शब्द अमर होते हैं—एलिनोर

Words are immortal - Elinor

Words are immortal - Elinor

तुम कुछ ज़रूरी भूल रहे हो! -क्या? -यह मेरी स्वेटर के नीचे है! -क्या?! -मैं!

-You forgot something important! -What? -It's under my sweater! -WHAT?! -Me!

-You forgot something important! -What? -It's under my sweater! -WHAT?! -Me!

हो सकता है कि किताब की कहानी सिर्फ किसी पतीले के ढक्कन जैसी हो: वह वैसी ही रहती है, लेकिन उसके नीचे एक पूरी दुनिया चल रही होती है - हमारी अपनी दुनिया की तरह विकसित होती और बदलती हुई।

Perhaps the story in the book is just the lid on a pan: It always stays the same, but underneath there's a whole world that goes on - developing and changing like our own world.

Perhaps the story in the book is just the lid on a pan: It always stays the same, but underneath there's a whole world that goes on - developing and changing like our own world.

यह बहुत सुंदर है! दर्दनाक और खूबसूरत," मैगी ने बुदबुदाया। दुख भरी कहानियाँ अक्सर इतनी खूबसूरत क्यों होती थीं? असल ज़िंदगी में तो मामला अलग ही होता था।

Thats beautiful! Sad and beautiful," murmured Meggie. Why were sad stories often so beautiful? It was different in real life.

Thats beautiful! Sad and beautiful," murmured Meggie. Why were sad stories often so beautiful? It was different in real life.

कभी-कभी डस्टफिंगर को लगता था कि श्रापों और अचानक आने वाली आपदाओं से बास्टा का लगातार डर शायद उसके अपने भीतर के अंधेरे के खौफ से पैदा होता था, जिसकी वजह से वह यह मान बैठता था कि बाकी की दुनिया भी बिल्कुल वैसी ही होगी।

Sometimes Dustfinger thought Basta's constant fear of curses and sudden disaster probably arose from his terror of the darkness within himself, which made him assume that the rest of the world must be exactly the same.

Sometimes Dustfinger thought Basta's constant fear of curses and sudden disaster probably arose from his terror of the darkness within himself, which made him assume that the rest of the world must be exactly the same.

दिल कमज़ोर और बदलने वाली चीज़ था, जो प्यार के सिवा कुछ नहीं जानता था, और इसे अपना मालिक बना लेना सबसे बड़ी भूल साबित हो सकती थी। अक्ल को कमान संभालनी चाहिए थी। वह दिल की बेवकूफियों पर आपको दिलासा देती थी, प्यार पर तंज भरे गीत गाती थी, और फूलों की तरह पल भर में मुरझा जाने वाली कुदरत की एक महज़ सनक कहकर उसका मज़ाक उड़ाती थी। तो फिर वह अब भी अपने दिल के पीछे क्यों चली जा रही थी?

The heart was a weak, changeable thing, bent on nothing but love, and there could be no more fatal mistake than to make it your master. Reason must be in charge. It comforted you for the heart's foolishness, it sang mocking songs about love, derided it as a whim of nature, transient as flowers. So why did she still keep following her heart?

The heart was a weak, changeable thing, bent on nothing but love, and there could be no more fatal mistake than to make it your master. Reason must be in charge. It comforted you for the heart's foolishness, it sang mocking songs about love, derided it as a whim of nature, transient as flowers. So why did she still keep following her heart?

आखिरकार डस्टफिंगर ने कहा, "मेरी प्यारी एलिनॉर, तुम साफ़ तौर पर किसी गलत कहानी में पैदा हो गई हो।"

My dear Elinor, you were obviously born into the wrong story,” said Dustfinger at last.

My dear Elinor, you were obviously born into the wrong story,” said Dustfinger at last.

“क्या तुम सचमुच हमें पकड़कर वापस एस्थर के पास ले जाने वाले हो? हम उसके नहीं हैं, जानते हो न।” विक्टर ने झेंपते हुए अपने जूतों की तरफ़ देखा। “खैर, बच्चों को आख़िर किसी न किसी का तो होना ही पड़ता है,” उसने बुदबुदाया। “क्या तुम किसी के हो?” “वह अलग बात है।” “क्योंकि तुम एक बड़े इंसान हो?”

Are you really going to catch us and take us back to Esther? We don’t belong to her, you know.” Embarrassed, Victor stared at his shoes. “Well, children all have to belong to somebody,” he muttered. “Do you belong to someone?” “That’s different.” “Because you’re a grown-up?

Are you really going to catch us and take us back to Esther? We don’t belong to her, you know.” Embarrassed, Victor stared at his shoes. “Well, children all have to belong to somebody,” he muttered. “Do you belong to someone?” “That’s different.” “Because you’re a grown-up?

कई [किताबें] तो फर्श पर खुली की खुली पड़ी थीं। उनकी जिल्दें ऊपर की तरफ़ थीं। एलिनॉर से ये सब देखा नहीं गया! क्या उस राक्षस को नहीं पता था कि यह किसी किताब की गर्दन मरोड़ने का तरीका है?

Many [book] even lay flat in the floor open. Their spines upward. Elinor couldn't bear to look! Didn't the monster know that was the way to break a book's neck?

Many [book] even lay flat in the floor open. Their spines upward. Elinor couldn't bear to look! Didn't the monster know that was the way to break a book's neck?

हाँ, मुझे रात में सैर करना बहुत पसंद है। तब दुनिया मुझे ज़्यादा रास आती है, उतनी शोरगुल वाली नहीं, उतनी तेज़ नहीं, उतनी भीड़भाड़ वाली नहीं, और काफी हद तक ज़्यादा रहस्यमयी।

Yes, I do enjoy walking at night. The world’s more to my liking then, not so loud, not so fast, not so crowded, and a good deal more mysterious.

Yes, I do enjoy walking at night. The world’s more to my liking then, not so loud, not so fast, not so crowded, and a good deal more mysterious.

मेरी दादी कहानियाँ सुनाती थीं; वह इस काम में बहुत माहिर थीं।

My grandmother told stories; she was very good at that.

My grandmother told stories; she was very good at that.

मुझे ज़ोर-ज़ोर से पढ़ना बहुत पसंद है।

I love to read aloud.

I love to read aloud.

मुझे रोज़ एक ही खाना खाना पसंद नहीं है, इसलिए मैं बहुत तरह की अलग-अलग चीजें पढ़ती हूँ।

I don't like to eat the same dish every day, so I read very different things.

I don't like to eat the same dish every day, so I read very different things.

और मेरी 'ड्रैगन राइडर' का अगला भाग लिखने की योजना है।

And I plan to write a sequel to Dragon Rider.

And I plan to write a sequel to Dragon Rider.

मुझे हेनरी पर्सेल नाम के संगीतकार पसंद हैं, और नील यंग को सुनना मुझे बहुत अच्छा लगता है।

I like a composer called Henry Purcell, and I love to listen to Neil Young.

I like a composer called Henry Purcell, and I love to listen to Neil Young.

इस किताब ने मुझे हमेशा के लिए सिखा दिया कि शब्दों की मदद से इस दुनिया से भाग निकलना कितना आसान है! आप किसी किताब के पन्नों के बीच दोस्त पा सकते हैं, बेहतरीन दोस्त।

This book taught me, once and for all, how easily you can escape this world with the help of words! You can find friends between the pages of a book, wonderful friends.

This book taught me, once and for all, how easily you can escape this world with the help of words! You can find friends between the pages of a book, wonderful friends.

और वहाँ बास्टा एक और लाश पर अपना पैर रखे खड़ा मुस्कुरा रहा था। भला क्यों नहीं? उसने अपना निशाना साध लिया था, और यह वही निशाना था जिसकी तलाश उसे शुरू से थी: डस्टफिंगर का दिल, उसका बेवकूफ दिल। जब उसने फरीद को अपनी बाहों में थामा, तो उसका दिल दो टुकड़ों में बंट गया, वह बस टूटकर बिखर गया, हालांकि इतने सालों से वह उसकी कितनी हिफाजत कर रहा था।

And there stood Basta with his foot already on another dead body, smiling. Why not? He had hit his target, and it was the target he had been aiming for all along: Dustfinger’s heart, his stupid heart. It broke in two as he held Farid in his arms, it simply broke in two, although he had taken such good care of it all these years.

And there stood Basta with his foot already on another dead body, smiling. Why not? He had hit his target, and it was the target he had been aiming for all along: Dustfinger’s heart, his stupid heart. It broke in two as he held Farid in his arms, it simply broke in two, although he had taken such good care of it all these years.

परेशान हो? तो क्या हुआ? मैं भी परेशान हूँ!" फेनोग्लियो ने उस पर झल्लाते हुए कहा। "मेरी कहानी बदकिस्मती में डूब रही है, और ये मेरे हाथ," उसने अपने हाथ उसकी तरफ बढ़ाते हुए कहा, "अब और लिखना नहीं चाहते! मुझे शब्दों से डर लगने लगा है मैगी! 'कभी ये शहद जैसे थे, अब ये ज़हर बन चुके हैं, खालिस ज़हर!' लेकिन वह लेखक ही क्या जिसे अब शब्दों से प्यार न बचा हो? मेरा यह क्या हाल हो गया है? यह कहानी मुझे खाए जा रही है, कुचले जा रही है, और मैं ही इसका रचनाकार हूँ!

Desperate? So what? I'm desperate, too!" Fenoglio snapped at her. "My story is foundering in misfortune, and these hands here," he said holding them out to her, "don't want to write anymore! I'm afraid of words Meggie! 'Once they were like honey, now they're poison, pure poison! But what is a writer who doesn't love words anymore? What have I come to? This story is devouring me, crushing me, and I'm it's creator!

Desperate? So what? I'm desperate, too!" Fenoglio snapped at her. "My story is foundering in misfortune, and these hands here," he said holding them out to her, "don't want to write anymore! I'm afraid of words Meggie! 'Once they were like honey, now they're poison, pure poison! But what is a writer who doesn't love words anymore? What have I come to? This story is devouring me, crushing me, and I'm it's creator!

मैं ऐसी कहानी पसंद करती हूँ जिसे इतनी समझ हो कि वह उसी पन्ने पर टिकी रहे जहाँ उसकी जगह है। - एलिनॉर

I prefer a story that has the good sense to stay on the page where it belongs. - Elinor

I prefer a story that has the good sense to stay on the page where it belongs. - Elinor

शाम के आसमान जैसा नीला, जेरानियम के फूलों जैसा नीला, डूबे हुए इंसानों के होठों जैसा नीला और बहुत ज़्यादा सुलगती हुई आग के दिल जैसा नीला। हाँ, कभी-कभी यह दुनिया भी बहुत गर्म होती थी। गर्म और ठंडी, रोशनी और अंधेरे से भरी, डरावनी और खूबसूरत, यह एक साथ सब कुछ थी। यह बात सही नहीं थी कि मृत्यु के लोक में आपको कुछ महसूस नहीं होता। आप महसूस करते थे, सुनते थे, सूंघते थे और देखते थे, लेकिन आपका दिल अजीब तरह से शांत रहता था, मानो नाच दोबारा शुरू होने से पहले वह आराम कर रहा हो। शांति। क्या यही वह शब्द था?

Blue as the evening sky, blue as cranesbill flowers, blue as the lips of drowned men and the heart of a blaze burning with too hot a flame. Yes, sometimes it was hot in this world, too. Hot and cold, light and dark, terrible and beautiful, it was everything all at once. It wasn't true that you felt nothing in the land of Death. You felt and heard and smelled and saw, but your heart remained strangely calm, as if it were resting before the dance began again. Peace. Was that the word?

