Stories on Women

by Premchand

  But the tribulations had not ended. Leela was busy with all the arrangements for the rites, and nobody else bothered about cleaning up the house. On the third day, both the children went into the living room, crying for their grandparents. There was a slice of watermelon and a few mangoes kept on a ledge in the room. Flies were humming over them. Janki climbed on to a stool to reach them and then they sat down to eat them together. By evening both children were struck with cholera; before long their parents were left weeping. The house was enveloped in darkness. Where only three days ago there had been so much clamour, now a pall of gloom had descended; one could not even hear the sound of anyone crying. Who was there to cry? There were only two souls left. And they were too numb to weep.

  4

  Leela’s failing health had made her almost lifeless by now. She didn’t have the strength to even get up and sit. She seemed lost all the time, taking no interest either in getting dressed or eating. She appeared to be detached from the home as well as the world outside it. If she sat down somewhere, she would remain sitting. Months went by before she changed her clothes or oiled her hair. The children had been the sole reason for her to live. With them gone, life and death seemed the same. Day and night she prayed to God to rid her of this existence. She had experienced both joy and sorrow; now she had no more desires. But has death ever responded to one’s call?

  At first Sitasaran too wept a lot every now and then; he would even run away from the house. But as the days passed by, his grief for his children ebbed; it is perhaps the mother who feels the most pain at losing a child to death. Slowly he was able to collect himself. He began to laugh and joke with his friends like before. The ones closest to him would rally around his spirits even more. He was now the master of the house and free to do what he wanted. There was no one to stop him. He began gallivanting all over the place. If once his eyes had welled up with tears at the sight of Leela crying, now he would get irritated looking at her immersed in grief. Life was not meant for crying. God had given them children and it was He who had snatched them away. ‘Does that mean that we also give up living?’ Leela was shocked to hear this. How could a father utter such words? There seemed to be all kinds of people in this world!

  It was the time of Holi. There was much singing and dancing in the men’s quarters. A lot of people had been invited for the celebration. Leela was flat on the floor, weeping. She was always reduced to tears when festivals came. If the children had been alive they would have put on new clothes and how they would have romped around! Without them, what festival could they celebrate, what fun could they have?

  All at once Sitasaran came in and said, ‘Are you going to spend the entire time weeping? Why don’t you change your clothes, look more respectable? What have you done to yourself?’

  Leela replied, ‘You go back to your raucous mehfil, what do you care about me.’

  ‘Are you the first to have lost children? Are you the only one to face such tribulations?’

  ‘This we all know. Everyone copes in their own way. How can we control what we feel?’

  ‘Don’t you have any duty towards me?’

  Leela looked at her husband in bewilderment, clueless about what he meant. Then she averted her face and resumed crying.

  ‘I want to put an end to this gloom. If you don’t have any control over your heart, then neither do I. I can’t spend my whole life mourning.’

  ‘You go ahead with your fun and games, I’m not stopping you! Why do you stop me from crying?’

  ‘My house is not for weeping.’

  ‘Very well, I will not weep in your house.’

  5

  Leela could see her husband slipping out of her hands. He had fallen prey to his lust and there was no one who could talk him out of it. He seemed to have lost his senses. She wondered what she could do. If she left, the house would crumble and her husband would be like so many other rich young men trapped in the clutches of his selfish friends. Some slut or the other would enter the house and ruin him completely. Oh God! What should I do? Were he to fall ill would I forsake him? Never. I would tend to him with all my being, pray to God, plead with the heavenly powers. Agreed that he is not physically ill but he is definitely mentally sick. If a man cries when he has to laugh and laughs when he should be crying, then is there any doubt that he is mad? If I leave him, he will be destroyed. It’s my duty to rescue him.

