Prof-Mr.Lokhande H.R.
S.M.E.S.& Jr.College Navedar Adiware
Tal-Rajapur Dist-Ratnagiri.
The New Dress
(From page no.44) Mabel had her first serious suspicion शंका/संशय that something was wrong as she took her cloak मोठा झगा off and Mrs. Barnet, while handing हाताळणे her the mirror and touching the brushes and thus drawing ओढणे her attention, perhaps rather जरासा markedly, ठळकपणे to all the appliances साधने for tidying सुव्यवस्थित करत and improving hair, complexion, मूर्खवर्ण clothes, which existed अस्तित्वात होते on the dressing table, मेकअप किंवा ड्रेस परिधान करताना वापरायचा ड्रॉवर व आरसा असणारा टेबल confirmed the suspicion - संशय/शंका that it was not right, not quite मोठ्या प्रमाणात right, which growing stronger as she went upstairs वरच्या मजल्यावर and springing तात्काळ पुढे जाणे at her, with conviction विश्वास/श्रद्धा as she greeted स्वागत केले Clarissa Dalloway, she went straight to the far end of the room, to a shaded सावलीचा corner where a looking-glass hung स्तब्द and looked. No! It was not RIGHT. समाधानकारक And at once the misery संकटे/हाल which she always tried to hide, the profound खोल/सखोल dissatisfaction असंतोष/असमाधान the sense she had had, ever since she was a child, of being inferior कनिष्ठ to other people - set upon her, relentlessly, अथकपणे remorselessly, निर्घुणपणे with an intensity तीव्रता which she could not beat पराभव off, as she would when she woke at night at home, by reading Borrow or Scott; for oh दुःख/आनंद व्यक्त करणारा शब्द these men, oh दुःख व्यक्त करणारे शब्द women, all were thinking" What's Mabel wearing? परिधान करणे What a fright भितीदायक she looks! What a hideous किळसवाणा/भयानक new dress!"- their eyelids flickering पापण्या उघडझाप करणे as they came up and then their lids पापण्या shutting बंद होत rather काहीशा tight. It was her own appalling धक्कादायक inadequacy; अपुरेपणा her cowardice; भ्याडपणा/भेकडपणा her mean, water-sprinkled शिडकाव केलेले blood that depressed खिन्न her. (From page no.45) And at once the whole of the room where, for ever so many hours, she had planned with the little dressmaker शिंपी how it was to go, seemed sordid, स्वार्थी/नीच repulsive, तिरस्करणीय and her own drawing-room स्वागत कक्ष so shabby, फार जुनाट झालेली and herself, going out, puffed फुगणे up with vanity निरर्थकता/व्यर्थता as she touched the letters on the ball wable and said: "How dull!" to show off इतरांवर प्रभाव टाकण्यासाठी बोलणे - all this now seemed unutterably अखंडपणे silly, मूर्ख paltry, तुच्छ/क्षूल्लक and provincial. खेडवळ/अडाणी All this had been absolutely पूर्णपणे destroyed, shown up, exploded, स्फोट झाला the moment she came into Mrs. Dalloway's drawing room. स्वागत कक्ष
What she had thought that evening when, sitting over the teacups, चहा पिण्यासाठी बसणे Mrs. Dalloway's invitation come, was that of course, she could not be fashionable. अद्ययावत पद्धतीचा It was absurd हास्यास्पद to pretend ढोंग करणे it even - fashion meant cut, meant style, meant thirty guineas गिनिया/पैसे at least - कमीत कमी but why not be original? Why not be herself, anyhow? कशाही प्रकारे And, getting up, तयारी करत she had taken that old fashion book of her mother's, a París fashion book of the time of the Empire, सम्राज्य had thought how much prettier, सुंदर more dignified, प्रतिष्ठित/थोर and more womanly they were then, and so set herself - oh, it was foolish - trying to be like them, pluming गढून जाणे herself in fact, खरंच/स्थितीत upon being modest विनम्र/साधा and old-fashioned, and very charming, मोहक giving सोडणे herself up, no doubt about it, to an orgy आनंददायक गोष्टीची मेजवानी/ पार्टी of self-love, which deserved पात्र/लायक होते to be chastised, दंड करण्यास and so rigged धाडस/कपडे पुरवणे herself out like this.
