Threading the needle with great concentration Binodini said, ‘My heart knows what my duties are. I can hardly give you a list of them.’
Mahendra sat in silence, looking grave and concerned, and gazed at a coconut palm outside the window. Binodini continued with her sewing wordlessly. There was complete silence in the room for a while. Then suddenly Mahendra spoke up. At the abrupt shattering of the silence, Binodini pricked her finger with the needle.
Mahendra said, ‘Can we say nothing to hold you back?’
Binodini sucked the drop of blood from her finger and said, ‘Why would you say anything? How does it matter whether I stay or go? Does it matter to you at all?’ Her voice seemed to choke as she spoke. She bent low over her work and it felt as if her lowered eyelashes were checking a trace of tears that threatened to spill over. It was that time of the day when the winter afternoon was poised to surrender itself to the darkness of dusk.
In a flash Mahendra gripped Binodini’s hands and said, ‘And if it does indeed matter to me, would you stay?’
Binodini drew back her hands swiftly and moved aside. The spell broke for Mahendra. His own words of a minute ago kept ringing in his ears like a huge travesty. He bit down on his culpable tongue and spoke no more.
At this point Asha stepped into the room echoing with silences. Immediately, Binodini laughed and spoke as if in response to something Mahendra had said earlier, ‘Since you all have placed me in such high regard, it’s my duty to heed your request at least once. I’ll stay until you send me away.’
Asha was thrilled at her husband’s success and threw her arms about her friend. She said, ‘Then that is the last word. Promise me that you will never leave as long as we don’t send you away!’
Binodini promised. Asha said, ‘Dear Bali, when you were going to stay back, why did you make us beg and plead so? Finally you had to bow your head before my husband, didn’t you?’
Binodini laughed. ‘Thakurpo, who was it that had to bow down, you or me?’
Mahendra was speechless all this time. He was feeling that the room resounded with his culpability, and shame was lashing away at him. How would he speak to Asha normally? How could he turn his uncouth rashness into a smiling jest at a moment’s notice? This web of deceit was beyond his reach. He answered quietly, ‘Of course, it was I who had to bow down,’ and walked out of the room.
He came back in there immediately and said to Binodini, ‘Please forgive me.’
Binodini asked, ‘And what are you guilty of, Thakurpo?’
Mahendra said, ‘We don’t have the right to keep you here under compulsion.’
Binodini laughed and said, ‘But where is the compulsion—I don’t see it anywhere. You spoke out of kindness and concern and asked me to stay. Is that called coercion? You tell me, dear Bali, can love and coercion ever be the same?’
Asha agreed with her entirely. ‘Never.’
Binodini said, ‘Thakurpo, that you would like me to stay, that you’ll be sorry to see me leave, is an honour in itself. Isn’t that so, dear Bali? After all, how often does one find such a well-wisher? If fate is so kind as to hand me such a friend in need, a comrade in sorrows and joys, why would I be so keen to brush aside the friendly hand and leave?’
Asha was distressed to see her husband defeated and silenced and she said, ‘Oh, you can never be beaten at words. My husband has laid down his arms, now you should stop.’
Mahendra rushed out of the room once again. At the same time Behari came looking for him, after having spent a few minutes talking to Rajlakshmi. Mahendra ran into him at the door and exclaimed, ‘Oh Behari, I am the biggest scoundrel on this earth.’ The force of his words carried them into the room.
Immediately, the summons came from within, ‘Behari-thakurpo!’
Behari said, ‘Just a minute, Binod-bouthan.’
Binodini said, Please come and listen to this.’
As he stepped into the room Behari shot a quick glance at Asha’s face. The little that could be seen behind the anchal held no trace of sorrow or pain. Asha tried to leave, but Binodini held her back and said, ‘Tell me Behari-thakurpo, are you so repugnant to my Chokher Bali? Why does she want to run away the minute she sees you?’
Embarrassed, Asha poked at Binodini.
Behari laughed as he responded with, ‘It’s probably because my maker has not fashioned me to please the eye.’
Binodini said, ‘Did you see that Bali dear, Behari-thakurpo knows the art of defence; he blamed his maker instead of your taste. You are so unlucky—you have such a gem of a brother-in-law and you don’t know his worth.’
