Thank Maam in Urdu/Hindi translation | Class 12 (WBCHSE)
About The Author
Jameo Mercer Langoton Hughes (1902-1967) was a famous writer and social activist from America. Hughes was interested in the revival of African folk culture. Some of his well known works are the weary Blues (1926), Not without Langhter (1930), The Way of White Folks (1934).
Jimo Mercer Langston Hughes (1902-1967) aik mashhoor Amreeki musannif aur samaji karkun the. Hughes African aawami saqafat ki bahali mein dilchaspi rakhte the. Unke mashhoor kaamon mein “The Weary Blues” (1926), “Not Without Laughter” (1930), aur “The Ways of White Folks” (1934) shamil hain.
About The Text
This story is about the sympathy shown by an older woman to a young urchin, who tried to steal her pocketbook. The young boy was eager to acknowledge the lenity shown to him by her, but he got no more chance to do that beyond a brief, “Thank You”.
Yeh kahani aik badi umr ki aurat ki hamdardi ke bare mein hai jo aik naujawan ladke ke sath dikhati hai, jisne uska purse churane ki koshish ki. Naujawan ladka aurat ki narmi ko tasleem karne ka khawaishmand tha, lekin usay “Thank you” ke mukhtasir alfaz ke ilawa iska koi moqa nahi mila.
The Text
The was a large woman with a large purse that had everything in it but hammer Sh and nails. It had a long strap, and she carried it slung across her shoulder. It was about eleven o’clock at night, and she was walking alone, when a boy ran up behind her and tried to snatch her purse. ‘The strap broke with the single tug the boy gave it from behind. But the boy’s weight and the weight of the purse combined caused him to lose his balance so, instead of taking off full blast as he had hoped, the boy fell on his back on the sidewalk, and his legs flew up. The large woman simply turned around and kicked him right square in his blue- jeaned sitter. Then she reached down, picked the boy up by his shirt front, and shook him until his teeth rattled.
Aik badi aurat thi jis ke paas aik bada purse tha jismein hathoda aur keel ke ilawa sab kuch tha. Uske purse ka aik lamba strap (patta, jis se purse ko latkaya jata hai) tha, aur wo isay apne kandhe par latkaye hue thi. Yeh raat ke gyarah baje ka waqt tha, aur wo akele chal rahi thi, jab aik ladka uske peeche se daurta hua aya aur uska purse chhinane ki koshish ki. Strap aik hi jhatke se toot gaya jab ladke ne peeche se taana. Lekin ladke ka wazan aur purse ka wazan mila kar uska tawazun bigar gaya aur, jaisa ke usne umeed ki thi ke poore zor se bhag jaye, ladka peeth ke bal footpath par gir gaya, aur uski taangen hawa mein ur gayi. Badi aurat ne bus mur kar uske neele jeans pehne hue pichle hisse par theek ek laat maar di. Phir usne jhuk kar ladke ko uske qameez ke samne se uthaya aur usay uske daant baja diye.
After that the woman said, “Pick up my pocketbook, boy, and give it here. “She still held him. But she bent down enough to permit him to stoop and pick up her purse. “Then she said, “Now ain’t you ashamed of yourself?”
Iske baad aurat ne kaha, “Mera purse uthao, ladke, aur mujhe do.” Usne abhi bhi usay pakra hua tha. Lekin usne itna jhuka ke woh larka jhuk kar uska purse uthaa sake. Phir usne kaha, “Ab kya tum apne kaam k liye sharminda nhi ho?”
Firmly gripped by his shirt front, the boy said, “Yes’m.”
Ladke ne kaha, “Ji haan.”
‘The woman said, “What did you want to do it for?”
Aurat ne kaha, “Tumne yeh kyun karna chaha?”
‘The boy said, “I didn’t aim to.”
Ladke ne kaha, “Mera irada nahi tha.”
She said, “You a lie!”
Usne kaha, “Tum jhoot bol rahe ho!”
By that time two or three people passed, stopped, turned to look, and some stood watching.
Tab tak do ya teen log guzray, rukay, mod kar dekha, aur kuch kharay ho kar dekhte rahe.
“If I turn you loose, will you run?” asked the woman.
“Agar main tumhe chhod doon, to kya tum bhagogay?” aurat ne poocha.
“Yes’m,” said the boy.
“Jee ma’am,” ladke ne kaha.
