Rajlakshmi said, ‘Mahin, I pray to God that Behari stays as close to you as he has been since your childhood—it would be the greatest boon for you.’
Rajlakshmi was tired by now and she fell silent. Behari held a revitalizing drug to her lips, but she pushed it away and said, ‘No more medicines, my child. Now let me think of God—He would administer the final cure to release me from all wordly pains. Mahin, you go and rest for a while. Bou-ma, you get started on the cooking.’
That evening, Behari and Mahendra’s place was laid in front of Rajlakshmi’s bed as they sat down to eat. Rajlakshmi had given Asha the responsibility of serving food and she began to serve them.
Mahendra’s heart was surging with tears and he could scarcely eat. Rajlakshmi coaxed him again and again, ‘Mahin, why aren’t you eating anything? Eat heartily—let me watch and be happy.’
Behari said, ‘You know him, Mother, he’s always been that way. He can hardly eat anything. Bouthan, you must give me some more of that curry, it’s really delicious.’
Rajlakshmi was delighted and she smiled as she said, ‘I know Behari loves that curry. Bou-ma, that’s not enough, give him some more.’
Behari said, ‘This daughter-in-law of yours is so tight-fisted—nothing slips through her fingers.’
Rajlakshmi laughed. Look at that Bou-ma—Behari is critiquing you even as he eats your food!’
Asha plied Behari with a ladleful of curry.
Behari said, ‘Oh dear me, I suppose I’ll have to make do with the curry and all the other delicacies will go to Mahin da!’
Asha chastized him in a whisper, ‘The critic’s lips can never be sealed.’
Behari replied softly, ‘Try some rice pudding and see if it works!’
When the two friends had finished their meal, Rajlakshmi sighed with pleasure and said, ‘Bou-ma, you go and have your meal quickly.’
Asha left to do her bidding and Rajlakshmi said to Mahendra, ‘Mahin, you go to bed now.’
Mahendra said, ‘Why should I go to bed so early?’
He had decided he’d stay up at his mother’s bedside that night. But Rajlakshmi wouldn’t hear of it. She said, ‘Mahin, you are tired, go to bed.’
After her meal, Asha picked up a hand-fan and tried to sit by Rajlakshmi’s bed. But the latter conspiratorially whispered to her, ‘Bou-ma, just check if Mahin’s bed has been made—he is all alone.’
Asha nearly died of shame and made her escape from the room, leaving Behari and Annapurna behind. Rajlakshmi asked Behari, ‘Tell me something Behari—do you know what became of Binodini? Where is she now?’
Behari replied, ‘Binodini is in Kolkata now.’
In reply to Rajlakshmi’s unuttered question, Behari said, ‘Mother, don’t be afraid of Binodini causing you any more grief.’
‘She has caused me a lot of grief, Behari, but deep in my heart I care about her.’
‘And she cares about you, Mother.’
‘I feel the same, Behari. No one is perfect, but she must have cared about me. No one can fake that kind of tender ministration.’
Behari said, ‘She is eager to nurse you again.’
Rajlakshmi sighed and said, ‘Mahin and Asha have gone to bed—what’s the harm in sending for her in the night?’
Behari said, ‘Mother, she is hiding in one of the rooms in this very house. I haven’t been able to get her to take even a drop of water through the day—she has vowed that until you send for her and forgive her, she won’t have anything to eat or drink.’
Rajlakshmi was concerned. ‘Starving the whole day—oh dear, send for her, quick!’
The moment Binodini stepped into her room hesitantly, Rajlakshmi said, ‘Shame on you, Binodini, what have you done? You have starved yourself the whole day! Go and eat first and then we’ll talk.’
Binodini touched Rajlakshmi’s feet and said, ‘Aunty, first you must forgive this sinner and only then will I eat.’
Rajlakshmi said, ‘I do forgive you, my child—I am no longer angry with anyone.’
She took Binodini’s hand in hers and said, ‘May you be happy and may no one be harmed by you.’
Binodini said, ‘Your blessing won’t go in vain, Aunty. I swear at your feet, no harm will befall this household on my account.’
Binodini bowed low and touched Annapurna’s feet, too, before she left to have her dinner. When she came back Rajlakshmi looked at her and said, ‘Are you leaving now?’
Binodini said, ‘Aunty, I will attend to you. As God is my witness, you have nothing to fear from me.’
Rajlakshmi glanced at Behari. He gave it some thought and said, ‘Let Bouthan stay, it won’t do any harm.’
