38 minutes agoAuthor: Gaurav Pandey
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- The enemy army was trying to teach its language to the school students of France and the people of the villages, but people were shedding tears for fear of losing the language.
- This story has been written by the French novelist and narrator Alphez Dade, the last name of the story is The Last Lesson.
“Even in the era of slavery, as long as we hold our language, we have a prison key in our hands.” That is, we can think how much language means to us.
What language is important for a country and its people? We can learn its lesson from the Franco-Prussian War that took place some 250 years ago. It is from 1870-1871. When France was defeated in the war by Prussia led by Bismarck. Prussia then consisted of the then Germany, Poland and Austria.
France's Alsace and Lorraine districts fell into Prussia's hands. The enemy army wanted to teach their language to the school students and village people here, and the people were shedding tears for fear of losing their language. This story is written by the French novelist and storyteller Alfaiz Dode. The story is titled The Last Lesson, that is, the last lesson.
It has been translated into Hindi for us by Dr. Hari Singh Gaur University of Microbiology at Sagar Professor Naveen Kango has. On Hindi Day, we must read this story so that we can understand the importance of language, love it, live it.
Read the last lesson…
I was late for school that day and I was scared of being scolded. Especially because Mr. Hamel was about to ask questions on French grammar and I did not know a word of that. I thought I should run away and spend the whole day outside. There was golden sunshine that day and the chirping of birds was being heard in the forest. On the other side, Prussian soldiers were maneuvering in the open ground behind Aramil. All of this was more attractive than the grammar lesson, but I turned to school, suppressing my desire.
While passing through the town hall, I saw a crowd of people on the notice board. All the bad news in the last two years, such as defeat in battle, new drafts, orders of the commanding officer – were found here only. I thought non-stop – “What could be the matter now?” On seeing me in a hurry, the vaucher blacksmith who was reading the information there with his disciple, called and said “Don't be so hasty, baby, You will get a lot of time by reaching school. ''
I thought he was making fun of me and I gasped and reached the garden outside Mr. Hamel's class.
The school usually started with a loud crowd recital, noise, the opening and closing of tables, and the scattering on the teacher's cane table. But today everything was quiet and stunned. I was silently trying to reach my desk.
I saw from the window that all the fellows were sitting in their places and Mr. Hamel was walking up and down with a fierce cane in his hand. I had to open the door and enter in front of everyone. You can guess my shame and fear.
But nothing happened, but Mr. Hamel said to me very kindly “Dear Franz, you go quickly to your place, we were going to start the class without you.”
I leapt and sat on my bench. I had not yet shivered with fear that I saw our teacher wearing a beautiful coat, fringed shirt, short black silk cap, which he wore only for inspection or prize distribution. Apart from this, the whole class was strangely covered in sadness. But the most surprising thing was that people like us were sitting silently on the back benches. Among them were old hawkers wearing their triangular hats, former mayors, postmaster and many others. Everyone looked sad.
I was contemplating the situation that Mr. Hamel sat down in his chair and in the same sad and soft tone as he spoke to me. He said, “My children, today I am going to teach you the last lesson. Under the order issued from Berlin, now only German will be taught in the schools of Alsesh and Lorraine. The new teacher will arrive tomorrow. This is your last French practice. I want you to pay a lot of attention. “
Were these words not like a thunderclap for me!
Oh how unfortunate! So in the town hall, he had put all this.
My last french lesson! Why? I was just barely able to learn to write. I will not be able to learn anymore! I have to stop here again! Oh, is that so! How sorry I was for not learning my lesson, instead I kept searching for birds' eggs and leaping across the river Saar. The books of grammar and stories of saints, which till now seemed to me to be hindered and burdened, suddenly turned into my old, unapproachable friends and Mr. Hamel too!
Poor Mr. Hamel! So I had worn these ornamental clothes at the end of my last lesson and now I had understood the reason for sitting back in the room of the old men of the village. They were also sad that they could not go to school often. It was his way of expressing his gratitude to his teachers for his forty years of reliable services and loyalty to the country, which was no longer his.
Just when I was thinking all this, my name has been called. Now it was my turn to read / repeat the text. Could I explain the grammar rule? In a loud clear voice, without mistake, but my tongue slipped and my beats intensified in the initial words, I remained standing with my desk lowered.
That's why “I won't scold you” – I heard Mr. Hamel saying. “Little Franz, you should feel bad yourself.” Look like that! We say to ourselves every day- Hey; It is a long time, I will learn it tomorrow and now you see where we are. Ahh! “
'Your parents and parents were also not serious about your learning, they wanted you to work with them on the farm or mill, so that they could get some more money. and me? I too should be accused. If I had not sent you water instead of reading the text often on my flowers and plants. And didn't I leave you whenever I wanted to go fishing? '
Then from one point to another, Mr. Hamel continued to speak in French that he is the most beautiful language in the world. The clearest, most logical and that we should protect him, never forget him. He said that when some people are enslaved, as long as they hold their language, then they hold the key of the prison. '
Then he told us a text from the grammar book. I was amazed at how clear this lesson was to me. What they were saying seemed very simple, very easy! I think I have never listened to them so carefully nor have they ever explained it to us so systematically. It seemed that poor Mr. Hamel wanted to give us all his knowledge before leaving.
After grammar, we learned a writing lesson! On that day Mr. Hamel had copies for us in beautiful circular letters – France, Alsace, France, Alsace.
It seemed as if small flags of France had spread around the classroom. They hung on our desks from the roof rad. You should have seen how everyone got busy writing and how quiet it was. Only on paper were the sounds of the pen moving. Some pigeons on the roof were slowly muttering and I wondered if they would even ask pigeons to sing in German?
When I looked up, I found that Mr. Hamel is watching us carefully at one place or other at some time, as if he wants to soak up this class in his mind. Leaving all this, how the heart of those poor people will be broken; While he was able to hear the sound of his sister walking in the upper room and packing in the trunk!
He needed to leave the country yesterday, but today he had the courage to listen to all the chapters till the end. After writing, we had to read the chapter of history and then some infants came up …… ba, bay, be, bo, boo. At the same time, the old hawser was chasing the booklet of Barakhadhi with glasses with both hands and was pronouncing a few words with him. You could see that he was also crying. His voice was filled with emotion, and it was so fun to hear that we wanted to laugh crying.
Ahh! How well I remember that last lesson!
Suddenly the church clock played twelve and then the Angels prayer began. At the same time, the trumpet sound of the Prussian soldiers, returning from the maneuvers, was heard behind our windows. Mansier Hamel's face was pale and he was sitting on a chair, I had never felt so high.
“My friends” I,, I, … … he was strangled in an attempt to say something. He could not speak any more. Then he turned to the blackboard, picked up a piece of chalk and wrote 'Vive la France' (France Zindabad) with his strength.
Then he stopped and he rested his head on the wall and without uttering a word, said with his hand gestures, “School is over – you can go”.
A scene from the Franco-Prussian War that took place 250 years ago.
250 years ago Franco-Prussian War shows the importance of language