Chapter Three

Charubala's mother, Manorama, loved playing cards more than anything else in the world. But her passion for the game far exceeded her skill. This shortcoming was remedied, however, whenever Lalita was at hand. She was a very good player. Ever since Manorama’s cousin Girindra had arrived, grand card sessions had been taking place in her room every afternoon these past few days. Girin was a man, and he played well; naturally, if Manorama was to sit opposite him, she simply had to have Lalita.

The day after the theatre visit, seeing that Lalita had not appeared at the usual time, Manorama sent the maid over. Lalita was then translating an English book into Bengali in a thick notebook, and she refused to go.

Even her close friend came but could do nothing. Then Manorama herself arrived, shoved her notebooks and papers aside, and said, 'Come on, get up. You won't have to be a judge when you grow up, but you will definitely have to play cards—let's go.'

Feeling herself in a dreadful predicament, Lalita pleaded on the verge of tears that it was quite impossible for her to go today, but that she would go tomorrow. Manorama would not hear of it; eventually, after informing Lalita's aunt, she dragged her away. Consequently, she had to sit opposite Girin and play cards again today. The game, however, did not quite take off. She could not concentrate on it in the least. She remained stiff and uncomfortable the whole time, and stood up to leave before the afternoon had even faded. As she was leaving, Girin said, 'You sent the money last night but didn't go. Let us go again tomorrow.'

Shaking her head, Lalita replied in a low voice, 'No, I was very ill.'

Girin smiled and said, 'Well, the illness is cured now. Come along, you must go tomorrow.'

'No, no, I won't have the time tomorrow,' Lalita said, making a hasty exit. It was not merely out of fear of Shekhar that she had been unable to concentrate on the game today; she herself was feeling terribly embarrassed.

Just as in Shekhar's house, she had been coming and going in this house since childhood, appearing before everyone as though she were family. That was why she had felt no hesitation from the very beginning in appearing before Charu's uncle or speaking to him. But today, sitting opposite Girin, throughout the entire game she somehow kept feeling that, despite their brief acquaintance of just a few days, Girindra was looking at her with a rather special kind of affection. She had never before imagined that the affectionate gaze of a man could be a source of such profound embarrassment.

After a brief appearance at home, she hurried over to the other house and slipped into Shekhar's room, setting to work at once. From childhood, the small chores of this room had fallen to her. Tidying up the books, arranging the table, dusting and laying out the inkwell and pens—if she did not do these things, no one else would.

Six or seven days of neglect had allowed a great deal of work to pile up; she set to it with a will, determined to remedy all these oversights before Shekhar returned.

Whenever she had the time, Lalita would stay close by, and because she herself never considered anyone a stranger, no one in this house treated her as one either. Having lost her parents at the age of eight, she had come to live in her maternal uncle’s house, and since then, trailing after Shekhar like a little sister, she had grown up learning her letters from him.

Everyone knew she was the object of Shekhar's special affection, but exactly what heights that affection had now reached was something no one knew, not even Lalita. From childhood, everyone had been so accustomed to seeing her receive such boundless indulgence from Shekhar that, to this day, no such indulgence seemed unseemly to anyone, nor did any aspect of their behaviour attract anyone's attention. Because it did not, the possibility that she might one day be established in this household as a bride had never even crossed anyone's mind. It had not crossed anyone’s mind in Lalita’s house, nor had it occurred to Bhubaneswari.

Lalita had planned to finish her chores and leave before Shekhar returned; but being preoccupied, she had paid no attention to the clock. Suddenly hearing the squeak of shoes outside the door, she looked up and stepped aside.

Entering the room, Shekhar said, 'Ah, there you are! So, how late was it when you returned last night?'

Lalita did not reply.

Leaning back on a cushioned armchair and stretching out, Shekhar asked, 'When did you get back? Two o'clock? Three? Why are you not speaking?'

Lalita remained standing in silence just as before.

Annoyed, Shekhar said, 'Go downstairs, Mother is calling you.'

Bhubaneswari was sitting in front of the pantry, arranging the afternoon snacks. Lalita approached her and said, 'Were you calling me, Mother?'

'Why no, I wasn't,' she replied, and looking up at her face, added, 'Why does your face look so drawn, Lalita? Have you not eaten anything yet?'

Lalita shook her head.

Bhubaneswari said, 'Very well, go and give your Dada his food, and then come back to me.'

Bringing the food in her hands a little later, Lalita went upstairs and found Shekhar still lying there with his eyes closed; he had neither changed out of his office clothes nor washed his hands and face. Coming closer, she said softly, 'I have brought your food.'

Shekhar did not look at her. He said, 'Put it down somewhere and go.'

Lalita did not put it down; holding it in her hands, she remained standing in silence.

Even without looking, Shekhar knew that Lalita had not left—she was still standing there.

Remaining silent for two or three minutes, he said, 'How long are you going to stand there, Lalita? I will be a while. Put it down and go downstairs.'

Lalita, standing in silence, was seething inwardly; she said in a low voice, 'So be it. I have no work downstairs either.'

Opening his eyes, Shekhar smiled and said, 'Ah, so the words have come out. If you have no work downstairs, you certainly have work in that other house, do you not? And if not there, then in the house after that? After all, you don't have just one house, do you, Lalita?'

'Indeed I do not!' Lalita retorted angrily, slamming the plate of food down on the table with a thud before storming out.

Shekhar called out after her, 'Come by once after evening falls.'

'I can't be running up and down a hundred times,' Lalita said, and walked away.

As soon as she came downstairs, Mother said, 'You gave your Dada his food, but you didn't give him his paan, dear!'

'I am hungry, Mother, I can't do any more. Let someone else take it to him,' Lalita said, sitting down.

Looking at her sullen face, Mother smiled slightly and said, 'All right, sit down to eat. I will send the maid.'

Lalita sat down to her meal without another word.

She had not gone to see the theatre—yet Shekhar had scolded her; out of this anger, she had not shown her face to Shekhar for four or five days, though she would go at noon, after he had left for the office, and do his room's chores. Shekhar, realizing his mistake, had sent for her twice, but still she had not gone.