Mahendra left the bed instantly, washed his face and went to meet Binodini. He found her door closed. He banged on it and asked, ‘Are you asleep?’
Binodini said, ‘No. Go away now.’
Mahendra said, ‘I need to speak to you—it won’t take long.’
Binodini said, ‘I don’t wish to speak to you or hear anything any more—go away, don’t bother me now; I wish to be alone.’
At any other time, this rejection would have made Mahendra’s heart grow more impassioned. But today he only felt disgust. He thought, ‘I have sunk myself so low in this ordinary woman’s esteem that she has acquired the right to dismiss me at any time, in any manner! This is not her rightful privilege. It is I who gave it to her and made her think too much of herself.’ This rebuff made Mahendra resolute to establish his own superiority to himself. He said, ‘I shall win—I’ll break her hold over me and I’ll go away.’
After lunch Mahendra went to the bank to pick up money. Thereafter he roamed the shops of Allahabad in search of some nice things to buy for Asha and his mother.
Once again, there were knocks on Binodini’s door. At first she was irritated and didn’t respond. But when the knocking went on, she lost her temper and hurled the door open as she shouted, ‘Why must you disturb me again and again?’ But her last words hung unspoken in the air. She had seen Behari standing outside.
Behari glanced inside just to check if Mahendra was there. The room was strewn with withered flowers and torn garlands. His heart turned sour in one instant. Away from Binodini, Behari had often been beset by doubts about her, but his imagination was powerful enough to shroud his doubts of immorality and paint a pretty picture over it all. Yet, as he entered the farmhouse, he had shuddered and cringed lest the image in his heart be shattered. Standing at Binodini’s door, he received the very jolt he’d dreaded.
From afar, Behari had once imagined that with the power of his love he’d be able to wash away all the grime from Binodini’s life. But now, close at hand, he realized it wouldn’t be easy—his heart was scarcely filled with compassion! The sudden waves of revulsion that rose within him took him by surprise. He found Binodini looking quite listless.
Behari turned away and called, ‘Mahin da, Mahin da.’
Binodini spoke in soft and gentle tones, ‘Mahendra is not here, he has gone to the city.’
When Behari made as if to leave, Binodini said, ‘Behari-thakurpo, I beg of you, you must sit here awhile.’
Behari had decided he wouldn’t give in to any plea and he would remove himself from this hideous scene instantly. But the pathetic pleading in Binodini’s tone held him rooted to the spot for a second.
Binodini said, ‘If you turn away and leave today, I swear on you that I shall give up my life.’
Behari turned around and asked, ‘Why do you try to entangle me in your life? What have I ever done to you? I have never stood in your way or meddled in your joys and sorrows.’
Binodini said, ‘I have once told you just how much you mean to me—you did not believe me. Today, faced with your disgust, I shall say the same thing again. You have not given me the time to communicate this wordlessly, or coyly. You have pushed me away and yet, I hold your feet as I say that I—’
Behari interrupted her, ‘Don’ t say those words ever again. There’s no way I can believe them now.’
Binodini said, ‘Other people may hold their presumptions true, but you too? That’s why I have asked you to sit awhile.’
Behari said, ‘How does it matter if I believe it or not? Your life will go on as before.’
Binodini said, ‘I know it will not make a difference to you. I am so unfortunate that I shall never be able to take my place beside you with honour and esteem. I will have to stay away from you. But my soul wishes to lay just one claim on you—wherever I am, you must think well of me. I know that once you had felt a little respect for me—I shall hold that dear to my heart. That’s why you have to hear me out. I beg of you Thakurpo, sit awhile.’
‘All right, let’s go,’ Behari made as if to go someplace else.
Binodini said, ‘Thakurpo, it is not what it seems. This room hasn’t been touched by dishonour. You had once slept in this room—I have dedicated it to your memory; those flowers were used to worship your thoughts and they lie there now, withered and lifeless. You must sit in this very room.’
Behari felt a secret thrill course through him. He stepped into the room. Binodini silently indicated the bed to him. Behari sat on the bed—Binodini sat on the floor at his feet. At this, he tried to rise in haste and she said, ‘Thakurpo, sit down. For my sake, do not get up. I am not even fit to sit at your feet—you are kind enough to give me that space; even if I am far away from you, I shall retain that privilege.’
