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The Editor

The Indian Express

Kochi

10 June 2016

Sir,

This is to bring to your notice the sad plight of some children in my locality. Most of these children are from other States like Bihar, Orissa and West Bengal. Some of them are employed in the local hotels and some shops in the market. They are made to work from early morning to late into the night. They are given very small wages and their living conditions are very poor. Even with the little money they get, they drink alcoholic beverages and smoke ganja.

We all know about the Right to Education and Laws against child labour. But these children who are less than 14 are not going to any school and are badly mistreated by their employers. If people don’t open their eyes, the Law should come and make these cruel employers open their eyes. We speak of Metros, Airports, 6-line super highways and Info parks. How can we ignore the plight of these victims of Fate and speak of development?

Children are the wealth of the society. They are to be tomorrow’s leaders. We ought to do them justice, not on paper and pulpits, not by mere words but by deeds.

Yours truly 

Sd /-

Kareena

1. Vanka Zhukov is 9 years old. He is apprenticed to Alyakhin, a shoemaker. Vanka did not go to bed on Christmas Eve. When his master, master’s wife, and the other senior apprentices went to Church, Vanka took a pen and a crumpled sheet of paper. Before starting to write he looked around the room, the door and window as if he was afraid. He looked at the lasts on the shelves and gave a sigh. Then he knelt on the floor and started writing.

2. “Dear Grandad Konstantin Makarich, I am writing a letter to you. I send you Christmas greetings and I hope God will send you his blessings. I have no father and Mummie and you are all I have left.”

3. Vanka saw his grandfather in his mind. His grandfather was a night watchman on the estate of a rich family. He was a small, lean old man about 65. But he was lively and agile. He had a smiling face but his eyes were bleary with drink. During daytime he slept in the dark kitchen or spent time joking with the cook and the kitchen maids. In the night he wore a sheepskin coat and walked around the estate making sounds with his rattle. With him there used to be two dogs. One was old Kashtanka. The other was Eel. Eel had black coat and a long weasel-like body. Eel was respectful and always tried to get people’s affection. He looked at friends and strangers in the same manner. He did not give confidence to anyone. His respectful and obedient nature hid his hatred and vengeance. He could go quietly and bite somebody’s foot, creep into the icehouse and steal a peasant’s chicken. His back legs had been cut many times, twice he had been hung up, and every week he was beaten up very badly. But he survived all.

4. Grandad was perhaps standing at the gate looking at the bright red light coming from the church windows, or chatting with the servants. His rattle would be tied to his belt. He would be laughing and pinching a maid or one of the cooks. He would show his snuff box and ask the women to take a nip. The women would take some snuff and put into their nostrils. They would sneeze. Grandad would be shouting and laughing with joy, saying, “Good for frozen noses.”

5. Even the dogs were given snuff. Kashtanka would sneeze, shake her head and walk away, feeling angry. But Eel very politely would wag his tail. The weather was good. The air was still and fresh. It was a dark night. But the whole village could be seen’ clearly because the houses had white roofs. Smoke rose from the chimneys. Trees were covered with frost. Snow was falling. The sky was filled with twinkling stars. The Milky Way was shining as if polished with snow.

6. Vanka continued with his letter: “Yesterday I got a lot of beating. The master took me by the hair and dragged me into the yard. He beat me badly with the stirrupstrap (the belt used to connect the foot rest of the rider to the saddle). I had gone to sleep while rocking his baby. One day last week, the mistress told me to clean a herring. I began from the tail. She took it and rubbed its head on my face. Other apprentices make fun of me. They send me to buy vodka and make me steal the master’s cucumbers.

I don’t get enough to eat. They give me bread in the morning, gruel for dinner and again bread for supper. I never get tea or cabbage soup. They take it all themselves. They make me sleep in the passage. When their baby cries, I don’t get any sleep at all. I have to rock it. Dear Grandad, for the Lord’s sake, take me away from this place. Take me home to the village. I can’t suffer it any longer. I beg you. I always pray for you. Do take me away or I will die….’’

7. Vanka’s lips trembled. He rubbed his eyes. He sobbed.

Vanka continued: “I will grind your snuff for you. I will pray for you. You can beat me as hard as you like if I do mischief. If you think I have nothing to do, I will clean the boots or go as a shepherd instead of Fedya. I wanted to run away to the village but I have no boots and I was afraid of the frost. When I grow up to be a man I will look after you and I will not let anyone hurt you. When you die, I will pray for your soul like I do for my Mummie.”

8. “Moscow is such a big town. There are many gentlemen’s houses and many horses there. There are no sheep. The dogs there are not at all fierce. The boys go about with a sta,r at Christmas. They don’t let you sing in church. Once I saw them selling fishing hooks of different sizes. I saw one hook that could hold a catfish weighing 30 pounds. I have seen shops selling guns like the one my master has. The guns might cost 100 roubles each. In the butcher’s shop we can buy grouse, woodcock (both mean different kinds of ‘kattukozhi’) and hares. The shopkeepers don’t say how they got them.”

9. “Dear Grandad, when they have a Christmas tree at the big house, take a fine nut for me and put it away in the green chest. Ask Miss Olga Ignatyevna and tell her it is for Vanka.”

10. Vanka sighed. He looked at the window glass. He remembered his grandfather going to get a Christmas tree for his employers. He had taken Vanka with him.

How happy Vanka was then! Grandfather would laugh. The frost covered trees would laugh and Vanka also laughed. Before cutting the tree, grandfather would smoke his pipe, take a long pinch of snuff. He would laugh at the shivering Vanka. The young firtrees, covered with frost, stood without moving. They were waiting to see which one would be cut. Suddenly a hare would appear. Grandfather would shout: ‘Stop it, stop it.’

