The Cabuliwallah is a story about a traveling salesman from Afghanistan who visits Calcutta every year to sell his wares. The story follows the relationship between the Cabuliwallah and a young girl named Mini who he has been visiting for the past five years.
The Cabuliwallah is a kind and gentle man who is always welcomed warmly by Mini and her family. He brings gifts for Mini and tells her stories about his homeland and his travels. Despite the fact that he is a stranger, the Cabuliwallah has a special place in Mini's heart and she looks forward to his visits every year.
One year, however, the Cabuliwallah does not visit Mini and she is devastated. Her father, who is a businessman, tries to explain to Mini that the Cabuliwallah is just a simple salesman and that his absence is not a big deal. But Mini cannot understand why the Cabuliwallah would break his promise and not visit her.
As the days pass, Mini becomes more and more upset and starts to question the value of relationships. She begins to wonder if the Cabuliwallah truly cared about her or if he was just using her for his own benefit.
But just when Mini has given up hope, the Cabuliwallah reappears and explains that he was unable to visit because he was in prison for a crime he did not commit. His absence was not a choice, but rather a result of circumstances beyond his control.
Hearing this, Mini is filled with joy and relief. She realizes that the Cabuliwallah's absence was not a reflection of his feelings towards her, but rather a result of external factors. She also learns that relationships are not always easy, but they are worth fighting for and maintaining.
In the end, the Cabuliwallah's return reaffirms Mini's faith in the value of relationships and teaches her the importance of forgiveness and understanding. The Cabuliwallah's love and kindness towards Mini, despite the challenges he faced, serve as a reminder of the power of human connection and the enduring nature of true friendship.
The Cabuliwallah Four Levels
And already the corner of her little sari was stuffed with almonds and raisins, the gift of her visitor. I love anything that tells a story of a father and daughter. I forgot that he was a poor Cabuli fruit-seller, while I was—. Through the window the rays of the sun touched my feet, and the slight warmth was very welcome. I was hard at work on my seventeenth chapter, where Pratap Singh, the hero, had just caught Kanchanlata, the heroine, in his arms, and was about to escape with her by the third-story window of the castle, when all of a sudden Mini left her play, and ran to the window, crying: "A Cabuliwallah! I made some small purchases, and a conversation began about Abdurrahman, the Russians, she English, and the Frontier Policy. This is the story of a beautiful friendship between a young girl called Mini from a wealthy family and a traveling dried fruit seller. I tried to laugh her fear gently away, but then she would turn round on me seriously, and ask me solemn questions:— Were children never kidnapped? After that Cabuliwallah started visiting her more often and offered her something to eat.
He looked wistfully at me for a moment, then said "Good morning," and went out. In fact, in memory of former days he had brought, carefully wrapped up in paper, a few almonds and raisins and grapes, obtained somehow from a countryman; for his own little fund was dispersed. With Durga returning to Kailas, the light of our home also was to depart to her husband's house, and leave her father's in the shadow. In the presence of this Cabuliwallah, I was immediately transported to the foot of arid mountain peaks, with narrow little defiles twisting in and out amongst their towering heights. Alas, on my return an hour later, I found the unfortunate coin had made twice its own worth of trouble! It was almost eight o'clock, and the early pedestrians were returning home, with their heads covered. This touch of his own little daughter had been always on his heart, as he had come year after year to Calcutta to sell his wares in the streets.
Rabindranath Tagore’s The Cabuliwallah: Summary & Analysis
And when the customer refused to pay the due, Cabuliwallah in anger stabbed him. Even after all these years of experience, she is not able to overcome her terror. The Cabuliwallah sells seasonal goods. But this was not enough, and her dread persisted. The Cabuliwallah revolves around the stories of two friends a peddler and a small stunning girl Mini. I could not have the electric lights I had intended, nor the military band, and the ladies of the house were despondent at it. He wore the loose, soiled clothing of his people, with a tall turban; there was a bag on his back, and he carried boxes of grapes in his hand.
