by Premchand
For a moment, Rupkumari suspected that Ramdulari was telling her tall tales, but Ramdulari’s expression exuded confidence and a sense of failure was clearly apparent on Rupkumari’s face. But Rupkumari knew that if she did not want to lose her sanity completely, she would have to first extinguish the fire of jealousy in her heart. Hence, as a way of reassuring herself, she decided to concede that only one-fourth of whatever Ramdulari had said was true; anything more than that would have been too unbearable for Rupkumari to accept. However, at the same time, her heartbeat raced at the nagging fear that what Ramdulari had said might be the actual truth. She was afraid she might burst into tears at any moment. What a great difference there was between the seventy-five rupees that her husband earned and the income of five hundred rupees of Ramdulari’s husband! She could not reconcile herself to the huge figure even if it were possible to earn that much as a result of self-abasement. At most, one’s self can be valued at a hundred, but not five-hundred at any rate!
Mockingly, Rupkumari asked, ‘Well, now that agents are earning so much money and other allowances, why don’t all the colleges shut down? Why are thousands of boys wasting their lives in higher studies?’
Ramdulari, who was inwardly drawing pleasure from her sister’s discomfiture, responded, ‘Sister, now you are making a mistake. Anyone can get through the MA examination, but only a few can work as agents. It’s God’s gift. One may study for a lifetime, but it’s not necessary that he can work effectively as an agent. To be a scholar is one thing, but moneymaking is a different thing altogether. It is not easy to win the customer’s confidence about the quality of your products and to convince them that you’re selling the cheap and best wares! As an agent, he has to deal with all sorts of customers. One has to perform convincingly before rich men—only then do goods get traded. These rich men and nobles are inaccessible to an ordinary person; and if by some stroke of luck, such a person happens to gain access to their presence, he is unable to speak, almost boggled. In the beginning, my husband also used to hesitate, but now he is as clever as a crocodile in his trade. Next year, he is going to get a promotion.’
It was as though the blood in Rupkumari’s veins had ceased to flow. Why doesn’t the cruel sky fall down and the stone-hearted earth explode at such brutal injustice? What kind of justice was it that, Rupkumari—who was so beautiful, well mannered, hard-working, so devoted to her husband and affectionate to her children that she valued them more than her life, so economical that she managed the household within the meagre earnings—should be in such a pitiable condition, whereas Ramdulari—who was proud, arrogant, impolite, a pleasure seeker and an impulsive girl who used to roam around with untidy hair—was now living like a queen? Yet, there was a faint trace of hope left in her. Perhaps she would find a way to regain her peace of mind in the future.
Then Rupkumari replied mockingly, ‘So, perhaps your husband will start getting a thousand rupees?’
‘Not a thousand rupees, but undoubtedly six hundred.’
‘Some befuddled employer must have been caught in this trap!’
‘Businessmen are no fools, sister! They are far wiser than you and me. If you give them a benefit of six thousand rupees, only then are you likely to get six hundred. Who can fool the likes of those who are experts in fooling the whole world?’
Seeing that mere sarcasm was not working, Rupkumari deployed the weapon of insult, and argued, ‘I don’t consider it a very good profession. For the whole day, one primarily lies and cheats. It is nothing but trickery.’
Ramdulari laughed loudly. She realized that she had completely overwhelmed her sister.
‘In that way, all lawyers and barristers too are cheats. What do they not do for their clients? They even have to create false evidence. But we make the same lawyers and barristers our leaders, elect them as presidents of our national conferences, pull their vehicles, shower flowers and gold coins on them, name roads, institutions and build statues after them. Today, the world reveres money. It has always been like that. No one bothers to think about the means by which the money is earned. Whoever has money is worshipped, whereas people who are unfortunate, incapable and incompetent, console themselves with the idea of spirituality and righteousness. But who really cares about such virtues?’
