Eight

Though Nirmala had no respite from the entanglements of her own household, she could not bring herself to stay away once the news of Krishna's marriage reached her. Her mother had pressed her insistently to come. The strongest attraction of all was that Krishna was being married into the very same house where Nirmala's own marriage had first been arranged. The astonishing thing was that this time these people had agreed to the match without taking any dowry at all. Nirmala was filled with worry on Krishna's account. She thought to herself — like me, she too will be hung round somebody's neck. She had wished very much to be of some help to her mother, so that a worthy groom might be found for Krishna; but with the lawyer having withdrawn from his practice and the moneylender having filed his suit, her own hands too were now tied. In such a state, this news brought her great relief. She made ready to go. The lawyer came to see her off at the station. He was deeply fond of the little girl, and would not let her go — so much so that he was ready to set out along with Nirmala. But for him to settle into his in-laws' house a whole month before the wedding did not seem proper to Nirmala. Until now Nirmala had said nothing of her misfortunes to her mother. What use was there in weeping over what was done, and thereby giving her mother pain and reducing her to tears? So her mother believed that Nirmala was living in great happiness. But now, when she saw Nirmala's face, it was as though a blow struck her heart. Daughters do not return from their in-laws' homes wasted away — least of all a daughter like Nirmala, who had every comfort at her disposal. She had seen so many girls go to their in-laws like the slender crescent of the second day's moon, and return as the full moon. In her mind she had imagined that Nirmala's complexion would have brightened, her body filled out and grown shapely, every limb taking on a new grace. But what she saw now was not even half of what had been. There was none of the restlessness of youth, none of that smiling beauty that captivates the heart. That tenderness, that delicacy which comes from a life of ease — here there was not even a trace of it. The face was sallow, the spirit fallen. The mother asked, "Why, child, did they not give you enough to eat there? You were far better off here. What trouble did you have there?"

Krishna said, laughing, "Was she not the mistress of the house? A mistress has the cares of the whole world upon her — when is she to eat?"

Nirmala said, "No, Mother, the water there did not agree with me. My health stayed heavy."

The mother said, "The lawyer will come for the feast, won't he? Then I shall ask him how he carried off a girl as fresh as a flower and reduced her to this state. Well, now tell me — why did you send money here? I never asked you for any. I may have lost everything I had, but I have no intention of living off my daughter's wealth."

Nirmala asked, astonished, "Who sent money? Mother, I sent none."

The mother said, "Don't tell lies! Did you not send five hundred rupees in banknotes?"

Krishna said, "If she didn't send them, did they fall from the sky? Your name was written plainly on it. The postmark was from there too."

Nirmala said, "I touch your feet and tell you, I did not send any money. When was this?"

The mother said, "Oh, two and a half months ago, it would be. If you didn't send it, where did it come from?"

Nirmala said, "How am I to know? But I did not send any money. In our house, ever since the young son died, no one even goes to the court. My own hands were already tied — where would the money come from?"

The mother said, "This is a most astonishing thing. Is there no kinsman of yours over there? Did the lawyer perhaps send it without telling you?"

Nirmala said, "No, Mother, I do not believe so."

The mother said, "This must be looked into. I have already spent all the money on Krishna's jewellery and clothes. That is the great difficulty now."

A dispute had arisen between the two boys over some matter, and Krishna had gone off to settle it; so Nirmala said to her mother, "When I heard of this marriage I was greatly astonished. How did it come about, Mother?"

The mother said, "Everyone here who hears of it bites his finger in wonder. The very people who broke off a settled match — and only out of greed for a little money — how is it that now they have agreed to marry without taking anything? It passes understanding. They themselves sent a letter. I wrote back plainly that I have nothing to give or to take; I can serve you only with the offering of a daughter, like an offering of kusha grass."

Nirmala said, "Did they not reply to this at all?"

The mother said, "Shastriji took the letter to them. He kept saying that now Munshiji has no wish to take anything. He is even somewhat ashamed of his earlier breach of promise. I had not hoped for such generosity from Munshiji, but I hear that his eldest son is a most worthy man. It was he who reasoned with his father and brought him round."

Nirmala said, "And earlier that gentleman too wanted a fat purse, didn't he?"

The mother said, "Yes, but now Shastriji says he bristles at the very word dowry. I hear he even regretted not making the match here. He gave up the match for money, and he got plenty of money — but he does not care for the woman."