Behari said, ‘If you are convinced of that Binod-bouthan, I have no regrets.’
Binodini said, ‘Oh , the ocean stretches to the horizon, but the mariner thirsts for a drop of water.’
Asha could no longer be checked. She snatched her hand from Binodini’s grip and ran out of the room. Behari also made to rise. Binodini asked, ‘Thakurpo, can you tell me what’s wrong with Mahendrababu?’
Startled, Behari stopped in his tracks and said, ‘I don’t really know; is something wrong?’
Binodini said, ‘I don’t know, Thakurpo, it doesn’t bode well.’
Concerned, Behari sat down on a chair. He looked expectantly at Binodini, eager to hear the whole thing. Binodini continued with her darning without saying another word.
After some time, Behari asked, ‘Has something about Mahin da struck you as odd?’
Binodini replied very casually, ‘I don’t know, Thakurpo, it doesn’t look good to me. I just feel terribly concerned for my Chokher Bali.’ She sighed, put her sewing away and made as if to get up.
Behari said, ‘Bouthan, wait a minute.’
Binodini opened all the doors and windows of the room, stoked up the lamp light, picked up her sewing again and took a seat on the far corner of the bed. She said, ‘Thakurpo, I cannot stay here forever. But when I am gone, please look after my Chokher Bali, see that no harm comes to her.’ She turned away as if to hide an imminent onslaught of tears.
Behari spoke up impetuously, ‘Bouthan, you cannot leave. You don’t have anyone to call your own—you must take it upon yourself to safeguard this simple, innocent girl at all times. If you leave her and go, I don’t see a way out.’
Binodini said, ‘Thakurpo, you know the world as well as I do. If I stayed here forever, what would people say?’
Behari said, ‘Oh, let them say what they will. You mustn’t pay attention to that. You are divine—it is your responsibility to protect the helpless girl from all the stones and pellets hurled by the world. Bouthan, I misjudged you at first; please forgive me for that. Just like the narrow-minded, common man on the street, I did you injustice when I first met you. Once, I even felt that you envied Asha her happiness, that—anyway, it’s a sin even to speak such thoughts aloud. Since then I have glimpsed your divine soul and because I have a deep respect for you, I felt I had to confess all my sins today.’
A stream of pleasure coursed through Binodini. Though her own show of concern was an act, she couldn’t refuse this homage from Behari even in her own heart of hearts. She had never received such a gift from anyone. For an instant she truly believed she was chaste, noble—a vague sense of pity for Asha brought tears to her eyes. She didn’t hide these tears from Behari—they gave her the illusion that she was indeed worthy of homage.
When Behari saw Binodini weeping, he was close to tears himself. He controlled himself somehow and went into Mahendra’s room. Behari had no inkling why Mahendra had declared himself a scoundrel. On reaching his room he found that Mahendra wasn’t there. He was told that Mahendra had gone for a walk. In the past Mahendra seldom left his room without reason. Away from his familiar people and places, he felt uncomfortable and fatigued. Behari started homewards, deep in thought.
Binodini fetched Asha to her own room, drew her into her bosom and with tear-filled eyes said, ‘Dear Bali, I am very unfortunate, very ill-starred.’
Hurt and puzzl
ed, Asha returned her embrace and said, ‘Why, my dear, why do you say that?’
Binodini hid her face in Asha’s bosom like a child close to sobbing and said, ‘Wherever I go, bad things happen. Let go, my friend, let go of me—I will go back to my wilderness.’
Asha raised up Binodini’s face by the chin and said, ‘My sweet friend, don’t talk like that. I cannot live without you. Why did these thoughts of leaving come to you today?’
Meanwhile Behari, having missed Mahendra, decided to go to back to Binodini on some pretext and thresh out the matter of Asha’s and Mahendra’s differences at greater length. He made up an excuse of requesting Binodini to ask Mahendra if he could have lunch with Behari the next day, and turned back to the house. From outside the room he called out, ‘Binod-bouthan,’ and immediately spotted, in the light of the kerosene lamp, the two teary-eyed women holding each other tight. His steps slowed to a halt. Asha noticed his hesitation; suddenly the thought crossed her mind that Behari may have said something unfair or unjust to Binodini and that was why she talked of going away thus. This was very wrong of Behari—he wasn’t a good soul, she thought. Annoyed, Asha walked out of the room. Behari too left, with his heart overflowing with respect for Binodini.
