LITMIR.BIZ

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any longer. My husband hasn’t had his meal yet, I don’t know whether he will have any to-day at all.”

      ​"Well, suppose I return home, do you think my husband will reinstate me?”

      “Oh, ho! why shouldn’t he do it? As if it is such an easy matter after all not to do it.”

      “But remember, I have been abducted by the Englishman, do I maintain my caste any longer?”

      Sundari looked intently at her face in astonishment. She began to dart sharp soul-piercing glances at her, and the proud Shaibalini, like a serpent wincing under the touch of the medicinal root, dropped her face. “Will you speak the truth?” asked Sundari somewhat sternly.

      “Yes, I will.”

“Even on these waters of the Ganges?"^[8]

      “Yes. There is no need of your asking, I will tell you without it. Up till now I have held the Englishman at arm’s length. It cannot harm the religious scruples of my husband to take me back.”

      “Then make no doubt. He is a pious man, he will never do an unjust thing; what is the good of wasting time on unprofitable talk?”

      Shaibalini remained buried in thought for a while and then water stood in her eyes.

      “Supposing I do go,” she said, wiping her tears. “Suppose also, that my husband takes me back, but will my infamy be ever wiped away?"

Sundari made no answer. “Would not the little girls of the neighbourhood,” continued Shaibalini, “hereafter point their fingers at me and say, ‘look, there is she who was abducted by an Englishman!’ God forbid! if a son is born to me, who will accept my invitation at his rice ​ceremony^[9] and come to dine at my house? Or, if a daughter is born, what good Brahmin will marry his son to her? If I return home now, who will believe that I have not fallen off from my religion? How shall I shew my face there?”

      “What was in your destiny, has come to pass,” said Sundari, “that cannot be undone. You shall have to suffer a little all your time, yet you will have the satisfaction of living in your own home.”

      “For what happiness? What hopes of happiness have I, that I shall return home and suffer so much misery? I have neither father, mother, friend——”

      “Why, you have got your husband, else for whom is the life of a woman ?"

      “You know all—”

      “Yes, I do know all. I know that of all the sinners in this world, there is not one greater than you. The husband, the like of whom rarely falls to the lot of a woman in this world, your mind is not satisfied with the love of such a husband. And why ?-—because he does not know how to fondle his wife like children who fondle their dolls in their mimic play-house; and why? — because the Creator has not made him a buffoon tricked out in tinsel tawdries—He has made him a man. Your husband is pious and learned, you are a wicked sinner— how can you like him? You are blind of the blind, and that is why you cannot understand that the love which he bears you, is rare in a woman’s life. As the reward of great virtue in your antecedent birth, you have ​earned such love from such a husband. However, let all that go, this is not the time for it. Even if he does not love you, still if you can pass your time in worshipping his feet, you will have lived to some purpose. Why do you dawdle?——my gorge is rising.”

      “Now listen to me,” said Shaibalini. “While at home I used to think, that if I could know of any relative either agnate or cognate, I would leave my home and live with him, otherwise I would go to Benares and live there on begging, else, I would drown myself. Now I am on my way to Monghyr, let see what sort of atown it is; let me try if doles of charity can be had in the metropolis. If it is to be death, I will die; I carry it in the hollow of my palm. What else is left to me now, but death? But death or life, in any case, I have determined not to return home. For me you have taken all this trouble in vain—go back. I will not go. Consider me as dead—be sure I will die——go.”

      After this Sundari did not utter another word. Repressing her tears she stood up and said, “I hope you will soon die. I devoutly pray to the gods that you may find courage to die, that you may die even before you reach Monghyr! Be it in Storm, be it in the angry waves, be it in a sinking boat, I pray that you may die before you reach Monghyr!”

      With these words Sundari whisked out of the boat, threw the lacdye-cotton basket into the water and returned to her husband.

      1 ↑ By leaving her home with an Englishman, Shaibalini is supposed to have lost her caste.

      2 ↑ An Indian poet who wrote Sanscrit verses of exquisite grace and melody.

      3 ↑ A Indian tune, very soft and sweet.

      4 ↑ They are the Mahomedan boatmen

      5 ↑ This is a medley of the names of possible and impossible places.

      6 ↑ This practice of painting the feet with lacdye is common with the Hindu married women of Bengal. It is done by painting the fringe of the soles about an inch deep including the nails as a personal decoration.

      7 ↑ It is against the rules of domestic propriety among the Bengal Hindus, for a lady to appear before such a relation.

      8 ↑ The Ganges is Considered very sacred by the Hindus, and when a person makes a statement by touching its water, he is put on the highest form of oath.

      9 ↑ It is a ceremony which generally takes place in the sixth month of a child's birth when the child happens to be male, and in the seventh month, when it happens to be female. The kinsmen, caste people and friends are invited to dinner on the occasion. This is the occasion when the child is initiated into the mysteries of boiled rice.

      Chapter V :- Chandrashekhar's return

       Table of Contents

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      CHAPTER V. CHANDRASHEKHAR’S RETURN.

      CHANDRASHEKHAR had calculated the future. He said to the Nawab’s officer, “Sir, you will be pleased to ​inform the Nawab, that I have not been successful in my calculation.”

      “Why Sir?” asked the officer.

      "Everything,” replied Chandrashekhar, “cannot be ascertained by astrology; if that were so, man would be omniscient; moreover, I am not very clever in that science.” “Or rather it is,” said the officer, “that sensible men do not tell things unpleasant to the sovereign. However that may be, I will lay before the Nawab what you have said.”

      Chandrashekhar took his leave. The Nawab’s officer did not venture to offer him his travelling expenses. Chandrashekhar was a Brahmin, a learned Brahmin, and not a common Brahmin.

      He was not in the habit of receiving any gratuitous benefits, nor did he accept any gift from anybody. On his way back Chandrashekhar descried his house from a distance. The very sight of it infused a joy into his mind. Chandrashekhar was a philosopher and a seeker of truth. He asked himself :——Why this influx of joy into the mind of a man when he returns home from a strange country? Have I suffered from privations of hunger and sleep all the while? What greater happiness can I expect at home than abroad? That I have

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