Mahendra tried to rebel against his family, lit all the lamps of his love-life all at once and tried to play out his grand romance amidst the gloom of his deserted household. He tried a dig at Asha, ‘Chuni, what’s the matter with you these days? Why are you so upset over your aunt’s departure? Isn’t our love enough to make up for all the loves in the world?’
Asha was miserable as she thought, ‘Then there must be a lack in my love. I think of my aunt so often; I am so upset that Mother has left us.’ She then tried her best to compensate for this lack in the extent of her love.
The household chores remained half done these days. The servants made hay and work was neglected. One day the maid claimed to be sick and was absent, the next day the cook was too drunk to come in to work. Mahendra said to Asha, ‘That’s great. Today we shall cook our own meals.’
Mahendra drove down to New Market to shop. He had no idea of what to buy and how much—he just picked up a lot of things and came home happy. Asha didn’t have a clue either about what was to be done with the horde that he had brought home. Trial and error drove the clock hands past three o’clock and Mahendra was amused by the end result—a variety of inedible dishes. Asha failed to join him in his mirth—her own ignorance and incompetence shamed her.
Everything was scattered about so untidily in all the rooms that it was difficult to find anything when it was needed. One day, Mahendra’s scalpel was used to cut vegetables and it took permanent refuge in the pile of debris. His notes were used to stoke the kitchen fire, whereupon they gave up the ghost on the ashen bed of the stove.
These and many other disasters gave Mahendra much cause for mirth while Asha continued to feel more and more upset. To the young girl such abandoned drifting of the household on the waves of confusion and waste was nothing less than a nightmare.
One evening the two were sitting on a bed they’d made on the covered veranda. Before them stretched the open terrace. After a spurt of rain the skyline of Kolkata was awash with moonlight on the horizon. Asha had gathered rain-drenched bakul flowers from the garden; she now sat with her head bent, weaving them into a garland. Mahendra was pulling at it, hindering her, criticizing and generally trying to pick a mock squabble. If Asha opened her mouth to chide him for such misdeeds, he immediately silenced her by a contrived move and nipped the reproach in the bud.
At this point the neighbour’s koel called out from its cage. Immediately, Asha and Mahendra looked up at the cage that hung over their heads. Their koel never let the neighbour’s koel go unanswered.Why was it silent today?
Asha was worried. ‘What ‘s wrong with the bird?’
Mahendra said, ‘It’s heard your voice and is too shy to open its beak.’
Asha pleaded, ‘No, seriously, please have a look.’
Mahendra brought the cage off the hook. He opened its doors and found the bird had died. After Annapurna left, the bearer had gone on leave. No one had looked after the bird.
Asha’s face turned ashen. Her fingers stilled over the flowers piled on her lap. Mahendra was saddened too; but he was more afraid of the mood being spoilt and so he tried to laugh it off, ‘Actually it’s all for the best. When I go to college the damned bird cried its heart out and disturbed you.’ Mahendra reached for Asha and tried to hold her close.
Asha disentangled herself slowly and emptied her sari of the bakul flowers. ‘No more,’ she said. ‘Shame on us! Please go quickly and bring Mother back.’
9
AT THAT VERY MOMENT THERE WAS A SHOUT OF ‘MAHIN DA, Mahin da’ from below. Mahendra replied, ‘Hello there, come on up.’ Behari’s voice actually lifted Mahendra’s spirits. Since their marriage Behari had often come between them as a barrier—but today that very barrier seemed welcome and imperative. Asha too felt relieved at Behari’s arrival. When she drew the sari over her head and made as if to rise, Mahendra said, ‘Where are you off to? It’s only Behari.’
Asha said, ‘Let me arrange for Thakurpo’s tea.’
Asha’s dejection lifted a little at this opportunity to do something. She wanted to hear about her mother-in-law and so she stood there awhile. She still never addressed Behari directly.
As he walked in Behari said, ‘Oh no, I seem to have run headlong into intense poesy. Don’t worry, Bouthan, you sit down and I’ll be on my way.’
Asha glanced at Mahendra, who asked, ‘Behari, how is Mother?’
Behari said, ‘Don’ t bring up Mother and Aunty today, my friend, there’s time yet for all that. Such a night was not made for sleep, nor for mothers and aunts.’
