“Twenty will not keep you for a month.”
“No, it doesn’t. I’m behind three months rent. I shall sell these two remaining bangles, then move somewhere else.”
“Where will you go?”
“I haven’t decided yet. Somewhere cheap, perhaps in a village, where twenty a month will keep me.”
“Why didn’t you go already? If you really didn’t want to continue here, why did you stay on and increase your debts?”
Chondromookhi was silent. She knew the answer, and was loath to admit it to him.
Devdas questioned, “Why don’t you speak?’
Chondromookhi sat down on a corner of the bed, and said slowly, “Don’t be angry. I hoped to see you before I left. Now that you’ve come, I can leave tomorrow. Only, tell me, where could I go?”
Devdas sat up. “You stayed on just in the hope of seeing me? But why?”
“Just a whim! Do you remember, for I remember so very well, the first day you came, you caught my attention. I knew you came from a wealthy family, but that was not the reason. I’ve known so many people, yet I’ve never came across the spirit, the wild yet gentle and vibrant spirit that you have, in any of them. Your blunt words came straight from the heart, and then you left me money as though it was a joke! Do you remember all that?”
Devdas listened quitely as Chondromookhi continued, “Since then I could not forget you. It wasn’t anger, it wasn’t love, it was an awareness, as though I’d come across something new. I began to see things differently. Then you started drinking, it saddened me and yet, -“ Chondromookhi drew close to him, tears flowing from the eyes. “Forgive me, Devdas, forgive me! For when you drank, you talked to me so freely. Without the drink, you pushed me away, but when you were drunk! – I could come close to you! Don’t be angry with me!”
Devdas did not rebuke her, although her words grieved him.
Chondromookhi went on, “Once you remarked on our endurance – how much we women put up with! Neglect, insults, - since then I’ve thought it over many times, and slowly I decided to put a stop to that."
Devdas stood up. “But how will you live?”, he asked.
Chondromookhi replied, “I told you how, already.”
“What if the pawnbroker cheats you of your money?”
Chondromookhi was not to be frightened. “I’ve thought of that. If I’m in trouble, I’ll beg from you.”
Devdas said, thoughtfully, “You may do so. Now you should make preparations to go.”
“I will go tomorrow. I will sell these bangles, then see the pawnbroker.”
Devdas took out his wallet and drew five one hundred rs. Notes from it. Placing them on the pillow, he said, “Don’t sell the bangles. But, yes, see the pawnbroker. And where will you go? To some place of pilgrimage?”
“No, Devdas, pilgrimages are not for me. I’ll not go far from Calcutta. I’ll find some village nearby.”
“Are you going to work for some gentle family?”
Tears came to Chondromookhi’s eyes again. “No, I’ve grown too accustomed to my independence, and I’m not used to physical labor. I wouldn’t be able to bear working as a domestic.”
Devdas smiled sadly. “Will it be safe to live close to the city? Can you trust yourself not to be tempted to return?”
Chondromookhi’s face took on a serene yet joyful look.
“I’m not afraid. Yes, I know the temptation will be there. If I were leaving on a sudden whim, yes , I might be tempted to return. But I’ve given up this life for months, and I’ve not regretted it. I will be safe.”
Yet Devdas shook his head. He said, “Women are changeable creatures. They cannot be trusted.”
Now Chondromookhi came close to him, and took his hands in hers.
“Devdas!”
Devdas looked at her face , and today he did not say as he’d used to “Don’t touch me.”
Chondromookhi’s eyes were wide open, and loving, her voice trembled slightly. Still holding his hands, she said, “Today is the last day. Don’t be angry today.”
Saying this, she looked into his eyes and asked, “Did Parvati do youa great injury?”
Devdas frowned. “Why do you say this?”
