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বই থেকে নমুনা পাঠ্য (মেশিন অনুবাদিত)
(Click to expand)INTRODUCTION, 7 they apprehend such an enquiry to be the precursor of some oppression.
In several instances the owners of old MSS., when they came to learn
The unwillingnoss of that I had sure knowledge of their possession, fell
the owners to part prostrate at my feet with tears in their eves and
ee implored me not to impose an income tax on them
for keeping these books! It was difficult on my part to convince them
of the reason why I wanted the MSS. The rustic villagers of Eastera
Bengal especially I found very unwilling to part with the books in
their possession. In the village of Rajbiri in Tipperah I found a whole
poem of Mahabharata by Nityinanda Ghosh, the reputed predecessor
of Kiishi Das, copied about three hundred years ago, lying in the house
ofan illiterate washerman. I offered him a reasonably large sum for the
book, but he declined to sell it. A fortnight after this refusal, his house was
burnt and the rare old MS. with 101
While Sanskrit MSS. generally bear bark covers, the bulk of Bengali’
MSS. are found inside wooden covers decdrated with various artistic
engravings or with paintings and designs showing Pauranic models. They
are tied with strong twine and I often came across MSS. from two to
three hundred years old, with no sign of having been opened for a-century
and a half. The yellow paper, on which the books were, written was
specially prepared with arsenic and other ingredients as a preventive . against
The story of anold insects. In a village on the border-land of Sylhet,
wonaniand ter Ms. fatigued by a walk of 18 miles without food, I
approached the house of a milkman where it had been reported there
was an old MS. One of her near relations introduced me to the old woman
of the house who was the owner of the book and she agreed to show it to
me. I found it under a heap of flowers and Bel leaves, for it used tg be
worshipped daily in the house. I showed the old woman my sacred.
thread and gained permission to touch the book. While I was untying the
cover, the old woman was eclamouring at the hichest pitch of her voice,
warning me to be careful and expressing her doubt that I would be able
to tie the covers again as tightly as they were before. I did not pay any
heed to her words, but opened the MS. and took my notes from it.
When, however, I had finished my work and was about to fasten
it again, the old woman cried out that the binding was not tight
enough. 1] applied all my might, but the ancient milkman
who had tied it more than a century before, must have been
a veritable rustic Samson, as the impression of the cord on the wooden
covers of the book indicated ; and how could I, a frail mortal, cope with that.
giant’smight and fit the cord on his lines ! ‘It is loose’, ‘it is loose’, she
cried, till she became fierce, and my palms were torn and bleeding in