A powerful longing arose in Nirmala's mind to see that man who, having slighted her, now wished to be the rescuer of her sister. Atonement, true enough — but how many beings are there ready to atone in this way? Nirmala's heart grew restless: to speak with him, to reproach him with gentle words, to inflame him still further by showing him her matchless beauty. That night the two sisters slept in the same room. Which girls of the neighbourhood had been married, who had borne children, whose weddings had been celebrated with great pomp, who had got husbands after their own hearts, who had brought what jewellery and how much in the way of gifts — on all these matters the two of them talked far into the night. Krishna kept wishing to ask something about the state of her sister's household, but Nirmala gave her no opportunity. She knew that whatever Krishna asked would embarrass her to answer. At last Krishna did ask, "Brother-in-law will come too, won't he?"

Nirmala said, "He has said he will."

Krishna said, "Is he pleased with you now, or is it still the same as before? I always used to hear that a husband marrying a second time holds his wife dearer than his own life — but there I saw exactly the opposite. After all, what is it he keeps getting upset about?"

Nirmala said, "How am I now to know what is in anyone's heart?"

Krishna said, "I think he must be irritated by your coldness. You left here already burnt and bitter. You must have said something to him there too."

Nirmala said, "That is not it, Krishna. I swear that there is not the least ill-feeling in my heart towards him. So far as I am able, I serve him; even if a god had been in his place, I could have done no more than this. He too loves me. He keeps gazing at my face. But for that which is beyond his power and beyond mine — what can he do, and what can I do? He cannot become young, nor can I become old. To make himself young he is forever swallowing who knows how many tonics and powdered ashes; to make myself old I have given up milk and ghee and everything. I think that by my thinness at least the gap in our ages may be lessened a little — but he gets no benefit from his strengthening foods, nor I from my fasts. Ever since Mansaram passed away, his condition has grown still worse."

Krishna said, "Did you too love Mansaram very much?"

Nirmala said, "He was just such a boy that whoever saw him loved him. Such large, long-lashed eyes I have seen on no one. His face was always blooming like a lotus. So brave was he that, if the occasion came, he would have leapt into fire. Krishna, I tell you, when he came and sat near me I forgot myself. I wished he might sit before me always, and that I might go on looking at him. There was not even the shadow of sin in my heart. If for a single instant I looked at him with any other feeling, let my eyes burst — but I do not know why, seeing him near me my heart could not contain its joy. That is why I made the pretence of studying; otherwise he would not have come into the house at all. This much I know — that had there been sin in his heart, I could have done everything for his sake."

Krishna said, "Oh, sister, hush — what words are these you let escape your lips?"

Nirmala said, "Yes, this is a thing dreadful to hear, and it is dreadful too; but no one can change the nature of a human being. You yourself tell me — if you were married to a man of fifty years, what would you do?"

Krishna said, "Sister, I would swallow poison and lie down. I could not even bear to look at his face."

Nirmala said, "Then understand just this. That boy never once raised his eyes towards me; but old men are suspicious by nature, and your brother-in-law became that boy's enemy and did not rest until he had taken his life. The very day the boy learned that his father harboured suspicion against me, that very day a fever seized him — a fever that did not break until it had taken his life. Alas! That last scene does not leave my eyes. I had gone to the hospital; he lay senseless with fever, without the strength to rise — but the moment he heard my voice he started up and sat erect, and crying 'Mother, Mother,' fell at my feet." (Weeping.) "Krishna, at that moment I felt as though I might draw out my own life and give it to him. He fainted at my very feet and did not open his eyes again. The doctor had proposed putting fresh blood into his body — it was on hearing this that I had come running — but before the doctors could begin that procedure, his life had departed."

Krishna said, "Would fresh blood have saved his life?"

Nirmala said, "Who knows? But I was ready to give the last drop of my own blood. Even in that condition his face shone like a lamp. If, on seeing me, he had not run and fallen at my feet, if some blood had first reached his body, perhaps he might have been saved."

Krishna said, "Then why did you not make him lie down at once?"

Nirmala said, "Oh foolish one, you still have not understood. By falling at my feet and showing the relation of mother and son, he wished to drive that suspicion from his father's heart. It was only for that he had risen. He gave his life to wipe away my sorrow, and that wish of his was fulfilled. From that very day your brother-in-law set himself straight. Now I feel pity at his condition. Grief for his son will not let go of him until it has taken his life. For the injustice he did me in suspecting me, he is now taking his own revenge upon himself. When you see his face this time you will be frightened. He has become an old greybeard; his back too has begun to bend."