But she dared धाडस केले not look in the gloss. She could not face the whole horror भीती the pale फिकट yellow, idiotically मूर्खपणाच्या old fashioned silk dress with its long skin and its high sleeves बाह्या and its waist कंबर and all the things that looked so charming in the fashion book, but not on her, not among all these ordinary सामान्य people. She felt like a dressmaker's dummy हुबेहूब प्रतिकृती standing there, for young people to stick घुसवणे pins into.
"But, my dear, it's perfectly charming!" मोहक Rose Show said, looking her up and down with that little satirical उपहासात्मक/कर्कश pucker अठ्या पाडणे of the lips which she expected अपेक्षित - Rose herself being dressed in the height of the fashion, precisely तंतोतंत/अगदी बरोबर like everybody else, दुसरे always.
We are all like flies माशा trying to crawl रंगणे/सावकाश जाणे over the edge कडा of the saucer, बशी/जमिनीतील उथळ खड्डा Mabel thought, and repeated the phrase as if she were crossing herself, as if she were trying to find some spell मंत्र/जादू/शब्दलेखन to annul रद्द करणे this pain, to make this agony वेदना/दुःख endurable. सुसह्य/सहन करण्याजोगा Tags of Shakespeare, lines from books she had read ages ago, suddenly came to her when she was in agony, वेदना/दुःख and she repeated them over and over again. "Flies माशा trying to crawl,"रांगणे/सावकाश जाणे she repeated.(From page no.46) If she could say that over often enough and make herself see the flies, माशा she would become numb, बधिर chill, गारठा/थंडी frozen, dumb. मुका/बधिर Now she could see flies माशा crawling रांगणे/सावकाश जाणे slowly out of a saucer बशी of milk with their wings stuck अडकले together; and she strained ओढूनताणून आणलेला and strained (standing in front of the looking glass, listening to Rose Shaw) to make herself see Rose Shaw and all the other people there as flies, माशा trying to hoist उंच उचलणे/आधार themselves out of something, or into something, meagre, अल्प/हडकुळा insignificant, क्षुल्लक toiling कष्टकारक flies. But she could not see them like that, not other people. She saw herself like that- she was a fly, but the others were dragonflies, पारदर्शक पंख असलेला मोठा किटक butterflies, फुलपाखरू beautiful insects, dancing, fluttering, फडफडणे skimming, साई काढणे while she alone dragged ओढणे herself up out of the saucer. बशी/खड्डा (Envy मत्सर and spite. द्वेष the most detestable तिरस्करणीय of the vices, were her chief faults. दोष )
"I feel like some dowdy, नाराज decrepit, जबरदस्त horribly भयानक dingy घाणेरडी दिसणारी old fly," she said, making Robert Haydon stop just to hear her say that, just to reassure धीर देणे herself by furbishing उजाळा देत up a poor weak-kneed गुडघे phrase and so showing how detached अलिप्त house she was, how witty, विनोदी/थट्ठेखोर that she did not feel in the least कमी out of of anything. And, of course, Robert Haydon answered something, quite मोठ्या प्रमाणात polite, quite मोठ्या प्रमाणात insincere, अप्रामाणिक/लबाड which she saw through instantly, and said to herself, directly he went (again from some book), "Lies, खोटे lies, lies!" For a party makes things either much more real, or much less real, she thought, she saw in a flash विचारांचा/भावनांचा स्फोट to the bottom of Robert Haydon's heart; she saw through everything. She saw the truth. This was true, this drawing-room, this self, and the other false. Miss Milan's little workroom was really terribly भयानक hot, stuffy, चिडखोर sordid. घाणेरडा/नीच It smelt वास घेतला of clothes and cabbage cooking; and yet, when Miss Milan put the glass in her hand, and she looked at herself with the dress on, finished, an extraordinary bliss आनंद shot through