Alas! where were the loving accents of old! There was the sternness of judgment in the tone. O mother[1] Annapurna, on whom are you uplifting your sword? The ill-fated Vihari came to you in darkness to take the benign shelter of your feet!
An electric shock seemed to pass through Vihari's paralysed body. "No more, Kaki," he said, "not a word more. I'm off." He bent his head to the ground, but made no attempt to touch her feet. As a mother offering her child to the gods, Annapurna let Vihari depart into the dark without a word. In a moment the carriage with Vihari in it became invisible.
That very night Asha wrote to Mahendra:
Brother Vihari suddenly turned up here this evening. My guardian has not made up his mind when to go back.—Come soon and take me away.
XXVII
Mahendra was feeling dull and depressed after his excitement and want of sleep the previous night. It was March, and it had already begun to get warm. It was Mahendra's habit to spend the morning at his table in the corner, with his books. This morning he slipped down on to the floor-bed and dawdled on the cushions. It got late, but he would not get up for his bath. The hawkers began crying in the street. There rose the continuous rumbling of carriages on their way to the business quarters. From a house which was being built near by came the droning song of the women concrete-rammers, to which the regular tapping of their wooden mallets beat time. With his over-wrought nerves relaxed at the breath of the balmy South wind, Mahendra felt that stern resolve or strenuous effort would be entirely out of place on a lazy langorous spring morning such as this.
"What's up with you since this morning, friend Mahin?" came the voice of Binodini. "What! still lying down?" she continued as she came up. "Your breakfast[2] is ready, aren't you going to have your bath? What is the matter, friend—are you not feeling well—is it a headache?" With which she put her hand on his forehead to test its heat.
Mahendra, closing his eyes, said in a husky voice: "I'm not feeling very well to-day—I don't think I'll have a bath this morning."
"If you won't bathe, at least have a little something to eat," said Binodini,—and she persuaded him to accompany her to the dining-room, and attended him with anxious solicitude while he ate.
When he had finished, Mahendra came back to his room, and again stretched himself on the floor-bed. Binodini sat near him, and massaged his forehead with her fingers. Mahendra, after lying for a while with closed eyes said: "Friend Eyesore, you haven't taken anything yet. Do go and have something to eat yourself."
But Binodini would not stir. The languid midday breeze brought in the meaningless murmur of the cocoanut trees which fringed the garden wall. Mahendra's heart began to beat faster and faster, and Binodini's breath quickening in sympathy, stirred the hair over his forehead. Neither uttered a word. "Floating as we are on the eternal stream of creation," Mahendra was thinking, "what can it matter if one's boat momentarily touches a particular shore,—and even if it does matter, for how long after all can it matter—?"
With her fingers running over his forehead, Binodini drooped lower and lower, heavy with the fullness of her youth, till the ends of her loose hair fell on his face. His body repeatedly thrilled at each light touch as her locks were blown about by the breeze; spasms at his breast seemed to prevent his breath from coming through. He sat up with a start, saying: "No, I'd better be off, there's my college." And without looking towards Binodini, he rose from the bed and stood up.
"Don't be in such a hurry," said Binodini. "Let me get out your things." With which she fetched him his college suit.
Mahendra went off immediately, but was unable to compose his mind even there. After making several vain attempts to attend to the lectures, he came back home before closing-time. On entering his room he found Binodini lying prone on the floor-bed, with a bolster under her breast, her loose black hair scattered over her back. It seemed she had not
- ↑ The Hindu conceives the Divine Power, in its dual aspect of destruction and beneficence, as feminine, as the mother,—and woman in turn is looked upon as an embodiment of this power.
- ↑ The principal meal, which in some cases is also the breakfast, is taken about midday and must be served in the dining room—the others are looked upon as light refreshments, and may be served anywhere.