That night Mahendra said to Asha, ‘Chuni, I am leaving for Kashi by the morning train tomorrow.’
Asha’s heart skipped a beat. She asked, ‘But why?’
Mahendra said, ‘It’s been ages since I saw Aunty.’
At this, Asha felt mortified: she should have thought of this before. Filled with self-loathing she felt she was indeed hard-hearted to have forgotten her loving aunt in the midst of the ebb and flow of life, while Mahendra had recalled that loving soul living in a far-off land.
Mahendra said, ‘She had left, entrusting her most precious jewel to my care—I cannot rest if I don’t see her once.’ Mahendra’s voice quivered with unshed tears and his right palm stroked Asha’s temple repeatedly in a gesture of silent blessing and unspoken good wishes. Asha couldn’t make sense of this sudden onslaught of tenderness, but she felt overcome by emotion, and tears ran down her cheeks. She recalled Binodini’s words of exaggerated affection earlier that evening. She didn’t know if there was a link between these two incidents. But she did perceive that this was a watershed in her life. She couldn’t figure out if it was benevolent or malevolent.
Distraught, she embraced Mahendra vigorously. He sensed her unspoken terrors and said, ‘Chuni, you have the blessings of your devout Aunty, you have nothing to fear, nothing at all. She has sacrificed everything and gone away, for your good alone. No harm can ever come to you.’
Asha pushed away all her fears with determination and gathered her husband’s blessings to her heart like a protective talisman. In her mind she touched her aunt’s feet again and again and prayed fervently, ‘Mother, may your blessings protect my husband at all times.’
The next day Mahendra went away without a word to Binodini. She said to herself, ‘You make the mistake and then you take it out on me! What an impostor. These pretences won’t last long.’
23
ANNAPURNA WAS NATURALLY DELIGHTED TO SEE MAHENDRA AFTER SUCH A long time. But at the same time she feared that he had again fought with his mother over Asha and had come to Annapurna for sympathy. Even as a child, Mahendra had always run to his aunt in times of trouble. When he was hurt, Annapurna would console him, and when he was angry, she would advise him to deal with the situation calmly. But she was incapable of consoling him, let alone solving his problems, since his marriage. When she became certain that whatever she tried to do to help him would only serve to aggravate the domestic strife in Mahendra’s life, she had walked out of the house. She had gone away like the helpless mother who goes to the next room when the sick child weeps for water and the doctor forbids it. In this far-off exile, away from the concerns of the house, busy with her religious duties and pious endeavours, she had forgotten the family to some extent. Now she feared that Mahendra had arrived with the intent of bringing up all those conflicts once again and upsetting her peace of mind.
But Mahendra said nothing about any friction with his mother about Asha. Now Annapurna feared other things: why would that same Mahendra, who was once incapable of leaving Asha long enough to go to college, suddenly come so far away to be with his aunt? Were the bonds of love between them wearing thin? Consumed with anxiety, Annapurna asked Mahendra, ‘Tell me honestly, my son, I beg of you, how is Chuni?’
Mahendra said, ‘She is fine, Aunty.’
‘What does she do these days, Mahin? Are you two still as childish as ever or have you begun to take on some household duties?’
Mahendra said, ‘No—the childlishness has stopped. Remember that alphabet book—the root of all evil? I don’t know where it has vanished, but it simply cannot be found. If you were there, you’d be happy to see that Chuni is faithfully fulfilling the duties of a woman, in so far as it is advisable for a woman to neglect her education.’
‘Mahin, what is Behari up to?’
Mahendra said, ‘Everything but his own work. His finances are managed by his clerks and employees—I don’t know with what intent. That is Behari for you. His own matters will be managed by others while he handles the affairs of others.’
Annapurna asked, ‘Mahin, won’t he get married?’
Mahendra smiled at that. ‘I don’t see any signs of it.’