Blue as the evening sky, blue as cranesbill flowers, blue as the lips of drowned men and the heart of a blaze burning with too hot a flame. Yes, sometimes it was hot in this world, too. Hot and cold, light and dark, terrible and beautiful, it was everything all at once. It wasn't true that you felt nothing in the land of Death. You felt and heard and smelled and saw, but your heart remained strangely calm, as if it were resting before the dance began again. Peace. Was that the word?

शायद इसलिए क्योंकि इस बार डर ने नहीं बल्कि प्यार ने उसे पढ़ने पर मजबूर किया था।

perhaps because this time not fear but love made him read.

perhaps because this time not fear but love made him read.

"मैं तुम्हारे लिए दुआ करती हूँ," उसने उसके गाल को चूमते हुए कहा। जितने भी लड़कों को उसने कभी देखा था, उनमें से सबसे प्यारे नैन-नक्श आज भी उसी के थे। लेकिन अब उसका दिल किसी और के लिए कहीं ज़्यादा तेजी से धड़क रहा था।

I wish you luck,' she said, kissing him on the cheek. He still had the most beautiful eyes of any boy she'd ever seen. But now her heart beat so much faster for someone else.

I wish you luck,' she said, kissing him on the cheek. He still had the most beautiful eyes of any boy she'd ever seen. But now her heart beat so much faster for someone else.

उसने उसे ढूंढ निकाला था और उसका शुक्रिया वापस लाई थी। वह यह बताना भी नहीं भूली कि उसने उसे यकीन दिलाया था कि वह वाकई में सबसे खूबसूरत परी थी जिस पर उसने कभी अपनी नज़रें डाली थीं।

She had found him and was bringing back his thanks. Nor did she forget to mention that he had assured her that she was indeed the most beautiful fairy he had ever set eyes on.

She had found him and was bringing back his thanks. Nor did she forget to mention that he had assured her that she was indeed the most beautiful fairy he had ever set eyes on.

|रात शिकारी जानवरों की होती है, और हमेशा से रही है। जब आप रोशनी और मजबूत दीवारों के सुरक्षित घेरे में घर के अंदर होते हैं, तो यह बात भूल जाना बहुत आसान होता है।

The night belongs to beasts of prey, and always has. It's easy to forget that when you're indoors, protected by light and solid walls.

The night belongs to beasts of prey, and always has. It's easy to forget that when you're indoors, protected by light and solid walls.

तितली ने आख़िर कब इल्ली के बारे में पूछा है?

Since when does the butterfly ask about the caterpillar?

Since when does the butterfly ask about the caterpillar?

तो यह हो गया, मैं यही सोचता रहा, तुम ठीक वैसी ही कहानी के बीचों-बीच हो जैसी तुम हमेशा से चाहते थे, और यह भयानक है। डर का स्वाद बिल्कुल अलग होता है जब आप सिर्फ उसके बारे में पढ़ नहीं रहे होते, मैगी, और हीरो बनना उतना मज़ेदार नहीं था जितनी मैंने उम्मीद की थी।

So it's happened, I kept thinking, you're in the middle of a story exactly as you've always wanted, and it's horrible. Fear tastes quite different when you're not just reading about it, Meggie, and playing hero wasn't half as much fun as I'd expected.

So it's happened, I kept thinking, you're in the middle of a story exactly as you've always wanted, and it's horrible. Fear tastes quite different when you're not just reading about it, Meggie, and playing hero wasn't half as much fun as I'd expected.

हम सब जानते हैं कि किसी किताब में पूरी तरह डूब जाना और कुछ समय के लिए वहीं जीना कितना मज़ेदार हो सकता है, लेकिन किसी कहानी से बाहर गिरकर अचानक खुद को इस दुनिया में पाना बिल्कुल भी मज़ेदार नहीं लगता।

We all know what fun it can be to get right into a book and live there for a while, but falling out of a story and suddenly finding yourself in this world doesn't seem to be much fun at all.

We all know what fun it can be to get right into a book and live there for a while, but falling out of a story and suddenly finding yourself in this world doesn't seem to be much fun at all.

चलो वेनिस भाग चलते हैं, और किसी पुराने सिनेमाघर में छुप जाते हैं। हम अपने बाल सुनहरे रंग से रंग लेंगे, ताकि कोई हमें कभी ढूंढ न सके!

Let's run away to Venice, and hide out in an old movie theater. We can dye our hair blonde, so no one will ever find us!

Let's run away to Venice, and hide out in an old movie theater. We can dye our hair blonde, so no one will ever find us!

लेकिन आख़िरकार, खलनायक ही तो कहानी के सूप में नमक का काम करते हैं।

But after all, the villains are the salt in the soup of a story.

But after all, the villains are the salt in the soup of a story.

कहानियों का आख़िर क्या मतलब अगर हम उनसे कुछ सीख न सकें?

What are stories for if we don't learn from them?

What are stories for if we don't learn from them?

मैंने अभी-अभी 'द वाइल्डेस्ट ब्रदर ऑन अर्थ' नाम की एक चित्रात्मक किताब बनाई है, और उसमें आपको मेरे दोनों बच्चे मिल जाएंगे।

I just did a picture book called The Wildest Brother on Earth, and you will find both of my children in there.

I just did a picture book called The Wildest Brother on Earth, and you will find both of my children in there.

कितना अजीब है ना कि कोई किताब कई बार पढ़ लेने के बाद और भी ज़्यादा मोटी लगने लगती है?

Isn't it odd how much fatter a book gets when you've read it several times?

Isn't it odd how much fatter a book gets when you've read it several times?

मुझे अपने घोड़े के पास जाना और कुत्ते के साथ टहलना पसंद है।

I like to visit my horse, have a walk with my dog.

I like to visit my horse, have a walk with my dog.

मुझे पढ़ना पसंद है, फिल्में देखना पसंद है और अपने बच्चों के साथ वक्त बिताना पसंद है।

I love to read, I love to watch movies, and I love to be with my children.

I love to read, I love to watch movies, and I love to be with my children.

मेरा बेटा हमेशा कहता है कि मुझे बहुत अजीब तरह का संगीत पसंद है।

My son always says I like very weird music.

My son always says I like very weird music.

मैं हैम्बर्ग में रहता हूँ; जो उत्तर दिशा में है। और मैं शहर के बाहरी इलाके में रहता हूँ। ऐसा लगता है जैसे कोई गाँव हो।

I live in Hamburg; that's in the north. And I live on the outskirts of town. It looks like countryside.

I live in Hamburg; that's in the north. And I live on the outskirts of town. It looks like countryside.

मैं आखिरी साँस तक किताबें लिखने की कोशिश करती रहूँगी।

I will try to write books until I drop dead.

I will try to write books until I drop dead.

उन दयनीय झोपड़ियों में कभी कोई राजकुमार नहीं रहा था, न ही लाल चोगा पहने कोई बिशप, वहाँ तो बस किसान और मजदूर रहते थे जिनकी कहानियाँ किसी ने नहीं लिखी थीं, और अब वे गुम हो चुकी थीं, जंगली थाइम और तेजी से बढ़ने वाली दूधिया घास के नीचे दबी हुई थीं।

No prince had lived in those wretched hovels, no red-robed bishops, only farmers and laborers whose stories no one had written down, and now they were lost, buried under wild thyme and fast growing spurge.

No prince had lived in those wretched hovels, no red-robed bishops, only farmers and laborers whose stories no one had written down, and now they were lost, buried under wild thyme and fast growing spurge.

श्रापयी, तबाह करने वाली, बेरहम चीजें हैं [किताबें]! झूठे वादों से भरी, धोखे से भरी, जो हमेशा आपको भूखा रखती हैं, कभी तृप्त नहीं करतीं, कभी नहीं!

Accursed, blasted, heartless things [books]! Full of empty promises, full of false lures, always making you hungry, never satisfying you, never!

Accursed, blasted, heartless things [books]! Full of empty promises, full of false lures, always making you hungry, never satisfying you, never!

इससे पहले कि वह मेरे बेचारी कविता के पंक्तियों पर अपने बड़े-बड़े घोड़े जैसे दांत गड़ा दे, हमें यहाँ से चल देना चाहिए!

Let's be off before he gets his great horsey teeth into my poor lines of verse!

Let's be off before he gets his great horsey teeth into my poor lines of verse!

उन्होंने सिपियो को यह नहीं बताया कि जाली नोटों में से कितने बचे थे क्योंकि, जैसा कि रिकियो ने कहा, 'आखिरकार, अब तुम एक जासूस हो।'

They wouldn't tell Scipio how much of the counterfeit cash was left since, as Riccio put it, 'You're a detective now, after all.

They wouldn't tell Scipio how much of the counterfeit cash was left since, as Riccio put it, 'You're a detective now, after all.

उसने पूछा, 'यह दुनिया... क्या तुम्हें सचमुच यह पसंद है?' कितना अजीब सवाल था! फरीद ने कभी खुद से ऐसी बातें नहीं पूछी थीं। वह डस्टफिंगर के साथ दोबारा पाकर खुश था और इससे कोई फर्क नहीं पड़ता था कि वे कहाँ थे। मैगी ने आगे कहा, 'यह एक क्रूर दुनिया है, तुम्हें नहीं लगता?' 'मो अक्सर मुझसे कहता था कि मैं बहुत आसानी से भूल जाती हूँ कि यह कितनी क्रूर है।' अपने जले हुए हाथों से, फरीद ने उसके सुनहरे बालों को सहलाया। वे अंधेरे में भी चमक रहे थे। उसने कहा, 'सारी दुनियाएँ क्रूर हैं। जिस दुनिया से मैं आता हूँ, जिस दुनिया से तुम आती हो, और यह वाली भी। हो सकता है कि तुम्हारी दुनिया के लोग वहाँ की क्रूरता को तुरंत न देख पाएँ, वह ज्यादा अच्छे से छुपी होती है, लेकिन होती वह भी वहीं है।'

This world,' she said. 'Do you really like it?' What a question! Farid never asked himself such things. He was glad to be with Dustfinger again and didn't mind where that was. It's a cruel world, don't you think?' Meggie went on. 'Mo often told me I forget how cruel it is too easily.' With his burned fingers, Farid stroke her fair hair. It shone even in the dark. 'They're all cruel,' he said. 'The world I come from, the world you come from, and this one, too. Maybe the people don't see the cruelty in your world right away, it's better hidden, but it's there all the same.

This world,' she said. 'Do you really like it?' What a question! Farid never asked himself such things. He was glad to be with Dustfinger again and didn't mind where that was. It's a cruel world, don't you think?' Meggie went on. 'Mo often told me I forget how cruel it is too easily.' With his burned fingers, Farid stroke her fair hair. It shone even in the dark. 'They're all cruel,' he said. 'The world I come from, the world you come from, and this one, too. Maybe the people don't see the cruelty in your world right away, it's better hidden, but it's there all the same.

उसकी उत्सुकता उस पर भारी पड़ रही थी। उसे ऐसा लग रहा था मानो वह आधे-खुले दरवाजे के उस पार किताबों को फुसफुसाते हुए सुन सकती है। वे उसे अनगिनत अनसुनी कहानियों का वादा दे रही थीं, ऐसी दुनिया के अनगिनत दरवाजों का जो उसने पहले कभी नहीं देखी थीं।

Her curiosity was too much for her. She felt almost as if she could hear the books whispering on the other side of the half-open door. They were promising her a thousand unknown stories, a thousand doors into worlds she had never seen before.

Her curiosity was too much for her. She felt almost as if she could hear the books whispering on the other side of the half-open door. They were promising her a thousand unknown stories, a thousand doors into worlds she had never seen before.

