Unit-1: Short-story

(‘Next Sunday’ is an extract from Next Sunday Sketches And Essays (1960) by R K Narayan)

R. K. Narayan, an internationally recognized novelist and the grand patriarch of Indo-Anglian

writers (writers of India writing in English), received a number of awards and distinctions. In
1961, he received the National Prize of the Indian Literary Academy (Sahitya Akademi), India’s
highest literary honor, for his very popular novel The Guide. His other honors include India’s
Padma Bhushan Award for distinguished service of a high order, 1964; the United States’
National Association of Independent Schools Award, 1965; the English-speaking Union Award,
1975; the Royal Society of Literature Benson Medal, 1980; and several honorary degrees. In
1982, Narayan was made an honorary member of the American Academy and Institute of Arts
and Letters. He was named a member of India’s non-elective House of Parliament, the Rajya
Sabha, in 1989.

In addition to his novels, R. K. Narayan (nuh-RI-yuhn) published a number of volumes of short

stories. The title of his first collection of short stories, Malgudi Days (1941), is also the title of a
later, expanded collection published by Viking in 1982. Other collections include Dodu, and
Other Stories (1943), Cyclone, and Other Stories (1944), Lawley Road: Thirty-two Short Stories
(1956), A Horse and Two Goats, and Other Stories (1970), Old and New (1981), Under the
Banyan Tree, and Other Stories (1985), and The Grandmother’s Tale, and Selected Stories
(1994). Two autobiographical works are My Days (1974), which covers four decades of
Narayan’s career as a writer, and My Dateless Diary (1960), a journal of his travels through the
United States. “Gods, Demons, and Modern Times,” a talk given at Columbia University in
1972, is collected together with tales from Indian mythology in Gods, Demons, and Others
(1964). Narayan also published translations of two Indian epics: The Ramayana (1972) and The
Mahabharata (1978). During the war years, he edited Indian Thought, and his weekly newspaper

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“middles” were collected in Next Sunday: Sketches and Essays (1960). A film adaptation of
Narayan’s novel The Guide was released in 1965, but Harvey Breit and Patricia Rinehart’s stage
adaptation of the novel only incurred Narayan’s displeasure. Despite his attempt to withhold
permission for the production, The Guide opened on Broadway in March, 1968.

Text:

NEXT SUNDAY

Sunday is the day most looked forward to by everyone. It is the one day which suddenly
evaporates before you know where you are. Everyone knows the Saturday evening feeling, with
all the pleasures of expectancy and the Sunday evening feeling already tainted by thoughts of
Monday. What happens to the day? It is the day on which so many items are thrust promises
made to children for an outing, promise of a little shopping, calling on someone, and so on and
so forth, all promises, promises. There is no way out except by stretching out the twenty-four
hours to do the work of forty-eight. Before one notices it the forenoon is gone.

In the morning one decides to stay a little longer in bed and one does it till one is worried out of
bed by the noises which start earlier than usual, because it is a Sunday. A radio enthusiast in the
next house who has been waiting for this day to tune in an hour earlier, a motor car with its
engine going to pieces, children’s shouts of joy because they have no school today; all this goes
on while the Sunday devotee is planning to spend an hour longer in bed. The man gets up in a
slightly frustrated mood and that is not a very good way to start the day. It knocks all charm out
of existence at the very start itself. When one has got up in this mood it is no use hoping for a
good life again. It is better to accept it for what it is; that the Sunday is nearly gone. Next, one
begins to notice things. On other days one has no time for all those scrutinies and examinations.

I know a person who is a very gentile being on all working days but completely turns a
somersault on a Sunday. He becomes ferocious and difficult to deal with. He sees that everything
at home is going wrong. He is a hobyist, one who likes to repair things with his own hands. This
man draws a heavy schedule of work for Sundays. Hanging a picture, fixing a leaky tap,
chocking off the squeak in the radio, or oiling the watch of bicycle, are all jobs for a Sunday. All
through the week he keeps making a mental note of what he proposes to do on the Sunday.