This jolted Annapurna deep in her heart. She was aware that Behari had once agreed to get married, after seeing her niece and that enthusiastic desire had then been crushed unfairly. Behari had said, ‘Aunty, please don’t ask me to get married ever again.’ Those words, full of hurt and anger, were still ringing in Annapurna’s ears. She had left her much-loved and trusted Behari heartbroken and she hadn’t even been able to offer him much consolation. With great trepidation and distress Annapurna wondered if Behari still yearned for Asha!
Mahendra brought her up to date on much of the news of their daily lives, with great wit and humour. But he did not mention Binodini at all.
Mahendra’s college was in session and there was no reason for him to stay in Kashi for too long. But his visit to Annapurna was giving him the kind of pleasure that one gets while convalescing in healthy environs after a nerve-wracking and tedious illness. And so the days slipped by in quick succession. The conflict with his own self that he had been unable to resolve, disappeared gradually. The few days he spent in the company of the pious and loving Annapurna, made him so attuned to the duties and responsibilities of life, that his earlier fears began to seem almost ludicrous. He began to feel that Binodini was of no consequence. So much so that he could not recall her face clearly now. Eventually, with great force, Mahendra said to himself, ‘I cannot see anyone on the horizon who has the power to dislodge Asha from her place in my heart.’
One day he said to Annapurna, ‘Aunty, I have to go back to college—so I’ll take your leave for now. Although you have cut yourself off from family ties, please allow me to come and visit you from time to time.’
Mahendra came back home and gave Asha the box of sindoor and the little pot made of white stone and glitter that were sent by her aunt with love. Asha wept copiously and when she recalled her aunt’s unconditional love for them and the many ways in which all of them including Rajlakshmi had tormented her, she felt very unhappy indeed. She said to Mahendra, ‘I really wish I could go to my aunt just once, touch her feet and beg forgiveness. Is that not possible?’
Mahendra understood her misery and he wasn’t unwilling to let her go to spend a few days with Annapurna in Kashi. But he really didn’t see how he could take leave from college once again, so soon after his previous trip.
Asha said, ‘I believe my uncle’s wife will go to Kashi shortly. Is it all right if I go with her?’
Mahendra went to Rajlakshmi, ‘Mother, Asha wants to go to Kashi to visit Aunty.’
Rajlakshmi replied scathingly, ‘Certainly, if her ladyship wants to go, she must go. Why don’t you
take her?’
She wasn’t happy that Mahendra had re-established contact with Annapurna; at this request of Asha going there as well, she was quite displeased.
Mahendra said,’I cannot go; I have classes. She can go withAnukulbabu.’
Rajlakshmi said, ‘Oh, that’s wonderful. They are rich people; their paths seldom cross ours, poor as we are. It would be an honour for her to go with them.’
Mahendra was sorely put out by this repeated derision from his mother. He hardened his heart and walked away, silently determined to send Asha to Kashi.
When Behari came to meet Rajlakshmi, she said, ‘O Behari, have you heard—our daughter-in-law wants to go to Kashi!’
Behari said, ‘What! Mahin da will take leave again to go with her?’
Rajlakshmi said, ‘Oh no, why would Mahin do that! It wouldn’t be the height of fashion, would it? Mahin will stay here and she will go with her uncle. Everyone is so modern these days.’
Behari felt concerned—not with the emerging signs of ‘modernity’ though; he wondered, ‘What is going on—when Mahin da went to Kashi, Asha was here; now that she wants to go, he is staying back. Something must be seriously wrong between them. How long will this go on? As friends, can’t we do something about this—should we just keep our distance?’
Mahendra was sitting in his room, thoroughly exasperated by his mother’s rudeness. Binodini had not met him since he returned. Asha was pleading with her in the next room to come and meet him.
At this point Behari walked in and said, ‘Is Asha-bouthan’s trip to Kashi all fixed?’
Mahendra said, ‘Why wouldn’t it be fixed? What’s the difficulty?’
Behari said, ‘Who said anything about difficulty? But what’s behind this sudden idea?’
Mahendra said, ‘Oh—wish to see her aunt—yearning for one’s loved ones who are far away—it is not uncommon to human nature.’
Behari asked, ‘Are you going with her?’
The Tagore Omnibus, Volume One Page 9