her heart. Suffused हळूहळू पसरलेला the with light, she sprang पसरली into existence. जीवन/अस्तित्व Rid सुटका/मुक्तता of cares and wrinkles, झुरळे what she had dreamed of herself was there-a beautiful woman. Just for a second (she had not dared look longer, Miss Milan wanted to know about the length of the skirt), there looked at her, framed रचला in the scrolloping गुंडाळणे mahogany, महागणी लाकूड a grey-white, mysteriously गूढपणे smiling, charming girl, the core महत्वाचा भाग/गाभा of herself, the soul of herself, and it was not vanity निरोपयोगी/निरर्थक गोष्ट only, not only self-love that made her think it good, tender, नाजूक and true. Miss Milan said that the skirt could not well be longer; if anything the skirt, said Miss Milan, puckering अठ्या पाडणे her forehead, considering विचार करत with all her wits व्यवहारज्ञान about her, must be shorter, and she felt, suddenly, honestly, (From page no.47) full of love for Miss Milan, much, much fonder आवड असणे of Miss Milan than of any one in the whole world, and could have cried for pity that she should be crawling रांगत जाणेon the floor with her mouth full of pins, टाचण्या and her face red and her eyes bulging फुगवटा that one human being should be doing this for another, and she saw them all as human beings merely, केवळ/फक्त and herself going off न जाता to her party, and Miss Milan pulling the cover over the canary's पिवळ्या पिसांचा गाणारा पक्षी cage, or letting him pick a hemp- seed ताग ,अंबाडी ई. तंतू देणाऱ्या वनस्पतीच्या बिया from between her lips, and the thought of it, of this side of human nature and its patience सहनशीलता/संयम and its endurance सहनशक्ती and its being content with such miserable, scanty, अपुरा/तुटपुंजा sordid, घाणेरडा/नीच little pleasures filled her eyes with tears.
And now the whole thing had vanished. The dress, the room, the love, the pity, the scrolloping गुंडाळलेला looking-glass, and the canary's गाणारा पक्षी cage-all had vanished, and here she was in a comer of Mrs. Dalloway's drawing-room, स्वागत कक्ष suffering tortures, छळ woken जागृत wide विस्तीर्ण/रुंद awake to reality.
But it was all so paltry, क्षुल्लक/तुच्छ weak-blooded, and petty-minded क्षुद्र बुद्धीचा to care so much at her age with two children, to be still so utterly पूर्णपणे dependent on people's opinions and not have principles तत्वे or convictions, विश्वास/खात्री not to be able to say as other people did, "There's Shakespeare! There's death! We're all weevils भुंगे in a captain's biscuit" - or whatever it was that people did say.
She faced herself straight in the glass; she pecked चोचीने उचलला at her left shoulder; she issued out वाटप into the room, as if spears भाले were thrown at her yellow dress from all sides. But instead of looking fierce क्रूर/उग्र or tragic, as Rose Shaw would have done-Rose would have looked like Boadicea ब्रिटिश राणी -she looked foolish and self-conscious, and simpered उत्कृष्ट like a schoolgirl and slouched खाली मान घालून चालणे across the room, positively slinking, लाजून हसणे as if she were a beaten हरलेला mongrel, मनुष्यप्राणी/मिश्र जातीचा कुत्रा and looked at a picture, an engraving. कोरीव काम As if one went to a party to look at a picture! Everybody knew why she did it it was from shame, लाज from humiliation. पानउतारा/मानखंडना
"Now the fly's in the saucer," बशी she said to herself, "right in the middle, and can't get out, and the milk," she thought, rigidly कडकपणे staring at टक लावून पहात the picture, “is sticking घुसवणे its wings together."
"It's so old-fashioned," she said to Charles Burt, making him stop (which by itself he hated) on his way to talk to some one else.