Binodini was silent for some time. Suddenly, she remembered something and looked up. Thakurpo, have you eaten?’
Behari said, ‘I ate at the station.’
Binodini said, ‘Why did you send back the letter that I’d written to you from the village, through Mahendra?’
Behari said, ‘But I did not receive any letter.’
Binodini asked, ‘Didn’t you and Mahendra meet in Kolkata?’
Behari said, ‘I met Mahendra the day after I dropped you off at your village. Soon after that I left for the west and I have never met him since then.’
Binodini enquired again, ‘Before that, did you read a letter from me and send it back without an answer once?’
Behari said, ‘No, I’ve never done that.’
Binodini sat there, speechless. Then she heaved a sigh and said, ‘Now I know what happened. And now I must tell you everything. If you believe me, I shall consider myself fortunate; if you don’t I won’t blame you—it is difficult to believe me.’
Behari’s heart had melted. He couldn’t bring himself to affront the devotion of the pious, devout Binodini. He said, ‘Bouthan, you do not have to say anything—I believe you entirely. I am not capable of hating you. Please do not say another word.’
Binodini’s tears flowed unchecked as she touched his feet in gratitude. She said, ‘I shall die if I don’t confess everything to you. You must be patient and hear me out. I surrendered myself to the sentence you meted out to me. In spite of not getting a single letter from you, I would have spent the rest of my life enduring the jibes and taunts of the villagers; I would have gladly settled for your reprimand instead of your love. But fate denied me that too. The sins that I gave birth to, didn’t let me remain in exile. Mahendra came to the village, to my door and dishonoured me before everyone. I could no longer stay in the village. I hunted high and low for you, in order to seek your judgement a second time. But I couldn’t find you. Mahendra brought back my letter to you, opened, and betrayed my trust. I thought you had given up on me forever. After this, I could have sunk to my doom—but you have untold powers, you can protect one even from afar. I could remain chaste only because I have placed you in my heart. The day you sent me away you revealed your true self, the harsh self, as harsh as pure gold, as harsh as the uncut diamond—it stayed lodged in my heart and made me precious too; my lord, I swear at your feet that its purity has not been defiled.’
Behari sat there in silence. Binodini did not say another word. The afternoon sun had begun to lose its glare. At this point Mahendra returned—and stood stunned seeing Behari. The indifference to Binodini that had taken over his mind was nearly driven out by a sudden force of burning envy. When the slighted Mahendra found Binodini sitting at Behari’s feet, his pride was wounded. He was left in no doubt that this meeting was a consequence of prolonged correspondence between Binodini and Behari. All these days Behari had been away; now if he came to her, who could stop Binodini from rushing to him? Today, on seeing Behari, Mahendra realized that he could let go of Binodini, but he couldn’t give her up to another man.
In thwarted anger, Mahendra hurled harsh sarcasm at Binodini, ‘So now it is exit Mahendra and enter Behari on stage, is it? Quite a pretty scene—
one feels like clapping. But I do hope this is the last act. Nothing else can follow this one.’
Binodini’s face turned red. Since she had been forced to take Mahendra’s help, she had no answer for this slur—she merely cast a fervent glance at Behari.
Behari got up, took a step forward and said, ‘Mahin da, you will not insult Binodini like a coward; if your civility doesn’t forbid you from doing so, I have the right to forbid you.’
Mahendra laughed. ‘Oh, so we have already worked out rights and all, eh? Let us give you a name from this day—Binod-Behari!’
When Behari realized that the invectives were crossing their limits, he gripped Mahendra’s hands and said, ‘Mahin da, let me inform you that I intend to marry Binodini; from now on do control your language.’
At these words Mahendra went speechless with surprise and Binodini looked up, startled. The blood rushed to her ears.
Behari said, ‘I have something else to tell you—your mother is on her deathbed; there’s no hope for her. I am leaving tonight. Binodini will come with me.’
Binodini was stunned. ‘Aunty is ill?’