11. Grandfatherwould drag the tree to the big house. They all would decorate it. Miss Olga Ignatyevna, Vanka’s favourite, was the busiest of all. Pelageya was Ninka’s mother. She is dead. When she was working in the big house, Olga Ignatyevna used to give Vanka sweets. As her pastime, she also taught Vanka to read, write and count to a hundred. She even tried to teach him to dance. When his mother died, Vanka was sent to the back kitchen to his grandmother. From there he was sent to Moscow, to Alyakhin.

12. Vanka continued writing. “Come to me dear grandad. Take me from here. Feel pity for me. They always beat me and I am always hungry and miserable. I send my love to Alyona, one eyed-Yegor and the coachman. Don’t give my concertina to anyone. I remain your grandson Ivan Zhukov. Dear Grandad do come.”

13. He folded the sheet and put into an envelope. He wrote the address: To Grandfather in the village. After some thought he added: To Konstantin Makarich’.

14. He was happy that nobody saw him writing. He put his cap and ran out into the street. He did not wear his coat. The men at the butcher’s had told him that letters are put into letter-boxes. Then they are sent all over the world in mail coaches with 3 horses and drunken drivers and jingling bells. Vanka dropped his letter in the letter box.

15. An hour later he fell asleep. He dreamed of a stove. His grandfather was sitting on the stove-ledge, with his bare feet dangling. He was reading the letter to the cooks. Eel was walking backwards and forwards, wagging his tail.

14. He was happy that nobody saw him writing. He put his cap and ran out into the street. He did not wear his coat. The men at the butcher’s had told him that letters are

Anton Chekhov’s ‘Vanka’ is a story that haunts the reader for long. Vanka is an orphan. He is apprenticed to a cruel shoemaker in Moscow. In the house of the shoemaker, Vanka is seriously mistreated. He is not given sufficient food, he is made to rock the baby of Alyakhin in the night and so he cant sleep properly, the senior apprentices send him to buy vodka and to steal cucumbers from the master. They also make fun of him. Vanka wants to run away to his grandfather in the village, but he has no shoes and he is afraid of the frost. Tired of the life at the shoemaker’s house, Vanka decides to write a letter to his grandfather to come and take him back to the village.

He promises to help his grandfather in different ways if he is taken. But the innocent Vanka does not even know that a letter can be sent only if it has a correct postal address, and the cover is stamped. After writing about his sufferings on a crumpled sheet of paper, he puts it in an envelope. On the envelope he simply writes “To my grandfather Konstantin Makarich in the village”. He innocently thinks that this will reach his grandfather and he will be rescued. He goes to sleep dreaming of the joys he will have when he goes back to his village.

Anton Chekhov’s story touches our heart. His style is simple and straight forward with a message for the readers. He exposes a cruel society that ignores and even mistreats its children. After reading the story nobody would like to mistreat the orphaned children. The imagery is so beautiful that we can read the story as if we are watching an excellent film.

Vanka’s grandfather was a night watchman on the estate of a rich family. He was a small, lean old man about 65. But he was lively and agile. He had a smiling face but his eyes were bleary with drink. During daytime he slept in the dark kitchen or spent time joking with the cook and the kitchen maids. In the night he wore a sheepskin coat and walked around the estate making sounds with his rattle.

With him there used to be two dogs. One was old Kashtanka. The other was Eel. His rattle would be tied to his belt. He liked to laugh and playfully pinch maids and cooks. He would show his snuff box and ask the women to take a nip. The women would take some snuff and put into their nostrils. They would sneeze.

Grandad would be shouting and laughing with joy, saying, “Good for frozen noses.” He even gave snuff to the dogs. He was a fun loving old man. He sent Vanka to a shoemaker in Moscow as an apprentice.

this action can be interpreted in two ways. May be he wanted the orphaned boy to learn a trade to make a living for himself when he grew up. Bu some may think that he was running away from the responsibility of looking after his orphaned grandson. Whatever is the case, grandfather is a fun-loving fellow that makes us laugh with his antics.

Vanka said so for so many reasons. He did not get enough to eat. He could not sleep properly as he had to rock Alyakhin’s baby in the night. He was laughed at by the senior apprentices and above all he was often beaten by Alyakhin.

He dreamed of a stove. His grandfather was sitting on the stove-ledge, with his bare feet dangling. He was reading the letter to the cooks. Eel was walking backwards and forwards, wagging his tail.

When he became an orphan, after the death of his mother Pelageya, he was sent to his grandfather. His grandfather apprenticed him to the shoemaker Alyakhin in Moscow.

It won’t reach his grandfather. He just wrote the name of his grandfather and simply the village’. Which village? Where? Nobody would know.

Miss Olga Ignatyevna was Vanka’s favorite. She used to give Vanka sweets. She also taught him to read, write, count and also to dance.

Vanka remembers his grandfather going to get a Christmas tree for his employers. He had taken Vanka with him. How happy Vanka was then! Grandfather would laugh. The frost-covered trees would laugh and Vanka also laughed. Before cutting the tree, grandfather would smoke his pipe, take a long pinch of snuff. He would laugh at the shivering Vanka. The young firtrees, covered with frost, stood without moving. They were waiting to see which one would be cut. Suddenly a hare would appear. Grandfather would shout: ‘Stop it, stop it.’ Grandfather would drag the tree to the big house. They all would decorate it.