(From page no.48) She meant, म्हणजे or she tried to make herself think that she meant that it was the picture and not her dress, that was old-fashioned. And one word of praise, one word of affection from Charles would have made all the difference to her at the moment. If he had only said, "Mabel, you're looking charming tonight!"आजची रात्र it would have changed her life. But then she ought पाहिजे to have been truthful and direct. Charles said nothing of the kind, of course. He was malice द्वेष करणे itself. He always saw through one, especially if one were feeling particularly विशेषकरून mean, paltry, क्षुल्लक/तुच्छ or feeble-minded. दुबळ्या मनाचा
"Mabel's got a new dress!" he said, and the poor fly was absolutely पूर्णपणे shoved ढकलला into the middle of the saucer. बशी Really, he would like her to drown, she believed. He had no heart, no fundamental मूलभूत kindness, दयाळूपणा only a veneer वरवरचा भपका of friendliness. मित्रत्व Miss Milan was much more real, much kinder. दयाळू If only one could feel that and stick to it, always. "Why," she asked herself-replying to Charles much too pertly, उद्धटपणे letting him see that she was out of temper, मनाची स्थिती/स्वभाव or "ruffled" विस्कटलेला as he called it ("Rather ruffled?" विस्कटलेला he said and went on to laugh at her with some woman over there) -"Why," she asked herself, "can't I feel one thing always, feel quite मोठ्या प्रमाणात sure that Miss Milan is right, and Charles wrong and stick घुसवणे to it, feel sure about the canary एक गाणारा पक्षी and pity and love and not be whipped चाबूक मारणे/फतवा काढणे all round in a second by coming into a room full of people?" It was her odious, तिरस्करणीय weak, vacillating विचित्र again, always giving at the critical moment and not being seriously गंभीरपणे interested in conchology, शल्यचिकित्साशास्त्र etymology, उत्पत्तीशास्त्र botany, archeology, पुरातत्वशास्त्र cutting up potatoes and watching them fructify लवचिकपणा like Mary Dennis, like Violet Searle.
Then Mrs. Holman, seeing her standing there, bore सतवणे/थकवा येणे down upon her. Of course a thing like a dress was beneath खाली Mrs. Holman's notice, with her family always tumbling पडणे downstairs खाली or having the scarlet fever. संसर्गजन्य रोग Could Mabel tell her if Elmthorpe was ever let for August and September? Oh, it was a conversation that bored संतापने her unutterably! अखंडपणे -it made her furious रागीट to be treated like a house agent दुसऱ्याचे काम करणारा प्रतिनिधी or a messenger boy, to be made use of. Not to have value, that was it, she thought, trying to grasp आकलन something hard, something real, while she tried to answer sensibly समंजसपणे about the bathroom and the south aspect बाजू/पैलू and the hot water to the top of the house, and all the time she could see little bits लहान तुकडा of her yellow dress in the round looking-glass which made them all the size of boot-buttons or tadpoles, एक बेडूक and it was amazing to think how much humiliation पानउतारा/मानखंडना and agony वेदना/पीडा and (From page no.49) self-loathing तीव्र तिरस्कार and effort and passionate तापट/शीघ्रकोपी ups and downs of feeling were contained in a thing the size of a threepenny तीन पेन्स किमतीचे bit. लहान तुकडा And what was still odder, विलक्षण this thing, this Mabel Waring, was separate, quite मोठ्या प्रमाणात disconnected; and though Mrs. Holman (the black button) was leaning कल/ओढ forward and telling her how her eldest boy had strained ओढूनताणून आणलेला his heart running, she could see her, too, quite मोठ्या प्रमाणात detached अलिप्त in the looking-glass, and it was impossible that the black dot, leaning कल/ओढ forward, gesticulating, भावनिक होत should make the yellow dot, sitting solitary, self-centred, feel what the black dot was feeling, yet they pretended. ढोंग करणे
"So impossible to keep boys quiet"शांत -that was the kind of thing one said.