“Then I won’t turn you loose,” said the woman. She did not release him.
“Phir main tumhe chhodungi nahi,” aurat ne kaha. Usne usay nahi chhora.
“I’m very sorry, lady, I’m sorry,” whispered the boy.
“Main bohot sharminda hoon, madam, bohot sharminda hoon,” ladka dheemi awaz mein bola.
“Um-hum! And your face is dirty. I got a great mind to wash your face for you.
“Um-hum! Aur tumhara chehra ganda hai. Mera mann karta hai ke tumhara chehra dho doon.
Ain’t you got nobody home to tell you to wash your face?”
Kya tumhare ghar pe koi nahi jo tumhe kahe ke chehra dho lo?”
“No’m,” said the boy.
“Jee ma’am, nahi,” ladke ne kaha.
“Then it will get washed this evening,” said the large woman starting up the street, dragging the frightened boy behind her. He looked as if he were fourteen or fifteen, frail and willow-wild, in tennis shoes and blue jeans.
“Phir aaj shaam ko yeh chehra dhoya jayega,” badi aurat ne kaha aur sadak par aage barh gayi, dar se kaanpte ladke ko apne peeche ghasit-te hue. Woh lagbhag chaudah ya pandrah saal ka lag raha tha, kamzor aur patla, tennis jooton aur neele jeans mein.
The woman said, “You ought to be my son. I would teach you right from wrong. Least I can do right now is to wash your face. Are you hungry?”
Aurat ne kaha, “Tumhe mera beta hona chahiye. Main tumhe sahi aur galat ka farq sikhaati. Abhi ke liye to main tumhara chehra dhoongi. Kya tum bhookhe ho?”
“No’m,” said the being dragged boy. “I just want you to turn me loose.”
“Jee ma’am, nahi,” ladka jo ghasit-ta ja raha tha bola. “Mujhe bas aap mujhe chhod dijiye.”
“Was I bothering you when I turned that corner?” asked the woman.
“Jab main us mod par mudi thi to main tumhe tang kar rahi thi?” aurat ne poocha.
“Jee ma’am, nahi.”
“No’m.”
Nahi
“But you put yourself in contact with me,” said the woman. “If you think that that contact is not going to last awhile, you got another thought coming.
“Lekin tumne khud mujhse mulaqat ki,” aurat ne kaha. “Agar tum soch rahe ho ke yeh mulaqat zyada der nahi chalegi, to tumhe doosra sochna hoga.
When I get through with you, sir, you are going to remember Mrs. Luella Bates Washington Jones.”
Jab main tumse nipat loongi, to tum Mrs. Luella Bates Washington Jones ko yaad rakhoge.”
Sweat popped out on the boy’s face and he began to struggle. Mrs. Jones stopped, jerked him around in front of her, put a half-nelson about his neck, and continued to drag him up the street. When she got to her door, she dragged the boy inside, down a hall, and into a large kitchenette-furnished room at the rear of the house. She switched on the light and left the door open. The boy could hear other roomers laughing and talking in the large house. Some of their doors were open, too, so he knew he and the woman were not alone. The woman still had him by the neck in the middle of her room.
Ladke ke chehre par paseena aa gaya aur usne jhujhna shuru kar diya. Mrs. Jones ne ruk kar usay apne samne ghoomaya, uske gale par haath dala, aur usay sadak par aage le gayi. Jab woh apne darwaze par pohanchi, usne ladke ko andar ghasit-te hue hall ke raaste se ek bade kitchenette-furnished kamre mein le gayi. Usne light jala di aur darwaza khula chhod diya. Ladka doosre kamron se logon ke hasne aur baat karne ki awaz sun sakta tha. Kuch ke darwaze bhi khule the, isliye usay maloom tha ke woh aur aurat akelay nahi the. Aurat ne ab tak usay gale se pakra hua tha kamre ke beech mein.
She said, “What is your name?”
Usne kaha, “Tumhara naam kya hai?”
“Roger,” answered the boy.
“Roger,” ladke ne jawab diya.
“Then, Roger, you go to that sink and wash your face,” said the woman, whereupon she turned him loose-at last. Roger looked at the door-looked at the woman-looked at the door-and went to the sink.
“Toh Roger, tum us sink ke paas jao aur apna chehra dho lo,” aurat ne kaha, jisse kehte hi usne usay chhod diya-aakhirkar. Roger ne darwaza dekha-darwaza dekha-aur sink ki taraf chala gaya.