That night Binodini, Behari and Annapurna nursed Rajlakshmi together.
Meanwhile, Asha woke up very early the next morning, abashed at not having gone into Rajlakshmi’s room even once through the night. She left Mahendra still asleep in bed, washed and changed before she came downstairs. The dark of the night still lingered. When she came and stood at Rajlakshmi’s door, the sight that greeted her eyes made her wonder if she was dreaming.
Binodini was heating some water over a spirit lamp; it was to make some tea for Behari who hadn’t slept all night long. When she saw Asha, Binodini stood up and said, ‘Today, with my burden of crimes, I seek refuge from you. No one else can evict me, but if you say “go”, I will leave this very minute.’
Asha couldn’t say a word—she couldn’t even fathom what her heart was saying. She just stood there, overwhelmed.
Binodini said, ‘You’ ll never be able to forgive me—don’t even try it. But please, do not fear me any more. Please let me stay here and serve Aunty as long as she is in need of it. Afterwards, I shall leave.’
The day before, when Rajlakshmi had placed Asha’s hand in Mahendra’s, Asha had wiped away all traces of hurt and rejection and surrendered herself to Mahendra all over again. But today as Binodini stood before her, the pangs of her rejected love refused to be calmed. The thought that swelled in her bosom was that Mahendra had once loved this woman, and perhaps he still loved her deep in his heart. In a short while Mahendra would wake up, he’d see Binodini—how would he feel? The night before Asha had perceived her whole life to be free of thorns henceforth. But this morning she found the thorny bush planted right at her doorstep. Joy was the most delicate of objects—there was scarcely a place to keep it safe.
With a heavy heart Asha stepped into Rajlakshmi’s room and with great mortification she said, ‘Aunty, you have stayed up all night—go to sleep now.’ Annapurna looked at Asha’s face searchingly. Then, instead of going to bed, she took Asha to her room and said, ‘Chuni, if you want to be happy, try and forget what happened. The misery of remembering the crimes of others is greater than the pleasure in laying the blame at their door.’
Asha said, ‘Aunty, I do not want to remember—I want to forget—but I can’t.’
Annapurna said, ‘Child, you are right. It’s easier said than done. Let me tell you a way of doing it—you must keep the pretense alive that you have forgotten everything. If you succeed outwardly, it’ll also take root in your heart. Keep this in mind, Chuni—if you do not forget, you’ll keep it alive in others’ minds too. If you cannot do it on your own, I command you hereby—behave with Binodini as if she has never done you any harm and neither is she capable of it.’
Asha humbly asked, ‘Please tell me what I must do.’
Annapurna said, ‘Binodini is making tea for Behari right now. You take the cups, saucers, milk and sugar—work together, the two of you.’
Asha rose to obey her command. Annapurna said, ‘This was easy, but I will tell you something much more difficult, which you must do. There will be times when Mahendra will run into Binodini and I know what will pass through your mind—at those times, you must not try to see Mahendra’s or Binodini’s reaction, even with a covert peep. Even if your heart breaks, you must stay unruffled. Mahendra must come to think that you do not suspect him, you do not grieve, you nu
rse no fears or worries—things are exactly the same as they were once, before the rift; even the traces of the fissure have vanished. Mahendra, or anyone else for that matter, should not look at you and feel weighed down by guilt. Chuni, this is not a request or advice; this is your aunt’s command. When I go back to Kashi you must not forget this for even an instant.’
Asha fetched the teacups and saucers and approached Binodini, ‘Is the water ready? I’ve brought milk for the tea.’
Binodini looked at Asha in amazement and said, ‘Behari-thakurpo is sitting on the veranda—you have the tea sent to him while I go and arrange for Aunty to wash her face; she should be waking up any minute.’
Binodini did not take the tea to Behari. She felt embarrassed to claim the rights that he had granted her by admitting her love for him. In order to retain the due respect for privileges, one must use them judiciously. Only the beggar would pull and stretch at his whole booty at once. The true worth of wealth lay in savouring it prudently. Now Binodini couldn’t bring herself to go in front of Behari under some pretext, unless he sent for her specifically.
As she finished speaking, Mahendra arrived on the scene. Although Asha’s heart missed a beat, she composed herself quickly and addressed him calmly, ‘Haven’t you woken up early today? I shut the doors and windows lest the sunlight wakes you.’
