would start writing Ram-Ram. After writing a thousand Ram-names in one ‘Ramnama Bahi’ (register), he would tie it up with the scripture for recitation. Then

he would write Ram-names on five hundred small pieces of paper, wrap them in dough balls, and taking those balls, would set off towards the Ganges.

At that time too, we used to be seated on his shoulder. When he would start throwing one by one dough balls into the Ganges to feed the fish, we would still be sitting on his shoulder and laughing. When he would finish feeding the fish and start returning home, he would make us sit on the branches of bent trees on the way and swing us.

Sometimes Babu Ji would even wrestle with us. He would relax to encourage our strength, and we would throw him down. He would lie on his back, and we would climb onto his chest. When we started pulling his long, long mustache, he would laughingly free our hands from his mustache and kiss them. Then when he would ask for a sour and a sweet kiss, we would take turns turning our left and right cheeks towards his mouth. After taking the sour kiss from the left, when he would go to take the sweet kiss from the right, he would press his beard or mustache into our soft cheeks. We would get annoyed and start pulling his mustache again. At this, he would start fake crying, and we would stand aside and start laughing heartily.

Laughing with him, when we came home, we would also sit to eat with him at the dining area. He would feed us with his own hands, mixing milk and rice in a flower-patterned bowl. When we would feel full after eating, Maiyya would insist on feeding us a little more. She would start saying to Babu Ji - You keep putting mouthfuls of four-four grains into the child’s mouth; because of this, even after eating a little, he thinks he has eaten a lot; you don’t know how to feed - a child should be fed big mouthfuls.

When he eats big mouthfuls, then he will find a place in the world.

• Look, I’ll feed him. What do men know about how to feed children, and children’s stomachs also get full when they eat from their mother’s hands.

Saying this, she would mix curd and rice in a plate and, making mouthfuls with different artificial names like parrot, myna, pigeon, swan, peacock, etc., would feed us while saying, eat quickly, otherwise they will fly away; but we would make them ‘fly away’ so quickly that they didn’t even get a chance to fly.

When we would gobble up all the artificial birds, then Babu Ji would say - Okay, now you are the ‘king’, go and play.

That’s it, we would get up and start jumping around. Then, taking the wooden horse tied with a rope, we would go out naked into the street.

Whenever Maiyya could suddenly catch us, despite our struggling a lot, she would pour a handful of bitter oil on our head. We would start crying, and Babu Ji would get angry at that; but she would massage oil into our head and scrub us before letting go. Then she would put a dot of kajal on our navel and forehead, braid our hair, tie a flowery tassel in it, and dress us in a colorful kurta and cap. We would become quite a ‘Kanhaiya’ (like Lord Krishna) and come out sobbing into Babu Ji’s lap.

As soon as we came out, a group of children waiting for us would be there. Seeing those playmates, we would forget our sobs, get down from Babu Ji’s lap, and joining our companions, start making a spectacle.

And not just any spectacle, but all kinds of plays! One corner of the platform would become the theater. The small stool on which Babu Ji used to sit to bathe would become the stage. On it, a canopy of paper would be stretched on reed pillars, and a sweet shop would be set up. In it, on a shelf made from a hookah’s base, there would be sweets arranged on cloth plates: laddu made of clay lumps, poori-kachori made of leaves, jalebi made of wet clay, batasha made of broken pot pieces, etc. Coins were made from broken pottery pieces and small pieces of zinc. We ourselves were the customers and we ourselves were the shopkeepers. Babu Ji would also buy two-four Gorakhpuri (old) coins.

After a while, expanding the sweet shop, we would make a house. A ridge of dust would become the wall and straws the roof. Toothstick pillars, matchbox doors, a stove and grinding stone made from a pot’s mouth, a frying pan made from a lamp’s bowl, and Babu Ji’s worship spoon would become a ladle. With water as ghee, dust as flour, and sand as sugar, we would prepare a feast. We ourselves would prepare the feast and we ourselves would sit down to eat it. When the row would sit down, Babu Ji would also come quietly and sit at the end of the row to eat. Seeing him sit, we would laugh, destroy the house, and run away. He would also laugh heartily and say - When will the feast be again, Bholanath?