  Yes, I will have to forget my sorrow. Cry I will, for tears are written in my fate—so I will cry but through laughter. I will fight my destiny. I can do little else but cry for those who have gone but I will not let go of those who are present. Oh broken heart! Come, let me gather these pieces and make a grave out of you and surrender my grief to you. Oh tearful eyes, hide my tears behind a halo of laughter. Come, my ornaments, for long have I spurned you, forgive me for this offence. You have been my companion in my good times, on wonderful journeys, now stay with me in this crisis; don’t betray me. Leela sat up all night talking to herself, while in the men’s quarters it was a total carnival. Drunk out of his senses, Sitasaran would break into song or a fit of clapping. His friends seemed to be painted in the same hue. It seemed that nothing mattered to them but sheer debauchery.

  The last mehfil fell silent. No more of their hoo-ha could be heard. Leela wondered whether the crowd had left or fallen asleep. All at once a hush fell over the house. She went and stood at the doorway and peeped into the drawing room. A flame seared through her veins. The friends had departed. No sign of the socialites either. Just a beauty lying on the couch with Sitasaran bent over her, whispering softly into her ear. What was in their minds was clear from their expressions. One’s eyes sparkled with interest; the other’s leered. Thus is an innocent robbed by maya as beauty incarnate. Leela’s possessions were being robbed right under her nose by a bewitching trickster. Leela was so infuriated that she wanted to grab the slut with both hands then and there, snub her so soundly that she would never forget it and throw her out of the house. Those wifely feelings which had lain dormant for so long reawakened and agitated her. But she curbed herself. Surging desires cannot be dammed all of a sudden. She retraced her steps to the house, calmed her mind and thought to herself—In form and beauty, in feminine wiles, I cannot match this evil one. She’s like a piece of the moon, every part of her sparkles, every pore of her is intoxicating. Her eyes are so full of thirst, indeed, not thirst but a volcano! Leela went right to a mirror. After many months she looked at herself. A sigh escaped her lips. Grief had completely ravaged her body. Next to the seductress she was like a juhi flower beside a rose!

  6

  Sitasaran recovered from his hangover in the evening. When he opened his eyes he saw Leela before him, smiling. His eyes soaked in this rare image of Leela. He felt a thrill, as if he was meeting her after a long separation. How could he know how much she had wept while adorning herself, how many tears she had shed when she wove those flowers into her tresses. With reawakened desire he arose and embraced her. Smiling, he said, ‘Today you have adorned yourself with so many weapons that there seems to be nowhere to run.’

  Leela laid a finger on her heart and said, ‘Stay here. You are always running away, now I will keep you captive. You’ve enjoyed the pleasures of exotic flowers, now look at the ones inside these dark rooms.’

  Shamefaced, Sitasaran said, ‘Don’t call these dark rooms, Leela! They are overflowing like a divine lake of love.’

  Just then, they heard a friend’s footsteps outside. As Sitasaran began to walk away, Leela caught his hand and said, ‘I won’t let you go.’

  ‘I’ll be right back.’

  ‘I’m afraid that you will leave me.’

  When Sitasaran went outside, his good friend said, ‘Did you spend the entire day sleeping? You seem really pleased. We had decided to go there now, right? She is waiting for you.’

  ‘I’m ready to go but Leela won’t let me.’

  ‘You’re still the same moron. So you’re back in your wife’s clutches! Then what
is it that got you so hot and bothered earlier?’

  ‘Leela had shut me out of the house, so I went here and there seeking refuge. Now she has reopened the gates and is standing at the entrance, calling out to me.’

  ‘Oh come on, how will you find the same pleasure here? No matter how much you adorn the home, can you turn it into a garden?’

  ‘Brother, the home cannot become a garden but it can become heaven. Now I alone know how ashamed I am of my pettiness. She suffered so much grief losing our children that it broke her body and diminished her beauty, and yet she cast it away at just one signal from me. As if this sorrow had never existed in the first place. I know that she can bear a lot of pain. She will protect me above everything else. When she saw that her sorrow was making me suffer, she cast aside her grief entirely. Today when I saw her adorned with ornaments and smiling at me, I was exhilarated. I feel as if she is a Goddess from heaven who has been sent only to protect a weak mortal like me. If I had to sell all my property to take back the cruel words I have uttered to her, I would do it. Truly, Leela is a Goddess from heaven.’