“Let the water run until it gets warm,” she said. “Here’s a clean towel.”
“Pani ko chalne do jab tak garam na ho jaye,” usne kaha. “Yeh lo ek saaf towel.”
“You gonna take me to jail?” asked the boy, bending over the sink.
“Kya aap mujhe jail le ja rahi hain?” ladke ne sink ke upar jhuk kar poocha.
“Not with that face, I would not take you nowhere,” said the woman. “Here I am trying to get home to cook me a bite to eat and you snatch my pocketbook! May be, you ain’t been to your supper either, late as it be. Have you?”
“Is chehre ke saath, main tumhe kahin nahi le jaungi,” aurat ne kaha. “Main bas ghar aane ki koshish kar rahi thi taake kuch khana bana saku aur tumne mera purse chheen liya! Shayad, tumne bhi apna dinner nahi kiya hoga, itni der ho gayi hai. Kya tumne?”
“There’s nobody home at my house,” said the boy.
“Mere ghar pe koi nahi hai,” ladke ne kaha.
“Then we’ll eat,” said the woman, “I believe you’re hungry-or been hungry-to try to snatch my pocketbook.”
“Phir hum khayenge,” aurat ne kaha, “Mujhe yakeen hai ke tum bhookhe ho-ya bhookhe rahe ho-isliye tumne mera purse chheen-ne ki koshish ki.”
“I wanted a pair of blue suede shoes,” said the boy.
“Mujhe ek jodi neele suede jooton ki zaroorat thi,” ladke ne kaha.
“Well, you didn’t have to snatch my pocketbook to get some suede shoes,” said Mrs. Luella Bates Washington jones. “You could of asked me.”
“M’am?”
“Toh tumne suede jooton ke liye mera purse chheen-na zaroori nahi tha,” Mrs. Luella Bates Washington Jones ne kaha. “Tum mujhse mang sakte the.”
“Madam?”
The water dripping from his face, the boy looked at her. There was a long pause. A very long pause. After he had dried his face and not knowing what else to do dried it again, the boy turned around, wondering what next. The door was open. He could make a dash for it down the hall. He could run, run, run, run, run!
Ladke ne apne chehre se paani tapakate hue us taraf dekha. Ek lambi khamoshi thi. Bohot lambi khamoshi. Jab usne apna chehra sukha liya aur aur kuch na karne ke liye usay dobara sukha liya, ladka mud gaya, samajh nahi paaya ke ab kya kare. Darwaza khula tha. Woh bhaag sakta tha hallway ke raste se neeche. Woh daur, daur, daur sakta tha!
The woman was sitting on the day-bed. After a while she said, “I were young once and I wanted things I could not get.”
Aurat day-bed par baithi thi. Thodi der baad usne kaha, “Main bhi kabhi jawan thi aur mujhe bhi chizein chahiye thi jo main nahi le sakti thi.”
There was another long pause. The boy’s mouth opened. Then he frowned, but not knowing he frowned.
Ek aur lambi khamoshi thi. Ladke ka munh khula. Phir usne bhawen chadha li, lekin bina jane usne bhawen chadha li.
The woman said, “Um-hum! You thought I was going to say but, didn’t you?
Aurat ne kaha, “Um-hum! Tumne socha tha ke main ‘lekin’ kahungi, hai na?
You thought I was going to say, but I didn’t snatch people’s pocketbooks. Well, I wasn’t going to say that.” Pause. Silence. “I have done things, too, which I would not tell you, son-neither tell God, if he didn’t already know. So you set down while I fix us something to eat. You might run that comb through your hair so you will look presentable.”
Tumne socha tha ke main kahungi, lekin maine logon ke purses nahi chhin-ne. Toh main yeh kehne nahi ja rahi thi.” Khamoshi. Sannata. “Maine bhi aise kaam kiye hain jo main tumhe nahi bataungi, beta-na hi khuda ko bataungi, agar use pehle se maloom na hota. Toh tum baitho jab tak main humare liye kuch banati hoon. Tum apne baalon mein kangha chala lo taake tum ache lago.”
In another corner of the room behind a screen was a gas plate and an icebox.
Kamre ke dusre kone mein ek screen ke peeche ek gas plate aur ek icebox tha.
