Episodes Of The Life - ("Kist-Kist Jeevan" by Smt. shefalika Varma translated into English by Smt. Jyoti Jha Chaudhary )

Shefalika Verma has written two outstanding books in Maithili; one a book of poems titled “BHAVANJALI”, and the other, a book of short stories titled “YAYAVARI”. Her Maithili Books have been translated into many languages including Hindi, English, Oriya, Gujarati, Dogri and others. She is frequently invited to the India Poetry Recital Festivals as her fans and friends are important people.

Translator:Jyoti Jha Chaudhary, Date of Birth: December 30 1978,Place of Birth- Belhvar (Madhubani District), Education: Swami Vivekananda Middle School, Tisco Sakchi Girls High School, Mrs KMPM Inter College, IGNOU, ICWAI (COST ACCOUNTANCY); Residence- LONDON, UK; Father- Sh. Shubhankar Jha, Jamshedpur; Mother- Smt. Sudha Jha- Shivipatti. Jyoti received editor's choice award from www.poetry.comand her poems were featured in front page of www.poetrysoup.com for some period.She learnt Mithila Painting under Ms. Shveta Jha, Basera Institute, Jamshedpur and Fine Arts from Toolika, Sakchi, Jamshedpur (India). Her Mithila Paintings have been displayed by Ealing Art Group at Ealing Broadway, London."ARCHIS"- COLLECTION OF MAITHILI HAIKUS AND POEMS.

          An autobiography is not merely a story of a life but this rotates around the chronology of philosophical thoughts, ideological revolutions and the ups and downs of the emotions. This is also an analysis of a situation. For writing a full autobiography, even if the entire land on the Earth becomes the paper and the oceans become the ink, the story would remain incomplete. In this way the ‘Episodes of the Life’ was written in six to seven hundreds of pages. I had never thought about its publishing. Suddenly, the five headed moon emerged in the treasure of the nature. Pressure for the publishing arose. I was requested to summarise the story. In this process, where someone left, where I missed some event, I left all these to be judged by the readers.
          I am not a role model whose autobiography would be desired by the readers, neither am I a litterateur to know whom, people would be enthusiastic. This is a story of a very emotional ordinary girl who, although, born and brought up in the facility and luxury of a city life, rendered her duty regarding family, social and traditional front in the orthodoxy of village-life with her utmost patience. How she could at least reach the doorway of the Maithili literature. How the earth is filled three fourth with water and one fourth with land,  likewise, my life is also filled three fourth with emotions and imaginations and one fourth with the reality -  but apart from all these, my whole life is made up of compromises and adjustments with situation, family and society.

The Time Was Cruel: 
“Everybody loves in his life
I will love you even after my death.”
     The melody of the song is spread and I am feeling his existence even in the darkness. I am seeking the singer with my wide open eyes- he must be somewhere nearby – I am lying shocked –I am listening to my own heartbeats – the fear of loneliness left me standing alone in the Sunami – one who passed away is gone and the left one is left like a log – the flood throws him like a thrash in the sand of the world. Get up Ranno! You are a courageous person. The whole world is in front of you, move ahead and face the world. Come into the reality- like he is holding me in his arms- enchanting me with his words – you will have to create a new world, will have to live by yourself. I am in each breath you inhale – I am not away from you- I will love you even after my death- after my death – this is thrilling- why had he sung this song to me-  why? Where he was singing this song by holding me whole night?
     Somebody takes you away from my arms my love is not so insecure, then my love is so insecure that the Goddess took him away from me.  I read in news papers that the seminars of the heart specialists are going on, that different equipments are being installed in the Indira Gandhi Institute of Heart Diseases.  Is the disease cured by seminars and equipments? As long as the doctors are not dedicated, they don’t have humanity and they lack the attitude of rendering duty- the equipments and machines cannot do anything.