Krishna said, "Why are old men so suspicious, sister?"

Nirmala said, "Go and ask the old men that."

Krishna said, "I think there must always be a sort of thief sitting in their hearts, telling them that they cannot keep this young woman content. That is why they begin to suspect at every trifle."

Nirmala said, "Since you know it, why then do you ask me?"

Krishna said, "And for that very reason the poor man must yield to his wife. Onlookers must think — how greatly this man loves her."

Nirmala said, "Where have you learned so many things in so few days? Let these matters be. Tell me — do you like your husband-to-be? You will have seen his photograph?"

Krishna said, "Yes, it had come. Shall I bring it? Will you see it?"

In a moment Krishna fetched the photograph and placed it in Nirmala's hand.

Nirmala said with a smile, "You are very fortunate."

Krishna said, "Mother liked it very much too."

Nirmala said, "Whether you like it or not — that is what you must say. Don't go bringing in other people's opinions."

Krishna said, blushing, "His face and looks are not bad; what his nature is, God knows. Shastriji said that there would be few young men so gentle and of such good character."

Nirmala said, "Did your photograph go from here too?"

Krishna said, "It did go; it was Shastriji himself who took it."

Nirmala said, "Did he like it?"

Krishna said, "How am I to know what is in anyone's heart? Shastriji said he was very pleased."

Nirmala said, "Well, tell me — what gift shall I give you? Tell me now, so that I may have it made."

Krishna said, "Give whatever your heart desires. He is very fond of books. Send for some good books."

Nirmala said, "I am not asking for him; I am asking for you."

Krishna said, "It is for myself that I am saying it."

Nirmala said, looking at the photograph, "His clothes all seem to be of khaddar."

Krishna said, "Yes, he is very fond of khaddar. I hear he loads khaddar on his back and goes off to the villages to sell it. He is skilled at giving lectures too."

Nirmala said, "Then I too shall have to wear khaddar. And you have always disliked coarse cloth."

Krishna said, "When he finds coarse cloth becoming, why should I dislike it? I have even learned to work the spinning wheel."

Nirmala said, "Truly! You spin the thread yourself?"

Krishna said, "Yes, sister, I spin a little here and there. When he is so fond of khaddar, he must surely work the wheel too. If I cannot spin, how ashamed I shall have to be."

Talking in this way, the two sisters fell asleep. At about two in the night the baby girl cried and Nirmala woke. When she looked, Krishna's cot lay empty. Nirmala was surprised that Krishna should have gone off somewhere so late in the night. Perhaps she had gone to drink some water. But the water was kept at the head of the bed — so where had she gone? Two or three times Nirmala called out her name, but there was no sign of Krishna. Then Nirmala grew alarmed. All kinds of fears began to rise in her mind. Suddenly it occurred to her that perhaps Krishna had gone off to her own room. Once the baby had fallen asleep again, Nirmala rose and came to the door of Krishna's room. Her guess was right — Krishna was in her room. The whole house was asleep, and she sat working her spinning wheel. Perhaps she would not have watched a play with such absorption. Nirmala stood amazed. Going inside, she said, "What is this you are doing, girl! Is this the time for spinning?"

Krishna started and sat up, and lowering her head in embarrassment said, "How did your sleep break? I had set out the water for you."

Nirmala said, "I ask you — do you get no time during the day, that you have sat down with the wheel in the dead of night?"

Krishna said, "I get no leisure at all during the day."

Nirmala said, looking at the thread, "The thread is very fine."

Krishna said, "Where, sister — this thread is coarse. I want to spin fine thread and make a turban for him. That shall be my gift."

Nirmala said, "You have thought of a fine thing indeed. What could be more precious than this in his eyes? Well, get up now; spin tomorrow. If you fall ill, all of it will be left undone."

Krishna said, "No, my sister, you go and sleep; I am coming presently."

