“Why, Paru isn’t it?’
“Yes, auntie, where’s Mono ?”
“She’s in school. Don’t you go to school, Paru?”
“No, auntie, I don't and neither does Devda.”
Monoroma’s aunt smiled kindly.
“Would like to come in, Paru?”
“No, auntie, I’ll be going now.”
Paru wandered off to Roshik Pal’s store. Almost there, she saw three Vaishnovi singers, cymbals in hand, walking down the road. She hurried to catch up with them.
“Vaishnovi! Can you sing?”
The three stopped to look at her.
“Of course we can sing, child.”
“Then sing for me, do!”
The Vaisnovis exchanged glances, then one spoke.
“We cannot sing without alms, child, but if you wish we will come to your house and sing for your family.”
“I want you to sing for me now, and I have alms. See.”
and Paru showed them a piece of silver. Yesterday, while they were fishing, Devdas had given Paru three rupees to keep safe for him. She had tied them in a not in her scarf;
“Is that your money, child?”
“It’s Devda’s.”
“And will he not punish you for giving it away?”
Paru shook her head firmly. “No, he will not.”
Then the three intertwined their voices and beat time with their cymbals, and sang songs of love and devotion. Paru could not understand most of the words, but the harmony caught her heart and lifted it up and away. When they finally stopped, Paru gave them all the money in her scarf, three silver rupees. They were amazed and overjoyed at this largesse.
“Do you mean to give us so much, mother?”
“Yes, I have three coins, and there are three of you, so it comes out just right, see?”
Blessing her heartily, the three Vaishnovis continued on their way.
The next morning Devdas was calling for Paru as usual.
“Let’s go into town. I mean to get kites at the market, the old ones are broken. Do you have the money I gave you?”
Paru turned pale.
“No.”
“No? What happened?”
“I gave them to three Vaisnovis who sang for me.”
“All three rupees? you idiot! That was too much!”
“But there were three of them. How could they divide it if I didn’t give them three rupees?”
“I would have given them two rupees. Then they would have got ten annas, thirteen gonds and one kora each!”
Paru said thoughtfully, “But could they have worked out a difficult sum the way you did?”
Devdas pondered. No, those poor Vaisnaovis could never have coped with such a difficult calculation. He, Devdas, knew long division. He felt superior in his knowledge.
Paru said,”They thought you might punish me.”
Devdas stared “For what, idiot?”
“For giving them the money.”
Devdas laughed uproariously. “Of course I won’t punish you, idiot! Come on, let’s get to the market.”
Chapter 4
In this way, a couple of years passed by, many more would have gone by in the same way, if Devdas’s mother hadn’t intervened. She had grown increasingly dissatisfied with Devdas’s education. Now, she spoke her mind to Narayan Mukherjee.
“Do you want your son to grow up into a lout and yokel? Do something!”
Narayan Mukherjee thought it over.
“He could attend a school in Calcutta, and live with Nogen. That would work out well.”
Nogen was a cousin of Devdas’s mother, and she was satisfied with this arrangement. Soon everyone, including Parvati, heard that Devdas was going to school in Calcutta. Parvati’s heart felt cold with fear. As soon as she could, she cornered Devdas.
“Devda! Are you going away? To Calcutta?”
“Who says?”
“Your dad. Uncle Narayan.”
“Nonsense. I’m shan’t go.”
“And if they make you go?”
“What nonsense. They can’t.”
Parvati was delighted. Seizing her playmate by the hand, she shouted merrily,
“Don’t you ever go, Devda!”
“Never! No one can make me.”
Alas for childish promises! Of course they could make him, and they did. Uncle Nogen said he would be happy to have Devdas lodge with him. A school was chosen and placed Devdas’s name among its students. Finally a carriage came to take Devdas to Calcutta. With him went fine portmanteaux, and the faithful Dharmadas, who would also lodge at Uncle Nogen’s, and whose duties were to look after Devdas, and prevent his running away.
Devdas’s mother wept many tears at his going, blessed him, and implored him to be a good student.
Parvati wept tears too, but many of them were tears of rage. Once again he had disappointed her. For a few days she kept to her room and wept, but then the tears dried up and boredom set in. It was no fun to roam and make mischief without her playmate and ally. No fun to go fishing on her own. She sat down and wrote a letter to Devdas; but how long does writing a letter take? The rest of the day stretched out empty and distasteful before her. When Devdas’s letters came, she was happy, she could spend a whole morning reading it and answering it.
Still the days dragged by, until one day Parvati demanded of her mother,
“Ma, I should like to go back to school.”
“Then you shall, my dear. Have I ever told you not to go?”
The next day, Parvati, accompanied by her maid, appeared before Govind Pandit in the
schoolhouse.
“Please don’t punish the girl, Sir,” said the maid “She has returned of her own will, and is anxious to learn.”
Govind Pandit said to himself “Well, well! “
Aloud, he said “Very well, she will not be punished.”
Summer vacation arrived, and Devdas came home for the holidays. As soon as he could,
he ran to Parvati’s house. He had so much to say and Parvati so little. He talked and talked about Calcutta. What could Parvati say? Nothing much had changed for her. Too soon the summer holidays came to an end, and it was time for Devdas to return to Calcutta. This time too, he protested, but not as much.