एक और वजह थी जिसकी वजह से [वह] जब भी बाहर जाती थीं, अपनी किताबें साथ ले जाती थीं। जब वह किसी अजनबी जगह पर होती थीं, तो ये किताबें ही उनका घर थीं। वे जानी-पहचानी आवाजें थीं, ऐसी दोस्त जो कभी उनसे झगड़ती नहीं थीं—समझदार, ताकतवर दोस्त—जो साहसी और ज्ञानी थीं, जो दूर-दूर तक यात्रा कर चुकी मंझी हुई और परखी हुई साहसी थीं। जब वह उदास होती थीं तो उनकी किताबें उनका मूड ठीक कर देती थीं और उन्हें बोर होने से बचाती थीं।

There was another reason [she] took her books whenever they went away. They were her home when she was somewhere strange. They were familiar voices, friends that never quarreled with her, clever, powerful friends -- daring and knowledgeable, tried and tested adventurers who had traveled far and wide. Her books cheered her up when she was sad and kept her from being bored.

There was another reason [she] took her books whenever they went away. They were her home when she was somewhere strange. They were familiar voices, friends that never quarreled with her, clever, powerful friends -- daring and knowledgeable, tried and tested adventurers who had traveled far and wide. Her books cheered her up when she was sad and kept her from being bored.

मो और मैगी के घर में किताबें मेजों के नीचे, कुर्सियों पर, कमरों के कोनों में ढेर लगाकर रखी थीं। रसोईघर में और गुसलखाने में भी किताबें थीं। टीवी के ऊपर और अलमारी में भी, किताबों के छोटे ढेर, किताबों के लंबे ढेर, मोटी और पतली किताबें, पुरानी और नई किताबें। खुले हुए पन्नों के साथ मुस्कुराती हुई किताबें मैगी का नाश्ते पर स्वागत करती थीं; खराब मौसम में वे बोरियत को फटकने नहीं देती थीं। और कभी-कभी तो आप उनसे टकराकर गिर भी जाते थे।

The books in Mo and Meggie's house were stacked under tables, on chairs, in the corners of the rooms. There where books in the kitchen and books in the lavatory. Books on the TV set and in the closet, small piles of books, tall piles of books, books thick and thin, books old and new. They welcomed Meggie down to breakfast with invitingly opened pages; they kept boredom at bay when the weather was bad. And sometimes you fall over them.

The books in Mo and Meggie's house were stacked under tables, on chairs, in the corners of the rooms. There where books in the kitchen and books in the lavatory. Books on the TV set and in the closet, small piles of books, tall piles of books, books thick and thin, books old and new. They welcomed Meggie down to breakfast with invitingly opened pages; they kept boredom at bay when the weather was bad. And sometimes you fall over them.

मो अपनी अकेली आवाज से खाली हवा में तस्वीरें उकेर सकता था।

Mo could paint pictures in the empty air with his voice alone.

Mo could paint pictures in the empty air with his voice alone.

रात ने उसे एक चोर लोमड़ी की तरह निगल लिया।

The night swallowed him up like a thieving fox.

The night swallowed him up like a thieving fox.

खूबसूरती और डर अच्छे साथी नहीं होते

Beauty and fear make uneasy companions

Beauty and fear make uneasy companions

उसने अपने हाथ उसके कंधों पर रखे और उसके होठों पर गहरा चुंबन दिया। उसकी त्वचा बारिश के पानी से भीगी हुई थी। जब उसने खुद को पीछे नहीं खींचा, तो उसने उसका चेहरा अपने हाथों में थाम लिया और फिर से उसे चूमा, उसकी माथे पर, उसकी नाक पर, और एक बार फिर उसके होठों पर। उसने फुसफुसा कर कहा, "तुम आओगी ना? वादा करो!"

He put his hands on her shoulders and kissed her full on the mouth. His skin was wet with rain. When she didn't pull away, he took her face between his hands and kissed her again, on her forehead, on her nose, on her mouth once more. "You will come, won't you? Promisse!" he whispered.

He put his hands on her shoulders and kissed her full on the mouth. His skin was wet with rain. When she didn't pull away, he took her face between his hands and kissed her again, on her forehead, on her nose, on her mouth once more. "You will come, won't you? Promisse!" he whispered.

उसने अपनी बाहें उसकी गर्दन के चारों ओर लपेट लीं, लेकिन तभी जब उसने देखा कि सिल्टंग की पीठ उसकी तरफ थी। पिताओं का कुछ भरोसा नहीं होता। उसने उसके कान में फुसफुसाया, "मैं उसे बचा लूँगा, मैगी! मैं डस्टफिंगर को वापस ले आऊँगा। इस कहानी का अंत सुखद होगा। मैं कसम खाता हूँ!"

He flung his arms around her neck, but only once he saw Silvertoungue's back was turned. He never knew with fathers. "I'll save him, Meggie!" he wispered in her ear. "I'll bring Dustfinger back. This story will have a happy ending.I swear!

He flung his arms around her neck, but only once he saw Silvertoungue's back was turned. He never knew with fathers. "I'll save him, Meggie!" he wispered in her ear. "I'll bring Dustfinger back. This story will have a happy ending.I swear!

डस्टफिंगर ने अपनी आँखें बंद कीं और सुनने लगा। वह वापस अपने घर आ गया था।

Dustfinger closed his eyes and listened. He was home again.

Dustfinger closed his eyes and listened. He was home again.

मैगी के किताबों के बक्से को घर से बाहर ले जाते हुए मो ने पूछा, "तुमने इसमें आखिर क्या भरा है? ईंटें?" मैगी ने जवाब दिया, "आप ही तो कहते हैं कि किताबें भारी होनी चाहिए क्योंकि उनके अंदर पूरी दुनिया समाई होती है।"

What on earth have you packed in here? Bricks?" asked Mo as he carried Meggie's book-box out of the house. You're the one who says books have to be heavy because the whole world's inside them," said Meggie.

What on earth have you packed in here? Bricks?" asked Mo as he carried Meggie's book-box out of the house. You're the one who says books have to be heavy because the whole world's inside them," said Meggie.

आप पूरी तरह से किसी किताब को तब तक नहीं पढ़ सकते जब तक कि आप अकेले न हों। लेकिन इसी अकेलेपन के जरिए आप अनजाने में ही ऐसे लोगों से गहराई से जुड़ जाते हैं जिन्हें शायद आप कभी न मिले हों, या तो इसलिए कि वे सदियों पहले मर चुके हैं या फिर इसलिए कि वे ऐसी भाषाएँ बोलते थे जिन्हें आप समझ नहीं सकते। और फिर भी, वे आपके सबसे करीबी दोस्त, आपके सबसे समझदार सलाहकार, आपको सम्मोहित करने वाले जादूगर, और आपके सपनों के हमसफर बन जाते हैं। - एंटोनियो मुनोज़ मोलिना, "द पावर ऑफ द पेन"

you can not fully read a book without being alone. But through this very solitude you become intimately involved with people whom you might never have met otherwise, either because they have been dead for centuries or because they spoke languages you cannot understand. And, nonetheless, they have become your closest friends, your wisest advisors, the wizards that hypnotize you, the lovers you have always dreamed of. -Antonio munoz molinas, "the power of the pen

you can not fully read a book without being alone. But through this very solitude you become intimately involved with people whom you might never have met otherwise, either because they have been dead for centuries or because they spoke languages you cannot understand. And, nonetheless, they have become your closest friends, your wisest advisors, the wizards that hypnotize you, the lovers you have always dreamed of. -Antonio munoz molinas, "the power of the pen

मेरी बात मानिए। कभी-कभी जब जिंदगी सबसे ज्यादा भयानक लगती है, तो चीजों की तह में कोई रोशनी छिपी होती है। - क्लाइव बार्कर, अबारात

believe me. Sometimes when life looks to be at its grimmest, there's a light hidden at the heart of things. Clive Barker, Abarat

believe me. Sometimes when life looks to be at its grimmest, there's a light hidden at the heart of things. Clive Barker, Abarat

उसने कहा, 'सारी दुनियाएँ क्रूर हैं। जिस दुनिया से मैं आता हूँ, जिस दुनिया से तुम आती हो, और यह वाली भी। हो सकता है कि तुम्हारी दुनिया के लोग वहाँ की क्रूरता को तुरंत न देख पाएँ, वह ज्यादा अच्छे से छुपी होती है, लेकिन होती वह भी वहीं है।'

They're all cruel,' he said. 'The world I come from, the world you come from, and this one, too. Maybe the people don't see the cruelty in your world right away, it's better hidden, but it's there all the same.

They're all cruel,' he said. 'The world I come from, the world you come from, and this one, too. Maybe the people don't see the cruelty in your world right away, it's better hidden, but it's there all the same.

तुम कौन हो?' मो ने श्वेत स्त्रियों की ओर देखा। फिर उसने डस्टफिंगर के शांत चेहरे को देखा। 'अंदाजा लगाओ।' उस पक्षी ने अपने सुनहरे पंख फड़फड़ाए, और मो ने देखा कि उसकी छाती पर लगा निशान खून का था। 'तुम मौत हो।' मो को वह शब्द अपनी जुबान पर भारी लगा। क्या कोई भी शब्द इससे ज्यादा भारी हो सकता है?

Who are you?' Mo looked at the White Women. Then he looked at Dustfinger's still face. Guess.' The bird ruffled up its golden feathers, and Mo saw that the mark on its breast was blood. You are Death.' Mo felt the word heavy on his tongue. Could any word be heavier?

Who are you?' Mo looked at the White Women. Then he looked at Dustfinger's still face. Guess.' The bird ruffled up its golden feathers, and Mo saw that the mark on its breast was blood. You are Death.' Mo felt the word heavy on his tongue. Could any word be heavier?

शायद ही ऐसा कोई इंसान होगा जिसके चेहरे पर किसी औरत के लिए प्यार चाकू से उकेरा गया हो।

There could be few men whose love for a woman had been written on his face with a knife.

There could be few men whose love for a woman had been written on his face with a knife.

कभी-कभी यह अच्छी बात होती है कि हमें चीजें उतनी अच्छी तरह याद नहीं रहतीं जितनी किताबें को।

Sometimes it's a good thing we don't remember things half as well as books do.

Sometimes it's a good thing we don't remember things half as well as books do.

क्योंकि अब तक एलिनॉर यह बात भी समझ चुकी थी: इंसानों के लिए जो आप महसूस कर सकते हैं, उसके मुकाबले किताबों की तड़प कुछ भी नहीं थी। किताबें आपको उस अहसास के बारे में बताती थीं। किताबें प्यार के बारे में बात करती थीं, और उन्हें सुनना बहुत अच्छा लगता था, लेकिन वे प्यार खुद का कोई विकल्प नहीं थीं। वे उसे मैगी की तरह चूम नहीं सकती थीं, वे उसे रेसा की तरह गले नहीं लगा सकती थीं, वे मोर्टिमर की तरह हँस नहीं सकती थीं। बेचारी किताबें, बेचारी एलिनॉर।

Because by now Elinor had understood this, too: A longing for books was nothing compared with what you could feel for human beings. The books told you about that feeling. The books spoke of love, and it was wonderful to listen to them, but they were no substitute for love itself. They couldn't kiss her like Meggie, they couldn't hug her like Resa, they couldn't laugh like Mortimer. Poor books, poor Elinor.

Because by now Elinor had understood this, too: A longing for books was nothing compared with what you could feel for human beings. The books told you about that feeling. The books spoke of love, and it was wonderful to listen to them, but they were no substitute for love itself. They couldn't kiss her like Meggie, they couldn't hug her like Resa, they couldn't laugh like Mortimer. Poor books, poor Elinor.