Nirmala did not press her further, and went off to lie down. But somehow sleep would not come. Seeing Krishna's eagerness and this ardour, her heart was stirred by some unseen longing. Oh! How blossoming her heart must be at this moment. How love had intoxicated her. Then Nirmala remembered her own marriage. From the very day the betrothal-tilak had gone, all her liveliness, all her spiritedness had taken its leave. Sitting in her little room, she would weep over her fate and pray to God that her life might depart. As a guilty one awaits his punishment, so she had awaited her marriage — that marriage in which all the longings of her life would dissolve, when in the sacrificial fire-pit built beneath the wedding canopy her hopes would burn to ashes.

It did not take long for the month to pass. The auspicious hour of the wedding arrived; the house filled with guests. Munshi Totaram came a day earlier, and with him came Nirmala's friend. Nirmala had not pressed her much; she had herself been eager to come. Nirmala's greatest longing was that she would behold the groom's elder brother, and if possible thank him for his good sense.

Sudha said, laughing, "Will you be able to speak with him?"

Nirmala said, "Why, what harm is there in speaking? Now there is quite another relationship between us; and if I cannot speak, why, you are there."

Sudha said, "No, my dear, I shall not be able to. I cannot speak with a strange man. Who knows what kind of men they may be."

Nirmala said, "The man is not bad; and besides, you are not going to marry him — what harm is there in speaking a little? If the doctor were here, I would get you his permission."

Sudha said, "Are those who are generous of heart good in character too? No man feels any shame in staring at another's wife."

Nirmala said, "Very well, do not speak; I shall do the talking myself. Let him stare as much as he can — there, now are you content?"

Just then Krishna came and sat down. Nirmala said with a smile, "Tell me truly, Krishna — why is your mind so distracted at this moment?"

Krishna said, "Brother-in-law is calling. First go and hear him, then chatter as much as you like. He is in a great fret."

Nirmala said, "What is it? Did you not ask?"

Krishna said, "He seems somewhat unwell. He has grown very thin."

Nirmala said, "Then you should have sat a while and diverted his mind. Why did you come running here? Say this — God showed mercy, or else just such a man you too would have got. Go, sit a while and talk. Old men talk in a very flowery way. Young men are not such boasters."

Krishna said, "No, sister, you go; I cannot sit there."

When Nirmala had gone, Sudha said to Krishna, "By now the wedding procession must have arrived. Why is the door-worship not being done?"

Krishna said, "Who knows, sister; Shastriji is gathering the things together."

Sudha said, "I hear the bridegroom's sister-in-law is a woman of very harsh temper."

Krishna said, "How do you know?"

Sudha said, "I have heard it, and so I warn you. You will have to swallow a few things and bear them."

Krishna said, "It is not my habit to quarrel. When she finds no cause for complaint on my side, will she fall out with me for no reason at all?"

Sudha said, "Yes, that is what I have heard. She quarrels over nothing."

Krishna said, "I know but one thing out of a hundred — gentleness softens even a stone into wax."

Suddenly there was a clamour — the procession is coming. The two women came and sat before the window. In a moment Nirmala too arrived.

She was very eager to see the bridegroom's elder brother.

Sudha said, "How shall we know which is the elder brother?"

Nirmala said, "If I ask Shastriji, I would find out. On the elephant is Krishna's father-in-law. Why, how did the doctor get here! Is that he on the horse — don't you see?"

Sudha said, "Yes, it is indeed he."

Nirmala said, "He must be a friend of theirs. There is no relationship, surely."

Sudha said, "If we meet, I shall ask; I know nothing of it."

Nirmala said, "The gentleman sitting in the palanquin does not look like the bridegroom's brother."

Sudha said, "Not at all. It seems his whole body is nothing but belly."

Nirmala said, "Who is sitting on the other elephant — I cannot make him out."

Sudha said, "Whoever he is, he cannot be the bridegroom's brother. Don't you see his age — he must be over forty."

Nirmala said, "Shastriji is busy at this moment with the door-worship, or else I would ask him."

By chance the barber came along. The keys to the trunks were with Nirmala. At this moment some money was needed for the door-ceremony; the mother had sent for it. This barber too had gone with Pandit Moteramji to carry the betrothal-tilak.

Nirmala said, "Is the money wanted at once?"

The barber said, "Yes, sister, come and give it."

Nirmala said, "Very well, I am coming. But first tell me this — do you recognise the bridegroom's elder brother?"

The barber said, "Why should I not recognise him — there he is, before you."

Nirmala said, "Where? I do not see him."

The barber said, "Why, that is he, mounted on the horse. That is the very man."

