# 100 Women: A minor Writer’s ‘Own Corner’

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The book ‘A Room of One’s Own’ was published in 1929, its central tone is that a woman should have her own room for her writing, her room to keep her own private, its economic Freedom is important.

Kaushal Panwar is telling the same flirtation of getting his room through his life journey: –

I also had a corner in the house, there would be a table and a chair, I always wanted it. But for me it would be equitable to keep a circle around a part of the house.

There was no mistake of my parents in this, they even spent all my life in the closet of the house. This house was called because the people in this house lived together, whether it be goats, poultry or else there was a stove placed in a corner, along with that some pot of aluminum was disinfected.

In the same cell there used to be a pot for drinking water in a corner, and a dough to keep the grain in one corner (the tank to store the grains made in a way). This was our closet, which was Every corner was fixed from the outside, so for me it was very difficult to build a corner permanently in that closet.

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It was my biggest dream of that time that just like a chicken and a goat, I also had a corner, which could not have changed every day, but I did not have to change it. In the same room the mother, grandmother and me also used to make a corner bath, which was cleansed after bathing and in the same way the food was cooked on the stove.

I used to read books by reading the book on the couch and by turning the knees to my reading.
I had read the passion of reading since childhood. Whenever there was any stuff from the outside of the house wrapping it in paper, then I used to read that boged paper.

My uncle (I used to call my father only) was very impressed with this passion. Whenever I sat in front of him, turning his knee, sometimes doing it, and walking around for a book, he did not like to see them.

One day uncle asked what I needed, I refused that I do not need anything. They got up and went out. How to tell them that I need a chair and a table on which I can sit and read something and read. The circumstances of the house were not such that I could tell them.

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It was also an unnecessary thing for the house, which was also difficult to determine the place to keep. When uncle returned home in the evening, he had a small stool in his hand and a small plastic chair. I was very laughing at the sight. I kept laughing and holding laugh.

Uncle quietly looked at me. When I was silent, he said, “Take this, read it on this. They were left out on the ground. I started crying after laughing, I was awkward at that time. When there were lashes in the house, Uncle was doing all this for me.

I was thinking that laughing my laugh was not unpleasant to uncle. But still I was very happy, now my corner was fixed at home. Although the size of the stool and chair was small and I had grown up now, but for uncle, I was still small.

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Mother also said that now she is not getting younger, her legs are coming out of the stool and sitting on the chair. Uncle understood the reason for laughter and himself was smiling. But I was very happy, my wish was fulfilled.
In this way my room, i.e. it was made of plastic chair and a small stool, but also made ‘multi-purpose’ with itself. Whenever a guest came, my books were taken off and given to keep tea on it, which made me feel very bad. After drinking tea, he would become mine.

Time passed and I came in tenth, but with the studies – whatever was happening nearby now, whatever was going on in my home family, I started taking it on paper now.

When he was able to calm his anger, he said that he would pass the moment, who used to distract the mind, then he would tear down the same paper. All of my age, I knew that I used to write anything other than a few studies, sometimes they read and told me that if someone reads, they will kill you, they will take you out of school and I will also get scared and afraid. Gives

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Speaking of my mind and being disturbed by the quarrels of the day in the house, I used to take the illusion of my mind only on pieces of these papers and besides this, my brother Subhash, who kept me away, kept writing a letter. There is mention of everything in it.

After the last meeting with him, all the nearby events would have been described in very detail, and whenever I got it I would give it to him. He also does that too. I am still safe with the correspondence we have written to each other.
I and my stool and chair, which now only used to keep books, had become an essential and essential part of the house. But who was kept from one place to another, just like I had left him now to come to live in the slum behind Kurukshetra University. But the whole family in that stool was known by my name.

I was not in the village anymore, but my stool, my corner of it, had left me as my identity in the form of my heritage. The fees for the university’s hostel were very high, which was not the talk of my uncle and uncle.

To do MA, the first few months spent in the middle of Rajond and Kurukshetra, in the Faral, Pundari, where Nani was spending his life by working in the homes of others.

I too had to go with my grandmother for a lot of cleaning and muddy. For both of us the bread and the pickle or sometimes the vegetable used to get that odor instead of carrying it on my head. I’ll write again in detail on this.

In this way my studies were being harmed, so I talked with uncle and talked about staying in the slum lying behind the university’s hostel. Ration of water and small stove from home and a plate, spoon, glass etc. were all taken away.