And Mrs. Holman, who could never get enough sympathy सहानुभूती and snatched हिसकावलेला what little there was greedily, लोभाने as if it were her right but she deserved पात्र/योग्य असणे much more for there was her little girl who had come down this morning with a swollen सुजलेला knee गुडघा-joint), took this miserable दुःखी offering देऊ करणे and looked at it suspiciously, संशयास्पदरितीने grudgingly, नाखुषीने as if it were a halfpenny अर्धा पेनी किमतीची when it ought to पाहिजे असणे have been a pound एक इंग्रजी नाणे and put it away in her purse, पर्स must put up with it mean and miserly दुर्दैवीपणे though it was, times being hard, so very hard; and on she went, creaking, करकर आवाज करीत injured Mrs. Holman, about the girl with the swollen सुजलेले-joints. Ah, दुःखसूचक शब्द it was tragic, this greed, लोभ/हाव this clamour आरडाओरड/विरोध करणे of human beings, like a row खडाजंगी/भांडण of cormorants, एक समुद्र पक्षी/खादाड माणूस barking and flapping फडफड करणे their wings for sympathy सहानुभूती-it was tragic, could one have felt it and not merely केवळ pretended ढोंग केलेला to feel it!
But in her yellow dress to-night she could not wring पिळुन काढणे out one drop more; she wanted it all, all for herself. She knew माहित होते (she kept on looking into the glass, dipping थेंब पडणे into that dreadfully घाबरून showing-up bluc pool) that she was condemned, दोशी/निरुपयोगी despised, तिरस्कारयुक्त left like this in a backwater, because of her being अस्तित्वात येणे like this a feeble, दुबळा vacillating creature; विचित्र प्राणी and it seemed to her that the yellow dress was a penance प्रायश्चित्त which she had deserved, पात्र/लायक असणे and if she had been dressed like Rose Shaw, in lovely, clinging चिटकवणे green with a ruffle विस्कटणे of swansdown, she would have deserved पात्र/लायक असणे that; and she thought that there was no escape for her-none what so ever. But it was not her fault altogether, after all. It was being one of a family of ten; never having money enough, always skimping लबाडी करत and paring; and her mother carrying great cans, and the linoleum जमिनीवर अंथरायचे कॅनव्हासचे जाड कापड worn झिजलेला on the stair edges, पायरीची कडा and (From page no.50) one sordid घाणेरडी/नीच little domestic कौटुंबिक tragedy after another-nothing catastrophic, आपत्तीमय the sheep farm failing, अपयश but not utterly; पूर्णपणे her eldest brother marrying beneath खाली him but not very much-there was no romance, nothing extreme about them all. They petered हळूहळू संपुष्टात येणे out respectably in seaside resorts, every watering-place had one of her aunts even now asleep झोपलेला in some lodging with the front windows not quite मोठ्या प्रमाणात facing the sea. That was so like them they had to squint तिरके पाहणे at things always. And she had done the same-she was just like her aunts. For all her dreams of living in India, married to some hero like Sir Henry Lawrence, some empire सम्राज्य builder (still the sight of a native in a turban पगडी/फेटा filled her with romance), she had failed utterly. पूर्णपणे had married Hubert, with his safe, permanent underling's हाताखाली काम करणारा नोकर job in the Law Courts, and they managed tolerably सहनशीलतेने in a smallish लहान house, without proper maids, नोकर and hash कोणत्याही कामात घोटाळा करणे when she was alone or just bread and butter, अन्न but now and then वेळोवेळी Mrs Holman was off, दूर thinking her the most dried-up, सुकलेला unsympathetic सहानभूती नसणारा twig अकस्मात लक्षात येणे she had ever met, absurdly वेडेपणाने dressed, too, and would tell every one about Mabel's fantastic appearance दर्शन-now and then, वेळोवेळी thought Mabel Waring, left alone on the blue sofa, punching मुठीने ठोसा देणे the cushion उशी/तक्क्या in order to look occupied, for she would not join Charles Burt and Rose Shaw, chattering बडबड करत like magpies बडबडे लोक and perhaps laughing at her by the fireplace - now and then, वेळोवेळी there did come to her delicious moments, reading the the other night in bed, (From page no.51). for instance, or down by the sea on the sand in the sun, at Easter ख्रिश्चनांचा सण - let her recall it - a great tuft गुच्छ/झुबका of pale फिकट रंगाचे sand-grass standing all twisted गुंडाळणे/पिळणे like a shock of spears भाले against the sky, which was blue like a smooth china egg, so firm, टणक/कठीण so hard, and then the melody स्वरमाधुर्य of the waves -"Hush, शांत करणे hush," they said, and the children's shouts paddling अनवाणी पायाने चालणे - yes, it was a divine moment, and there she lay, she felt, in the hand of the Goddess who was the world; rather जरासा a hard-hearted, but very beautiful Goddess, a little lamb laid on काळजीपूर्वक ठेवणे the altar बदल(one did think these silly things, and it didn't matter so long as one never said them). And also with Hubert sometimes she had quite मोठ्या प्रमाणात unexpectedly अपेक्षित नसलेले -carving कापणे/कोरणे the mutton for Sunday lunch, for no reason, opening a letter, coming into a room divine दैवी, when she said to herself (for she would never say this to anybody else दुसरा/शिवाय), "This is it. This has happened. This is it!" And the other way about it was equally surprising - that is, when everything was arranged - music, weather, holidays, every reason for happiness was there - then nothing happened at all. One wasn't happy. It was flat, just flat, that was all.
