Eyesore/Chapter 13
XIII
Finding Binodini obdurate, Asha was struck with a brilliant idea. "Why don't you show yourself to my husband, my Eyesore?" said she. "Why d'you keep away from him?"
"For shame!"[1] replied Binodini, briefly but firmly.
"Why?" persisted Asha. "I've heard Mother say you're one of us."
"There's no such thing as kin or alien in this world," remarked Binodini sententiously. "'Tis the feeling which makes one kin, without it the nearest is but a stranger."
Asha felt that this admitted of no reply, and that her husband had been unjustly annoyed at Binodini's presence in the house, and was wrong in the distant attitude he had taken up.
That evening Asha begged hard of her husband, "You really must make my Eyesore's acquaintance."
"How brave of you!" laughed Mahendra.
"Why, what's there to be afraid of!" asked Asha innocently.
"From what I've heard of the attractions of your friend she doesn't seem to be a safe person!"
"I'll risk that," said Asha; "but do be serious and tell me, will you or will you not make friends with her?"
Not that Mahendra had no curiosity to see Binodini. As a matter of fact, of late he occasionally found himself eager to have a glimpse of her. This uncalled-for eagerness had made him feel guilty. So he replied, "Where's the time, Chuni? When I read, there are my medical books,—when I have leisure, there's yourself. Where then do I find room for your friend!"
"She's not going to encroach on your time for study," said Asha. "I'll give up some of my share to her."
"You may choose to do so," rejoined Mahendra, "but I can't allow you to."
Mahendra had all along been trying to make out that Asha's friendship for Binodini simply evinced the want of her whole-hearted devotion to her husband. "You are not single-hearted as I am," he would claim with immense pride. Asha would not admit it, of course, and this would lead to quarrels and even tears; but Mahendra always had the best of the argument.
To-day Asha made a concession to Mahendra's proud boast and said, "All right, be friends with my Eyesore to please me."
Mahendra, having compelled Asha to recognize the superior strength of his love, graciously consented to admit Binodini to his friendship. "But see," he stipulated, "that she doesn't come bothering round too often."
Early the next morning Asha went to Binodini's room, and embraced her, while she was still in bed.
"Oh wonderful!" exclaimed Binodini. "How is it that the chakor[2] has left the moon to seek the cloud?"
"These fine sentiments of yours are beyond poor me," said Asha. "Why scatter your pearls in the desert, better keep them for somebody who can pay you back."
"And who may that gifted one be?" asked Binodini.
"Your brother, my husband!" said Asha. "I'm not joking, he's been worrying me about making your acquaintance."
"So he sends for me by his wife's command, does he!" thought Binodini to herself. "Well, he doesn’t get me so easily, that's all."
She would not hear of it. And Asha felt very small, indeed, when she had to tell her husband so.
Mahendra was greatly incensed. To object to meet him! Did she take him for just the ordinary sort of male person! Any one else, by this time, would have contrived a hundred and one excuses to see her and cultivate her acquaintance. She ought to have known him better by the very fact of his having refrained from doing so. Had she come to know him she would at once have realised the difference between him and the ordinary run of men!
As it happened, Binodini only the other day had thought bitterly to herself—"I have been here so long, how is it that Mahendra never even makes an attempt to see me? While I am with Pishima can he not find an excuse to come and visit his mother? Why this supreme indifference? Am I a lifeless image? Am I not a human being, a woman? If he once came to know me, he would find out the difference between me and his spoilt pet of a Chuni!"
Asha proposed to her husband, "Let's pretend you've gone to college, and I'll bring my Eyesore into our room. Then you suddenly come in from behind. That'll serve her right."
"What has she done to deserve this severe punishment?" asked Mahendra.
"No really," said Asha, "I'm fearfully angry. To object to meet even you! I can't rest till I take her pride down a bit."
"As I'm not dying to meet your dear friend," said Mahendra, "I must decline to do so by stealth."
With his hand in hers Asha begged of Mahendra, "As you love me, you must,—just this once. I only want to break through her proud reserve; after that do as you please."
Mahendra kept silent. "Do," pleaded Asha. "There's a darling."
Mahendra's eagerness was getting the better of him, so, with the display of an exaggerated indifference, he agreed.
In the silence of a brilliant autumn noon-day, Binodini, seated in Mahendra's room, was teaching Asha how to embroider slippers on canvas. Asha was absent-minded and continually looking towards the door, so the number of mistakes she made was enough to convince Binodini of her utter incapacity.
At last Binodini got annoyed, and taking away the work from Asha's hands said: "This seems to be quite beyond you. Let me go—I have other things to do!"
"Just wait a little," said Asha. "Let me try once more, I won't make any mistakes this time," and she again pretended to set to work.
Meanwhile Mahendra gently came up to the door behind Binodini, and stood there. Asha, with head bent over her work, shook with silent laughter.
"What have you found to laugh at, all of a sudden?" asked Binodini.
Asha could contain herself no longer. She laughed out aloud, threw the canvas at her companion and said, "You're right, my dear, this is beyond me." With which she threw her arms round Binodini's neck and went off into peals of laughter.
Binodini had seen through the whole thing. Asha's excitement and demeanour had betrayed her. She knew exactly when Mahendra had come and stood in the doorway behind her. And affecting an utter simplicity she allowed herself to be caught with Asha's transparent device.
Mahendra entered saying, "Why should this unfortunate creature be deprived of his share in the joke?"
Binodini gave a great start, adjusted the end of her Sari as a veil, and made as if she would rise to go. Asha held her down by the hand.
Mahendra said with a smile: "May it please you[3] to remain seated and let me depart, or if it so pleases you let us both sit down."
Binodini did not, like the ordinary girl, snatch away her hand and create a scene of embarrassed bashfulness. She replied in a natural voice: "If, sir, I remain only to honour your request, I hope you will not curse me in your heart for an intruder."
"My only curse shall be," rejoined Mahendra, "that for sometime you do lose the power to move away."
"That frightens me not," said Binodini; "for your 'sometime' cannot be a long time, perhaps it has already expired." With which she again essayed to rise.
And again Asha held her by the hand, saying, "Oh do stay a little, for my sake!"
- ↑ A desire to show oneself to a young man not related would be looked upon as forwardness.
- ↑ A mythical bird which is poetically supposed to drink moonlight. There is another, the chatak, which is likewise reputed to live on dew or rain.
- ↑ There is no English equivalent for the Bengali formal style of diction addressed to superiors and new acquaintances.