क्या आखिरकार सभी किताबें एक-दूसरे से जुड़ी हुई नहीं होतीं? आखिरकार, वे एक ही जैसे अक्षरों से भरी होती हैं, बस वे अलग क्रम में व्यवस्थित होते हैं। जिसका मतलब यह हुआ कि, एक निश्चित तरीके से, हर किताब में बाकी सारी किताबें समाई हुई हैं!

Weren’t all books ultimately related? After all, the same letters filled them, just arranged in a different order. Which meant that, in a certain way, every book was contained in every other!

Weren’t all books ultimately related? After all, the same letters filled them, just arranged in a different order. Which meant that, in a certain way, every book was contained in every other!

कानों ने यह समझने में कितनी जल्दी सीख लिया कि आवाज़ों का क्या मतलब था, आँखों द्वारा लिखित शब्दों को डिकोड करने में लगने वाले समय से कहीं अधिक तेज़ी से।

How fast the ears learned to tell what sounds meant, much faster than it took the eyes to decipher written words.

How fast the ears learned to tell what sounds meant, much faster than it took the eyes to decipher written words.

शायद मुद्रित कहानी के पीछे एक और, बहुत बड़ी कहानी छिपी है, एक ऐसी कहानी जो हमारी अपनी दुनिया की तरह ही बदलती रहती है। और पन्ने पर लिखे अक्षर हमें सिर्फ उतना ही बताते हैं जितना हम चाबी के छेद से झाँककर देख पाते हैं। शायद किताब के अंदर की कहानी किसी पतीले के ढक्कन जैसी होती है: वह हमेशा वैसी ही रहती है, लेकिन उसके नीचे पूरी एक ऐसी दुनिया चलती रहती है जो हमारी अपनी दुनिया की तरह विकसित और बदल रही होती है।

Perhaps there's another, much larger story behind the printed one, a story that changes just as our own world does. And the letters on the page tell us only as much as we'd see peering through a keyhole. Perhaps the story in the book is just the lid on a pan: It always stays the same, but underneath there's a whole world that goes on - developing and changing like our own world.

Perhaps there's another, much larger story behind the printed one, a story that changes just as our own world does. And the letters on the page tell us only as much as we'd see peering through a keyhole. Perhaps the story in the book is just the lid on a pan: It always stays the same, but underneath there's a whole world that goes on - developing and changing like our own world.

मीनार के कंगूरे से, डस्टफिंगर ने रात जितने काले पानी वाली झील की तरफ नीचे देखा, जहाँ तारों के समुद्र में महल का अक्स तैर रहा था। उसके बिना किसी निशान वाले चेहरे पर बहती हवा आसपास के पहाड़ों की बर्फ से ठंडी थी, और डस्टफिंगर जिंदगी का लुत्फ ऐसे उठा रहा था मानो वह उसे पहली बार चख रहा हो। उससे मिलने वाली तड़प, और चाहत। सारी कड़वाहट, सारी मिठास, भले ही कुछ वक्त के लिए ही सही, कभी भी उस वक्त से ज्यादा नहीं, सब कुछ पाया और खोया हुआ, और फिर से खोया और पाया हुआ।

From the tower battlements, Dustfinger looked down on a lake as black as night, where the reflection of the castle swam in a sea of stars. The wind passing over his unscarred face was cold from the snow of the surrounding mountains, and Dustfinger relished life as if he were tasting it for the first time. The longing it brought, and the desire. All the bitterness, all the sweetness, even if it was only for a while, never for more than a while, everything gained and lost, lost and found again.

From the tower battlements, Dustfinger looked down on a lake as black as night, where the reflection of the castle swam in a sea of stars. The wind passing over his unscarred face was cold from the snow of the surrounding mountains, and Dustfinger relished life as if he were tasting it for the first time. The longing it brought, and the desire. All the bitterness, all the sweetness, even if it was only for a while, never for more than a while, everything gained and lost, lost and found again.

मुझे लगता है कि हमें कभी-कभी ऐसी कहानियाँ पढ़नी चाहिए जहाँ सब कुछ हमारी दुनिया से अलग हो, क्या आप सहमत नहीं हैं? यह जानने के लिए कि पेड़ लाल क्यों नहीं बल्कि हरे क्यों होते हैं, और हमारे छह के बजाय पाँच उँगलियाँ क्यों हैं, इससे बेहतर और कोई तरीका नहीं है।' - द ब्लूजे, उर्फ ​​बुकबाइंडिंग करने वाले मो द्वारा बोली गई बात, 'इंकडेथ' से

I think we should sometimes read stories where everything's different from our world, don't you agree? There's nothing's like it for teaching us to wonder why trees are green and not red, and why we have five fingers rather than six.' --spoken by The Bluejay, aka Mo the Bookbinder, from 'Inkdeath

I think we should sometimes read stories where everything's different from our world, don't you agree? There's nothing's like it for teaching us to wonder why trees are green and not red, and why we have five fingers rather than six.' --spoken by The Bluejay, aka Mo the Bookbinder, from 'Inkdeath

मैं छपे हुए पन्नों के बीच एक हजार जिंदगियाँ जीने की कसम खाता हूँ। मैं किताबों को दूसरे मन तक पहुँचने के दरवाजे के रूप में इस्तेमाल करने की कसम खाता हूँ, चाहे वे बूढ़े हों या जवान, लड़की हो या लड़का, आदमी हो या जानवर। मैं किताबों का इस्तेमाल एक हजार अलग-अलग दुनियाओं और अपनी ही दुनिया के एक हजार अलग-अलग चेहरों के लिए खिड़कियाँ खोलने के वास्ते करने की कसम खाता हूँ। मैं अपनी इस दुनिया को उस दुनिया से कहीं ज्यादा बड़ा बनाने के लिए किताबों का इस्तेमाल करने की कसम खाता हूँ जिसमें मैं रोज जीता हूँ। मैं अपनी किताबों के साथ दोस्तों जैसा बर्ताव करने, समय-समय पर उन सभी के पास जाने और उन्हें अपने करीब रखने की कसम खाता हूँ।

I pledge to set out to live a thousand lives between printed pages. I pledge to use books as doors to other minds, old and young, girl and boy, man and animal. I pledge to use books to open windows to a thousand different worlds and to the thousand different faces of my own world. I pledge to use books to make my universe spread much wider than the world I live in every day. I pledge to treat my books like friends, visiting them all from time to time and keeping them close.

I pledge to set out to live a thousand lives between printed pages. I pledge to use books as doors to other minds, old and young, girl and boy, man and animal. I pledge to use books to open windows to a thousand different worlds and to the thousand different faces of my own world. I pledge to use books to make my universe spread much wider than the world I live in every day. I pledge to treat my books like friends, visiting them all from time to time and keeping them close.

जब आपकी यह दुनिया आपके टेलीफोन, आपकी बंदूकों और उस चिपचिपी चीज़—जिसे क्या कहते हैं... डक्ट टेप—के साथ इतनी सुगम है, तो हम भला वापस क्यों जाना चाहेंगे?

Why would we ever want to go back when your world is so accommodating with your telephones and your guns and what's that sticky stuff called ...duct tape.

Why would we ever want to go back when your world is so accommodating with your telephones and your guns and what's that sticky stuff called ...duct tape.

वहाँ नीचे रातें रोशन होती हैं और कोई भी शैतान में यकीन नहीं रखता।

Down there the nights are bright and nobody believes in the Devil.

Down there the nights are bright and nobody believes in the Devil.

कैप्रिकॉर्न को देखते ही उसे डरे-सहमे लोगों की कहानियों के अलावा कुछ और क्यों नहीं याद आता था? वैसे तो उसके लिए किसी और दुनिया में खो जाना, कागज़ पर रचे-बसे इंसानों और जानवरों के मन की थाह पाना बहुत आसान था, तो फिर अब क्यों नहीं? क्योंकि वह डर गई थी। मो ने एक बार उससे कहा था, "क्योंकि डर हर चीज़ को खत्म कर देता है—तुम्हारी समझ, तुम्हारा दिल, तुम्हारी कल्पना।"

Why could she remember nothing but stories of frightened people when Capricorn looked at her? She usually found it so easy to escape somewhere else, to get right inside the minds of people and animals who existed only on paper, so why not now? Because she was afraid. "Because fear kills everything," Mo had once told her. "Your mind, your heart, your imagination.

Why could she remember nothing but stories of frightened people when Capricorn looked at her? She usually found it so easy to escape somewhere else, to get right inside the minds of people and animals who existed only on paper, so why not now? Because she was afraid. "Because fear kills everything," Mo had once told her. "Your mind, your heart, your imagination.

क्या किताबों में भी यही नहीं लिखा होता कि खुशी की एक कीमत चुकानी ही पड़ती है?

Didn't books say that too: that there is always price to pay for happiness?

Didn't books say that too: that there is always price to pay for happiness?

छोटा हो जाने के बाद अब अपनी खचाखच भरी दुकान में इधर-उधर आना-जाना उसके लिए काफी आसान हो गया था, लेकिन फिर भी वह पहले की तरह अलमारियों के बीच अकड़कर चलने की कोशिश करता था। उसकी यह कोशिश इतनी अजीब लगती थी कि सिपियो उसकी पीठ पीछे उसकी नकल करने लगा। जब प्रॉस्पर और रेंजो खुलकर हंस पड़े, तो बारबोसा ने पूछा, "ये मूर्खतापूर्ण हंसी किस बात पर है?"

It was much easier for him now that he was smaller to negotiate his way through his crammed shop but he still tried to swagger past the shelves like he used to in the past. The attempt looked so strange that Scipio started to mimic him behind his back. "What's the silly giggling about?" Barbarossa asked when Prosper and Renzo bust out laughing.

It was much easier for him now that he was smaller to negotiate his way through his crammed shop but he still tried to swagger past the shelves like he used to in the past. The attempt looked so strange that Scipio started to mimic him behind his back. "What's the silly giggling about?" Barbarossa asked when Prosper and Renzo bust out laughing.

लेखन के बारे में तुम्हें कखग भी नहीं पता... एक तो यह कि सुबह-सुबह का समय इसके लिए सबसे खराब होता है। उस वक्त दिमाग एक गीले स्पंज की तरह होता है। और दूसरी बात, असली लिखना तो बस शून्यता में ताकते रहने और सही विचारों के इंतज़ार का नाम है।

You really don't understand the first thing about writing...for one thing, early in the morning is the worst possible time. the brain is like a wet sponge at that hour. And for another, real writing is a question of staring into space and waiting for the right ideas.

You really don't understand the first thing about writing...for one thing, early in the morning is the worst possible time. the brain is like a wet sponge at that hour. And for another, real writing is a question of staring into space and waiting for the right ideas.

छपे हुए कागज़ों की सरसराहट से ज़्यादा तेज़ी से कोई चीज़ डरावने सपनों को नहीं भगाती थी।

Nothing chased nightmares away faster than the rustle of printed paper.

Nothing chased nightmares away faster than the rustle of printed paper.

उसे बस एक दरवाज़ा खोलना था, शब्दों के बीच बना महज़ एक ऐसा दरवाज़ा, जो इतना बड़ा हो कि वह और फरीद उससे गुजर सकें।

She had only to open a door, nothing but a door between the words,just large enough for her and Farid to pass through.

She had only to open a door, nothing but a door between the words,just large enough for her and Farid to pass through.

मो ने कहा, "मारना आसान है, मरना ज़्यादा मुश्किल है।"

Killing is easy," said Mo, "Dying is harder.

Killing is easy," said Mo, "Dying is harder.