When Mahendra found Asha speaking to him so normally in Binodini’s presence, a burden seemed to lift off his heart. He replied cheerfully, ‘I’ve come to check on Mother—is she still asleep?’
Asha said, ‘Yes, she’s sleeping—don’t go in there now. Behari-thakurpo has said she is much better today. After many days, she slept through the night last night.’
Mahendra was relieved. ‘Where is Aunty?’
Asha showed him to Annapurna’s room.
Binodini, too, was taken aback to see this calm and controlled Asha.
Mahendra called, ‘Aunty!’
Annapurna had finished her bath at the crack of dawn and was about to sit down to her puja, but she called out, ‘Come, Mahin, come.’
Mahendra touched her feet and said, ‘Aunty, I have sinned and I hate to stand before you thus.’
Annapurna said, ‘Oh no, don’t talk that way Mahin—the little boy comes to his mother’s lap even when he’s covered in mud.’
Mahendra said, ‘But this mud cannot be washed off.’
Annapurna said, ‘A few flicks, a good dusting down and it’ll be gone. Mahin, it’s all for the best—you were very proud of your ideals, you were too confident in your beliefs—the squall of sins has shattered your arrogance but left you unharmed.’
Mahendra said, ‘Aunty, this time we won’t let you go—your absence brought all this upon us.’
Annapurna said, ‘If the mishap was held at bay by my presence alone, it is better that it has taken its toll. Now you will not need me any more.’
There was another voice at the door, ‘Aunty, are you doing your puja?’
Annapurna said, ‘No , you may come in.’
Behari stepped into the room. When he found Mahendra awake at this early hour, he said, ‘Mahin da, this is perhaps the first time that you are seeing the rising sun!’
Mahendra said, ‘Yes Behari, it’s my first sunrise. Perhaps you need to discuss something with Aunty—I’ll be off then.’
Behari laughed. ‘You can be included in the cabinet of ministers. I have never concealed anything from you and if you have no objections, I won’t start doing so now.’
Mahendra laughed. ‘Objections and me! But of course, I can no longer demand it. If you do not conceal anything from me, I shall be able to respect myself again.’
These days it was rather difficult to say everything in Mahendra’s presence. Behari nearly stumbled, but he went on resolutely, ‘My marriage to Binodini was a subject broached earlier and I have come to conclude the discussion with Aunty.’
Mahendra shrank away and Annapurna looked up in surprise. ‘What’s all this, Behari!’
Mahendra made a great effort and shrugged away his qualms. ‘Behari, there is no need for this marriage.’
Annapurna asked, ‘Is Binodini with you on this talk of marriage?’
Behari said, ‘Not one bit.’
Annapurna said, ‘Will she agree to this?’
Mahendra spoke up, ‘Why wouldn’t she agree to it, Aunty? I know that she is devoted to Behari—why would she throw away this chance of a safe haven?’
Behari said, ‘Mahin da, I proposed marriage to Binodini—she has turned it down.’
At this Mahendra fell silent.
54
FOR RAJLAKSHMI, THE NEXT TWO OR THREE DAYS PASSED SOMEHOW, WITH some good moments and some bad. One morning her face grew contented and all signs of pain vanished. She sent for Mahendra and said, ‘I don’t have much time—but I die in peace, Mahin, I have no regrets. Today my heart wells with the same kind of joy that I once felt, when you were a child. You are the apple of my eye, my own little boy—I am taking with me all your troubles and that fills me with joy.’ Rajlakshmi stroked his face and arms. Mahendra couldn’t check his tears as the sobs rose to his throat.
Rajlakshmi said, ‘Don t weep, Mahin; the queen of grace is still in your home. Give the household keys to Bou-ma. I have kept everything in order—you two wouldn’t lack for anything in the house. One other thing, Mahin, don’t tell anyone before I die—there are two thousand rupees in my box that I bequeath to Binodini. She is a widow, all alone in this world—the interest from this money would suffice for her. But Mahin, my request to you is don’t keep her within the walls of your own home.’
Rajlakshmi sent for Behari and said, ‘Behari my son, Mahin was telling me that you have bought a property where you want to treat impoverished gentlemen. May God grant you a long life to do the poor a good turn. At the time of my marriage my father-in-law had gifted me a village, I bequeath that to you. Use it to serve the poor; it’ll bring peace to my father-in-law’s soul.’