Behari was about to turn back when Mahendra dragged him back by force and made him sit down. Behari said, ‘Look Bouthan, it’s not my fault—he held me back by force—it’s Mahin da’s sin and the curse shouldn’t come upon me!’ Such bantering always irked Asha because she could never respond. Behari did this on purpose.
Behari said, ‘Well , the house is a sight. Isn’t it time yet for you to fetch Mother?’
Mahendra said, ‘Certainly! In fact we are waiting for her.’
Behari said, ‘It won’t cost much of your time to write that to her and it’ll give her immense joy. Bouthan, I appeal to you: please spare Mahin da for a few minutes so that he can write the note.’
Asha stomped away in anger—she had tears in her eyes.
Mahendra said, ‘What a moment it was when you two set eyes upon one another—your squabbles never seem to end.’
Behari said, ‘You have been spoilt by your mother and now your wife is doing the same. I find it so appalling that I protest ever so often.’
Mahendra asked, ‘And what’s the upshot of all this?’
Behari replied, ‘None where you are concerned, but there is some for me.’
10
BEHARI MADE MAHENDRA WRITE THE LETTER TO RAJLAKSHMI AND TOOK IT with him the next day, meaning to bring her back. Rajlakshmi could tell the letter was written as a result of Behari’s coercion, but she couldn’t stay away any longer. She brought Binodini along with her.
When she returned and found the house in utter disarray and chaos, Rajlakshmi felt even more hostile towards Asha. But what a change there was in Asha! She followed Rajlakshmi around like a shadow now, trying to lend a hand everywhere even without being told. Rajlakshmi exclaimed anxiously, ‘Let it be, you’ll ruin it! Why do you try to do what you don’t know anything about?’
She reached the conclusion that this change in Asha was brought about by Annapurna’s departure. But she felt Mahendra should not think that when Annapurna was around he could spend his days freely with Asha and now under his mother’s regimen he had lost his wife. He would perceive his aunt as his well-wisher and his mother as an enemy. What was the point?
These days, if Mahendra called her in the day, Asha hesitated to go up. But Rajlakshmi reprimanded her, ‘Can’t you hear, Mahin is calling you? Can’t you answer him? Too much love has gone to your head. Go on, you don’t have to do the vegetables now.’
It was back to the mockery of the slate, pencil and the alphabets, blaming each other for the alleged paucity of love, pointless squabbles over who loved whom the most, turning gloomy days into nights and moonlit nights into sunny days, staving off ennui and boredom by sheer force. It was a kind of deadly grip on each other, where even when togetherness yielded no great joy, there was morbid fear in letting go of one another for even a single second—the pleasure of mating turned to ashes and yet, one couldn’t move away from it, fearing a vacuum elsewhere. Such was the terrible curse of over-indulgence that although the pleasure wasn’t long-standing, the bonds were lethally binding.
Then one day, Binodini came and twined her arms about Asha’s neck and said, ‘My friend, may your happiness last forever, but don’t you think you could spare this hapless soul a mere glance sometimes?’
Asha had a natural reserve in front of strangers, having grown up in another’s home. She feared rejection.When Binodini had arrived with her arched brows and sharp glance, her flawless face and her pristin
e, youthful beauty, Asha hadn’t dared approach her to make her acquaintance. She noticed that Binodini was perfectly natural in Rajlakshmi’s presence. Rajlakshmi also took pleasure in praising Binodini in Asha’s presence, giving her more than her due share of importance. Asha perceived that Binodini was adept at all the household chores and supervision came naturally to her. She never hesitated to set the maids to work, scolding them and ordering them about. All this made Asha feel very small beside Binodini. But when that epitome of perfection, Binodini herself came to seek Asha’s friendship, her pleasure drowned her hesitation and flooded her heart with joy. As if a magician had waved his wand somewhere, their friendship grew, blossomed and flourished in the space of a single day.
Asha said, ‘Come, let’s give our friendship a name—let’s be something to each other.’
Binodini laughed. ‘Like what?’
Asha suggested many pretty names like flower and bee, Ganga and Yamuna. But Binodini said, ‘All those are outdated; an affectionate name is no longer worthy of love.’