My husband Lallan Kumar Verma, who was also a senior advocate in Patna High Court, he left this world, whatever is the spiritual reason, but the mismanagement of the Indira Gandhi Institute of Cardiology is responsible for that. Nobody can stop the death made by God but can the condition of the emergency department of a hospital be so bad? Is this system correct- rusted equipments, departments lacking life-saving medicines, empty cylinders of oxygen, broken electric shak, are doctors so heartless? To run their private nursing homes the institutes like Cardiology can be neglected so badly? There are only those machines left that turn the present into the past – and nothing else, nothing else, I hate doctors. If doctors start treatment immediately and patients don’t survive at last after their full efforts then we can console ourselves that the doctors tried their best but the God was not in favour. And the papers started turning in front of my eyes- his poems, the letters from Kedarji, Neeraja, Manoranjanji- everything was irritating my eyes like hot chilli, there was no tear in my eyes only the inflammation- inflammation of fire, inflamation of chilli.
Respected Didiji !
Saadar Naman,
We are very distressed to know the sudden death of respected Vermaji. We can only try to understand how deeply hurtful this situation is for you. Thinking about  the  anguish of the sudden end of the company of a talented and favouring life partner itself fills the heart with stress. This is the peculiarity of this world. This always moves, keeps changing, who was present now they are no more and who are present now will die in future. You know this reality more than I know. Please don’t lose your patience. Your sons, daughters and other kids need your blessings and company. Try to console your heart by seeing the image of Vermaji in the face of your sons. It seems that I can perceive the floating emptiness on your ever smling face from here. May God give you energy and patience to tolerate this agony.  With the wish that your surrounding and friends could help you in overcoming the grief of Vermaji’s demise I pray the almighty God to give divine peace to the great soul of Vermaji.
                                                                        Your Younger Brother(like)
                                                                                  Kedar Nath Sharma
                                                                            The Department of Sanskrit
Dear Shefalikaji,
I can’t get what to write.  I am deeply hurt. I had heard that sad news from some senior person that Lalanji is no more. I couldn’t believe but I understood that bad news were not false. I always think about you- how you are.
          My evening in Saharsa and Lalan bhaiya’s words –‘Some love is left yet’- Can this vanish? Again in Prayag, our meeting in the birth centenary of Amarnath Jha – how had he left the world so soon leaving these things away?
          According to him you are soft hearted as well as firm. May God strengthen your capability! Because, you have dual responsibility as your children would like to see their father in your eyes, so don’t keep them filled with tears. May the goddess Shree 108 Jagdamba give the entire house to bear this sorrow!
                                                                                (Neerja Renu)
Reverend Shefalikaji,
I always felt that I should be away from that family but I am the closest person to that intellectual (Saraswat) family. The first thing to be remembered in the morning and adorable brother‘s inspirational personality was our strength. The village of the bank of river can be destroyed but the fame of the people of that village is spread all over- I was spreading these words getting from him only. When I  suddenly came to know this I was shocked. I felt anger for myself because the struggle of University made me so detached from you I couldn’t realise.
          I had been to your place in Patna. You were visiting Delhi at that time. I know your sad heart that how an ever intellectual lady, absorbing meditation, a scholar like you, is left alive being inspirational for us, for your children,  for protecting society ,literature and culture.
          Satyaprakash’s mother is very worried about you. My family is always dedicated to follow your instructions. We will be obliged if you instruct us to do anything any time. Please bless us by informing about your well being.
          Asking for wellbeing of  you and your family to the Goddess Tara
Manoranjan Jha
PG Department (Maithili) Saharsa

How these forty years of togetherness have passed!
The goddess has blessed me with the enchanting wife.
I couldn’t even complete my conversation and such a long period has passed
Just look at the lilting flowers in the small garden of our dream.
Flowers have attracted more flowers, the couple flowers made buds
What to say, was that possible without your co-operation
Many difficulties have come in the life and you didn’t allow me to distracted
You always encouraged me with your inspiring words
There are many remembrances that make me unhappy
You are gifted to me as a boon to realise the happiness
You forgave me for all my  faults and rendered all your duties
The tiny flowers of emotions are dedicated to you today
I beheld you for life long
But my eyes are  not yet satisfied
I pray only
That you never get any sorrow in your life, I have trust on my Goddess
To my Ranno, Raniya, Chhammo, Raaj on her fortieth birth anniversary
-        Lalan
CTC Broadgreen Hospital, Liverpool, U.K.

He wrote this after only one month of my birthday
To my lovely, attractive, bright wife ‘Raj’ who adorned my life with her enchanting beauty- “Keep on showering affection to everybody like you have been doing yet. I only can feel that I cannot live without you for a single second.”
- Lalan
09-08-1999, Omskark, U.K.

       I was able to see with my eyes overflow with tears as clear as the rising sun, how happy Vermaji was on that day as his daughter Vandana (Pinki) was coming from England.  She was the one who with her husband had saved her dad’s life in England.


I was surprised when it was time to go to England in 1999. He became ready to go within one minute to respect the invitation by Vandana Pahun (Vandana’s husband).Well, this was a different story that Sanjeev had recently resigned his job and started practicing advocacy under his father because, he couldn’t neglect his clients and cases at any cost. He was writing book on human rights while travelling in England. He couldn’t survive without law. We had been there for only two months. It was exactly two months over when we were to return India when the calamity attacked us. Pinki was employed in Conventry during that time. K P was there in Omskark hospital. Pritu and Ani was studying there so we were in Omskark. Varmaji had prepared very good salad, ‘does only Pahun know the style of making salad? See, how I make the stylist salad. Pahun was laughing a lot. We three had meal together then we sent Pahun to Hospital. We both watched TV for some time and he asked to go to the bedroom to take rest. Both children were in the school. We both went upstairs to take rest. We were talking about general things and suddenly he started complaining chest pain. I asked him whether I should call the pahun but he stopped me by reminding ‘don’t you remember I had the similar pain in Saharsa station. I got relieved after eating valium. I will eat Valium again and the pain will vanish.’ But his pain increased. I phoned pahun(son in law).  He came in his dress of operation theatre.  After seeing him he took some medicine and called ambulance from different room.  ‘Mummy, we have to take papa to the hospital immediately’. He asked Vermaji whether he would be able to go downstairs himself. Vermaji had strong will power so he said yes why not. He went downstairs and I started changing dress. When I came downstairs I saw him lying on the sofa and struggling with pain on the sofa like a bird injured by arrow. Pahun stopped waiting for the ambulance and took him on his car. Quarter was in the hospital campus but before reaching there he fell on the car floor. I kept on shouting ‘Pahun, papa has fallen down’ but Pahut continued driving with speed and horn and reached the emergency finally. He was brought out of the car. He was numb and senseless. Pahun couldn’t lift him alone so four ward boys came in a second. I was crying. All sisters took me to the other room. I was repeating a couple of words like a tape recorder- save him- save him, and they all were consoling me.   

(to be continued..................)

1 comment:

  1. I would love to read your autograph irrespective of its length. How can I get it?

    -MK Jamshedpur