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If he could have his way he would have to work far into midnight and a part of Monday morning
also. But he never gets through this arduous programme. No doubt he opens up a radio or a
watch the first thing in the day, and squats down like a great god in his workshop. Francis
Thompson said of Shelly, ‘The Universe was his box of joys’. We are reminded of this picture
when we see this man sitting amidst his toys; but with this difference: Shelley was pictured as
being lost in the delight of creation, while this man is unable to do anything because he finds so
many articles missing. A nail which he cherished, a piece of string or wire which he reserved for
future use, a precious nut or bolt, and something or the other is always missing, and it enrages
him. He has a number of children and his losses are in direct ratio to their numbers. This is not a
thing that this irate man can take casually. The children have been helping themselves to various
articles all through the week. A blade for pencil mending, a wire for tying up something,
something else for something else, and a nut and bolt because they look nice. This man’s anger
knows no bounds. He calls them, lines them up and starts an investigation. The investigation may
lead to useful results or it may not. It is in the laps of the gods. One child, impressed by his
father’s manner, may give up his loot and another may, out of a desire to earn a certificate or
they may do nothing of the kind but remain unyielding of their treasure.

The man sitting with his box of toys is clearly frustrated. His suspicion is roused and he now
proceeds to takes stock of all his losses. He hurriedly gets up and opens his cupboard, and
presently the household keeps ringing with, ‘Where is this’? or ‘ What has happened to that’? in
varying degrees of petulance. Others know no more where that hammer is gone, which no one
has ever seen, than he does. He realizes that he lives in a most unhelpful world. He shoots his
question apparently in the general air, but actually aims it at his wife who is busy in an inner part
of the house, and at the children who are gleefully watching their father’s tantrums and are only
waiting for a chance to run away. One of seven years, an intuitive escapist, with apparent
innocence suggests that probably such and such a thing is in such and such a place and should he
go and look for it? The irate man falls a prey to this guile. Before the man knows what has
happened the young fellows is gone, and once the line-up is broken, it is broken forever. The
man gets absorbed in something else, probably a book or a magazine on his table, and forgets all
about it for a while, till he sees the same children unconcernedly playing in the next house. He
calls them back by a lusty shout through the window. They all troop back , and the man opens
the offensive by asking about their books and school-work , clearly a sadistic design. This leads

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to an examination of their educational progress and propensities. He discovers that his children
have not been developing on the right lines at all; he had not noticed till now how badly they are
growing up-an oblique reference which at once brings down a hot denial from an inner part of
the house. He bullies the children for a while and grows tried of it very soon.

Now he discovers that half the Sunday is irrevocably lost . There are only a few more hours of
sunshine left. He is now reminded of all his promises for this day after he has had a midday meal
and has acquired a pleasant mood. He promises to fulfil his obligations after a short nap. When
he gets up after his rest he realizes that he simply cannot take his family out today. He simply
will not spend the balance of this much battered Sunday at bus stops. He recollects how some
time ago he had to spend two hours at a bus stand with all his children howling with hunger , and
all of them had to trek back home late at night. He shudders at the memory and suddenly cries,
‘Please, let us stay at home. I will take you all out next Sunday.’

Questions (Model):

Why does everyone look forward to a Sunday?

How is Saturday evening feeling different from the Sunday evening feeling?

List all the jobs that are on heavy schedule of work for Sundays for the man.

What keeps the father back from taking the children out on a particular Sunday?

How does the man realize that he lives in a most unhelpful world?

What is the humourous part of the story?

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Unit-2: Poem

Once Upon a Time

This is a poem by the Nigerian poet Gabriel Okara, in which he laments the lost innocence of
youth. In it he condemns the hypocrisy of adults – hemmed in and constrained by rules and
conventions – adopting masks for different occasions: for lying, cheating and betraying –
whereas childhood is portrayed as a time of honest laughter, and spontaneity.

Once Upon a Time (Poem-TEXT)

Once upon a time, son,
they used to laugh with their hearts
and laugh with their eyes:
but now they only laugh with their teeth,
while their ice-block-cold eyes
search behind my shadow.

There was a time indeed

they used to shake hands with their hearts:
but that’s gone, son.
Now they shake hands without hearts
while their left hands search
my empty pockets.