Nirmala said in astonishment, "What are you saying — the bridegroom's brother is on the horse? Do you really recognise him, or are you guessing?"

The barber said, "Oh, sister, would I forget so much? Why, I have only just come from delivering the refreshments to them."

Nirmala said, "Why, that is the doctor. He lives in my neighbourhood."

The barber said, "Yes, yes, that is the very doctor."

Nirmala said, looking towards Sudha, "Do you hear, sister, what he says?" Sudha, holding back her laughter, said, "He is telling lies."

The barber said, "Very well, madam, let it be a lie; who am I to argue with my betters! I shall have Shastriji asked at once — then will you believe it?"

When the barber was slow in coming, Moteram himself came into the courtyard and began to raise an outcry. "It is in God's hands alone to keep the honour of this house! The barber has been here for an hour, and still the money has not been given."

Nirmala said, "Just step up here, Shastriji — how much money is needed? Let me take it out."

Shastriji came up, grumbling and panting heavily, and drawing a long breath said, "What is it? This is no time for talk. Quickly take out the money."

Nirmala said, "Here, I am taking it out. Am I to fall flat on my face for you? First tell me this — who is the bridegroom's elder brother?"

Shastriji said, "Lord, lord — for such a trifle you have hung me up in the sky! Did the barber not know him?"

Nirmala said, "The barber says that the one mounted on the horse is he."

Shastriji said, "Then whom else should he point out? That is the very man."

The barber said, "I have been saying so this hour past, but the lady will not believe it."

Nirmala, looking towards Sudha with a glance of affection, tenderness, mirth and feigned reproach, said, "So it is you who have been playing this woman's trick on me all this while! Had I known, I would never have invited you here. Oh ho! How deep your belly is! For months you have been playing this mischief on me, and never once, even by mistake, did a single word of this matter escape your lips. I would have boiled over within two or four days."

Sudha said, "If you had known, why would you have come to my house at all?"

Nirmala said, "Mercy upon mercy! I have spoken with the doctor several times. The whole sin of this will fall upon you. See, Krishna, the mischief of your elder sister-in-law! She is such an enchantress — keep on your guard against her."

Krishna said, "Why, I shall wash the feet of such a goddess and set the water upon my forehead. Blessed is my fortune that I have seen her."

Nirmala said, "Now I understand. It was you, no doubt, who had the money sent too. If you shake your head now, then truly I tell you, I shall strike you."

Sudha said, "One does not insult a guest after inviting her to one's house."

Nirmala said, "Just see how I take you to task. To keep your honour I wrote just a line, and you actually came along. Why, what must they be saying back there?"

Sudha said, "I came having told everyone."

Nirmala said, "Now I shall never come to you again. You might at least have given me a hint, that I should keep purdah from the doctor."

Sudha said, "What harm has been done by his merely seeing you? If he had not seen you, how would he have wept over his own fate? How would he have known what a thing he lost by yielding to greed? Now, on seeing you, Lalaji is left wringing his hands. He says nothing aloud, but in his heart he repents his mistake."

Nirmala said, "Now I shall never come to your house again."

Sudha said, "Now there is no shaking me off. Have I not learned the road to your house?"

The door-worship was over. The guests sat taking refreshments. Right beside Munshiji sat Doctor Sinha. Nirmala watched him from the upper room through the screen, and stood with her hand pressed to her heart. The one was a god of health, youth and brilliance; but the other... it is fitting to say nothing on this matter.

Nirmala had seen the doctor hundreds of times, but today the thoughts that rose in her heart had never risen before. Again and again her heart wished that she might call him and rebuke him soundly, fling such taunts at him that he too would remember them, leave him weeping and weeping — but she held back out of pity. The procession had gone to the wedding-party's lodging. Preparations for the feast were under way. Nirmala was busy laying out the platters of food. Suddenly a maidservant came and said, "Bitti, Sudha Rani is calling you. She is sitting in your room."

Nirmala set down the platters and came in agitation to Sudha; but the moment she set foot inside she halted — Doctor Sinha was standing there.

Sudha said with a smile, "Here, sister, I have called him. Now rebuke him as much as you wish. I am standing here blocking the door; he cannot escape."

The doctor said gravely, "Who is escaping? Here I stand with bowed head."

Nirmala said, folding her hands, "Keep this same kindly regard upon us always; do not forget. This is my entreaty."