Her wretched दुर्बल झालेला self again, no doubt! She had always been a fretful, असमाधानी weak, unsatisfactory असमाधानकारक mother, a wobbly अस्थिरपणे wife, lolling आळसात पडून राहणे about in a kind of twilight संधिप्रकाश existence with nothing very clear or very bold, or more one thing than another, like all her brothers and sisters, except च्याशिवाय perhaps Herbert-they were all the same poor water-veined वृत्ती/मनप्रवृत्ती creatures who did nothing. Then in the midst of this creeping, रांगणारा crawling सावकाश जाणारे/रांगणारे life, suddenly she was on the crest तुरा/शिखरof a wave. हलवणे That wretched असमाधानी/दुबळा fly - where had she read the story that kept coming into her mind about the fly and the saucer? -struggled out. Yes, she had those moments. But now that she was forty, they might कदाचित come more and more seldom. क्वचितच By degrees सामाजिक दर्जा/प्रमाण she would cease थांबवणे to struggle any more. But that was deplorable! अत्यंत वाईट That was not to be endured! सहन केले That made her feel ashamed लज्जास्पद of herself?
She would go to the London Library tomorrow. She would find some wonderful, helpful, astonishing आश्चर्यचकित book, quite by chance, a book by a clergyman, ख्रिश्चन धर्मगुरू by an American no one had ever heard of; or she would walk down the Strand वाळूतील अरुंद रस्ता and drop, accidentally, योगायोगाने into a hall where a miner खान कामगार was telling about the life in the pit, खड्डा and suddenly she would become a new person. She would be absolutely पूर्णपणे transformed. बदलला (From page no.52) She would wear a uniform; she would be called Sister Somebody; मोठी व्यक्ती she would never give a thought to clothes again. And for ever after she would be perfectly clear about Charles Burt and Miss Milan and this room and that room; and it would be always, day after day, as if she were lying in the sun or carving कापणे/कोरणे the mutton. It would be it!
So she got up कपडे घातले from the blue sofa, and the yellow button in the looking-glass got up कपडे घातले too, and she waved हलवले her hand to Charles and Rose to show them she did not depend on them one scrap, निरुपयोगी वस्तू/भंगार and the yellow button moved out वळणे of the looking-glass, and all the spears भाले were gathered into her breast छाती as she walked towards Mrs. Dalloway and said "Good night."
"But it's too early to go," said Mrs. Dalloway, who was always so charming. आकर्षक/मोहक
"I'm afraid I must," said Mabel Waring. "But," she added in her weak, wobbly डळमळीत/अस्थिरपणे voice which only sounded ridiculous हास्यास्पद when she tried to strengthen it, "I have enjoyed myself enormously."प्रचंड/फार
'I have enjoyed myself,” she said to Mr. Dalloway, whom she met on the stairs.
"Lies, खोटे lies, lies!" she said to herself, going downstairs, and "Right in the saucer!" बशी she said to herself as she thanked Mrs. Barnet for helping her and wrapped आच्छादित herself, round and round and round, in the Chinese cloak मोठा झगा she had worn these twenty years.
-Virginia Woolf.