55

After Rajlakshmi's death, when all the funeral rites were done, Mahendra said, "My friend Bihari --- I am a doctor. Take me into the work you have begun. Chuni has become such a mistress of a household that she too could help you in many ways. We shall all live there together."

"Mahin-da," said Bihari, "think carefully. Will this work truly suit you through all the years to come? In a moment of renunciation and fervour, do not take on a permanent burden."

"Bihari," said Mahendra, "you too must think: the life I have fashioned for myself cannot be lived in idleness and mere enjoyment any longer. If I do not pull it forward through some purposeful work, it may one day pull me down into inertia. You must make a place for me in your work." And so it was settled.

Annapurna and Bihari sat together in gentle, melancholy reminiscence, speaking of days that were past. The time of their parting was drawing near. Binodini came to the door and said, "Kakima --- may I sit here for a little while?"

"Come in, come in, my dear --- sit down," said Annapurna.

Binodini sat down, and after exchanging a few words with her, Annapurna went to the veranda on the pretext of folding up the bedding.

"Tell me now what your command is for me," said Binodini to Bihari.

"You tell me, Bouthaan," said Bihari.

"What do you yourself wish to do?"

"I have heard," said Binodini, "that you have taken a garden by the Ganges for the treatment of the poor. I will do some work there for you. If nothing else, I can cook."

"Bouthaan," said Bihari, "I have thought much about this. In all the upheaval of our lives, many knots have tangled in the net. Now the time has come to sit quietly and undo them, one by one. First, all must be made clear. I no longer dare to indulge what the heart desires. All that has happened until now, all that has been endured --- until I can still the turning and tossing of it all, I cannot make myself ready for the end of this life's journey. If all the past had been otherwise, then only through you could my life have been made complete --- now I must be deprived of you. Now to seek happiness is useless; all one can do now is slowly mend what has been broken." At this moment Annapurna came back into the room, and Binodini said, "Mother --- you must give me a place at your feet. Do not push away this sinner."

"Come, my dear," said Annapurna.

"Come with me." On the day that Annapurna and Binodini were to leave for Kashi, Bihari found a moment alone with Binodini.

"Bouthaan," he said, "I wish to keep something of yours near me --- some token."

"What is there of mine," said Binodini, "that could be kept as a token?" Bihari said, with some embarrassment and hesitation, "There is an English custom --- to keep a lock of a dear person's hair in remembrance. If you would---"

"Shame --- what a thought," said Binodini.

"What will you do with my hair? That impure, dead thing --- it is no part of me that I could give to you. I am wretched --- I cannot remain with you in your work. I wish to give you something that will do your work in my stead --- will you take it?"

"I will," said Bihari.

Thereupon Binodini untied the end of her sari and placed two banknotes of a thousand rupees each in Bihari's hand. Bihari looked steadily at Binodini's face with a depth of feeling. After a moment he said, "Can I give you nothing in return?"

"Your token is with me already," said Binodini.

"It is the ornament of my body --- no one can take it from me. I need nothing more." And she showed him the scar cut into her own hand.

Bihari stood in astonishment.

"You do not know," said Binodini.

"This is your wound --- and it is a wound worthy of you. Even now you cannot take it back." Despite Maasima's counsel, Asha had not been able to make her heart wholly free of Binodini.

The two of them had worked side by side at Rajlakshmi's bedside, but whenever Asha saw Binodini, a pain struck her in the breast --- words did not come easily to her lips, and the effort to smile was a torment. Any small service from Binodini --- her whole heart recoiled from receiving it. Binodini's prepared paan, received many times out of politeness, was thrown away behind closed doors. But now, when the hour of farewell arrived --- when Asha's heart was wet with grief at Maasima's second departure from the household --- in that same flood of feeling, compassion for Binodini too arose in her.

There are few hearts hard enough not to forgive one who is departing for ever. Asha knew that Binodini had loved Mahendra; and why should she not have loved him? How irresistible is the love of Mahendra --- Asha knew that from her own heart. In that pain of her own love, a great pity for Binodini came to her today. Binodini was leaving Mahendra for ever --- the unspeakable grief of it was something Asha could not wish even upon her worst enemy. Tears came to her eyes at the thought; and she had once loved Binodini --- that earlier love touched her now.

She came slowly towards Binodini and in a voice of the deepest tenderness, full of sorrow, said quietly, "Didi --- are you going?" Binodini took Asha's chin gently in her hand and said, "Yes, sister --- my time to go has come. Once upon a time you loved me --- in your days of happiness, keep just a little of that love for me. And forget all the rest." Mahendra came and prostrated himself before her.

"Sister-in-law," he said, "forgive me." Two tears traced their way slowly down from the corners of his eyes.

"You too must forgive me, Thakurpo," said Binodini.

"May God grant you both lasting happiness."