Story World: The splendor of the story of the world's best creators ...

- The Devil

- Original Creator - d. Mopasa Introduction-Paresh Vyas

- 'Fever or tuberculosis harms the human body more than any one restless, anxious or weak thought can overwhelm the human body.'

- The. Mopasa

- Doshi made a superhuman attempt to get up and escape from there, even though it was high above his shoulders and chest, but then he fell on the bed with a deep sigh.

'Varta' was created for the first time in Gujarati language. It was 100 years old last year. On this occasion, a unique celebration was held by publishing classic stories of famous creators of Gujarat in 'Gujarat Samachar'. A treasure trove of Gujarati stories received a warm response from readers. After that, it is now presented to the readers of 'Gujarat Samachar' - the splendor of the works of the world's foremost storytellers ...

(Flowing story: Today is the perspective of rural France about two hundred years ago today. There is a farmer, he is poor, it is time to harvest wheat in the field and his mother has to die. The doctor who visited the house says, says no but orders that Now when Annie's mother is only a temporary guest, the farmer should be present with Annie's mother. But then what about the wheat? My mother is 3 years old. There is no desire left. According to the doctor's instructions, Annie's mother with an elderly nanny named La Rapet. He knows that Annie's mother will have to spend many days in this situation, so he deals with the package till he dies instead of the daily price. The farmer goes to the farm. The nanny stays with Annie's mother. He also calls the pastor of the church to perform the atonement for sins.

The day was now fading, the heat was receding, and the gusts of cold air were blowing in the form of short sighs. The clear curtains of the window, which had once been white, had now turned yellow, over which were streaks of insect droppings. It seemed that these curtains were eager to fly away but to get rid of it he had to hit the side, just like the soul of this old woman ... now forward)

Without leaving recently, the old mother was waiting for death with her eyes open, a death which, even if it was a handful, was delaying the arrival of Oru with some intact indifference. His short breaths were whistling from his throat. It will all come to an end now, soon and there will be less than one woman in this world who will not be regretted.

When night fell, Onove returned and went to Mani's bed and saw that Annie's mother was still alive: "Why Anne?" He asked, the same way he had been asking, whenever Annie's mother was sick. He then dispatched La Rapette, saying: "Tomorrow morning at five o'clock, without forgetting." And he replied: "Tomorrow at five o'clock."

The next morning, when he returned, he found Onow drinking soup, which he had made himself before going to work.

"Well, is your mother dead?" Asked La Rapette, a nanny working to treat the sick.

"It's better on the contrary," he replied with a mesh of hatred in the corner of his eye.

Anxiety engulfed La Rapette. She approached the dying woman, who was in the same position as before. In a dull, dull, depressed state, his eyes were open and his hands were lying on the quilt tightly. La Rapet, who worked as a nanny to care for the sick till death, was given the mental knowledge that if this or that happens then two days, four days, eight days, maybe ... and his greedy mind trembled with fear. She went mad with rage, at the sly man who made her a thriving owl, and at the old woman who now lives on the brink of death, but does not seem to die so easily.

Although she sat close to him and began to embroider herself, her eyes were fixed on the wrinkles on Mother Bontemps' face. When Onove returned to the room after breakfast, he had a look of satisfaction on his face, and his attitude was funny because he was glad that his farm wheat was growing on time and that his deal with La Rapette was cheap. Was appearing. He went from home to the farm.

And here in the house, with every passing moment, La Rapet became more and more agitated, as if someone had stolen his time and money. In that madness it happens that he himself suppresses the throat of this doshi donkey, this stubborn stupid doshi, this stubborn evil doshi- a doshi who is just taking his short quick breath by hand, shortening his throat, giving it a gentle sigh. Because every breath of that doshi was robbing him of his time and his money. But then she realized that there was a danger in doing so, and then another thought came to her mind. She went to the dying Doshi and asked him: "Have you ever seen the devil?"

"No," said Mother Bontemps in a low voice.

Then the nanny who was treating the sick began to talk to herself. Things that scare, frighten, manipulate Doshi's weak and dying brain. '... the devil appears a few minutes before he dies,' he says, 'he appears to all who die. He has a broom in his hand, a tent over his head, and he laughs ha ha ha. When anyone sees that the game is over ... and the man has only a few moments left in his life "and then he names the people he has seen this year as the devil: Josephine Loisel, Yuliyli Retier, Safi Padagnau, Serifin Grosspide.

Mother Bontemps's mind finally went crazy. The thought of Satan appearing began to haunt him. Slightly shaken, he pressed his hand to the quilt and tried to turn his neck in the other direction of the room. Suddenly La Rapette leaned down on the bed and disappeared. Then she slowly went to the closet, pulled out a sheet and wrapped it. Then she placed an iron base on top of the pot so that its three small bases looked like horns growing on her head. She took a long broom in her right hand and a bucket of leaves in her left hand. A sudden loud bang on the ground, in such a way that it makes a loud noise when it falls. And it certainly happened. There was a terrible noise when the bucket fell down. After La Rapet, she climbed onto a chair and began to make scary gestures, her mouth covered in a pot, screaming loudly, and lying on a rotating deathbed, swinging a broom in her hand, frightening the farmer.

Doshi was terribly frightened. The fear was clearly visible on his face. Doshi made a superhuman attempt to get up and escape from there, even though it was high above his shoulders and chest, but then he fell on the bed with a deep sigh. At that moment, the game is over. Anne's life had now collapsed. La Rapette very calmly arranged everything as it was. In the corner near the broom closet, inside the sheet closet, on the stove, the bucket on the ground and the chair next to the wall. And then with professional skill he closed the widened eyes of the dead woman, placed a plate on the bed, poured a little holy water into it, dipped a small branch of a perennial boxwood tree into it, and then bowed down and began to pray in a passionate voice for the dead. It was part of his business.

When Onova returned in the evening, he saw La Rapette praying. He immediately calculated and realized that he had lost twenty hundred, or one franc. La Rapette lasted three days and one night, and if the price per day had been set, the total would have been five francs, while in the package deal he had to pay six francs.

(Finished)

(Note: Who is the Devil aka Satan here? Did it come to haunt Doshi in the name of a fictional devil and lead him to an early death? Or his son who was more worried about the wheat in the field than Martima? Or did he want to die? Jati a doshi? Or none of these three characters? If readers think that there is no real devil like poverty or the compulsion of poverty, then it is true, maybe ..)

Introduction to the Creator

The. Mopasa

Born: 7 August 190

Died: July 8, 19

One of the most popular writers and one of the world's greatest short story writers, d. Mopasa's full name was Henry-Renee-Albert-Guy-de-Mopasa. Original French pronunciation 'gi de moppaso'.

The. Mopasa's stories are known for their word limits, competent narration and instinctive conclusions. He authored three hundred short stories, six novels, three travelogues, and one poem. The famous author Leo Tolstoy 'The Works of the. Mopasa honored Mopasa's literary talent by writing an essay. The German philosopher Nietzsche called him the most delicate and inquisitive psychologist of this century. Mopasa's personal life was colorful. Due to his sexual relations with many women in his youth, he became a victim of the secret disease syphilis and his creativity was affected by the disease. He died at the age of forty-three. He had already written the inscription on his grave: 'I love everything. I haven't gotten wrong from any of them. '