पढ़ो और जिज्ञासु बनो। और अगर कोई तुमसे कहे कि 'चीजें ऐसी ही हैं। तुम इन्हें बदल नहीं सकते'—तो उसकी एक बात पर भी यकीन मत करो।

Read – and be curious. And if somebody says to you: 'Things are this way. You can't change it' - don't believe a word.

Read – and be curious. And if somebody says to you: 'Things are this way. You can't change it' - don't believe a word.

रात के वक्त हर कोई छोटा पड़ जाता है।

Everyone is small at night.

Everyone is small at night.

बोले गए शब्दों का कोई वजूद नहीं होता। वे एक कीड़े से ज़्यादा दिन नहीं जीते! केवल लिखा गया शब्द ही अमर है। - बाल्बुलस

The spoken word is nothing. It hardly lives longer than an insect! Only the written word is eternal. - Balbulus

The spoken word is nothing. It hardly lives longer than an insect! Only the written word is eternal. - Balbulus

डस्टफिंगर ने अपनी लाल पड़ी उंगलियों को देखा और अपनी कसी हुई त्वचा को महसूस किया। उसने फुसफुसाते हुए कहा, "शायद वह मुझे बता सके कि मेरी कहानी का अंत क्या होगा।" मेगी ने हैरानी से उसकी तरफ देखा। "तुम्हारा मतलब है तुम्हें नहीं पता?" डस्टफिंगर मुस्कुराया। मेगी को उसकी वह मुस्कान तब भी कुछ खास पसंद नहीं आई। ऐसा लगता था कि वह मुस्कान बस किसी और चीज़ को छिपाने के लिए आती है। उसने आहिस्ता से पूछा, "प्रिंसेस, इसमें इतनी अजीब बात क्या है? क्या तुम्हें पता है कि तुम्हारी कहानी का अंत क्या होगा?" मेगी के पास इस बात का कोई जवाब नहीं था।

Dustfinger inspected his reddened fingers and felt the taut skin. ‘He might tell me how my story ends,’ he murmured. Meggie looked at him in astonishment. ‘You mean you don’t know?’ Dustfinger smiled. Meggie still didn’t particularly like his smile. It seemed to appear only to hide something else. ‘What’s so unusual about that, princess?’ he asked quietly. ‘Do you know how your story ends?’ Meggie had no answer for that.

Dustfinger inspected his reddened fingers and felt the taut skin. ‘He might tell me how my story ends,’ he murmured. Meggie looked at him in astonishment. ‘You mean you don’t know?’ Dustfinger smiled. Meggie still didn’t particularly like his smile. It seemed to appear only to hide something else. ‘What’s so unusual about that, princess?’ he asked quietly. ‘Do you know how your story ends?’ Meggie had no answer for that.

तो मो ने अपनी आवाज़ से उस खामोश माहौल को भरना शुरू कर दिया। उसने शब्दों को पन्नों से ऐसे बाहर खींच लिया मानो वे बस उसकी आवाज़ का इंतज़ार कर रहे हों—लंबे और छोटे शब्द, तीखे और कोमल शब्द, फुसफुसाते और गुर्राते हुए शब्द। वे कमरे में थिरकने लगे, रंगीन काँच की तस्वीरें उकेरने लगे, त्वचा पर सिहरन पैदा करने लगे। यहाँ तक कि जब मेगी को नींद की झपकी आ गई, तब भी उसे वे शब्द सुनाई दे रहे थे, भले ही मो ने किताब बहुत पहले बंद कर दी थी। ऐसे शब्द जो उसे इस दुनिया को समझा रहे थे, इसके अंधेरे और उजाले दोनों पक्षों को, ऐसे शब्द जो बुरे सपनों को रोकने के लिए एक दीवार खड़ी कर रहे थे। और बाकी की पूरी रात उस दीवार को पार करके एक भी बुरा सपना उसके पास नहीं आया।

So Mo began filling the silence with words. He lured them out of the pages as if they had only been waiting for his voice, words long and short, words sharp and soft, cooing, purring words. They danced through the room, painting stained glass pictures, tickling the skin. Even when Meggie nodded off she could still hear them, although Mo had closed the book long ago. Words that explained the world to her, its dark side and its light side, words that built a wall to keep out bad dreams. And not a single bad dream came over that wall for the rest of the night.

So Mo began filling the silence with words. He lured them out of the pages as if they had only been waiting for his voice, words long and short, words sharp and soft, cooing, purring words. They danced through the room, painting stained glass pictures, tickling the skin. Even when Meggie nodded off she could still hear them, although Mo had closed the book long ago. Words that explained the world to her, its dark side and its light side, words that built a wall to keep out bad dreams. And not a single bad dream came over that wall for the rest of the night.

कभी-कभी, जब आप उदास होते हैं और समझ नहीं पाते कि क्या करें, तो गुस्सा होना मददगार साबित होता है। लेकिन फिर आँसू लौटकर आ ही जाते हैं, और आप अपने होंठों पर उनके नमकीन स्वाद के साथ सो जाते हैं।

Sometimes, when you’re sad you don’t know what to do, it helps to be angry. But then the tears come back again all the same, and you fall asleep with the salty taste of them on your lips.

Sometimes, when you’re sad you don’t know what to do, it helps to be angry. But then the tears come back again all the same, and you fall asleep with the salty taste of them on your lips.

छिपने के मामले में तो ग्विन को भी डस्टफिंगर को सिखाने के लिए कुछ नहीं आता था। जिज्ञासा की एक अजीब भावना ने हमेशा उसे इस और किसी भी दूसरी जगह के छिपे हुए, भूले-बिसरे कोनों को टटोलने के लिए प्रेरित किया था, और वह सारा अनुभव अब उसके काम आ रहा था।

When it came to hiding, even Gwin had nothing to teach Dustfinger. A strange sense of curiosity had always driven him to explore the hidden, forgotten corners of this and any other place, and all that knowledge had now come in useful.

When it came to hiding, even Gwin had nothing to teach Dustfinger. A strange sense of curiosity had always driven him to explore the hidden, forgotten corners of this and any other place, and all that knowledge had now come in useful.

रात किसी काले जानवर की तरह उस अपार्टमेंट में साँस ले रही थी। घड़ी की टिक-टिक। जब वह अपने कमरे से बाहर निकला, तो फर्श के तख्ते की चरचराहट। उसकी खामोश आगोश में सब कुछ जैसे थम गया था। लेकिन जैकब को रात से प्यार था। उसने इसे अपनी त्वचा पर एक वादे की तरह महसूस किया—आज़ादी और खतरे से बुने हुए एक लबादे की तरह।

The night breathed through the apartment like a dark animal. The ticking of a clock. The groan of a floorboard as he slipped out of his room. All was drowned by its silence. But Jacob loved the night. He felt it on his skin like a promise. Like a cloak woven from freedom and danger.

The night breathed through the apartment like a dark animal. The ticking of a clock. The groan of a floorboard as he slipped out of his room. All was drowned by its silence. But Jacob loved the night. He felt it on his skin like a promise. Like a cloak woven from freedom and danger.

डस्टफिंगर ने अक्सर उससे कहा था, 'बोल न पाने की बात को लेकर परेशान मत होओ—वैसे भी लोग अमूमन सुनते कहाँ हैं, है ना?'

Don't let it worry you, not being able to speak,'Dustfinger had often told her. 'People tend not to listen anyway, right?

Don't let it worry you, not being able to speak,'Dustfinger had often told her. 'People tend not to listen anyway, right?

क्या बात है प्रिंसेस? क्या तुम्हें अपनी कहानी का अंत पता है?

What's the matter princess? Do you know the end of your story?

What's the matter princess? Do you know the end of your story?

जिस तंबू में वह पहली बार उससे मिली थी, उसमें खून की महक थी, उस मौत की महक जिसे वह समझ नहीं पाई थी, और फिर भी वह उन सब को एक खेल समझती थी। उसने उसे पूरी दुनिया देने का वादा किया था। उसके दुश्मनों के जिस्म में उसका मांस। और बहुत देर से उसे यह बात समझ आई कि उसने उसके अंदर क्या बो दिया था—प्यार। सभी ज़हरों में सबसे बुरा ज़हर।

The tent in which she first met him had smelled of blood, of the death she did not understand, and still she had thought of it all as a game. She had promised him the world. His flesh in the flesh of his enemies. And much too late had she realized what he had sown in her. Love. Worst of all poisons.

The tent in which she first met him had smelled of blood, of the death she did not understand, and still she had thought of it all as a game. She had promised him the world. His flesh in the flesh of his enemies. And much too late had she realized what he had sown in her. Love. Worst of all poisons.

जब परी मुड़ी तो उसकी पोशाक सरसराई। इंसानों की औरतें फूलों की तरह कपड़े पहनती हैं—एक नश्वर, सड़ती हुई कोर के इर्द-गिर्द पंखुड़ियों की परतें।

The Fairy's dress rustled as she turned. Human women dressed like flowers, layers of petals around a mortal, rotting core.

The Fairy's dress rustled as she turned. Human women dressed like flowers, layers of petals around a mortal, rotting core.

परेशानियों से दूर ले जाने वाले दस पन्नों के बदले एक तमाचा क्या मायने रखता है, ऐसे दस पन्ने जो उसे हर उस चीज़ से दूर ले जाएं जो उसे नाखुश करती है, रोज़मर्रा की उस ऊब के बजाय असली ज़िंदगी के दस पन्ने जिसे बाकी लोग असली दुनिया कहते हैं?

What was a slap for ten pages of escapism, ten pages far from everything that made him unhappy, ten pages of real life instead of the monotony that other people called the real world?

What was a slap for ten pages of escapism, ten pages far from everything that made him unhappy, ten pages of real life instead of the monotony that other people called the real world?

प्यार भी कितनी बड़ी बला है!

What a plague love is!

What a plague love is!

हकीकत एक कमज़ोर चीज़ है।

Reality is a fragile thing.

Reality is a fragile thing.

कोई भी सिर्फ एक बार प्यार नहीं करता।

Nobody loves only once.

Nobody loves only once.

यह प्यार कहाँ से आया था? यह किस चीज़ से बना हुआ था?

Where did the love come from? What was it made of?

Where did the love come from? What was it made of?

न तो गोल और न ही इंसान इतने लंबे समय तक जीते हैं कि यह समझ सकें कि कल का जन्म आने वाले कल से हुआ है, ठीक वैसे ही जैसे आने वाले कल का जन्म बीते हुए कल से हुआ है।

Neither Goyl nor men lived long enough to understand that yesterday was born of tomorrow, just as tomorrow was born of yesterday.

Neither Goyl nor men lived long enough to understand that yesterday was born of tomorrow, just as tomorrow was born of yesterday.

मुझे दुनिया को दूसरों की जुबानी जानना बेहद पसंद है। यह ज़्यादा सुरक्षित है।

I'm perfectly happy to know the world at secondhand. It's a lot safer.

I'm perfectly happy to know the world at secondhand. It's a lot safer.

यादें—कितनी मीठी और कड़वी... उन्होंने इतने सालों तक उसे पाला भी था और अंदर ही अंदर कुतर डाला भी था। यहाँ तक कि एक वक्त ऐसा आया जब वे फीकी पड़ने लगीं, धुंधली और अस्पष्ट होने लगीं, और बस एक ऐसा दर्द बनकर रह गईं जिसे झटपट दूर भगाना पड़ता था क्योंकि वह सीधे दिल पर जाकर लगता था। भला उन सब चीज़ों को याद रखने का क्या फायदा जो तुम खो चुके हो?

Memories, so sweet and bitter.. they had both nourished and devoured him for so many years. Until a time came when they began to fade, turning faint and blurred, only an ache to be quickly pushed away because it went to your heart. For what was the use of remembering all you had lost?

