The Boat-wreck

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The Boat-wreck Page 22

by Rabindranath Tagore


  ‘You keep bringing this up repeatedly just to torment us, Akshay,’ said Annada-babu. ‘I am telling you not to do this any more.’

  ‘Don’t be angry, Baba,’ said Hemnalini soothingly. ‘You’ll only fall ill. Let Akshay-babu say whatever he wants to – it will do no harm.’

  Akshay said, ‘No, forgive me, I did not understand.’

  54

  It had been decided that Mukunda-babu and his family were to leave Kashi for Meerut. The packing was complete, they would have to leave the next morning. Kamala had hoped desperately for something to stop them at the last minute. With all her heart, she had willed Doctor Nalinaksha to visit his patient once more. But neither of the two took place.

  Lest Kamala use the opportunity of the preparations for the journey to run away, Nabinkali had kept her close to herself all the time, directing her to complete most of the packing.

  Kamala began to pray fervently to be struck down with a serious illness tonight, making it impossible for Nabinkali to take her along. It was not as though she had not thought of the doctor who would be entrusted with the responsibility for treating her. If she were to die of the affliction, it would be after touching the doctor’s feet – she had conjured up this eventuality too.

  Nabinkali made Kamala sleep next to herself that night. The next morning, she put Kamala in the same carriage. While Mukunda-babu boarded a second-class compartment, Nabinkali and Kamala found room in the women’s compartment in the intermediate class.

  Finally, the train left Kashi station. Like a rampaging elephant tearing off leaves and vines, the engine roared, tearing Kamala away from Kashi. She looked out of the window with hungry eyes. ‘Where’s the paan, Baman-thakrun?’ said Nabinkali.

  Kamala gave her the container. Opening it, Nabinkali said, ‘Just as I thought. You’ve left the lime behind. What to do now? Nothing turns out right unless I take care of it myself. I think you do these things deliberately, Baman-thakrun. Just to spite me. The food has no salt, or it’s burnt – do you think we don’t understand your tricks? Just wait till we get to Meerut, then we’ll see.’

  As the train crossed the bridge, Kamala took one last look at the town of Kashi spread out by the river. She had no idea where Nalinaksha’s house was. So everything she could see through the fast-moving train window – the ghats, the houses, the spires of the temples – was embellished by Nalinaksha’s presence and touched her heart.

  Nabinkali said, ‘What are you leaning out to see? You’re not a bird, you don’t have wings to fly away with.’

  The image of Kashi was lost. Kamala looked at the sky in silence.

  Finally, the train halted at Mughalsarai. The confusion and crowds on the platform all appeared like a shadow, a dream, to Kamala. She shifted mechanically from one train to another.

  It was almost time for the train to leave when Kamala was startled to hear a familiar voice calling out to her, ‘Ma!’ She discovered Umesh standing on the platform.

  Kamala’s face brightened. ‘Umesh!’ she cried.

  Umesh opened the door of the carriage and Kamala jumped out at once. Umesh flung himself at her feet. A broad smile appeared on his face.

  The guard shut the door the next moment. Nabinkali began to scream, ‘What do you think you’re doing, Baman-thakrun! The train’s about to leave. Get in at once.’

  Her screams fell on deaf ears. The train blew its whistle and steamed out of the station.

  ‘Where did you spring from, Umesh?’ asked Kamala.

  ‘From Ghazipur,’ said Umesh.

  Kamala said, ‘Is everyone well there? Khuro-moshai?’

  ‘He is well,’ Umesh told he.

  ‘And Didi?’

  ‘She weeps for you all the time, Ma.’

  Kamala’s eyes filled with tears too. She asked, ‘How is Uma? Does she remember her Mashi?’

  Umesh told her, ‘She won’t have her milk unless she puts on the bangles you gave her. She rolls her wrists with them on and says, “Mashi’s gone” and her mother starts sobbing.’

  ‘What did you come here for?’ Kamala asked him.

  Umesh said, ‘I didn’t want to stay in Ghazipur any more, so I came away.’

  ‘Where will you go?’

  ‘I’ll go with you, Ma,’ said Umesh.

  Kamala said, ‘I have no money.’

  ‘I do,’ Umesh told her.

  ‘Where did you get it?’

  ‘Do you remember the five rupees you gave me? I didn’t spend it.’