At this, Rupkumari fell silent. Now she had to admit to the truth, with all its pain and agony, that Ramdulari was more fortunate than her. Now there was no escape. To continue criticizing and insulting Ramdulari would yield no fruit; rather, it would only exhibit her own narrowness of mind. Now she had to visit Ramdulari’s house on some pretext to find out the reality. If Lakshmi, the Goddess of wealth, had blessed Ramdulari, then Rupkumari had no option but to grieve over her own misfortune. She would understand that justice did not exist in this world and that honesty had no value.
But would this explanation satisfy her? And in any case, who was honest in this world? Only the person who could not grab an opportunity to act dishonestly or the one who was not intelligent enough to create such an opportunity. Her husband, who earned seventy-five rupees only, wouldn’t he feel happy to get ten or twenty rupees more? He would remain honest and truthful only until the moment he found an opportunity to become corrupt. His whole truthfulness would evaporate at the first temptation which might come along his way. Moreover, was Rupkumari morally strong enough to prevent her husband from using the ill-gotten gains? Far from stopping him, she would be pleased instead. Perhaps she may even pat her husband’s back in encouragement. Presently, she sits without any enthusiastic anticipation of her husband returning home from the office. Then, closer to his return, she keeps a vigil at the door, awaiting his arrival, and the moment he reached, she would start searching his pockets.
There was singing in the courtyard. Ramdulari was singing joyously. Rupkumari was sitting disconsolate on the veranda. Who knows why her head had started aching? Whether someone was singing or dancing, Rupkumari was indifferent to the cheerful environment. She was unfortunate, born only to weep.
The guests started leaving at nine. Rupkumari also got up. She was going to order a horse cart when Ramdulari said, ‘Sister, why send for a horse cart? My car must be coming here to take me home. Spend four or five days at my home before returning to your own. I shall send a message to your husband not to wait for you.’
And so Rupkumari’s last weapon also failed. She now lost all desire to find out the reality of Ramdulari’s household situation. Now she would go to her own home and cover her face, and lie down, brooding. And, how could she visit her sister’s house in such shabby clothes?
Rupkumari said, ‘No, I am not free right now. The children must be worried. I shall come some other day.’
‘Won’t you stay even for a single night?’
‘No.’
‘Okay, please tell me when you can come. I shall send you the car.’
‘I will let you know.’
‘You will forget. A year passed and you did not care enough to remember me, even by mistake, and I was waiting to receive an invitation from you. Even though we live in the same city, we don’t see each other for months.’
Rupkumari had no other option but to say that her home kept her very busy and that she had thought of inviting Ramdulari quite a few times, but failed to find an opportunity to do so.
Just then Ramdulari’s husband, Gurusevak, arrived and greeted his sister-in-law. Dressed exactly like an Englishman, a cigar in his mouth, a gold watch on his wrist and gold-framed spectacles shielding his eyes, as if he was a civilian. His face exhibited gentlemanliness and worldly wisdom. Rupkumari had never imagined he would be so handsome. His clothes fitted him very well indeed.
Blessing him, Rupkumari said, ‘How could I have met you had I not come here today!’
Gurusevak said laughingly, ‘You are wrongly blaming me. Did you ever invite me home and I did not come?’
‘I never thought you would consider yourself a guest in my house, for it is as much yours.’
Ramdulari w
as watching how, despite being jealous in her heart, Rupkumari was speaking in such a sweet, affectionate and courteous tone.
Gurusevak replied in a generous tone, ‘Now I agree, bhabhi sahib. It is certainly my fault. I never thought that way. But you have to stay at my home today.’
‘No, today I have no time. I’ll come some other day. The boys must be getting anxious.’
Ramdulari said, ‘I too requested her a lot, but she just doesn’t agree.’
Eventually, both the sisters seated themselves in the rear seat of the car, while Gurusevak drove. In a few minutes, they reached the house. Ramdulari again requested her sister to stay the night, but her efforts were in vain. After all, the children would be anxious. At last, Ramdulari hugged her and took leave. Gurusevak carried on driving. Rupkumari cast a fleeting glance on Ramdulari’s house and the true fact of prosperity cut her to the quick.