Behari said, ‘Fatally. Anything can happen at any time.’
Mahendra left the room without saying another word.
Binodini said to Behari, ‘How could the words that you just spoke come from your lips! Is it a joke?’
Behari said, ‘No, I spoke the truth. I would like to marry you.’
Binodini said, ‘So that you can save this sinner?’
Behari said, ‘No. It’s because I love you and respect you.’
Binodini said, ‘This will be my final reward. That you have accepted me is all I could ever hope for. Anything more will not last, and the heavens won’t stand for it.’
Behari asked, ‘But why not?’
Binodini went red. ‘Oh, for shame, even the thought is shameful. I am a widow, I am tarnished—I shall bring dishonour to your name in the eyes of society—no, no, this cannot happen. For pity’s sake, never say these words again.’
Behari said, ‘Then, you will leave me?’
Binodini replied, ‘I do not have the right to leave you. You are involved in beneficial activities for others—give me some duties in one of your missions. I shall perform them all my life and consider myself at your service. But for pity’s sake—you cannot marry a widow. Your generosity may have room for anything, but if I do this and ruin your name in society, I shall not be able to hold up my head for the rest of my life.’
Behari said again, ‘But Binodini, I love you.’
Binodini said, ‘I shall use that privilege today to take just one liberty.’
She knelt on the ground and kissed his feet. She sat at his feet and said, ‘I shall pray that I have you in my next birth—in this lifetime I hope for no more, I deserve no more. I have inflicted much misery, received much sorrow, I have learnt a lot. If I had forgotten those lessons, I would have sunk lower by dragging you with me. But since you remain on your pedestal, I am able to hold my head high today—I shall not raze this monument to the ground.’
Behari was silent and grave.
Binodini pleaded with folded hands, ‘Don’ t misunderstand me—you will not be happy marrying me. I, too, will lose my self-esteem. You have always been detached and contented with your lot. Stay that way—I shall serve you from afar. I hope you will be happy and fulfilled.’
53
MAHENDRA WAS ABOUT TO ENTER HIS MOTHER’S ROOM WHEN ASHA quickly stepped out and said, ‘Don t go in there now.’
Mahendra asked, ‘But why?’
Asha said, ‘The doctor has said that if Mother gets a sudden shock, of joy or sorrow, the consequences may be grave.’
Mahendra said, ‘Let me go and stand by her bedside quietly, just this once—she wouldn’t know a thing.’
Asha said, ‘The slightest sound is enough to startle her these days—she’ll know as soon as you enter the room.’
Mahendra said, ‘So what do you suggest?’
Asha said, ‘Let Behari-thakurpo come and have a look first—we’ll do as he says.’
As she spoke, Behari arrived. Asha had sent for him.
Behari said, ‘Bouthan, did you send for me? How is Mother?’
Asha seemed relieved to see Behari. She said, ‘After you left, Mother seemed to grow more restless. The first day, when she didn’t see you she asked me, “Where is Behari?” I said, “He has gone on some urgent work. He’ ll be back by Thursday.” Ever since then she starts at the slightest sound. She doesn’t say anything but she seems to be waiting for someone. When I got your telegram yesterday, I knew that you’ll be here today. She heard that and she’s arranged a special meal for you today. She sent for all the things that you like to eat; she also arranged for the cooking to be done in the veranda upfront so that she could supervise it from her bed. She refused to obey the doctor’s instructions. A little while ago she called me and said, “Bou-ma, you will cook everything with your own hands. I shall sit with him during his meal.”’
Behari’s eyes grew moist at these words. He asked, ‘How is she feeling?’
Asha replied, ‘Come and take a look yourself. I feel her condition has worsened.’
Behari stepped into the room. Mahendra stood outside in stunned silence. Asha had taken up the responsibility of the household with ease—how effortlessly she forbade Mahendra from entering the room! There was no hesitation, no hurt. Mahendra’s position was so weak today. He was culpable, he stood outside the door silently—he couldn’t even enter his mother’s room.