Chondromookhi said, steadily, “I need to know. I tell you truly, it hurts me to see you hurting. Besides, I know a great deal already. Yes, you talked to me after you’d been drinking. Yet I don’t believe that Parvati cheated you. Rather, I think you cheated yourself. Devdas, I am older than you, more experienced in worldly things, and I think, no, I’m sure that you are wrong. Women are accused of being fickle, of being shallow. It’s a reputation they don’t deserve. Men give us this reputation. Men can speak freely. We cannot. We cannot say openly what is in our hearts. We are gagged and cannot defend ourselves.”
Chondromookhi stopped to regain her voice, then continued, “I’ve been in the business of love for many years now, yet I’ve loved but once. And I know that love is of great value. I’ve learnt a great deal, you know. I know that love is one thing, and lust or the fascination of beauty, quite another, but they are often mistaken for the same thing. And usually, it is the men who make the mistake. We women are not prey to lust like men are, nor are we driven to despair by the sight of a handsome face. When men speak of love, when they profess it in so many ways, we listen. Even when we do not love, we are loath to hurt you, even when we are disgusted, we hide our aversion, we do not say bluntly “We do not love you.” Instead, we often put on a very good show of loving, and if at some point, the mask slips, the men cry out “You have betrayed me!” and everyone listens, everyone sympathizes. But what of us? Women feel pain as much as men, but they have no right to speak out, and if they speak, who listens?”
Devdas did not speak.
Chondromookhi spoke again, “Perhaps some feelings of tenderness or pity wake in her. She believes that this is love! Quietly, steadily, she deals with the housework; at times of illness or sorrow, she strives with all her heart to bring relief. Then she is praised, her reputation increases; yet, what does she truly know of love? And then one day, some pain, some passion stirs in her…” Chondromookhi paused to look fiercely at Devdas, “then you men cry out, Wicked woman! Adultress! Shame, shame!”
In a swift motion, Devdas placed his hand over Chondromookhi’s moth.
“What are you saying, Chondromookhi!”
Slowly Chondromookhi moved his hand away.
She said, “Have no fear, Devdas, I am not talking of your Parvati.” With that , she fell silent.
After a while, Devdas asked in an absent-minded way, “But what of duty? What of morality?”
Chondromookhi said, “Of course they exist. And because of that, Devdas, she who loves enough, will bear it. There is kind of satisfaction, even peace, in keeping her love in her heart, within her inner self; and she does not want to bring any more sorrow into this pointless life. But as I was saying, Devdas, I feel in my heart, Parvati did not cheat you, rather you cheated yourself. You may find this impossible to believe this now, yet perhaps in time you will understand, and realize that I spoke truly.”
Devdas’s eyes filled with tears. Today, he began to feel that Chondromookhi was right. Chondromookhi saw the tears, but did not try to comfort him. She thought, ‘I have seen you in many moods, I know you well. I understand very well that your reactions are not those of the conventional man. I know, too, that beauty has its fascination – who does not love beauty? But I can’t see you throwing down your life, your vibrant rebellious spirit, in worshipping beauty alone. Parvati may be very beautiful; but I feel that she loved you first, and let you know of it.’
Thinking in this way , another thought, barely audible, escaped her lips. “I know from my own feelings, how much she must have loved you.”
Devdas sat up with a start. “What did you say?”
Chondromookhi said, “Nothing. That is, I said that it wasn’t your beauty that trapped her heart. You are beautiful, but that’s not it.” She sighed. “Only the one who loves you, knows how stro
ng is the power of your attraction . Turn away from you on a whim? There’s no woman on earth who could do that.”
After another silence, she went on softly, “Your beauty goes beyond the eye – it reaches the soul like an ember, and then? It burns like a pyre.”
Devdas said, agitatedly, “Why are you saying all this?”
Chondromookhi smiled, “There is nothing so tiresome as hearing words of love from someone you do not love! But I am only speaking for Parvati, - not for myself.”
Devdas stirred, “Then, let me take my leave.”
“Stay a while longer. I have never had you by my side, sane and sober. I have never talked to you like this, or held your hands like this. What pleasure!” she laughed.
Startled, Devdas asked, “Why did you laugh?”
