Krishna Kanta's Will (Chatterjee, Knight)/Part 1/Chapter 31
CHAPTER XXXI.
Before the date of the commencement of this tale Bhramar had had a son born to her who died within a few days of its birth. To-day, going into that other room and closing the door, Bhramar sat down and wept for that infant of seven days. Throwing herself on the floor, rolling in the dust, with heaving breast, she wept for her son. "Where art thou, my darling? If thou wert still living he could not abandon me! He [i.e., Gobind Lâl] has ceased to love me, but who could have ceased to love thee? Hadst thou lived he must have stayed with me. I am ugly, ill-formed, but who could have called thee ugly? Who is more beautiful than thou? Show thyself for once, little one. Canst thou not, in this time of trouble, let me see thee even once? After death can you appear no more?"
Then Bhramar, with clasped hands, upturned face, and quivering lips, asked of the gods, "Let some one tell me what is my fault, that in this, my seventeenth year only, I am fallen into this strange condition. My son is dead, my husband has forsaken me, and at this age I long for nothing save my husband's love, I wish for nothing else in this world, and have not learned to wish for anything else, why at this youthful age am I rendered hopeless of it?"
Bhramar came to the conclusion that the gods were very cruel. When the gods are cruel what can man do? Nothing but weep, and that was all that Bhramar could do.
Meanwhile Gobind Lâl, having taken leave of Bhramar, went very slowly to the outer rooms. I will speak the truth, he came out drying his tears. At this moment he recognised the girl's simple love, so sincere and impulsive, the stream of which leaped day and night; that priceless love, the possession of which had made him so happy. He reflected that what he was now giving up he would never get again on earth. Then he thought, "I can't undo what I have done. I must go. I have begun this journey, I must go on with it. I don't think I shall return. Whatever happens, the thing is done. I must go."
At that moment if Gobind Lâl had taken two steps back, had pushed open Bhramar's door and said, "Bhramar, I will come again," then all would have been well. Many times Gobind Lâl wished to do this, but, though wishing, he did not do it, he was ashamed to do it. He asked himself, "What is the hurry? When I am inclined I will return." He felt guilty towards Bhramar, and had not the courage to go back and see her. He could not bring himself to any resolution, so he went his way on the path he had entered. Forcibly driving away thought, he went outside, mounted his saddled steed, and whipped it up. As he proceeded on his way Rohini's many beauties sprang up in his heart.