  He pulled the money out and showed her.

  ‘Then let’s go to Kashi, Umesh, all right? You can buy the tickets, can’t you?’

  Umesh said, ‘I can,’ and bought the tickets at once. The train was ready, he helped her into it and said, ‘I’m in the next compartment, Ma.’

  Getting off at Kashi, Kamala asked Umesh, ‘Where do we go now, Umesh?’

  ‘Don’t worry, Ma,’ Umesh said, ‘I’ll take you to the right place.’

  ‘The right place? What do you know in Kashi?’

  ‘Everything,’ answered Umesh. ‘Just wait and see.’

  Ushering Kamala into a carriage, he sat with the coachman in his box. Stopping in front of a building, he said, ‘Get off here, Ma.’

  As Kamala followed Umesh into the house, he said, ‘Are you home, Dada-moshai?’

  Someone responded from the next room, ‘Is that Umesh? Where did you come from?’

  Chakraborty appeared the next moment, a hookah in his hand. Umesh smiled broadly, in complete silence. An astonished Kamala touched Chakraborty’s feet. He could not speak for a few moments. He did not know what to say or where to put his hookah. Finally, he took Kamala’s chin in his fingertips and lifted her embarrassed face. ‘Ma is back! Come, come upstairs.’

  ‘Shaila, Shaila, look who’s here.’

  Shailaja rushed out of her room and appeared at the head of the staircase. Kamala touched her feet. Shailaja took her in her arms at once, kissing her forehead. Her cheeks wet with tears, she said, ‘How you made us cry, my God. Is this any way to do things!’

  Chakraborty said, ‘Never mind all that, Shailaja, make arrangements for her to bathe and have a meal.’

  Now Uma came in running, crying, ‘Mashi! Mashi!’ Kamala scooped her up at once in her arms, smothering her in kisses.

  Shailaja could not bear to see Kamala in her tangled locks and shabby clothes. She took her away, giving her a bath with great care and made her put on one of her own saris. ‘You can’t have slept well last night,’ she said. ‘Your eyes are sunken. Take a nap, I’ll finish the cooking.’

  ‘No, Didi, I’ll come to the kitchen with you,’ said Kamala.

  They went into the kitchen together.

  When Chakraborty was going to Kashi on Akshay’s advice, Shailaja had pleaded with her father, ‘I want to go with you, Baba.’

  ‘But Bipin won’t get leave of absence now,’ said Chakraborty.

  ‘Never mind. I’ll go by myself,’ Shailaja said. ‘Ma is here, he will have no trouble.’

  Shailaja had never been separated from her husband before.

  Chakraborty had no choice but to agree. They left Ghazipur for Kashi. At the station, they had found Umesh getting off the train too. ‘Why did you come?’ He was here for the same reason as everyone else. Umesh was now employed in Chakraborty’s household; because his sudden absence would annoy the mistress of the house, they cajoled him to go back to Ghazipur. He simply could not settle down in Ghazipur. When the mistress sent him out to buy vegetables, he used the money to get on to a train. Chakraborty’s wife waited in vain for him that day.

  55

  Later that day, Akshay came to meet Chakraborty, who said nothing about Kamala’s return. Chakraborty had realized that Akshay was not cordially disposed towards Ramesh.

  No one asked why or where Kamala had gone – the day passed as though she was visiting Kashi along with them. Lachhmania, who looked after Uma, had been about to admonish her affectionately, but Chakraborty had taken her
aside at once and told her to stop.

  At night, Shailaja took Kamala into her bed. Putting her arms around her and drawing her to herself, she stroked Kamala. This tender touch posed an unasked question to Kamala.

  Kamala said, ‘What must you have thought, Didi! Were you not angry with me?’

  Shailaja said, ‘We are not unintelligent. We would have known that you would not have chosen this terrible path if there had been an alternative. We only wept wondering why God had picked you for such a crisis. How can an innocent person be punished so!’

  ‘Will you listen to my story, Didi?’ said Kamala.

  ‘Of course I will,’ Shailaja told her gently.

  ‘I don’t know why I couldn’t have told you then. I had no time to think things over. I felt as though the sky had fallen on my head, I couldn’t face anyone out of shame. I have no mother, no sisters, Didi, you are all of those for me – that is why I am telling you, or else this is not a story that should be told.’