Memories, so sweet and bitter.. they had both nourished and devoured him for so many years. Until a time came when they began to fade, turning faint and blurred, only an ache to be quickly pushed away because it went to your heart. For what was the use of remembering all you had lost?

क्या दुनिया में पन्नों पर लिखे शब्दों से बेहतर कुछ और है? जादुई निशान, मरे हुओं की आवाज़ें, इस दुनिया से बेहतर खूबसूरत दुनियाएँ बनाने के ईंट-गारे, ढांढस बंधाने वाले, तन्हाई के साथी। राज़ों के रखवाले, सच बयां करने वाले... वे तमाम शानदार शब्द।

Is there anything in the world better than words on the page? Magic signs, the voices of the dead, building blocks to make wonderful worlds better than this one, comforters, companions in loneliness. Keepers of secrets, speakers of the truth...all those glorious words.

Is there anything in the world better than words on the page? Magic signs, the voices of the dead, building blocks to make wonderful worlds better than this one, comforters, companions in loneliness. Keepers of secrets, speakers of the truth...all those glorious words.

कहानियाँ कभी वाकई खत्म नहीं होतीं... भले ही किताबें ऐसा दिखावा करना पसंद करती हों। कहानियाँ हमेशा चलती रहती हैं। वे न तो आखिरी पन्ने पर खत्म होती हैं, और न ही पहले पन्ने पर शुरू।

Stories never really end...even if the books like to pretend they do. Stories always go on. They don't end on the last page, any more than they begin on the first page.

Stories never really end...even if the books like to pretend they do. Stories always go on. They don't end on the last page, any more than they begin on the first page.

यह दुनिया बेहद भयानक, क्रूर, बेरहम और बुरे सपने जैसी अंधेरी थी। जीने के लिए यह कोई अच्छी जगह नहीं थी। सिर्फ किताबों में ही आपको करुणा, सांत्वना, ख़ुशी और प्यार मिल सकता था। किताबें उन हर इंसान से प्यार करती थीं जो उन्हें खोलता था; वे आपको सुरक्षा और दोस्ती देती थीं और बदले में कुछ नहीं मांगती थीं; वे कभी दूर नहीं जाती थीं, कभी नहीं, तब भी नहीं जब आप उनके साथ बुरा बर्ताव करते थे।

The world was a terrible place, cruel, pitiless, dark as a bad dream. Not a good place to live. Only in books could you find pity, comfort, happiness - and love. Books loved anyone who opened them, they gave you security and friendship and didn't ask anything in return; they never went away, never, not even when you treated them badly.

The world was a terrible place, cruel, pitiless, dark as a bad dream. Not a good place to live. Only in books could you find pity, comfort, happiness - and love. Books loved anyone who opened them, they gave you security and friendship and didn't ask anything in return; they never went away, never, not even when you treated them badly.

पाठक किसी कहानी के किरदारों को सिर्फ देखता नहीं है; वह उन्हें महसूस करता है।

A reader doesn't really see the characters in a story; he feels them.

A reader doesn't really see the characters in a story; he feels them.

किताबों को भारी होना ही पड़ता है क्योंकि उनके अंदर पूरी दुनिया समाई होती है

Books have to be heavy because the whole world's inside them.

Books have to be heavy because the whole world's inside them.

अनजान डर से ज्यादा डरावनी कोई और चीज़ नहीं होती।

Nothing is more frightening than a fear you cannot name.

Nothing is more frightening than a fear you cannot name.

मेरा मानना है कि लाइब्रेरी की किताब एक खुशहाल किताब होती है।

A library book, I imagine, is a happy book.

A library book, I imagine, is a happy book.

उम्मीद। इससे ज़्यादा नशीला कुछ नहीं है।

Hope. Nothing is more intoxicating.

Hope. Nothing is more intoxicating.

एक किताब हमेशा अपने पन्नों के बीच अपने मालिक की कोई न कोई निशानी संभाल कर रखती है।

a book always keeps something of its owner between its pages.

a book always keeps something of its owner between its pages.

हम में से किसने यह महसूस नहीं किया है कि पन्नों पर पढ़ा जाने वाला किरदार हमारे पास खड़े इंसान से कहीं ज़्यादा असली लगता है?

Which of us has not felt that the character we are reading in the printed page is more real than the person standing beside us?

Which of us has not felt that the character we are reading in the printed page is more real than the person standing beside us?

किताब खोलते हुए उसने फुसफुसा कर कहा, "प्लीज, मुझे यहाँ से बस एक-दो घंटे के लिए बाहर ले चलो, मुझे बहुत-बहुत दूर ले चलो।"

Please," she whispered as she opened the book, "please get me out of here just for an hour or so, please take me far, far away

Please," she whispered as she opened the book, "please get me out of here just for an hour or so, please take me far, far away

समुद्र उसे हमेशा एक अजनबी सी कसक से भर देता था, हालाँकि उसे खुद नहीं पता था कि वह किस चीज़ की तलाश में थी।

The sea always filled her with longing, though for what she was never sure.

The sea always filled her with longing, though for what she was never sure.

बच्चे इल्लियों की तरह होते हैं और बड़े तितलियों की तरह। कोई भी तितली कभी याद नहीं रखती कि इल्ली होना कैसा महसूस होता था।

Children are caterpillars and adults are butterflies. No butterfly ever remembers what it felt like being a caterpillar.

Children are caterpillars and adults are butterflies. No butterfly ever remembers what it felt like being a caterpillar.

मो ने कहा था, "है न अजीब बात कि जब आप किसी किताब को कई बार पढ़ लेते हैं, तो वह कितनी मोटी हो जाती है? जैसे हर बार पढ़ने पर कुछ न कुछ पन्नों के बीच ही छूट जाता हो। भावनाएं, विचार, आवाजें, खुशबू... और फिर, कई साल बाद जब आप उस किताब को दोबारा देखते हैं, तो आप खुद को भी वहीं पाते हैं, खुद का एक थोड़ा छोटा रूप, थोड़ा अलग, मानो किताब ने किसी सूखे फूल की तरह आपको संभाल कर रख लिया हो... जो अजीब भी है और जाना-पहचाना भी।"

Isn't it odd how much fatter a book gets when you've read it several times?" Mo had said..."As if something were left between the pages every time you read it. Feelings, thoughts, sounds, smells...and then, when you look at the book again many years later, you find yourself there, too, a slightly younger self, slightly different, as if the book had preserved you like a pressed flower...both strange and familiar.

Isn't it odd how much fatter a book gets when you've read it several times?" Mo had said..."As if something were left between the pages every time you read it. Feelings, thoughts, sounds, smells...and then, when you look at the book again many years later, you find yourself there, too, a slightly younger self, slightly different, as if the book had preserved you like a pressed flower...both strange and familiar.

वह सचमुच किताबों की कीड़ा है। मुझे लगता है उसका गुज़ारा सिर्फ छपे हुए अक्षरों पर ही चलता है। उसका पूरा घर किताबों से भरा पड़ा है—देखकर ऐसा लगता है जैसे उसे इंसानों की संगति से ज़्यादा किताबें पसंद हैं।

She is a real bookworm. I think she lives on print. Her whole house is full of books - looks as if she likes them better than human company.

She is a real bookworm. I think she lives on print. Her whole house is full of books - looks as if she likes them better than human company.

उसने अपना हाथ अपने सीने पर रखा। दिल तो था ही नहीं। तो फिर उसे जो प्यार महसूस हो रहा था, वह कहाँ से आया था?

She pressed her hand against her chest. No heart. So where did the love she felt come from?

She pressed her hand against her chest. No heart. So where did the love she felt come from?

जब मो ने पहला बक्सा उसके हवाले किया था, तो उसने कहा था, "अगर तुम सफर में अपने साथ कोई किताब ले जाती हो, तो एक अजीब बात होती है: वह किताब तुम्हारी यादें समेटने लगती है। और उसके बाद जिंदगी भर तुम्हें बस उस किताब को खोलना होता है और तुम वहीं पहुँच जाती हो जहाँ तुमने उसे पहली बार पढ़ा था। पहले ही शब्द के साथ सब कुछ तुम्हारे दिमाग में ताज़ा हो जाता है: उस जगह के नज़ारे, वहाँ की खुशबू, वह आइसक्रीम जो तुम उसे पढ़ते हुए खा रही थी... हाँ, किताबें फ्लाईपेपर की तरह होती हैं—यादें छपे हुए पन्नों से ऐसी चिपकती हैं कि किसी और चीज़ से नहीं।"

If you take a book with you on a journey," Mo had said when he put the first one in her box, "an odd thing happens: The book begins collecting your memories. And forever after you have only to open that book to be back where you first read it. It will all come into your mind with the very first words: the sights you saw in that place, what it smelled like, the ice cream you ate while you were reading it... yes, books are like flypaper—memories cling to the printed page better than anything else.

If you take a book with you on a journey," Mo had said when he put the first one in her box, "an odd thing happens: The book begins collecting your memories. And forever after you have only to open that book to be back where you first read it. It will all come into your mind with the very first words: the sights you saw in that place, what it smelled like, the ice cream you ate while you were reading it... yes, books are like flypaper—memories cling to the printed page better than anything else.

बच्चे, वे हर जगह एक जैसे होते हैं। लालची छोटे जीव लेकिन इस दुनिया—या किसी भी दुनिया—के सबसे बेहतरीन श्रोता। सचमुच सबसे बेहतरीन।

Children, they're the same everywhere. Greedy little creatures but the best listeners in the world - any world. The very best of all.

Children, they're the same everywhere. Greedy little creatures but the best listeners in the world - any world. The very best of all.

बड़े लोगों को क्यों लगता है कि बच्चों के लिए सच से ज़्यादा राज़ संभालना आसान होता है? क्या वे नहीं जानते कि हम उन राज़ों को समझने के लिए कैसे-कैसे डरावने किस्से खुद ही गढ़ लेते हैं?

Why do grown-ups think it's easier for children to bear secrets than the truth? Don't they know about the horror stories we imagine to explain the secrets?

Why do grown-ups think it's easier for children to bear secrets than the truth? Don't they know about the horror stories we imagine to explain the secrets?

बेखौफ होने से ज़्यादा डरावनी कोई चीज़ नहीं है।

Nothing is more terrifying than fearlessness.

Nothing is more terrifying than fearlessness.

कभी-कभी, जब आप इतने दुखी होते हैं कि आपको समझ नहीं आता क्या करें, तो गुस्सा होना मददगार साबित होता है।

Sometimes, when you're so sad you don't know what to do, it helps to be angry.

Sometimes, when you're so sad you don't know what to do, it helps to be angry.

औरतों की बात ही अलग थी, इसमें कोई दो राय नहीं है। मर्द बहुत जल्दी टूट जाते थे। दुख औरतों को तोड़ता नहीं था। बल्कि वह उन्हें अंदर से घिस देता था, बहुत धीरे-धीरे उन्हें अंदर से खोखला कर देता था।

Women were different, no doubt about it. Men broke so much more quickly. Grief didn't break women. Instead it wore them down, it hollowed them out very slowly.

Women were different, no doubt about it. Men broke so much more quickly. Grief didn't break women. Instead it wore them down, it hollowed them out very slowly.

अगर आप यह दिखावा करते रहेंगे कि आप उसी किताब के अंदर जी रहे हैं, तो यह बात आपको अपनी असली जिंदगी से नफरत करने पर मजबूर कर देगी।

If you keep pretending you're in that book, it will make you not want to live in the life you're in.

If you keep pretending you're in that book, it will make you not want to live in the life you're in.