55
WHEN THE LAST RITES FOR RAJLAKSHMI WERE CONCLUDED, MAHENDRA said, ‘Dear Behari, I have studied medicine—please make me a part of your mission. With the way Chuni has gained control over the household chores, she’d be able to lend you a hand too. We shall all live there.’
Behari said, ‘Mahin da, please think this through—would this work satisfy you at all times? Don’t take on permanent duties in the throes of a sudden surge of altruism.’
Mahendra said, ‘Behari, you think about it too—the life that I have made for myself, can no longer be savoured at leisure. If I do not occupy myself with a worthwhile cause, my restless soul can haul me into the nadir of despair one day. You must make room for me in your mission.’
So it was decided.
When it was time for them to say goodbye, Annapurna and Behari sat immersed in restful sorrow, discussing the days past. Binodini came and stood at the door. ‘Aunty, may I sit here for a while?’
Annapurna said, ‘Come, come, my child—sit.’
Binodini came in and sat down. Annapurna spoke a few words with her and then under the pretext of making her bed, she went into the veranda.
Binodini asked Behari, ‘Tell me what I should do now—what is your command?’
Behari said, ‘Bouthan, why don’t you tell me what you want to do?’
Binodini said, ‘I’ve heard that you have taken a house by the Ganga to treat poor patients. I’d like to be of some use to you there. If nothing else, I could cook there.’
Behari said, ‘Bouthan, I have given this a lot of throught. Through circumstances the webs of our lives are now utterly tangled. The time has come for us to sit in solitude and undo the knots one by one. First, we must clear everything. Now I no longer have the courage to indulge in all that the heart desires. Without laying to rest every upheaval, every tumult that has resulted from the events till now, from all that we have borne, we cannot settle down and anticipate the end of our lives. If our pasts had been different, you are the only one who could have gi
ven my life completion—but now I must part from you. Now, it would be a vain effort to strive for happiness. Now we can only repair the damages slowly and surely.’
At this point Annapurna stepped into the room and Binodini said, ‘Mother, you must give me shelter at your feet. Please don’t push me away as a fallen woman.’
Annapurna said, ‘Child, come then, come with me.’
On the day that Annapurna and Binodini were to go to Kashi, Behari sought out Binodini at some point and said, ‘Bouthan, I want something from you—a mark—to keep with me always.’
Binodini said, ‘What do I have to give, that you can keep as a mark, by your side forever?’
Abashed and diffident, Behari said, ‘The English have a custom—they keep a few locks of the dear one’s hair as a memento—if you—’
Binodini recoiled, ‘Oh no—how shameful! What would you do with my hair? That tainted, dead item means nothing to me, that I would gift it to you. Hapless that I am, I could not be of any use to you—I’d like to gift you something that can help you in my stead. Will you accept it?’
Behari said,‘I will.’
Binodini untied the knot at the end of her anchal, took out two notes of a thousand rupees each and handed them to Behari.
Behari gazed at her steadily, his eyes alight with intense fervour. A little later he said, ‘Is there nothing that I can give you?’
Binodini said, ‘I have a mark from you, it graces my body—no one can take it away from me. I do not need anything more.’ She showed him the scar on her elbow.
Behari was astounded. Binodini said, ‘You may not be aware but this was given by you and it is worthy of you. Even you cannot take this back now.’
Despite her aunt’s counsel, Asha had not been able to free her mind entirely of vitriol towards Binodini. They had nursed Rajlakshmi together, but every time Asha’s eyes had fallen on Binodini, her heart had smarted, the words had dissolved on her tongue and the effort to smile had been painful. She had resented it if she had to accept even the slightest help from Binodini. She had accepted the paan made by Binodini out of courtesy, but later thrown it away in distaste. But today, when it was time to take leave, when her aunt was departing from the household a second time, Asha’s heart swelled with tears, and she found herself pitying Binodini too. There are few hearts hard enough to be incapable of forgiving the one who is taking leave forever. Asha was sure Binodini loved Mahendra—and why wouldn’t she? Asha knew from her own heart just how inevitable it was to feel love for Mahendra. It was the anguish of this love that made her feel compassion for Binodini now. Asha could not wish upon her worst enemy the agony that Binodini was bound to feel as she left Mahendra forever; the very thought brought tears to Asha’s eyes. In the past, she had loved Binodini and that love touched her heart again. Slowly she walked up to Binodini and with great compassion, affection and sadness, she said, ‘Didi, so you are leaving?’
Tagore Omnibus, Volume 1 Page 24