  Kamala could not lie down any more, she sat up. Shailaja sat up too, facing her. In the darkness, Kamala recounted the story of her life, beginning with the wedding.

  When Kamala said she had not set eyes on her husband either before or on the night of the wedding, Shailaja told her, ‘I haven’t met another girl as foolish as you. I was married even younger than you were – but do you think I was too embarrassed to look at my own husband?’

  ‘It wasn’t embarrassment, Didi,’ said Kamala. ‘I was almost too old to be married. When my wedding was fixed suddenly, all my friends began to tease me mercilessly. To prove to them that I was not delirious with joy at having found a husband at this old age, I did not even look at him. In fact, I even considered it a matter of shame and disgrace to feel any eagerness. I’m paying the price today.’

  Kamala was silent for some time. Then she resumed, ‘I have already told you how we survived the boat-wreck after the wedding. But when I told you the story, I did not know that the person I was thrown with after surviving death, whom I had considered my husband, was not in fact my husband.’

  This came as a shock to Shailaja. Quickly putting her arms around Kamala, she said, ‘Oh God – so that’s what it was! Now I understand. How could something so terrible happen!’

  ‘Really, Didi, when death would have solved everything, why did the creator have to do this?’ said Kamala.

  ‘Ramesh-babu didn’t know anything?’ asked Shailaja.

  ‘He addressed me as Sushila for some time after the wedding,’ said Kamala. ‘I asked him, “My name is Kamala, why do all of you address me as Sushila?” I realize now that he must have realized his mistake then. But Didi, even thinking about those days makes me ashamed.’ Kamala fell silent.

  Shailaja gradually drew the entire story out of her. When she had heard everything, she said, ‘Suffering is written in your fate, Kamala, but it was fortunate it was Ramesh-babu whom you met. I feel terrible thinking about him. Go to sleep now, Kamala. All these sleepless nights are showing on your face. Tomorrow we will decide what to do.’

  Kamala had the letter that Ramesh had written. The next day Shailaja drew her father aside and gave him the letter. Putting his glasses on, Chakraborty read the letter carefully. Then, folding it and taking off his glasses, he asked his daughter, ‘What should we do now?’

  Shailaja said, ‘Uma has had a cold for a few days, why don’t you send word to Doctor Nalinaksha? He’s very well-known in Kashi. Let him examine her.’

  The doctor arrived to examine the patient and Shailaja became anxious for a glimpse. ‘Come on, Kamala, quick,’ she said.

  The same Kamala who had almost forgotten herself in Nabinkali’s house at the time of Nalinaksha’s visit refused to budge today out of embarrassment.

  Shailaja said, ‘I can’t keep begging you, you wretched girl, I don’t have the time. Umi’s sickness is all made up, the doctor won’t stay very long. If I spend all my time pleading with you I’ll miss him.’

  Shailaja forced Kamala to take up a position with her behind the door. Nalinaksha examined Uma’s chest and throat carefully, wrote a prescription, and left.

  Shailaja told Kamala, ‘No matter how much you have suffered, Kamala, your future is bright. Now you must be patient for a few days – we will arrange something. Meanwhile, Umi will need the doctor frequently, you shall not be deprived.’

  The next day Chakraborty picked a time to fetch Nalinaksha when he wasn’t usually home. ‘The doctor isn’t home,’ said the servant.

  ‘Ma-thakrun must be in,’ Chakraborty told him, ‘please inform her. Tell her an old man, a Brahmin, wishes to meet her.’

  He was summoned upstairs. Chakraborty told her, ‘You are famous all over Kashi, Ma. Meeting you is like meeting a deity. I have no other desire. One of my granddaughters is ill, I was here to fetch your son, but he isn’t home. Instead of returning with a failed mission, I thought to catch a glimpse of you instead.’

  Kshemankari said, ‘Nalin will be back soon, please wait a while. It’s late in the day, let me have some refreshments brought in for you.’

  ‘I knew you would not let me go without a meal,’ said Chakraborty. ‘People can tell that I have a weakness for food and they are most considerate towards me in this respect.’

  Kshemankari was delighted to host Chakraborty. ‘You are invited to a meal at my house tomorrow afternoon. I was not prepared today, I could not entertain you suitably.’