It was also surprising how comfortably Asha spoke to Behari! Her entire discussion was with him alone. Behari was the sole guardian of this household today, dear to everyone. He had access everywhere and everyone took his advice. Mahendra had left the space vacant for a while and on his return he found it was no longer there for him to lay claims on.
As Behari approached her bedside, Rajlakshmi laid her grief-stricken eyes on his face and said, ‘Behari, you’re back!’
Behari said, ‘Yes Mother, I am back.’
Rajlakshmi asked, ‘Is your work done?’
She looked at him with eager anticipation. Behari smiled cheerfully and said, ‘Yes Mother, my mission is accomplished and I have no more worries.’ He glanced at the door as he spoke.
Rajlakshmi said, ‘Today Bou-ma will cook for you and I shall supervise. The doctors forbid me, but what is the point of all this, my child! Must I leave without once watching you all eat heartily?’
Behari said, ‘I don’t see why the doctors should object—it won’t do if you don’t supervise everything. Ever since we were children, we have learnt to love food cooked only by you—Mahin da is heartily sick of the daal and roti they serve in the west—he’d be delighted to have some of your fish curry. Today, we two brothers will compete with each other and eat like old times—let’s hope your Bou-ma cooks enough rice.’
Although Rajlakshmi knew that Behari had brought Mahendra along, the very mention of his name made her heart leap and she found it difficult to draw breath. When the feeling passed, Behari said, ‘Mahin da’s health has improved from the change of air. Today he’s a little drawn due to the travails of the journey—nothing that a shower and a proper meal wouldn’t put right.’
Rajlakshmi still didn’t take her son’s name. So Behari said, ‘Mother, Mahin da is waiting outside the door. He cannot come in unless you call him in.’
Rajlakshmi glanced at the door mutely. Immediately, Behari called out, ‘Mahin da, come in.’
Mahendra stepped into the room slowly. Rajlakshmi couldn’t bring herself to look at his face for fear that her heart would suddenly miss a beat and stop entirely. She lowered her eyes. Mahendra looked towards the bed and got the shock of his life—he felt someone had dealt him a mortal wound. He fell at his mother’s feet and placed his head on them. Rajlakshmi shuddered as her heart raced with emotion.
A little later Annapurna spoke softly, ‘Didi , please ask Mahin to get up or he’ll stay there
forever.’
Rajlakshmi opened her mouth with difficulty and murmured, ‘Mahin, get up.’
As she said his name, after an age, the tears welled up and rolled down her cheeks. They lightened the burden on her heart. Mahendra rose, knelt on the floor and sat close to his mother. Rajlakshmi turned over with difficulty, took his head in both her hands, fondly breathed in the scent of his hair and kissed his forehead.
Mahendra choked with emotion as he said, ‘Mother, I have hurt you no end—please forgive me.’
Now much calmer, Rajlakshmi said, ‘Don’ t talk that way Mahin—how can I live without forgiving you? Bou-ma—where’s Bou-ma?’
Asha was cooking Rajlakshmi’s food in the next room. Annapurna went and fetched her. Rajlakshmi gestured to Mahendra to get off the floor and to sit upon the bed. When he did so, Rajlakshmi indicated the spot beside him and said, ‘Bou-ma, you sit here—today I want to make you sit beside each other and take my fill of the sight—that’ll ease all my misery. Bou-ma—don’t be shy, and cast away your grudges against Mahin—come and sit here, just for once. Let me feast my eyes, child.’
Asha raised her anchal, veiled her head and bashfully, with a trembling heart and a gentle tread, she came and sat beside Mahendra. Rajlakshmi picked up Asha’s right hand and pressed it into Mahendra’s hand as she said, ‘Mahin, I leave this child of mine in your care—mark my words Mahin, you won’t find a finer woman anywhere. Mejo-bou, come and bless them; let your virtue prove benevolent for them.’
When Annapurna came forward, the couple was in tears as they bent low and touched her feet. She kissed their foreheads and said, ‘May God bless you.’
Rajlakshmi said, ‘Behari, come my son, come here and say you forgive Mahin.’
Instantly, Behari came and stood in front of Mahendra, who drew him to his bosom with a firm pull and held him in a tight embrace.
The Tagore Omnibus, Volume One Page 23