“Oh, nothing. Only I remembered something, something that happened ten years ago, when I fell in love and left home. Then I used to think – how much in love I was, how much I could love. Then one day, we quarreled so bitterly over a trifle, over a mere, trifling piece of jewelry, that we refused to see each other again. I told myself – he doesn’t love me – or he would have given that piece of jewelry.”
Again Chondromookhi laughed to herself. In the next breath, she said, in a low, somber voice, “Damn the jewelry. Did I know what love was? Tell me, Devdas, everything is possible in this world, isn’t that so?”
Devdas could say nothing. He found himself staring like an idiot and stammering, “I must be going.”
“What are you afraid of? Stay awhile. I’ll not keep you against your will. Those days are over for me. Now I despise myself as much as you despised me. But, Devdas, why don’t you marry?”
Now Devdas breathed again. He laughed a little.
“I should, but I have no inclination.”
“So? You will find happiness in your children. Besides, it will be an opportunity for me. I shall spend my days as a maid in your household.”
Devdas said, laughing, “Very well, I will summon you.”
Chondromookhi said, “Devdas, I want to ask you one more thing.”
“What is it?”
“Why have you stayed here so long?”
“Is there something wrong in that?”
“I don’t know about that. But it is a new thing! You would never speak to me unless you were drunk, in the past.”
Instead of answering her question, he said, “I cannot touch wine now. I’m in mourning for my father.”
Chondromookhi looked at him sadly. “And afterwards? Will you start drinking again?”
“I can’t say.”
Chondromookhi clasped his hands in hers again, and in a voice choked with tears, she said, “Do not, Devdas! Don’t destroy that lovely, wild spirit of yours so untimely!”
Devdas stood up abruptly. “I must leave. And, wherever you go, send me news. If you need anything, ask me, don’t hesitate.”
“Wish me peace and happiness, then. Give me your blessing. One more thing I ask – should you need me, send for me!”
“Very well,” said Devdas, and left.
Chondromookhi, her hands clasped as if in prayer, cried out, “God in heaven! Grant that we will meet again!”
Chapter 14
Two more years passed by. Things happened. Parvati arranged a marriage for Mohendro that met with his approval. The bride, Jolodbala, was both intelligent and efficient and soon Parvati was able to leave most of the household duties with her. Five years had gone by since Parvati married, but she had conceived no children as yet.
Without children or housework to occupy her, her energy and compassion flowed into other channels. She gave money for the upkeep of children in needy families on her estates. She established a guest house for pilgrims and travelers, a hospital for the blind, another guesthouse for the homeless or those incapable of taking care of themselves. She spent the entire allowance that Mr. Choudhury gave her and kept nothing for herself. The servants whispered that expenditure had doubled , even tripled since Parvati came. This kind of talk grew so much that one evening Jolodbala demanded of her husband,
“Are you a nobody in this house?’
Mohendro asked, “Now, why do you say that?”
“Everyone is talking! The servants are all talking! I know your father’s new wife is a great-hearted lady, but- ! you should do something!”
Obviously Mohendro had noticed nothing. Surprised, and a little displeased, he inquired
“What talk?”
Jolodbala spoke grimly,”Mother has no children of her own to love, so she lavished money and affection on the entire world instead.”
Mohendro frowned. “What do you mean?”
“You have eyes! Can’t you see? The guesthouses, the donations to the needy- our expenses have doubled, tripled! She might be ensuring her place in heaven, but what of your children? Are we to give everything away and leave them to be beggars?”
Mohendro said, “Are you talking about Mother?”
Jolod replied, ”Its my misfortune that I have to mention these things to you.”
“Are you complaining about Mother?”
Now Jolod flew into a rage.
“There’s no need for me to make any complaints! I’m just letting you know how things stand, or else I’ll be the one who gets the blame in the end!”
Mohendro’s temper was rising too.
“What do you know about giving alms? This is a great and noble house, a zamindari house!”
Jolod shot back, “Perhaps my family is not so great and noble as yours, but I’d like to know just how many charities your Mother’s dad supported in his day!”