  Translated from the Hindi by Swati Pal

  The Accusation

  Munnu the sweeper cleaned the courtyard and bathroom of Munshi Shyamkishore. After cleaning the house he came to the door and said, ‘Maaji, come and see, I have cleaned the whole place. Will I get to eat something today, if you please?’

  Devi Rani walked towards the door and said, ‘It’s not even been ten days since I paid you. You’re asking so soon again?’

  Munnu asked, ‘What can I do, Maaji? It’s difficult to meet expenses. A sole man, how do I manage both work and household?’

  ‘Then why don’t you get married?’ urged Devi.

  ‘You are young right now. For how long will you remain a bachelor?’ Devi asked, showing concern.

  ‘You have been taking such good care of me; with your blessings something good will happen. Will you help me?’ asked Munnu.

  ‘Yes, I will,’ responded Devi. ‘You find a girl first. I will do whatever I can.’

  ‘Your temper is very agreeable. You look after me so well. Mistresses in other houses don’t even listen or care to talk to us,’ Munnu said in a wheedling tone. ‘Allah has not only given you a lovely face but also a good heart. Only Allah knows, just by looking at you all my thirst and hunger melt away. I have come across many women from affluent households, but they don’t even come close to your sole.’

  ‘You liar! As if I am that beautiful!’

  ‘Now what can I say to you! I see these rich and robust women of big houses, but apart from a fair complexion, they have nothing. They lack this charm, you see.’

  ‘Will one rupee be enough for now?’

  ‘Madam, see if you could spare two rupees.’

  Devi gave him the money and said in a tone of dismissal, ‘All right, take this and go!’

  ‘Yes, Madam! If you don’t mind, can I ask you something?’ Munnu asked solicitously.

  ‘What is it, tell me? But quick, I have to go and light the hearth.’

  ‘Then you carry on, please. I will ask some other time,’ Munnu prepared to go.

  Devi could not help asking, ‘No, no. Tell me, what is it? I am not in a hurry.’

  Munnu asked her, ‘Do you have any relative staying in Dalmandi?’

  ‘No, nobody lives there,’ replied Devi.

  ‘Then it must be some friend,’ Munnu said rather nonchalantly. ‘I usually see your husband walking out of a bungalow.’

  ‘Dalmandi is the locality of prostitutes, no?’

  ‘Yes, Madam, a lot of prostitutes live there, but Sir looks like an innocent man. Does he come back late at night?’

  ‘No, he is back before evening and doesn’t go anywhere after that. Though sometimes he goes to the library . . .’ she said nervously.

  ‘All right, so that must be it, right?’ remarked Munnu. ‘If you get a chance, then caution him not to visit that place at night. No matter how pure a person is at heart, onlookers will always be suspicious.’

  By then Babu Shyamkishore had arrived. Munnu greeted him, picked up his bucket and left.

  Shyamkishore asked, ‘What was Munnu saying?’

  ‘Nothing, he was just going on about himself. He was asking for food. I gave him two rupees. He speaks quite cordially.’

  ‘You are extremely talkative! If you find no one else, then let it be this sweeper. How can you talk to this fool?’ Shyam hissed at her.

  ‘As if I like looking at his face! He’s a poor man. How can I turn my back if he starts crying about his fate?’ Devi hissed back.

  Babu Sahib unfolded a garland of jasmine flowers from his handkerchief and put it around Devi’s neck, but there was no sign of joy on her face. She looked at him from the corner of her eye and said, ‘You like to stroll in Dalmandi quite often these days, isn’t it?’

  Shyam asked surprised, ‘Who? Me?’

  ‘Oh yes, you. You make an excuse of going to the library here, but it’s all about the fun you have there!’

  Shyam made a disgusted face, ‘All lies! Complete rubbish. Who told you all this? This Munnu?’

  ‘Munnu didn’t tell me anything; I am aware of all your whereabouts,’ she said defensively.

  ‘You don’t need to keep an eye on me. Suspicion is a great folly and if you get into this habit, major tragedies can befall. Why would I go to Dalmandi? Do I have someone better off in Dalmandi than you? I am a lover of your intoxicating eyes. Even if a nymph stands before me, I won’t care to notice her. Where is Sharda today?’