Sometimes we would also take out a wedding procession. A can would be played as a tanpura, a shahnai would be played by rubbing amla, a broken mousetrap would become a palanquin, we would become the bride’s father and ride on a goat, and the procession would start from one corner of the platform and reach the door in the other corner. There, in a small courtyard enclosed by wooden planks, plastered with cow dung, decorated with mango and banana branches, a pot made from a ladle would be placed. Reaching there, the procession would return. While returning, a red cloth would be spread on a cot, and the bride would be seated on it. Upon returning, as soon as Babu Ji would lift the cloth to see the bride’s face, we would laugh and run away.

A little while later, the group of boys would gather again. As soon as we gathered, the decision would be made to do farming. That’s it, a pulley would be fixed at the edge of the platform, and the lane below it would become a well. A thin rope made of munja grass would be tied with a small pot, hung on the pulley, and two boys would become oxen and start pulling the ‘mot’ (water-lifting device). The platform would become a field, pebbles would become seeds, and a stick would become a plow and yoke. The field would be plowed, sown, and leveled with great effort. It wouldn’t take long for the crop to be ready, and we would harvest it immediately. While harvesting, we would sing:

Oonch neech mein bai kiari, jo upji so bhai hamari. (In high and low lands, wherever it grew, it became ours.)

After placing the crop in one place, we would trample it with our feet. Making a winnowing fan from a bowl, we would winnow it, weigh it on a scale made from an earthen lamp, and prepare the heap. Meanwhile, Babu Ji would come and ask - How was this year’s harvest, Bholanath?

That’s it, then what? We would leave the field and threshing floor as they were and run away laughing. What a fun farming it was.

We used to keep playing such plays. Even passersby would stop for a while to watch our spectacle.

Whenever we saw a group of people going to the Dadri fair, we would jump and shout:

Chalo bhaiyo Dadri, satu pisan ki motri. (Come on brothers to Dadri, for gram flour laddus.)

If we saw a palanquin with a red cloth going ahead of a groom, we would shout very loudly:

Rahri mein rahri puran rahri, dola ke kaniya hamar mehari. (In the procession, an old procession, the bride in the palanquin is our beloved.)

Once, because of this, an old groom chased us a long way and hit us with clods. We still remember the face of that ugly, wicked man. Who knows which father-in-law found such a son-in-law. We had never seen such a horse-faced man.

During the mango season, sometimes there are strong storms. After the storm had moved a little away, we would run towards the orchard. There, we would pick and eat the fallen, bruised ‘Gopi’ mangoes.

One day, a storm came and settled. The sky was covered with black clouds. The clouds started thundering. Lightning started flashing, and cold wind started whistling. Trees started swaying and the ground started being kissed (by the wind). We shouted:

Ek paisa ki lai, bazar mein chhitrai, barkha udhre bilai. (For one paisa worth of lai, scattered in the market, the rain scared away the cat.)

But the rain didn’t stop; it started raining even more heavily. We pressed ourselves against the trunks and roots of the trees, like a tick sticks to a dog’s ear. But the rain didn’t stop, it subsided.

As soon as the rain stopped, many scorpions were seen in the orchard. We got scared and ran away. Among us, Baiju was very mischievous. Coincidentally, we met Moosan Tiwari in the middle. The poor old man was not very wise. Baiju teased him and said:

Budhva beiman mange karela ka chokha. (The dishonest old man asks for bitter gourd curry.)

We also, joining Baiju’s tune, started shouting the same. Moosan Tiwari chased us wildly. We just ran like a storm towards our respective homes.