Asha said, ‘What would you like us to be?’
Binodini laughed and said, ‘A grain of sand in the eye. Chokher Bali.’
Asha was more inclined towards the sweeter names, but she took Binodini’s advice and settled for the affectionate invective of Chokher Bali—a grain of sand in the eye that drew pearly tears. She hugged Binodini and said, ‘Chokher Bali,’ and rolled to the floor, giggling.
11
ASHA WAS BADLY IN NEED OF A COMPANION. EVEN A ROMANCE IS INCOMPLETE if there are just two players—extra ears are needed to spread the words of love around. A famished Binodini drank up the details of the new bride’s new-found romance like a drunkard swigging at a bottle. Her ears reddened as she listened and her blood fairly simmered in her veins.
In the muted afternoons, when Rajlakshmi was asleep, the servants disappeared into the rooms downstairs to rest and Mahendra went to college after much cajoling from Behari, when the faint cries of the kite could be heard from the far end of the blistering horizon, Asha lay flat on the bed with her hair spread out on the pillow and Binodini pulled up another pillow under her breast as she lay on her stomach; the two of them were lost in whispered tales—Binodini’s face became flushed and her breath quickened. She always asked eager questions and got the tiniest details, heard the same stories over and over again and once they were told, she took recourse to her imagination and asked, ‘What if things happened like this or like that?’ Asha too enjoyed dragging the discussions onto those uncharted paths of what-if.
Binodini asked, ‘Tell me, Chokher Bali, what would you do if you’d been married to Beharibabu instead?’
Asha said, ‘Oh no, don’t ever say that—oh God, I feel so embarrassed. But you would have suited him well; there was some talk once, wasn’t there?’
Binodini said, ‘Oh, there were talks about so many men for me. It’s good it didn’t happen—I am fine the way I am.’
Asha protested. How could she accept Binodini was happier than she was? ‘Just think for a moment, Bali, if you’d got married to my husband! It nearly happened, too!’
Of course it had nearly happened. Why didn’t it? Once this bed of Asha’s was waiting for her. Binodini glanced around at this well-decorated room and simply couldn’t push the thought out of her mind. Today she was a mere guest in this room, here today and gone tomorrow.
In the evening Binodini often took it upon herself to tie Asha’s hair in a fancy hairdo and send her to greet her husband. Her imagination, veiled and hidden, crept behind this bedecked bride and entered the isolated room for a tryst with the spellbound young man. On some other days she refused to let Asha go. ‘Oh come on, sit a little longer.Your husband won’t run away. He’s not the fleet-footed buck of the woods, he’s the tame deer tethered at your threshold.’ She would try to hold Asha back with such comments.
Mahendra got impatient and said, ‘Your friend never seems to want to leave—when will she go back home?’
Asha rose to Binodini’s defence zealously. ‘No, you shan’t be angry at my Chokher Bali.You’ll be surprised to know that she loves hearing about you—she dresses me up so tenderly with her own hands and sends me to meet you.’
Rajlakshmi didn’t let Asha do any household work. Binodini took Asha’s side and let her in on some of the chores. Binodini was busy all day long with a variety of housework and now she wanted Asha at her side as well. She had woven a chain of household tasks so skillfully that it was impossible for Asha to find even a few minutes to steal away to Mahendra. Binodini laughed a cruel, jagged smile to herself when she thought of Asha’s husband sitting in a corner of that lonely room on the terrace, bursting with impatience and thwarted passion. Concerned and anxious, Asha would remark, ‘I’ll be off now, Bali dear, or he’ll be very angry.’
Quickly Binodini would say, ‘Oh wait, just finish this bit and go—it won’t take long.’
A little later Asha would grow restless again. ‘No my friend, he’ll be really angry now—let me go.’
Binodini would say, ‘Oh dear, and I suppose that would be so terrible? There’s no fun in romance if there isn’t a bit of provocation sprinkled on the love—it’s like the spice in the curry, it brings the flavour out.’