सुनो, इसे गलत मत समझना, लेकिन वापस मत आना, ठीक है?

Hey, don't take this the wrong way, but don't come back, ok?

Hey, don't take this the wrong way, but don't come back, ok?

हर किताब की शुरुआत आकर्षक एंडपेपर्स (कवर के अंदर के पन्नों) के साथ होनी चाहिए। बेहतर होगा कि वे गहरे रंग के हों: गहरे लाल या गहरे नीले रंग के, जिल्द (बाइंडिंग) के हिसाब से। जब आप किताब खोलते हैं तो ऐसा लगता है जैसे आप थिएटर में आए हों। पहले आपको पर्दा दिखाई देता है। फिर उसे हटाया जाता है और खेल शुरू होता है।

Every book should begin with attractive endpapers. Preferably in a dark colour: dark red or dark blue, depending on the binding. When you open the book it's like going to the theatre. First you see the curtain. Then it's pulled aside and the show begins.

Every book should begin with attractive endpapers. Preferably in a dark colour: dark red or dark blue, depending on the binding. When you open the book it's like going to the theatre. First you see the curtain. Then it's pulled aside and the show begins.

अगर मैं एक किताब होती, तो मैं लाइब्रेरी की किताब बनना पसंद करती, ताकि हर तरह के बच्चे मुझे अपने घर ले जा सकें।

If I was a book, I would like to be a library book, so I would be taken home by all different sorts of kids.

If I was a book, I would like to be a library book, so I would be taken home by all different sorts of kids.

हर पाठक इस अहसास से वाकिफ है कि किताबों के किरदार असली इंसानों से ज़्यादा असली लगते हैं।

Every reader knows about the feeling that characters in books seem more real than real people.

Every reader knows about the feeling that characters in books seem more real than real people.

सिर्फ किताबों में ही आपको करुणा, सांत्वना, ख़ुशी और प्यार मिल सकता है।

Only in books could you find pity, comfort, happiness and love.

Only in books could you find pity, comfort, happiness and love.

प्यार में पड़ना—यह किसी लाइलाज बीमारी जैसा लगता था, और क्या कभी-कभी ऐसा वाकई महसूस नहीं होता था?

In love - it sounded like a sickness without any cure, and wasn't that just how it sometimes felt?

In love - it sounded like a sickness without any cure, and wasn't that just how it sometimes felt?

मतलब साधने के लिए हम सब झूठे बन जाते हैं।

We're all liars when it serves our purpose.

We're all liars when it serves our purpose.

मेरा हमेशा से एक ड्रैगन की सवारी करने का मन था, इसलिए मैंने एक साल तक अपनी कल्पना में यही किया।

I always wanted to ride a dragon myself, so I decided to do this for a year in my imagination.

I always wanted to ride a dragon myself, so I decided to do this for a year in my imagination.

तो क्या हुआ? सभी लेखक सनकी होते हैं!

So what? All writers are lunatics!

So what? All writers are lunatics!

वह जो किताब पढ़ रही थी वह उसके सिरहाने के नीचे थी, और उसका जिल्द उसके कान से ऐसे लग रहा था जैसे उसे वापस अपने पन्नों के संसार में खींच रहा हो।

The book she had been reading was under her pillow, pressing its cover against her ear as if to lure her back into its printed pages.

The book she had been reading was under her pillow, pressing its cover against her ear as if to lure her back into its printed pages.

जब दिल किसी चीज़ को इतनी शिद्दत से चाहता है, तो तर्क-वितर्क बस एक लाचार दर्शक बनकर रह जाता है।

When the heart craved something so forcefully, then reason became nothing but helpless observer.

When the heart craved something so forcefully, then reason became nothing but helpless observer.

मो ने एक बार उससे कहा था, "क्योंकि डर हर चीज़ को मार डालता है—तुम्हारे दिमाग को, तुम्हारे दिल को, तुम्हारी कल्पना को।"

Because fear kills everything," Mo had once told her. "Your mind, your heart, your imagination.

Because fear kills everything," Mo had once told her. "Your mind, your heart, your imagination.

फरीद अपने साथ एक अदृश्य मेहमान को भी लेकर आया था: डर।

Farid had brought an invisible guest with him. Fear.

Farid had brought an invisible guest with him. Fear.

विश्वास करो, विश्वास करो, विश्वास करो

Believe, believe, believe

Believe, believe, believe

मेरे सारे बच्चे कागज़ और प्रिंटर की स्याही से बने थे।

My children were all made from paper and printer's ink.

My children were all made from paper and printer's ink.

उस चिपचिपी चीज़ को क्या कहते हैं? बास्टा: डक्ट टेप। हाँ, डक्ट टेप। मुझे डक्ट टेप बहुत पसंद है।

What's that sticky stuff called? Basta: Duct tape. Yes, duct tape. I love duct tape.

What's that sticky stuff called? Basta: Duct tape. Yes, duct tape. I love duct tape.

असली ज़िंदगी में भी ऐसा ही होता है: कुख्यात कातिल बिना किसी सज़ा के बच निकलते हैं और अपनी पूरी ज़िंदगी खुशी-खुशी जीते हैं, जबकि अच्छे लोग मर जाते हैं—कभी-कभी तो सबसे बेहतरीन लोग। दुनिया का दस्तूर ही यही है।

It's the same in real life: Notorious murderers get off scot-free and live happily all their lives, while good people die - sometimes the very best people. That's the way of the world.

It's the same in real life: Notorious murderers get off scot-free and live happily all their lives, while good people die - sometimes the very best people. That's the way of the world.

शब्द, शब्द रात को ऐसे भर रहे थे जैसे अदृश्य फूलों की महक।

Words,words filled the night like the fragrance of invisible flowers.

Words,words filled the night like the fragrance of invisible flowers.

दस मिनट का समय भी बहुत लंबा लग सकता है जब आप किसी ऐसी चीज़ का धड़कते दिल के साथ इंतज़ार कर रहे हों जिसे आप समझ नहीं पाते, जिसे आप असल में जानना भी नहीं चाहते।

Ten minutes can be a long time when you're waiting with a beating heart for something you don't understand, something you don't really want to know.

Ten minutes can be a long time when you're waiting with a beating heart for something you don't understand, something you don't really want to know.

घर के बाहर हज़ार दुश्मन होने से बेहतर है कि घर के भीतर एक भी दुश्मन न हो। अरबी कहावत

A thousand enemies outside the house are better than one within. Arab proverb

A thousand enemies outside the house are better than one within. Arab proverb

सत्ता। नशीली। किसी बेहतरीन शराब की तरह।

Power. Intoxicating. Like a fine wine.

Power. Intoxicating. Like a fine wine.

वह बड़ा होना चाहता है। सपने कितने अलग-अलग हो सकते हैं! प्रकृति जल्द ही तुम्हारी यह इच्छा पूरी कर देगी।

He wants to be grown-up. How different dreams can be! Nature will soon grant your wish.

He wants to be grown-up. How different dreams can be! Nature will soon grant your wish.

सपनों में आप बहुत सी बातें जानते हैं, अक्सर अपनी आँखों के देखे सच के बावजूद। आप बस उन्हें जानते हैं।

You know a great many things in dreams, often despite the evidence of your eyes. You just know them.

You know a great many things in dreams, often despite the evidence of your eyes. You just know them.

कहानियाँ लिखना भी एक तरह का जादू ही है।

Writing stories is a kind of magic, too.

Writing stories is a kind of magic, too.

इंकहार्ट से जुड़े पौराणिक जीव बहुत ज़्यादा नहीं हैं।

There are not so many mythical creatures from Inkheart.

There are not so many mythical creatures from Inkheart.

जानते हो, लेखकों के बारे में एक बड़ी दिलचस्प बात है। ज़्यादातर लोग यह सोचने के लिए रुकते ही नहीं कि किताबें उन इंसानों द्वारा लिखी जाती हैं जो बिल्कुल उनकी तरह होते हैं। उन्हें लगता है कि सभी लेखक बहुत पहले मर चुके हैं—वे सड़क पर या खरीदारी करते समय उनसे मिलने की उम्मीद नहीं करते। वे उनकी कहानियाँ जानते हैं, लेकिन उनके नाम नहीं, और चेहरा तो बिल्कुल नहीं। और ज़्यादातर लेखकों को ऐसा ही अच्छा लगता है।

You know, it's a funny thing about writers. Most people don't stop to think of books being written by people much like themselves. They think that writers are all dead long ago--they don't expect to meet them in the street or out shopping. They know their stories but not their names, and certainly not their faces. And most writers like it that way.

You know, it's a funny thing about writers. Most people don't stop to think of books being written by people much like themselves. They think that writers are all dead long ago--they don't expect to meet them in the street or out shopping. They know their stories but not their names, and certainly not their faces. And most writers like it that way.

वह पढ़ती गई, पढ़ती गई और पढ़ती गई, लेकिन वह पन्नों पर लिखे अक्षरों को ऐसे खुद के अंदर ठूंस रही थी जैसे कोई दुखी बच्चा खुद को चॉकलेट से भर रहा हो। उनका स्वाद बुरा नहीं था, फिर भी वह दुखी ही थी।

She read and read and read, but she was stuffing herself with the letters on the page like an unhappy child stuffing itself with chocolate. They didn’t taste bad, but she was still unhappy.

She read and read and read, but she was stuffing herself with the letters on the page like an unhappy child stuffing itself with chocolate. They didn’t taste bad, but she was still unhappy.

मौत की वजह से ज़िंदगी का स्वाद इतना मीठा क्यों हो जाता है? दिल सिर्फ उसी से प्यार क्यों कर सकता है जिसे वह खो भी सकता है?

Why did death make life taste so much sweeter? Why could the heart love only what it could also lose?

Why did death make life taste so much sweeter? Why could the heart love only what it could also lose?

उन्हें हमेशा से रोमांचक कहानियाँ पसंद थीं—ऐसी कहानियाँ जो उजाले और अंधेरे से भरी हों। वह किंग आर्थर के सभी शूरवीरों के नाम बता सकती थीं, और बीओवुल्फ तथा ग्रेंडेल, प्राचीन देवताओं और थोड़े कम प्राचीन नायकों के बारे में सब कुछ जानती थीं। उन्हें समुद्री डाकुओं की कहानियाँ भी पसंद थीं, लेकिन सबसे बढ़कर उन्हें ऐसी किताबें पसंद थीं जिनमें कम से कम एक शूरवीर, एक ड्रैगन या कोई परी हो। वैसे, वह हमेशा ड्रैगन की तरफ़ होती थीं।

She always did like tales of adventure-stories full of brightness and darkness. She could tell you the names of all King Arthur's knights, and she knew everything about Beowulf and Grendel, the ancient gods and the not-quite-so-ancient heroes. She liked pirate stories, too, but most of all she loved books that had at least a knight or a dragon or a fairy in them. She was always on the dragon's side by the way.

She always did like tales of adventure-stories full of brightness and darkness. She could tell you the names of all King Arthur's knights, and she knew everything about Beowulf and Grendel, the ancient gods and the not-quite-so-ancient heroes. She liked pirate stories, too, but most of all she loved books that had at least a knight or a dragon or a fairy in them. She was always on the dragon's side by the way.

वापस जाओ और दुनिया को उस किताब से आज़ाद करो। वसंत आने से पहले उसे शब्दों से भर दो, वरना तुम्हारे लिए सर्दियाँ कभी खत्म नहीं होंगी। और एडरहेड की जान के बदले मैं सिर्फ तुम्हारी ही नहीं, बल्कि तुम्हारी बेटी की भी जान ले लूँगा, क्योंकि उसने इस किताब को बाइंड करने में तुम्हारी मदद की थी। क्या तुम समझते हो, ब्लूजे? मो ने भारी गले से पूछा, "तुम एक जान के बदले दो जाने कैसे माँग सकते हो?"