When he couldn’t catch us, Tiwari Ji went straight to the school. From there, four boys were sent with an ‘arrest warrant’ to catch us and Baiju. Meanwhile, as soon as we reached home, the teacher’s soldiers pounced on us. Baiju made himself scarce; we were caught. Then the teacher gave us a good thrashing.

Babu Ji heard this news. He came running to the school. Lifting us in his lap, he started consoling and coaxing us. But we were not the kind of boys who would quiet down with pampering. Crying, we drenched his shoulder with tears. He pleaded with the teacher and took us home. On the way, we met the group of our companion boys again. They were dancing and singing loudly:

Mai pakayi garr-garr pooa, ham khaib pooa, na khelab jua. (Mother fried sizzling pooa, we will eat pooa, will not gamble.)

Then what? We forgot our crying. We insisted on getting down from Babu Ji’s lap and, joining the group of boys, started singing the same tune. By then, all the boys had run into the cornfield in front. A flock of birds was grazing in it. They started running to catch them, but not a single one came to hand. We were standing away from the field and singing:

Ram ji ki chirai, Ram ji ka khet, kha lo chirai, bhar-bhar pet. (Lord Ram’s birds, Lord Ram’s field, eat birds, fill your stomachs.)

Some distance away from us, Babu Ji and several men from our village were standing and watching the spectacle, laughing and saying that ’the bird’s life may go, but it’s the children’s toy’. Truly, ‘children and monkeys don’t understand others’ pain’.

Going to a mound, we started drawing water from a rat’s hole.

We had to throw water from below to above. We all got tired. By then, Shiva’s snake came out to protect Ganesh’s rat. Crying and shouting, we ran wildly! Someone fell face down, someone tumbled. Someone’s head was injured, someone’s teeth were broken. Everyone ran, falling and stumbling. Our whole body was bruised and bleeding. The soles of our feet were pierced by thorns.

We came running in unison and entered the house. At that time, Babu Ji was sitting in the verandah of the sitting room, smoking a hookah. He called us a lot, but ignoring him, we ran and went to Maiyya. We went and took refuge in her lap.

‘Maiyya’ was winnowing rice. We hid in her lap. Seeing us trembling with fear, she started crying loudly and left all work. Impatiently, she started asking the reason for our fear. Sometimes she would hug us tightly, and sometimes she would wipe our limbs with her lap and kiss us. She was in great distress.

Quickly, turmeric was ground and applied to our wounds. There was an uproar in the house. We kept hiding in Maiyya’s lap, saying in a low voice “Saa…s…saa” (snake). Our whole body was trembling. Our hair stood on end. We wanted to open our eyes; but they wouldn’t open. Maiyya would look at our trembling lips again and again, cry, and hug us with great affection.

At this very moment, Babu Ji came running. Coming, he immediately tried to take us from Maiyya’s lap into his own lap. But we did not leave the shelter of Maiyya’s lap - the canopy of love and peace….

प्रश्न-अभ्यास

1. Based on the present lesson, it can be said that the child was more attached to his father, yet in times of trouble, he seeks refuge with his mother instead of going to his father. In your understanding, what could be the reason for this?

2. In your opinion, why does Bholanath forget his sobs upon seeing his companions?

3. You must have noticed that Bholanath and his companions often make some kind of rhyming verses while playing and eating. If you remember any rhyming verses related to your games etc., write them down.

4. How are the games and play materials of Bholanath and his companions different from your games and play materials?

5. Describe the incidents from the lesson that touched your heart.

6. This novel excerpt depicts the rural culture of the thirties. What kind of changes do you see in today’s rural culture?

7. While reading the lesson, you must also be remembering the affection of your parents. Record these feelings in your diary.

8. Write in your own words the parental affection expressed here towards the child.

9. Explain the appropriateness of the title ‘Mata Ka Anchal’ and suggest another title.

10. How do children express their love towards their parents?

11. How is the world of children created in this lesson different from the world of your childhood?

12. Read the regional works of Phanishwarnath Renu and Nagarjun.