So in this way four years passed by. Devdas changed a little every year. He grew fashionable, wearing fine buttoned shirts, a gold watch and chain, and leather shoes. No longer did it satisfy him to fish in the river with a rude bamboo rod. Now he must take his gun and bring down a dozen birds. He talked of cricket and football and politics. Poor Parvati! Poor Parvati of Tal Shonapur village! How could a village girl keep up with such things?
It was summer vacation again. Last summer Devdas had not come home, choosing instead to visit various foreign places. This year his mother, and his father too, insisted on his coming home, so came, a little reluctantly, and waited till the next day before visiting Parvati.
Parvati’s mother and grandmother greeted him affectionately, inquiring after him. After a while he asked,
“Where’s Paru, Auntie?”
“In her room.”
Going up to her room, Devdas found Paru lighting the evening lamps. He called,
“What are you doing Paru?”
Startled, Paru did not reply at first, then she greeted him and stood back.
For some reason that he did not understand, Devdas felt embarrassed before his playmate.
“I’m sort of tired today, Paru. I think I’ll go home now.”
and he left.
Chapter 5
Parvati turned thirteen. This is that strange and magical time when a child suddenly looks like a woman,with all the sweet curves of youth, when her relatives are astonished to find that their little girl has vanished, and her place usurped by a lovely tender woman.
Then they begin to whisper of marriage, they cast through their minds lists of fortunate bridegrooms-to-be. So it happened in the Chokrovorty house, and many such discussions were held
. Parvati ‘s mother grieved to her husband, “Ah, we’ll not be able to keep Paru with us much longer.”
They were not wealthy, just moderately well-off, but if beauty has any value in the world then Parvati had nothing to worry about, she was wealthy. Now, there’s another thing that I should mention – in the Chokrovorty family, a girl fetched a bride-price... Parvati’s father, Nilkontho, however, hated this practice. He felt that this was too much like selling his daughter. Parvati’s mother knew how he felt, and worried that this would get in the way of her daughter ever getting married.
So friom time to time, she would remind Nilkontho that Parvati was of marriageable age.
Besides this, she had nourished a secret hope – that Devdas would one day be her son-in-law. She did not think this an impossibility, she thought that one day she would talk to Devdas, and see how the land lay there. Perhaps Nilknotho’s mother sensed this, and maybe that is why, one day, she spoke to Devdas’s mother.
“Ah, my dear, what friendship there is between your Devdas and our Paru! Its so rare to find such true friends.”
Devdas’ mother said,”It’s only natural, Auntie. Haven’t the two of them grown up together like brother and sister ? Twins, almost.”
“Oh, yes, my dear. Don’t you remember when Devdas first went away to Calcutta, Paru pined and cried, and she was just eight years old! And what joy, what happiness when she received a letter from him. We all know that.”
Devdas’ mother understood what lay beneath these words. In her heart she smiled a little, because she loved Parvati, but more than that she felt a great sorrow, again because she loved both Parvati and her son. This is misfortune, she felt, for Parvati’s family took a bride-price for their daughters. This was too much like the buying and selling of humans, and besides , it was bad luck to have in-laws living next door. And worse – her impulse-driven son and that tomboy Parvati – all very well as childhood friends – but married ? It did not bode well.
Aloud she said, “Auntie, it’s my husband’s wish that Devdas should complete his education before he marries. See what happened to my eldest Dwijdas He married early and his education stopped there.”
Parvati’s grandmother was taken aback. She tried once more.
“I understand, my dear. Yet, Paru, you know has grown, will continue to grow …”
Devdas’ mother stopped her.
“No, Auntie, I cannot mention this to my husband. If I even raise the subject of Devdas’ marriage, he’ll be displeased.”
So the matter ended – but Devdas’ mother could not put the idea aside. At dinnertime, she said casually to her husband,
“Paru’s grandmother was talking of her marriage.”
He nodded.
“True,she’s grown up. They should be doing something about her.”
“That’s exactly it. Auntie mentioned Devdas.”
Narayan frowned.
“And how did you reply ?”
Discouraged by the frown, she said
“What could I say ? They are the greatest of friends. But in a marriage ? Besides, -blood-lines, you know.”
Satisfied, Narayan nodded.
“We are a great family, don’t forget that. An impulsive, thoughtless marriage can be a disaster for the family.”
His wife forced a stiff smile.
“No, no, I paid no attention to the idea,” she backed down.
Well, the principal actors in this play may have buried the matter, but walls have ears, as they say. Whispers and gossip spread until it reached Nilkontho’s ears.
Angry and distressed, he confronted his mother.
“Mother, how could you embarrass me in this way ?”
Nilknotho’s mother stood silent. What could she say ?
Nilkontho continued, “We do not have to beg anyone to come and marry Paru . On the contrary, the grooms will come begging for her hand! My daughter is a beautiful gem, and I promise you, within a month, no – within a week – she will have the choicest of grooms. She need not worry about anything.”
