23

When Annapurna --- she who had renounced the world --- suddenly saw Mahendra arrive after so long, she was at once flooded with tenderness and joy, and at once seized by the fear that some new quarrel had arisen between Mahendra and his mother over Asha, and that Mahendra had come to lay his complaint before her and seek consolation. From childhood, Mahendra had always run to his aunt in every trouble and distress. When he was angry with someone, Annapurna had soothed his anger; when he suffered, she had counselled patience.

But the greatest crisis that had arisen in Mahendra's life since his marriage --- from offering any remedy at all, let alone consolation, she was powerless. In whatever way she tried to intervene, she could only see that the domestic upheaval would be doubled. Once she understood this with certainty, she had renounced the world. As a mother, when a sick child cries for water and the physician has absolutely forbidden it, goes in distress of spirit to another room --- so Annapurna had removed herself to a distant place of pilgrimage.

In the regular observance of religion and piety in her far exile, she had, these past days, in some measure forgotten the world. Had Mahendra now come to reopen those quarrels and wound her hidden sore afresh? But Mahendra raised no complaint about his mother in regard to Asha. Annapurna's fears then took a different turn. The same Mahendra who could not bear to go even to the college without Asha --- why had he come all the way to Kashi in search of his aunt? Could it be that Mahendra's bond with Asha was gradually loosening?

With some anxiety she asked him: "Now Mahin, on your word of honour --- tell me truly --- how is Chuni?" Mahendra said, "She is quite well, Kakima."

"And what does she do these days, Mahin? Are you two still as great children as ever, or have you taken to housekeeping in earnest?" Mahendra said, "Childishness has entirely ceased. That primer --- the source of all our diversions --- has vanished somewhere, never to be found again. If you were here, you would be pleased: Chuni is fulfilling with wholehearted application whatever degree of scholarly indifference a woman may consider her duty."

"Mahin, what is Bihari doing?" Mahendra said, "Everything except his own affairs. His agents and stewards manage his estate; with what degree of fidelity I cannot rightly say. Bihari has ever been thus. His own business he attends to last; other people's affairs he sees to himself." Annapurna said, "Will he not marry, Mahin?" Mahendra smiled faintly and said, "There is no sign of any intention to do so." Hearing this, Annapurna felt a blow in some secret corner of her heart.

She had understood clearly enough that, upon seeing her niece that day, Bihari had eagerly come forward with the wish to marry her, and that his eager desire had been unjustly and suddenly crushed. Bihari had said: "Kakima, never ask me to marry again." That proud and grieving utterance still rang in Annapurna's ears.

She had left behind her that most devoted Bihari of hers in a state of broken spirit, unable to offer him any comfort. Annapurna grew profoundly dejected and troubled, and began to wonder: "Does Bihari's heart still dwell upon Asha?" Mahendra told her all the recent news of their household --- now with a jest, now gravely --- but made no mention whatsoever of Binodini.

College was now in session; there was no question of Mahendra staying long in Kashi. Yet the pleasure that comes with convalescence in a healthy clime after a severe illness --- that pleasure Mahendra found afresh each day in Annapurna's company, and so the days passed one by one. The inner conflict that had been on the verge of taking root in him faded away, seemingly of its own accord. After spending these few days continually in the presence of the devout and serene face of Annapurna, the fulfilment of household duty appeared so natural and agreeable that his earlier anguish seemed to him laughable.

It seemed to him that Binodini was nothing --- he could not even bring her face clearly to mind. At last Mahendra said to himself with great firmness: "I see no one anywhere in the world capable of displacing Asha even a fraction from my heart." Mahendra said to Annapurna, "Kakima, my attendance at college is suffering --- let me take my leave for now. Though you have removed yourself here in renunciation of the world --- still allow me to come from time to time to touch your feet." When Mahendra returned home and gave Asha the offerings her aunt had sent --- a small sindoor box and a little tumbler of white stone --- tears streamed down Asha's face.

Remembering her aunt's boundless, patient love, and reflecting upon how they and her mother-in-law had subjected that solitary ascetic to so many vexations, her heart was overcome. She told her husband: "I long so much to go to my aunt, to ask her forgiveness and take the dust from her feet. Is it altogether impossible?" Mahendra understood Asha's pain, and consented that she should go to Kashi for a little while to be with her aunt.

But he felt a reluctance at the thought of missing more college in order to accompany her. Asha said, "Your uncle and aunt will be going to Kashi shortly --- would it not do to go with them?" Mahendra went to Rajlakshmi and said, "Mother, my wife wishes to go to Kashi to visit her aunt." Rajlakshmi replied with acid sweetness, "If the mistress wishes to go, by all means she shall go. Take her yourself." That Mahendra had resumed his visits to Annapurna did not please Rajlakshmi in the least.

The proposal that his wife should go there vexed her still further inwardly. Mahendra said, "I have my college --- I cannot take her and leave her there. She will go with her uncle." Rajlakshmi said, "That is excellent, of course. Her uncle and aunt are grand people --- they never so much as glance at the shadow of simple folk like us. What a distinction to travel with them." His mother's mounting sarcasm hardened and bent Mahendra's will absolutely.