Mrs. Jones got up and went behind the screen. The woman did not watch the boy to see if he was going to run now, nor did she watch her purse which she left behind her on the day-bed. But the boy took care to sit on the far side of the room where he thought she could easily see him out of the corner of the other eye, if she wanted to. He did not trust the woman not to trust him. And he did not want to be mistrusted now.
Mrs. Jones uth kar screen ke peeche chali gayi. Aurat ne nahi dekha ladka ab bhaagta hai ya nahi, na hi usne apne purse ko dekha jo usne day-bed par chhod diya tha. Lekin ladke ne dhyan diya ke woh kamre ke doosri taraf baitha jaha se woh sochta tha ke agar aurat chahe toh apni aankh ke kone se usay aasani se dekh sakti thi. Usne aurat par bharosa nahi kiya ke woh usay bharosa karegi. Aur ab woh nahi chahta tha ke use ab bharosa na ho.
“Do you need somebody to go to the store,” asked the boy, “maybe to get some milk or something?”
“Kya aapko kisi cheez ke liye store jaana hai,” ladke ne poocha, “shayad kuch doodh ya kuch aur ke liye?”
“Don’t believe I do,” said the woman, “unless you just want-sweet milk yourself I was going to make cocoa out of this canned milk I got here.”
“Mujhe nahi lagta ke zaroorat hai,” aurat ne kaha, “jab tak ke tumhe meetha doodh nahi chahiye. Main yeh canned doodh se cocoa banane wali thi.”
“That will be fine,” said the boy.
“Yeh theek hoga,” ladka bola.
She heated some lima beans and ham she had in the icebox, made the cocoa, and set the table. The woman did not ask the boy anything about where he lived, or his folks, or anything else that would embarrass him. Instead, as they ate, she told him about her job in a hotel beauty-shop that stayed open late, what the work was like, and how all kinds of women came in and out, blondes, red-heads, and Spanish. Then she cut him a half of her ten-cent cake.
Usne kuch lima beans aur ham jo uske icebox mein thi garam kiya, cocoa banayi, aur table laga di. Aurat ne ladke se kuch bhi nahi poocha ke woh kahan rehta hai, uske ghar wale kaun hain, ya kuch aur jo use sharminda kare. Balki, jab wo khana khate rahe, usne use apne hotel beauty-shop ke kaam ke baare mein bataya jo late tak khula rehta hai, kaam kaisa hota hai, aur kaise har tarah ki auratein aati jaati hain, blondes, red-heads, aur Spanish. Phir usne use apni das cent ki cake ka aadha tukda diya.
“Eat some more, son,” she said.
“Aur khao, beta,” usne kaha.
When they were finished eating she got up and said, “Now, here, take this ten dollars and buy yourself some blue suede shoes. And next time, do not make the mistake of latching onto my pocketbook nor nobody else’s-because shoes come by devilish like that will burn your feet. I got to get my rest now. But I wish you would behave yourself, son, from here on in.”
Jab unhone khana khatam kar liya, usne uth kar kaha, “Ab yeh lo, dus dollars aur apne liye neele suede jootey le lo. Aur agli baar, galti se bhi mera purse chhin-ne ya kisi aur ka purse chhin-ne ki koshish mat karna-kyunki aise chori se miley jootey tumhare pair jala denge. Mujhe ab aram karna hai. Lekin main chahti hoon ke tum aage se apne aap ko theek rakhna, beta.”
She led him down the hall to the front door and opened it. “Goodnight! Behave yourself, boy!” she said, looking out into the street.
Usne use hallway ke raste se saamne ke darwaze tak le jaakar khola. “Shubh raatri! Apne aap ko sambhalo, beta!” usne kaha, sadak ki taraf dekhte hue.
The boy wanted to say something else other than “Thank you, ma’ am” to Mrs. Luella Bates Washington Jones, but he couldn’t do so as he turned at the barren stoop and looked back at the large woman in the door. He barely managed to say “Thank you” before she shut the door. And he never saw her again.
Ladke ne Mrs. Luella Bates Washington Jones se kuch aur kehna chaaha, lekin woh nahi keh paaya jab usne barren stoop par mur kar badi aurat ko darwaze mein dekha. Usne mushkil se “Thank you” kaha pehle ke usne darwaza band kar diya. Aur usne phir kabhi usay nahi dekha.