Too annoyed to speak, Mohendro turned away and feigned sleep.
Next morning , he sought out Parvati.
“What kind of wife have you found me, Mother? I can’t live with her, and I’m off to Calcutta!”
Shocked, Parvati asked, “Why?”
“She says such mean things about you, I’ve had enough!”
Parvati had been observing her daughter-in-law’s dissatisfaction for a few days, but now shw only laughed and said,
“Shame on you, son. She’s a lovely girl, and I know it.”
Then Parvati went looking for Jolodbala to speak to her privately. She asked, lightly,
“Have you two been quarreling?”
Jolod had been watching her husband’s preparations to leave with apprehension.
Hearing Parvati’s kindly voice, she burst into tears.
“It’s all my fault,” she wept. “But I had to do it. The maids and servants were all talking so!”
Parvati listened to the whole story. She felt contrite and ashamed of her own selfishness.
Comforting Jolod, she said,”Daughter, you’re right. You know I’m not very worldly, and I’ve been careless about the expenses.”
Next, she spoke to Mohendro. “There’s no cause for you to be angry. It’s only because she has your good in mind that she spoke the way she did. She is a fine, responsible girl.”
After this episode, Parvati cut back on her spending. The guesthouses offered fewer beds, the chapel fewer services. Some travelers were turned away.
Sri Chowdhury asked Parvati,”Have the granaries run dry? What’s up?”
Parvati teased, “Will it do to just give and give? We should put something away, too.”
“For what? Am I going to live forever? Don’t we need a few good deeds to shore up our place in the after-life?”
“Well! Isn’t this selfishness, now? Just to think of ourselves? What about our children, and our children’s children? But be patient for a little while, there’s plenty for us to do yet.”
So Sri Chowdhury was disarmed.
As Parvati’s workload grew smaller, she had more time to think and to worry. Now, there is a definite pattern in the way that people think. People who have something to hope for in their lives, think in one way, but those who have nothing to hope for think in another. The hopeful ones can feel pain or joy or anxiety; their thought are
lively and can tire them out, but the ones without hope – they feel neither pleasure nor pain, yet they can be content, they are untouched as life breezes past them. So it was with Parvati. Filling her days with ritual, and prayer and good works, she had bound her restless, hopeless mind from wandering aimlessly into the mango-orchards of Tal-Sonapur, into the bamboo thickets, and the old schoolroom. So her days passed, she worked, she conversed pleasantly, she served others. People blessed her, compared her with the compassionate goddess Annapurna, some called her an unworldly saint. However, since yesterday, a hardness entered her soul. Her companions did not know the cause, but we do – and this is it - yesterday she received a letter from her friend, Monoroma of Tal-Sonapur, and this is what the letter had to say:
Parvati, we have not written to each other for a long time, and for that lapse we are both at fault. I pray, however, that you will reply to this letter soon. I have been visiting here for almost a month. We sheltered women don’t know what plain-speaking is – if someone dies, we say he has been given to Mother Ganga, - if we are alive, then we say that we are fine! So let me tell you that I am fine, but I’m not writing to talk about myself. There is nothing important that I have to say either. Yet there is something I must write about and I can only write about it in plain words. Since yesterday, I’ve been wondering whether to tell you or not. If I tell you, I will cause you pain, yet I cannot see how I can hold my tongue and not tell you. It will hurt you to hear Devdas’s name, and I weep to think of your pain, but God save us, I thank Him that you, with your proud and sensitive soul, did not fall into his clutches, did not marry him. For if you had, I swear by this time you would have taken your own life in despair, you would have drowned yourself or swallowed poison!
You will hear news of him eventually, but better that you hear from me, your friend, than from idle or malicious gossipers. It’s been almost a week since Devdas came here to Tal-Sonapur. You know that his mother now lives permanently in Benaras, and Devdas has taken up residence in Calcutta. He comes home only to quarrel with his brother and to obtain money. I heard that he comes here from time to time. He stays as long as it takes to get the money, and as soon as he gets it, he leaves.
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