Without making any reply, he left, resolving firmly to send Asha to Kashi. When Bihari came to call upon Rajlakshmi, she said to him, "Bihari, have you heard? Our daughter-in-law has expressed a wish to go to Kashi." Bihari said, "What do you mean, Mother --- is Mahinda going to miss college again and travel to Kashi?" Rajlakshmi said, "No, no --- why should Mahin go? That would be hardly the fashionable thing. Mahin stays here; his wife goes to Kashi with her grand uncle. Everyone has turned English gentleman and lady." Bihari felt a private unease --- not, however, about the modern fashion for English ways.

He thought to himself: "What is the meaning of all this? When Mahendra went to Kashi, Asha stayed here; now that Mahendra has returned, Asha wishes to go. Some serious matter has occurred between them. How long can this go on? And we, their friends --- can we only stand at a distance and do nothing?" Stung by his mother's behaviour, Mahendra was sitting in his bedroom.

Binodini had not yet met with Mahendra since his return --- so Asha was requesting her, from the next room, to come and join them. At that moment Bihari came and asked Mahendra, "Has it been settled that Asha-bouthan is going to Kashi?" Mahendra said, "Why should it not be settled? What objection is there?" Bihari said, "Who is speaking of objections? But why has this fancy come into your heads so suddenly?" Mahendra said, "A longing to see one's aunt --- yearning for a kinsman in exile --- such things happen in human life from time to time." Bihari asked, "Are you going with her?" The moment he heard the question, Mahendra thought: "Bihari has come to argue that it is not proper to send Asha with her uncle." Fearing that to speak further would cause his temper to boil over, he answered briefly: "No." Bihari knew Mahendra.

He could see that he was angry. He also knew that once Mahendra had set his will on a course, he could not be moved from it. So he did not raise the question of Mahendra's going. He thought to himself: "If poor Asha is departing under some weight of pain, the company of Binodini would comfort her." And so he said quietly, "Would it not do if Binodin-bouthaan went with her?" Mahendra thundered: "Bihari --- say plainly the thing that is in your mind. There is no need for indirectness with me. I know what you suspect inwardly --- that I love Binodini. It is false. I do not. You need not go about mounting guard over me. Guard yourself. If your friendship for me had been straightforward, you would long ago have told me what was in your heart, and removed yourself far from my inner household. I tell you to your face: you are in love with Asha." When a man treads with both feet upon a place of extreme pain, the wounded person, in the first instant and without thought, tries to push the aggressor away with all his strength.

So Bihari, his voice strangled, rose ashen-faced from his chair and lurched toward Mahendra --- then stopped short, and forcing the words out with great difficulty, said: "God forgive you --- I take my leave." And he stumbled out of the room.

From the next room, Binodini rushed out and called, "Bihari-brother-in-law!" Bihari leaned against the wall, attempted a small smile, and said, "What is it, Binodin-bouthaan?" Binodini said, "Brother-in-law --- I shall go to Kashi along with chokher bali." Bihari said, "No, no, bouthan --- that will not do, it cannot be. I implore you --- do not act on my account. I belong to no one here --- I wish to interfere in nothing here; no good will come of it. You are a goddess --- do whatever you yourself feel is right. I am going." With that, Bihari bowed to Binodini with great humility and moved to leave.

Binodini said, "I am no goddess, brother-in-law --- hear me out. If you go away, no one will benefit. Do not blame me for what comes after." Bihari departed.

Mahendra sat as though turned to stone. Binodini flung at him a single glance --- hard and blazing as a thunderbolt --- and went into the next room. There Asha was dying of shame and embarrassment. To hear from Mahendra's own lips that Bihari loved her --- she could not raise her face. But Binodini had no pity to spare for her. Had Asha looked up in that moment, she would have been frightened. Binodini was possessed, as it seemed, by a murderous rage against the whole of creation.

False indeed! No one loves Binodini! And everyone loves this simpering doll --- this creature made of shame and cream! When, in a moment of heated feeling, Mahendra had cried out "I am a wretch" to Bihari, and then, once that emotion had subsided, had since that involuntary self-disclosure felt a constraint before Bihari --- he thought all his private state had been laid bare.

He did not love Binodini; yet Bihari had drawn the conclusion that he did --- and this had bred in Mahendra a profound irritation toward him. In particular, every time Bihari had appeared before him since, it had seemed as though Bihari were curiously ferreting out something hidden in him. This accumulated irritation had been mounting --- and today it had burst out at a small provocation. But that Binodini had rushed so urgently from the next room, had pleaded so desperately for Bihari to stay, and had stood ready to accompany Asha to Kashi in what seemed an act of obedience to Bihari's wish --- all of this was to Mahendra entirely without precedent.

This scene struck him with overwhelming force. He had declared that he did not love Binodini; but what he now heard and saw would not allow him to be still --- it tormented him from every side with a thousand shapes of anguish. And with helpless, futile remorse the thought kept recurring: "Binodini has heard --- I have said that I do not love her."