  ‘She has gone to play downstairs.’

  ‘Just don’t let her go outside. Cars and carriages are always on the move,’ his tone was a little thoughtful. ‘Who knows what can happen! Just today there was an accident at Ardali Bazar. Three boys were crushed.’

  Devi exclaimed, scandalized, ‘Three boys! That’s catastrophic. Whose vehicle was it?’

  ‘That is not known yet.’ He added quickly, ‘God knows, these flowers look beautiful on you.’

  Devi smiled coyly, ‘Come now, stop this flattery!’

  After three days, Munnu said to Devi, ‘Madam, talks are on about my betrothal. I have full faith in you and I am going ahead with it.’

  Devi asked, ‘Have you seen the girl? How is she?’

  ‘It will be as destined. At least I will get to eat home-made rotis now, otherwise I had to cook on my own,’ moaned Munnu. ‘Thankfully she has a gentle nature. Women in our community are quite frivolous, Madam! It’s hard to find a pious one in a crowd of hundred.’

  ‘You people don’t say anything to your women?’

  ‘What can we say, Madam! We are scared stiff as they complain to our bosses and get us dismissed. Babus keep an eye on these sweeper-women, Madam.’

  Devi giggled, ‘You liar! Are the wives of babus much worse than these sweeper-women?’

  ‘Now, Madam, don’t make me say it,’ said Munnu. ‘I have not seen anyone who can match your impassioned speech. I am a small man, Madam, but had my wife been like the wives of these babus, then even I wouldn’t have felt like talking to them. I haven’t really come across anyone with a face like yours.’

  ‘Oh, you fibber, where did you learn all this sweet talk?’

  Wondering if he had underestimated her, Munnu continued, ‘This is no sweet talk, Madam; I speak the truth. You were standing in front of the window one day. Raza Miyan’s glance fell upon you. He is the owner of a big shoe shop. Allah has bestowed him with wealth and heart alike! He lowered his eyes the moment he saw you. Today, while talking to me, he began to sing praises of your face. I said, “Allah has given her a face as beautiful as her heart.”’

  Devi asked, ‘All right, is he that tall, dusky young man?’

  Munnu confirmed, ‘Yes, Madam, that’s him. He said to me that if only he could get another glimpse of you, but I scolded him and said, “Don’t you dare speak to me like that. You don’t have a chance here.”’

  ‘You did the right thi
ng. May that blockhead lose his eyes!’ cried Devi. ‘Whenever he passes by, his eyes are always on the window. Let him know that he better not raise his eyes here.’

  Munnu reassured her, ‘I have already said that, Madam; now I should leave. Is there anything else to be cleaned? It’s time for sir to come home. If he sees me here, he will say, “What nonsense is he talking again?”’

  Devi pleaded, ‘Take these rotis. This will save you from the effort of cooking today.’

  Munnu went away murmuring, ‘May Allah keep you safe! I feel like staying close to this door and eating whatever crumbs come my way. Seriously, the moment I see you, my hunger and thirst disappear.’

  Munnu was just leaving when Munshi Shyamkishore arrived upstairs. His last sentence reached his ears. As soon as Munnu left, Babu Sahib said to Devi, ‘I had asked you not to entertain Munnu, but you don’t listen to me. People like him take the news of one house to another; one should never talk to these people. What was that about hunger and thirst disappearing?’

  Devi mumbled, ‘I don’t know, what hunger and thirst? There wasn’t any such talk.’

  ‘How is that so? I clearly heard it myself,’ he said sharply.

  Devi replied in an exhausted voice, ‘I don’t seem to remember. Must be something. As if I sit and listen to everything he says.’

  Shyam said reproachfully, ‘Then does he talk to the walls? Listen, there is a man who just passed by, looking towards the window. A Muslim lad from this neighbourhood. He runs a shoe shop. Why do you keep standing near the window?’

  ‘The shutters are drawn,’ cried Devi.