It’s my attempt to spend as little as possible. I knew the financial condition of mother and uncle, I knew. All were forbidden to read further, one reason with so many reasons was that the university’s education costs would not be complete, I knew both this and uncle, but both had the conviction that at least At low cost, I can complete my further studies.

Apart from spending on books, there was no such cost that could not be avoided. Neither of the creations used to show themselves as beautiful, I was fond of any other thing, nor was there any fondness of clothing, nor was there any hobby of clothing, so with the consent of uncle, I had come to this slum In the settlement, which was also known as the slum settlement
There was a single toilet of the entire settlement and there was a lot of trouble in the morning, in the same tone. Facing all of these, I used to write a lot about myself. Filled several diaries. Whenever Subhash comes, he gives it to read, in which every day pain and suffering-tacalif was filled.

Some would have gentle feelings and if he got the next time he would cry very much and tell his inability, encourage him, give his vow to fulfill his dream, to get out of his uncle’s blood and reach his height To fulfill the request It was the only purpose that has been done now.

Now my room was mine, I had rented it for forty rupees, which I used to teach tuition to nearby students, and the condition of those students would remain like me, so many times this room Could not even pay rent Because of which many had to listen too much.

In this difficult period of MA, my companion of happiness and misery, my brother, left me, went away – was broken, so many steps went from the inside, but his sentence said, ‘Do not leave your studies in the middle, There is something to be done, no matter what happens, do not get tired, do not lose anything. ‘

Writes a lot During this time, apart from studying my curriculum, I would do a lot more, with the preparation of UPSC, poetry, stories, rather I should say that my pain began to fall on paper. But the idea of ​​saving them had not come before me, and in the meantime, just as if the copies were written down here a little bit.

There was still a time to give another blow. The first year of the MA was passed, the entry was finalized. In this room of my slum, some literary letter magazines were started collecting in every corner. Preparing the net was doing night and day.
As soon as the library opened, he sat on the other corner corner chair and stayed there until it was closed. At the same time, UPSC, which was my own dream, was also preparing for it.

Uncle was dreaming to take the biggest degree in the school, and in the lecture stand of Subhash College, he wanted to see lectures while keeping his track down and dreaming of giving a speech on it – I had a small child, hence the track Writing lectures And I – my dream was to pass the UPSC and become a big officer, for which free coaching that I had started without telling the uncle.
And one day he left this journey with his dream and went away in an unknown world, never to come back.

Just now I and my room were left, that means that the rental hut Now there was no longer meant to do anything, neither was Subhash’s side nor uncle. The rest of the relations were relations of blood, but they never got two words of belonging to them.

If anything had been found then there were suspicious eyes, which, if I came to my village, asked the same question that I …… I have left the remaining things to be in my girl or ……. All. And as I suppose I was able to give myself a clearer insight that I am studying and working very hard – every time that fire test, which was enough to break my fancy.

But now what? Everything ended … it took me three months to come out of this shock. But everyone like me had even made up my mind to co-operate with me, and most of the mother had gathered completely with me, as if uncle had vowed to take her now to her place, both brothers also now with my decision Were.

And in this journey, came to be my friend, Mukesh, who filled my emptiness in my life, did not give love to uncle and brother but given the lack of it, he supported me in fulfilling that destination and dream.

Then the uncle’s dream was made for the purpose of life and then did not look back. Losing as if I had lost it. One word of Uncle was enough for me to live.
The slum was now deserted, after MA, Karnal had come to Beed. Even here, the rental had taken its own room, whenever the landlord came to know that I am a ‘clown’ society, I have to leave the room. During this time, we decided to make Suhafar a Muslim and we got married. On the second day of marriage only to return to the same room. After BEd, M. Phill went from Rohtak and then traveled to JNU.

Despite not having a room, the writing work continued in these rooms.

Now I had become a teacher, that too in a big city like Chandigarh. But here also was my room, but the rental. Sometimes the rooms of Ramdarbar and the Daddumajra room ever.

Crossing all of these was made in Delhi University. But here also the room was not found on its own, and at the same time, struggling to get rid of the caste system, it was forced to take his own room, but Atal was determined and the front floor.

Even though I was not comfortable, I decided to have my house and my room in that house. And today I have my own room, that room has a chair and table of my choice, the entire room is my library, in which the whole house belong to the things which make the most, it is the books. Now I have my room, and with it there is uncle’s yard, which inspires me to continue moving forward

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