  Chakraborty said, ‘Do think of this Brahmin whenever you are prepared. I do not live far away. If you like I will take one of your servants along so that he knows where my house is.’

  Within a few days Chakraborty became a regular visitor at Nalinaksha’s house.

  Sending for Nalinaksha, Kshemankari said, ‘You must not charge Chakraborty-moshai for your visits, Nalin.’

  Smiling, Chakraborty said, ‘He has been observing his mother’s orders already. He has not taken any money from me. The generous can recognize the poor at one glance.’

  Father and daughter consulted each other for a day or two. One morning, Chakraborty told Kamala, ‘Let us go to Dashashwamedh Ghat for a bath, Ma.’

  ‘You come too, Didi,’ Kamala urged Shailaja.

  ‘Umi isn’t well,’ said Shailaja.

  Chakraborty took a different route on the way back. A little later they saw an aged lady in muslin, approaching them slowly with the water of the Ganga in a pot.

  Pulling Kamala into view, Chakraborty said, ‘This is the doctor’s mother, Ma, touch her feet.’

  Startled, Kamala bent at once to touch Kshemankari’s feet.

  ‘Who are you, my dear?’ said Kshemankari. ‘How lovely you are, let me take a closer look.’

  She removed the end of Kamala’s sari from over her head and scanned Kamala’s face carefully. ‘What is your name, my dear?’ she asked Kamala, who had lowered her eyes.

  Before she could answer, Chakraborty said, ‘Her name is Haridasi. She is a distant niece of mine. She has no parents, and is my dependant.’

  Kshemankari said, ‘Come to our house, Chakraborty-moshai.’

  Taking them home, Kshemankari sent for Nalinaksha. He had gone out.

  Chakraborty took a seat while Kamala sat on the floor. He said, ‘Fortune has been very unkind to this niece of mine. Her husband became a hermit the very next day after her wedding, she has never met him since. Haridasi wanted to live in religious surroundings and devote herself to prayers – she has nothing to console herself with except thoughts of God. This not my hometown, I have a job elsewhere – I have to earn a living to support my family. I cannot afford to live here with her, which is why I am turning to you for help. If you would let her stay here with you like a daughter, I would be relieved. If she becomes a burden, send her back to me at Ghazipur. But I assure you, a day or two will tell you what a wonderful girl she is, you will not want to lose her.’

  Pleased, Kshemankari said, ‘I am delighted to hear that. It is to my advantage that you are entrusting someone like her to me. I lo
ve bringing little boys and girls off the street into my house to feed and clothe them but I cannot hold them back. Haridasi is mine now, do not worry about her any more. You know my son Nalinaksha, of course – such a good boy. No one else lives here besides him.’

  Chakraborty said, ‘Everyone knows Nalinaksha-babu. I’ve heard he has been living like a hermit ever since his wife was drowned in an accident after their marriage.’

  Kshemankari said, ‘Please don’t bring it up again – even the thought terrifies me.’

  ‘If you will permit me, I shall leave this girl here and take my leave now,’ said Chakraborty. ‘I shall visit you and her occasionally. She has an elder sister who will also come to pay her respects.’

  After Chakraborty had left, Kshemankari drew Kamala to herself. ‘Come near me, Ma. You’re not very old, are you? Can anyone in this world be so heartless as to forsake you? My wish for you is that he will return. The lord has not created such beauty to be wasted.’

  Touching Kamala’s chin with her fingertips, she kissed her.

  ‘There’s no one here of your age,’ said Kshemankari. ‘Do you think you can stay with me all by yourself?’

  Signalling submission with her large, serene eyes, Kamala said, ‘I can, Ma.’

  ‘I’m wondering what you will do to make your days pass,’ said Kshemankari.

  Kamala answered, ‘I shall do all your work.’

  ‘Ah, fate! My work indeed! All I have is the one son and he too lives like a hermit. If only he’d ever say, “Ma, I need this, I want to eat that, this is what I like,” how happy I’d be! But he never does. He earns a great deal but keeps none of it for himself. He doesn’t even let anyone know how much money he spends helping others. Look, my dear, since you will be staying with me all the time, I’m telling you in advance that you will get tired of listening to my son’s praises, but you will have to bear this.’

  Kamala lowered her eyes in ecstasy.

  ‘I’m wondering what to ask you to do,’ Kshemankari told her. ‘Can you embroider?’

 

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