After covering a little distance, Gurusevak said, ‘Bhabhi, I have chosen a good career for myself. If the work continues to progress like this for three or four years, I will become a prosperous man.’
Rupkumari said sympathetically, ‘Ramdulari told me. May God keep you happy wherever you are. But you should move ahead cautiously.’
‘Bhabhi, I consider it a sin to take even a single rupee without the knowledge of my employer. One can enjoy wealth only when it is honestly earned. To earn money at the cost of one’s respect is of no value. I consider such wealth unworthy. Further, who do I have to fear? I’m in charge of the whole operation. My employer is no more, only his widow lives and she has entrusted the charge of everything to me. Had I not managed the affairs of her business, she would have lost it. It was my third month in the business when my employer passed away. But he knew how to assess a person. I was hired at a hundred rupees, but the very next month, my salary was hiked to two hundred. With all your blessings, I amplified the business to the tune of twelve thousand in the very first month.’
Without any motive, Rupkumari asked, ‘What is the nature of your work?’
‘I work as an agent where different types of machines are imported and later sold,’ he replied calmly.
They reached Rupkumari’s dingy house. A lantern was dimly lit outside the door. Her husband, Umanath, was strolling at the door. But Rupkumari did not insist Gurusevak to come out of the car—she only invited him in once, merely as a formality. And as for Umanath, he did not even bother to greet Gurusevak.
Rupkumari’s house felt a graveyard to her now, a symbol of misfortune. There was no flooring, nor any furniture or flower pots. All it had were a few broken stools, a broken table and some old cots. Till that morning, Rupkumari had been happy in that house. But now, it was grating on her nerves. The boys yelled out in excitement, ‘Mother, Mother!’ and ran towards her but she indifferently scolded them. Her head was aching. She wouldn’t talk to anyone nor would she entertain any kind of disturbance. Dinner was still uncooked. Who else would have cooked it? The children had had milk, but Umanath hadn’t taken anything yet. He was waiting for Rupkumari to return and cook. But Rupkumari’s head was aching. So the only option left was to get puris from the market.
Rupkumari asked angrily, ‘Why were you waiting for me till now? I wasn’t brought here as your cook! And what if I had stayed there at night? Why don’t you keep a cook? Or would you keep grinding me all my life?’
Startled and hurt, Umanath looked at his wife, unable to decipher the reason for her unusual behaviour. He had always received wholehearted cooperation from her. Not only cooperation, but also unstinting support. In fact, he had himself proposed many times that they engage a cook, but she would constantly refuse by saying, ‘What will I do sitting idle? Why should we add an unnecessary expense of four or five rupees? That much money could be spent in getting butter for the children.’
And today, she was spitefully taunting him, as if filled with resentment.
Defending himself, he said, ‘I’ve suggested to you several times that we should keep a cook.’
‘Then why didn’t you engage one? If I had turned her out once she was appointed, then you could complain!’
‘Well, then I’m at fault.’
‘You never proposed this wholeheartedly,’ Rupkumari retorted more angrily. ‘You only said this to please me. I am not such a simpleton that I don’t understand your inner motives. You never thought of my comfort. You were happy to have a servant at your disposal, one who was satisfied with little food and a few clothes, and that too, when there was some money left over after all the household expenses. You place the petty amount of seventy-five rupees in my hand, out of which I am supposed to manage all sorts of expenses. Only I know how I make both ends meet. I am troubled with the thought of what I should wear! You have ruined my life! There are men in this world who pluck stars from the sky for the sake of their wives’ happiness. Why go far, look at Gurusevak! He is less educated than you are and even younger than you, but still earns five hundred rupees a month and Ramdulari lives like a queen. But you are satisfied with the petty amount of seventy-five rupees, and busy in your own world. What kind of a man are you, you should’ve been born a woman. A woman’s heart is filled with countless desires and wishes. But you are not bothered about me. You have no problems. You want to have good food to eat and good clothes to wear just because you are a man, the sole earner, but you don’t give a damn about how I exist.’