Actually, only Binodini knew the taste of this spice, but in her life the vegetables were missing from the curry. The blood flamed in her veins; wherever she glanced, her eyes showered sparks of burning embers: ‘Such a happy household, such a loving husband—I could have made it a home fit for royalty and turned him into my devoted slave. This home then wouldn’t be in this sorry state, and this man would have turned heads. But in my place rules this child of a girl, this infantile doll!’ She hugged Asha and said, ‘Dear Bali, please tell me what happened last night, won’t you? Did you say all that I taught you to say? When I hear of your love, I lose both sleep and hunger.’
12
ONE DAY MAHENDRA GREW ANNOYED AND SAID TO RAJLAKSHMI, ‘DO YOU think this is a good idea? Why do we have to take on the responsibility of a young widow from another family? I am not for this at all—you never know what troubles may lurk around the corner.’
Rajlakshmi said, ‘But she is my Bipin’s wife—I think of her as family.’
Mahendra said, ‘No, Mother, this is not right. I would advice you to send her back.’
Rajlakshmi was well aware that Mahendra’s wish couldn’t be ignored easily. She sent for Behari and said, ‘Behari, why don’t you speak to Mahin? I am able to get a bit of rest in this old age simply because Bipin’s wife is here. Call her whatever you like, but I have never got such loyal service from any of my own.’
Behari didn’t answer Rajlakshmi, but he did go to Mahendra and say, ‘Mahin da, have you thought about Binodini?’
Mahendra laughed and said, ‘I am losing sleep over her. Why don’t you ask your bouthan—Binodini is all I think about these days.’
Asha chided him silently from behind her anchal raised over her head.
Behari said, ‘Well, well, we have a situation rivalling Bankim’s The Poison Tree on our hands!’
Mahendra said, ‘Exactly. Now Chuni is hell-bent on sending her away.’
From behind the veil, Asha’s eyes seethed with silent rebuke.
Behari said, ‘But it won’t take long for her to come right back. I suggest you marry off this widow—that’ll take care of her for good.’
Mahendra laughed. ‘Kunda in The Poison Tree was married off too.’
Behari said, ‘Fine, let that analogy be for now. I think of Binodini sometimes. She cannot possibly stay here forever. But sending her back to that godforsaken place is also a severe punishment.’
Binodini had not come face to face with Mahendra yet. But Behari had seen her and realized that she was worthy of more than the wilderness that passed for a home in Barasat. However, he was also wary of the fact that the flame that burned beautifully in an oil-lamp could as well set a house on fire.
Mahendra teased Behari about Binodin
i in various ways and Behari stood up to the test valiantly. But he stood firm in his belief that this woman shouldn’t be toyed with and neither should she be ignored.
Rajlakshmi threw a word of caution at Binodini. ‘Be careful my child, don’t cling to Asha like that.You are used to the usual customs of a village household and know nothing of the modern ways.You are intelligent, you will know what I mean; just watch what you do.’
Following this, Binodini began to keep Asha at arm’s length with great ceremony. She said, ‘Oh, who am 1? People like me should know their place and stay there or you never know what may happen.’
Asha wept and pleaded, but Binodini stood firm. Asha was fairly bursting with confidences unuttered, but Binodini paid no heed.
Meanwhile, the fervour of Mahendra’s embraces slackened somewhat and his fascinated gaze on Asha grew rather weary.The foibles and oddities in Asha that had seemed amusing to him at first now irked him no end. He was piqued every moment by Asha’s incompetence around the house, but he never spoke his mind. Even so, Asha could sense that familiarity had taken the sparkle out of the romance. Mahendra’s lovemaking struck the wrong chords—some of it seemed excessive and some self-deceptive. At such times, escape was the only route, separation the only remedy. In the naturally intuitive fashion of women, Asha tried to leave Mahendra alone more often these days. But she had nowhere to go, except to Binodini.
Coming back to earth from the dizzy clouds of romance, Mahendra opened his eyes slowly and cast them at last on his studies, and other household chores. He began to retrieve his medical textbooks from all kinds of impossible places, wiped the dust off them and attempted to air out his college clothes.
13
WHEN BINODINI REFUSED TO ACQUIESCE, ASHA TRIED ANOTHER PLOY. SHE said to Binodini, ‘Dear Bali, why don’t you ever come before my husband? Why do you always run and hide?’
The Tagore Omnibus, Volume One Page 4