Go back and rid the word of that book. Fill it with words before spring comes, or winter will never end for you. And I will take not only your life for the Adderhead's but your daughter's, too, because she helped you bind the book. Do you undersand, Bluejay" Why two?" asked Mo hoarsely. "How can you ask for two lives in return for one?

Go back and rid the word of that book. Fill it with words before spring comes, or winter will never end for you. And I will take not only your life for the Adderhead's but your daughter's, too, because she helped you bind the book. Do you undersand, Bluejay" Why two?" asked Mo hoarsely. "How can you ask for two lives in return for one?

वह गहराई के लिए ऐसे तरसती थी जैसे वह रात के आसमान और पानी पर तैरते सफेद कमलों के लिए तरसती थी—हालाँकि वह अब भी खुद को यही यकीन दिलाने की कोशिश करती थी कि सिर्फ प्यार ही उसकी आत्मा को तृप्त कर सकता है।

He longed for the deep as she longed for the night sky and for white lilies floating on water -- although she still tried to convince herself that love alone could feed her soul.

He longed for the deep as she longed for the night sky and for white lilies floating on water -- although she still tried to convince herself that love alone could feed her soul.

मेरी पत्नी को लिखित शब्द पसंद हैं... यानी, ऐसे शब्द जो मरे हुए मक्खियों की तरह चर्मपत्र और कागज़ पर चिपके रहते हैं, और लगता है कि मेरे पिता भी ऐसा ही सोचते थे - लेकिन मैं तो शब्दों को सुनना चाहता हूँ! जब आप सही शब्दों की तलाश कर रहे हों तो इस बात को याद रखें: आपको खुद से यह पूछना होगा कि वे कैसे सुनाई देते हैं! जुनून से चमकते हुए, दुख से गहरे, प्यार से मीठे, मैं यही चाहता हूँ। - कोसिमो

My wife loves written words ... you know, words that stick to parchment and paper like dead flies, and it seems my father felt the same - but I want to hear words! Remember that when you are looking for the right words: You must ask yourself what they SOUND like! Glowing with passion, dark with sorrow, sweet with love, that's what I want. - Cosimo

My wife loves written words ... you know, words that stick to parchment and paper like dead flies, and it seems my father felt the same - but I want to hear words! Remember that when you are looking for the right words: You must ask yourself what they SOUND like! Glowing with passion, dark with sorrow, sweet with love, that's what I want. - Cosimo

सारी किताबें मेरे सुरक्षित हाथों में हैं। वे मेरे बच्चे हैं, स्याही से बने मेरे बच्चे, और मैं उनकी अच्छी तरह देखभाल करता हूँ। मैं सूरज की रोशनी को उनके पन्नों से दूर रखता हूँ, उन पर जमी धूल साफ करता हूँ और भूख से बेताब किताबों के कीड़ों तथा इंसानों की गंदी उँगलियों से उनकी रक्षा करता हूँ।

All books are in safe hands with me. They're my children, my inky children, and I look after them well. I keep the sunlight away from their pages, I dust and protect them from hungry hookworms and grubby human fingers.

All books are in safe hands with me. They're my children, my inky children, and I look after them well. I keep the sunlight away from their pages, I dust and protect them from hungry hookworms and grubby human fingers.

शब्द बेकार थे। कभी-कभी वे सुनने में बहुत अच्छे लग सकते हैं, लेकिन जब आपको सचमुच उनकी ज़रूरत होती है, तो वे आपको धोखा दे देते हैं। आपको कभी सही शब्द मिलते ही नहीं, कभी नहीं, और आप उन्हें ढूँढेंगे कहाँ? जुबान चाहे जितनी भी उसे आवाज़ देने की कोशिश करे, दिल हमेशा मछली की तरह खामोश रहता है।

Words were useless. At times, they might sound wonderful, but they let you down the moment you really needed them. You could never find the right words, never, and where would you look for them? The heart is as silent as a fish, however much the tongue tries to give it a voice.

Words were useless. At times, they might sound wonderful, but they let you down the moment you really needed them. You could never find the right words, never, and where would you look for them? The heart is as silent as a fish, however much the tongue tries to give it a voice.

दूसरी बात, किताबों में ऐसी अनगिनत जादुई जगहें हैं जहाँ आप जा नहीं सकते, जैसे हॉगवर्ट्स और मिडिल अर्थ, इसलिए मैं एक ऐसी कहानी लिखना चाहता था जहाँ बच्चे सचमुच जा सकें।

Second, there are so many magical places in books that you cant go to, like Hogwarts and Middle Earth, so I wanted to set a story in a place where children can actually go.

Second, there are so many magical places in books that you cant go to, like Hogwarts and Middle Earth, so I wanted to set a story in a place where children can actually go.

वह अपने सपने में वापस लौटना चाहती थी। शायद वह अभी भी उसकी बंद पलकों के पीछे कहीं मौजूद था। शायद उसकी खुशी का थोड़ा सा हिस्सा सोने की धूल की तरह उसकी पलकों पर चिपका हुआ था। क्या परियों की कहानियों के सपने कभी-कभार कोई निशानी पीछे नहीं छोड़ जाते?

She wanted to return to her dream. Perhaps it was still somewhere there behind her closed eyelids. Perhaps a little of its happiness still clung like gold dust to her lashes. Don't dreams in fairy tales sometimes leave a token behind?

She wanted to return to her dream. Perhaps it was still somewhere there behind her closed eyelids. Perhaps a little of its happiness still clung like gold dust to her lashes. Don't dreams in fairy tales sometimes leave a token behind?

आग और पानी," उसने कहा, "वास्तव में आपस में मिलते नहीं हैं। आप कह सकते हैं कि वे एक-दूसरे के अनुकूल नहीं हैं। लेकिन जब वे एक-दूसरे से प्यार करते हैं, तो बेहद शिद्दत से प्यार करते हैं।"

Fire and water," he said, "don't really mix. You could say they're incompatible. But when they do love each other, they love passionately.

Fire and water," he said, "don't really mix. You could say they're incompatible. But when they do love each other, they love passionately.

किसी अनजान जगह पर अपने साथ अपनी किताबें रखना एक अच्छी आदत है

It's a good idea to have your own books with you in a strange place

It's a good idea to have your own books with you in a strange place

मेरे पास आइसलैंड के दो घोड़े, 'लूनी' नाम का एक बहुत बालों वाला कुत्ता और एक गिनी पिग है।

I have two Iceland horses, a very hairy dog called Looney, and a guinea pig.

I have two Iceland horses, a very hairy dog called Looney, and a guinea pig.

जब आप कोई किताब खोलते हैं, तो ऐसा लगता है जैसे आप थिएटर में गए हों; पहले आपको पर्दा दिखाई देता है, फिर वह हटता है और शो शुरू हो जाता है।

When you open a book it's like going to the theater first you see the curtain then it is pulled aside and the show begins.

When you open a book it's like going to the theater first you see the curtain then it is pulled aside and the show begins.

मुझे वह एहसास अच्छी तरह याद है। जब भी मेरे पिता किसी किताब में इतने खो जाते थे कि मानो हम वहाँ मौजूद ही न हों, तो मेरा मन कैंची लेकर उस किताब को काट डालने का करता था।

I remember the feeling. Whenever my father got so absorbed in a book that we might have been in visible I felt like taking a pair of scissors and cutting it up.

I remember the feeling. Whenever my father got so absorbed in a book that we might have been in visible I felt like taking a pair of scissors and cutting it up.

अचानक मैगी के भीतर काले, खारे पानी की तरह डर उमड़ने लगा; वह खुद को बेहद खोया हुआ महसूस कर रही थी, और यह बेचैनी उसके रोम-रोम में थी। वह यहाँ की नहीं थी! उसने यह क्या कर दिया?

Quite suddenly Meggie felt fear rise in her like black brackish water, she felt lost, terribly lost, she felt it in every part of her. She didn't belong here! What had she done?

Quite suddenly Meggie felt fear rise in her like black brackish water, she felt lost, terribly lost, she felt it in every part of her. She didn't belong here! What had she done?

इंकहार्ट में ज़िंदगी ज़्यादा कठिन थी, फिर भी मैगी को ऐसा लग रहा था कि हर नए दिन के साथ फेनोलियो की कहानी उसके दिल के इर्द-गिर्द मकड़ी के जाले की तरह जादुई और बेहद खूबसूरत ताना-बाना बुन रही है।

Life was more difficult in Inkheart, yet it seemed to Meggie that with every new day Fenoglio's story was spinning a magic spell around her heart, sticky as a spider's web and enchantingly beautiful.

Life was more difficult in Inkheart, yet it seemed to Meggie that with every new day Fenoglio's story was spinning a magic spell around her heart, sticky as a spider's web and enchantingly beautiful.

मैगी फॉलचार्ट: क्या आपको राइटर ब्लॉक हो गया है? शायद मैं मदद कर सकती हूँ। फेनोलियो: अरे हाँ, ठीक है। तुम लेखिका बनना चाहती हो, है ना? मैगी फॉलचार्ट: आप ऐसे कह रहे हैं जैसे यह कोई बुरी बात हो। फेनोलियो: अरे नहीं, बात बस इतनी है कि यह बहुत अकेलापन भरा काम है। कभी-कभी पन्नों पर बनाई गई आपकी दुनिया असल ज़िंदगी की दुनिया से ज़्यादा अपने और जीवंत लगती है।

Meggie Folchart: Having writer's block? Maybe I can help. Fenoglio: Oh yes, that's right. You want to be a writer, don't you? Meggie Folchart: You say that as if it's a bad thing. Fenoglio: Oh no, it's just a lonely thing. Sometimes the world you create on the page seems more friendly and alive than the world you actually live in.

Meggie Folchart: Having writer's block? Maybe I can help. Fenoglio: Oh yes, that's right. You want to be a writer, don't you? Meggie Folchart: You say that as if it's a bad thing. Fenoglio: Oh no, it's just a lonely thing. Sometimes the world you create on the page seems more friendly and alive than the world you actually live in.

मेरी बेटी अन्ना लगभग 15 साल की है, और मेरा बेटा बेन लगभग 10 साल का है।

My daughter, Anna, is almost 15, and my son, Ben, is almost 10.

My daughter, Anna, is almost 15, and my son, Ben, is almost 10.

हर जर्मन बच्चा स्कूल में अंग्रेज़ी बोलना सीखता है।

Every German child learns to speak English in school.

Every German child learns to speak English in school.

और मेरे पिता मुझे हमेशा लाइब्रेरी ले जाते थे। हम दोनों किताबों के शौकीन थे।

And my father always took me to the library. We were both book addicts.

And my father always took me to the library. We were both book addicts.

हर छोटी बात मुझे प्रभावित करती है। मैं बहुत भावुक हूँ।

Everything gets to me. I'm very sentimental.

Everything gets to me. I'm very sentimental.

मुझे हमेशा यही लगता था कि इस बात का मुझ पर कोई खास असर नहीं पड़ा है, लेकिन इंग्लैंड के कई लोगों ने मुझे बताया कि मेरी किताबों में जर्मन परियों की कहानियों के कई तत्व साफ झलकता हैं।

I always thought it hadn't influenced me very much, but I heard from many people from England that many motives from German fairytales are to be found in my books.

I always thought it hadn't influenced me very much, but I heard from many people from England that many motives from German fairytales are to be found in my books.

काश, मेरे पास स्कूलों में जाने के लिए थोड़ा और समय होता।

I wish I had more time to visit schools.

I wish I had more time to visit schools.