This verbal volley of abuses continued for a few minutes while Umanath remained silent. In his whole life, he had never given Rupkumari a chance to complain. It was undeniable that he got only a small amount as salary, but he was helpless in this matter. He did his work faithfully and tried his best to stay in the good books of his officers. This year, he had taught the head officer’s younger son for six months without a break only to please him. What else could he do? He understood the reason behind Rupkumari’s rage. If Gurusevak was indeed drawing five hundred rupees as salary, then he was definitely a fortunate man. But one does not break one’s head at other’s good fortune! Gurusevak might have been fortunate enough to get this opportunity, but not everyone was so lucky. He would investigate whether Gurusevak was actually getting five hundred rupees or was it just a hoax. But even if he was getting that much money, how did it give Rupkumari the right to insult and abuse Umanath? What if he too started abusing and taunting his wife the same way, finding a more beautiful and generous woman? Of course, Rupkumari was beautiful, soft-spoken and self-sacrificing, but surely there are other women in the whole world who surpass her in all these qualities? So should he start disrespecting her for this reason?
There was a time when no other woman was as beautiful as Rupkumari in his eyes in the whole world. But that feeling no longer existed. A long time had passed since he had emerged from that romantic world into a more practical one. Now, he had gained experience of married life. They were now familiar with each other’s virtues and flaws. Contentment was the only way for them to stay happy. But Rupkumari, despite being wise, had failed to understand such a simple truth.
Still, he sympathized with Rupkumari. He was good-hearted and an imaginative person. So, he remained silent at Rupkumari’s angry outburst and swallowed it without complaint. It was natural for Rupkumari to get disturbed for a moment seeing the lavishness of her sister’s life. Rupkumari was no ascetic or self-denying person to stay happy under every condition.
Convincing himself thus, Umanath resolved to investigate the matters of Gurusevak.
2
For about a week, Rupkumari remained distraught.
She would get irritated at every trifle, scold the boys, curse her husband and bemoan her fate. She did the household chores as usual, but not wholeheartedly; now they seemed a burden to her. She was no longer preoccupied with the cleaning and maintenance of those things that she had once developed an emotional attachment with and upon which she used to lavish so much attention. There was only one servant in the house. When he saw that Rupkumari hardly cared about managing the household, why should he
bother to clean it? Chaos and disorder ruled the house—who would care to bring order? The children were afraid of talking to their mother, whereas Umanath would evade her very shadow. Whatever was served, Umanath would silently gulp it down and leave for his office. After returning from the office, he would take both his children for a walk. Speaking to Rupkumari was like wilfully setting a spark to an explosive. But his investigation of Gurusevak continued.
One day, when Umanath returned from his office, Gurusevak was accompanying him. That day, after many days, Rupkumari had finally reconciled with the situation and was dusting chairs and tables, when Gurusevak entered and greeted her. She burnt with anger upon seeing him with Umanath and bit back the urge to scratch her husband’s face. Why had he brought Gurusevak home with no prior notice? What would Gurusevak be thinking after seeing her in this condition? But Umanath had always lacked brains. Despite all her efforts to conceal her sad plight, Umanath was himself exposing the reality of their circumstances. He was shameless. Who knows what she had done to Umanath for him to keep on insulting her?
After giving him her blessings, she asked Gurusevak after the well-being of his family and offered him a chair to sit. Sitting down, he said, ‘Today bhai sahib has invited me home. I would not have come on his invitation but when he said that you were insisting, I spared some time to come here.’
Rupkumari diverted him by saying, ‘That day I couldn’t talk to you as I was preoccupied.’
Gurusevak, glancing around the room, remarked, ‘You must be facing great difficulty living in this cage.’
Rupkumari realized that he was very inconsiderate and insensitive, with no regard for others’ feelings. She thought, He doesn’t even understand that not all people are fortunate enough in this world. Only one among lakhs is lucky, and if it were not so, how else would he stand out as an exception, as the fortunate one? Where most people don’t even have enough to eat, what greatness could there be in the pleasure and prosperity of the few? In contrast, their extravagance is a sign of their impudence and insolence rather than of their fortune.’