‘Feel at home!’ ‘Come again’:

they say, and when I come
again and feel
at home, once, twice,
there will be no thrice-
for then I find doors shut on me.

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So I have learned many things, son.
I have learned to wear many faces
like dresses – homeface,
officeface, streetface, hostface,
cocktailface, with all their conforming smiles
like a fixed portrait smile.

And I have learned too

to laugh with only my teeth
and shake hands without my heart.
I have also learned to say,’Goodbye’,
when I mean ‘Good-riddance’:
to say ‘Glad to meet you’,
without being glad; and to say ‘It’s been
nice talking to you’, after being bored.

But believe me, son.

I want to be what I used to be
when I was like you. I want
to unlearn all these muting things.
Most of all, I want to relearn
how to laugh, for my laugh in the mirror
shows only my teeth like a snake’s bare fangs!

So show me, son,

how to laugh; show me how
I used to laugh and smile
once upon a time when I was like you.

Questions (Model):

Who is talking in the poem?

What assumptions can you make about the kind of life he has lived and his present
circumstances?
What kind of person do you imagine him to be?
What has he learnt to do with his own feelings?
Who is the person addressing?
What does he hope to learn from him?
What does he mean by wanting ‘to unlearn all these muting things’?
Why do you think the poet has given it the title, ‘Once Upon a Time’?

Analysis of Symbolism in Gabriel Okara's "Once Upon a Time"

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The heart is a symbol of genuine emotions, and the eyes the conveyor of the same (as sincere
feelings are communicated through the eyes). Once upon a time people used to smile and shake
hands with their hearts. Though they were rooted in primitivism, the emotions they embodied
were genuine. Now, in the contemporary post-colonial context, the smile is purely plastic as it
reveals only the teeth. The eyes are devoid of emotion and phrased as 'ice-block.' They appear
without the slightest trace of warmth and humanity. They search behind the speakers shadows, as
their intentions and motives are not explicit. They are now characterized by ulterior motives.
There was a time when their very greeting (shaking of hands) was heart-felt. The ‘right hand’
here is the metaphor for the projected intention. The left hand for the ‘intended intention.’ The
left hand gropes in the empty pockets of the speaker.

Niceties like “Feel at home!' and 'Come again' are reiterated just for the sake of formalities.
However, when the speaker makes an appearance for the third time, there is certainly a marked
change in their behavior. Leave alone the thought of a warm reception, the doors are closed on
him. The speaker has now learned to conform to this sophisticated world driven by calculation
and manipulation. He talks of many faces that are nothing but metaphors of masks and disguises
designed to suit specific needs and situations:

I have learned to wear many faces

like dresses - homeface,
officeface, streetface, hostface,
cocktailface, with all their conforming smiles
like a fixed portrait smile.

The portrait smile is a symbolic act of something that is not felt, but done purely for the sake of
it. Conforming to the so-called refined culture the poet has attuned himself with the rest and
learnt to smile only with his teeth and greet (shake hands) without any trace of sincerity (heart):

I have also learned to say, 'Goodbye',

when I mean 'Good-riddance';
to say 'Glad to meet you',
without being glad; and to say 'It's been
nice talking to you', after being bored.

'Goodbye' is an expression that originated from the blessing 'God be with ye.' It’s meaning has
deteriorated to 'Good-riddance'. In the pseudo-modern fast-forward life people have lost the
power to connect as human beings and communicate in naturalness. The poet tells his son that he
wishes to transcend into the innocence of childhood characterized by purity where the soul is
closer to God, as Wordsworth claimed in his Intimations Ode. He wants to unlearn all the muting
things of sophistication. Particularly, he wants relearn to smile as now the poison is becoming
more obvious with the fangs showing. The showing of the fangs emblematizes how the people

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were transforming from their seeming disguise to shameless display of iniquity. The symbol of
the snake also points to the first sin of Man.

So show me, son,

how to laugh; show me how
I used to laugh and smile
once upon a time when I was like you.

Towards the end of the poem, the speaker entreats with the son to teach him to emote. The poem,
therefore exemplifies that 'Child is the Father of Man.'

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