But what of her, for whose sake her father spoke so emphatically ?
Parvati felt as though the sky had fallen and smashed her world. All her life, she’d felt she had some rights over Devdas. At the prospect of losing him, a horrid tumult raged in her heart and dizzied her head.
But Devdas ? Did he feel as Parvati did ? No, I’m afraid he did not. In childhood, he had been her playmate and master, but during the years in Calcutta, studies, amusements, distractions had absorbed him. He did not realize that Parvati , in her simple, undistracted life, thought constantly of him. Thought of him throughout her childhood, and now, taking cautious steps into womanhood, faltered, found that all she had taken for granted – life’s enduring friendships – dissolving before her.
How would a friendship such as theirs endure all through life? not without marriage.
When Devdas had returned after his long absence, when she was no longer a child, he had visited, but there had been a constraint between them, the old ease had gone. Now Devdas studied in the morning, rested in the afternoon, took his walk in the evening. He wore his fine leather shoes , his city clothes, and passed by Parvati’s house. She would observe him from her window, and often her tears would flow. She would remember their happy times together and hated the uneasiness that lay between them now.
Devdas too, remembered the old days. Sometimes he longed to see her and talk to her as he used to, then, on the verge of doing so, a strange embarrassment would come over him, and he would not.
In the village, there were no distractions, no theaters, no music-halls, none of the amusements so common in Calcutta. Devdas thought, ‘Parvati is a simple village girl.’
And Parvati thought, ‘Devdas is now Mr. Devdas Mukherjee.’
Often he did not go near Parvati’s house, and when he sometimes did, he did not run up to visit her. He stood outside, in the courtyard, and called,
“Auntie, how are things ?”
Parvati’s grandmother would say, “Devdas! Come in, my boy.”
And Devdas would reply,”N ot now, Auntie, just going for my walk.”
At night, Parvati could see the lamplight in Devdas’ room, the windows open to the summer breeze. Parvati had always been proud. She could not bear that others would see how much she was hurt by his distant behavior. She did not want sympathy. Worse, what if she got a scolding? How humiliating, no, she would rather die.
Last year, her friend Monoroma’d got married. She had not gone to her husband’s yet, so she often visited Parvati, but Parvati would not talk about Devdas to her. She either avoided, or changed the subject whenever his name came up.
Parvati’s father returned. He had settled on a suitable bridegroom. He was the owner of a vast estate near Burdwan, a wealthy, middle-aged man – almost forty – who had lost his wife the previous year. Now he was anxious to marry again, he needed a mistress for his home and household. This news had not elated the Chokrovorty family. Instead, they were all rather sad. But the man had agreed to a bride-price of three thousand rupees! Incredible! Such a bride-price was hitherto unheard of! So the women held their tongues and made no complaint.
Now, reader, I must ask you to listen to two conversations.
One afternoon when Devdas was sitting down to lunch, his mother joined him.
“I hear Paru is getting married.”
Devdas turned to face her.
“When ?”
“In a month. Yesterday, the bridegroom came to meet her.”
Devdas said, “I didn’t know anything of this.”
“ He is a widower, middle-aged, but extremely wealthy. Paru will live comfortably all her life.”
Devdas continued to eat.
His mother spoke again.
“They had wished to marry into our house.”
Devdas inquired, “and then ?”
His mother made a face.
“Next-door neighbors! Plus that family takes a bride-price.”
Af
ter a few moments of silence, his mother spoke again.
“I mentioned the proposal to your father.”
Devdas asked, “and what did he say ?”
“What could he say! For a great family like ours, marriage is not a joking matter –
so he gave me to understand.”
Devdas said no more.
Another conversation:
That same afternoon, Monoroma and Parvati were talking. Monoroma had just wiped the tears from Parvati’s eyes. Monoroma said, “Is there no way out ?”
Parvati replied, “What way can there be ? Did you choose your husband ?”
“It was different with me. My heart was free – I did not like or dislike – so I suffered no pain. Bat you – you will be cutting off your nose to spite your face.”
Parvati did not answer. She was thinking.
Monoroma asked, “Paru, how old is the bridegroom.”
“Whose bridegroom ?”
“Yours!”
Parvati calculated, “Perhaps nineteen.”
Monoroma was surprised. “What! I thought he was forty!”
Parvati laughed, “Dear Mono! My bridegroom is nineteen, maybe twenty.”
Monoroma gaped. “What’s his name ?”
Parvati said “After all these years, you don’t know ?”
“How would I know ?”
“You don’t know ? Then I’ll tell you.”
Smiling, yet solemn, Parvati whispered “Sir Devdas.”
Startled, Monoroma jumped. Then she said, annoyed, “Don’t tease me. Tell me his name, truly.”
“I did. Truly.”
Angrily, Monoroma said, “If his name is Devdas, why are you crying ?”
Suddenly, Parvati turned pale.
“True, I should not be crying.”
“Paru!”
“What ?”
“Dear Paru, tell me truly! I can’t understand a word you’re saying!”
“I’ve told you everything you asked.”
“I still don’t understand.”
Devdas Page 2