After the rains, there was a sense of ablution in the air, and the sun-rays looked like pure gold. He had no bag under his arm to-day, so she could not discuss the elephant with him. Was it, then, not true that there was slavery in Cabul? This book is a collection of short stories by Tagore, who is one of the best authors of human emotion you can ever come across. She had a blind belief that inside the bag, which the big man carried, there were perhaps two or three other children like herself. He then took out a handprint of his daughter from his pocket and explains that he also has a daughter like Mini; whom he misses very much. He had pictured her running to him as she used, calling "O Cabuliwallah! My Mini was to be married that night. New companions filled her life.
Overall an excellent read. Even if he has done something wrong, I think he is one great father to his child. I love how he and Mini has become friends which I think solely reminds him of his own daughter. Compare judge, judicial, judgment, just, prejudge, adjustment, adjudicate. When she had gone, Rahmun heaved a deep sigh, and sat down on the floor. It was almost eight o'clock, and the early pedestrians were returning home with their heads covered. When she had gone, Rahmun heaved a deep sigh, and sat down on the floor.
The Hungry Stones and Other Stories/The Cabuliwallah
I cannot tell what were my daughter's feelings at the sight of this man, but she began to call him loudly. In fact, in memory of former days he had brought, carefully wrapped up in paper, a few almonds and raisins and grapes, obtained somehow from a countryman; for his own little fund was dispersed. The idea had suddenly come to him that his daughter too must have grown in this long time, and that he would have to make friends with her anew. One morning, for instance, when I was in the midst of the seventeenth Chapter of my new novel, my little Mini stole into the room, and putting her hand into mine, said: "Father! It was Rahmun the Cabuliwallah. I could see--but at some such point Mini's mother would intervene, imploring me to "beware of that man. I think of her, and bring fruits to your child—not to make a profit for myself.
When Cabuliwallah goes to visit Mini she is afraid because he is wearing loose solid clothes and a tall turban. The Cabuliwallah looked a little staggered at the apparition. This year, however, he could always find time to come and see Mini. Mini's mother believes that the Cabuliwallah is a kidnapper and doesn't want Mini around him. Now Mini knew that statement and bowed her head. The narrator bought some things. As I really enjoyed the variety of the stories, as well as a very new perspective on '' India'' meaning reading about it from an Indian author , I found it redundant to encounter the same dead-end in most of them.
He doesn't know anything, does he? I urged that, though not impossible, it was highly improbable. She used to get afraid of the giant look of that peddler Cabuliwallah. Now in the heat of his excitement, the prisoner began calling his enemy all sorts of names, when suddenly in a verandah of my house appeared my little Mini, with her usual exclamation: "O Cabuliwallah! The man accepted the money without demur, and slipped it into his pocket. From early morning noise and bustle had pervaded the house. Ramdayal the door-keeper calls a crow a krow! New companions filled her life.
My five years' old daughter Mini cannot live without chattering. I cannot tell what were my daughter's feelings at the sight of this man, but she began to call him loudly. Simple and powerful with its emotion and story telling prowess. I read it two weeks ago and I almost forgot its plot. It would have seemed to an outsider that there was some conspiracy between the two, for when he could not come in the morning, he would appear in the evening. After reading I can say that every person is like Kabuliwala finding a part of himself dream,love etc in others. I could see—but at some such point Mini's mother would intervene, imploring me to "beware of that man.
At last he smiled and said: "Little one, are you going to your father-in-law's house? Could you perhaps come another day? So many attitudes towards them have completely changed after reading this story. To see Mini quiet is unnatural, and I cannot bear it long. I took out a bank-note, and gave it to him, saying: "Go back to your own daughter, Rahmun, in your own country, and may the happiness of your meeting bring good fortune to my child! The morning was bright. It is a euphemism for jail, the place where we are well cared for, at no expense to ourselves. But to me the wedding feast was all the brighter for the thought that in a distant land a long-lost father met again with his only child. I remembered the day when the Cabuliwallah and my Mini had first met, and I felt sad. Seated in front of him, looking down on his gigantic frame in all her tiny dignity, Mini would ripple her face with laughter, and begin: "O Cabuliwallah, Cabuliwallah, what have you got in your bag? Through the window the rays of the sun touched my feet, and the slight warmth was very welcome.
