Stories of Bengalee Life/The Lady from Benares/Chapter 2

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Stories of Bengalee Life
by Prabhat Kumar Mukhopadhyay, translated by Self
The Lady from Benares, Chapter 2
2382294Stories of Bengalee Life — The Lady from Benares, Chapter 2SelfPrabhat Kumar Mukhopadhyay

II

Girindra Nath returned home no sooner the lamps were lighted. Maloti after giving him the accustomed welcome, said—"So early to-day?"

Girindra smiled and stroking his wife on the chin playfully, said—"I thought you were feeling lonely and so I made haste."

With beaming eyes Maloti said—"But I am not alone to-day. Guess who has come."

Girindra looked surprised. "Who is it?"—he enquired.

"A Bengalee lady—a widow. She was going home from Benares by the afternoon passenger. But as she had lost her ticket, they stopped her here."

"A Bengalee lady from Benares? Was she alone? How old is she?"

"She was alone. She may be forty or fifty."

Girindra smiled as he heard his wife's conjecture. "You won't find out the difference between forty and fifty till you are forty yourself"—he said.

"What do you mean?"

"Sixteen thinks forty and fifty to be very much the same. But forty refuses to class itself with fifty"—saying which he pinched the cheek of her who was sixteen.

But the playfulness of his attitude did not last long. "I say, there are so many Bengalee families about here, why should she have made us her special choice?"—said he.

"Do you object?"—said Maloti, rather taken aback at the remark.

"I certainly do. Is she good-looking?"

Maloti frowned. "What does that matter?"—she asked, shooting an angry glance at her husband.

"It matters a good deal, indeed. An unprotected female, from Benares too, of all places in the world. I am only thinking what sort of a widow she is."

Maloti understood her husband's meaning.[1]

"Oh, no,"一she said with conviction—"she is not what you suspect. She is perfectly respectable."

"As if you knew"—remarked Girindra sarcastically. "When is she leaving, pray?"

"I didn't ask her."

"The next train leaves at midnight."

"How can she go alone in the night?"

Girindra stood up saying—"Never mind that. I will see her to the station myself. The sooner we get rid of her the better"—and he walked out of the room.

Maloti sat there, looking dejected. Girindra returned a little later and seeing his wife in this condition, said—"what is the matter with you now?"

"It is so awkward for me. She hasn't said anything about leaving to-night. I can't turn her out, can I?"

"Don't you fret about that. If you can't, I will."

Having said this, he walked to a cup-board and took out a bottle encased in a wire netting. He poured out some of its coloured contents in a tumbler and drank it off. During the next quarter of an hour he repeated this process two or three times.

Wonderful were the effects of the coloured liquid! His vexation departed mail speed. He became very lively and began talking to his wife in an exceedingly amiable manner.

In the meantime, the lady from Benares came and stood outside the room. Girindra Nath suddenly went out and pronamed her reverently, saying—"It was so good of you to have come, madam."

The lady spoke not. Girindra then stood up and said in his suavest manner—

"May I ask, where you live?"

"I am living at Benares now."

"Where were you going to?"

"I was going down home,—but unfortunately I lost my ticket—"

Girindra interrupted her by saying—

"Yes, yes, I have heard all that. Pray make yourself quite at home, madam. You could proceed by the same train tomorrow afternoon."

"It is very kind of you, my son. But is'nt there a train leaving at midnight?"

"Of course there is—but you don't want to kill yourself by going out in the raw cold night, do you? If you did—we simply wouldn't let you"—and he burst into a melodious laughter.

Girindra Nath wrapped himself up in a warm shawl and helping himself to a pan, went out to visit friends.

It was late when he came back. Everybody else had gone to bed—only Maloti was sitting up. As soon as she opened the door for her husband, he kissed her on both cheeks. His breath was smelling of liquor—but Maloti had got accustomed to it.

"So late!"—exclaimed the wife.

"There is good news."

"What's it?"

"I have been transferred to Tari Ghat."

"Any increase in pay?"

Girindra Nath mentioned the amount. It was a very good lift. Maloti's face flushed with joy.

They now reached the bed-room. Girindra said that they would have to leave for the new station in three or four days time.

The next morning, before leaving for office, he noticed the lady from Benares. Aside he said to his wife—"Didn't the woman go last night?"

"Goodness—Didn't you yourself tell her to stop till to-day? She was only too anxious to leave."

"Did I?"—said Girindra, much vexed. "Anyhow, I will send a porter to fetch her before the afternoon train. See that she leaves—and you had better be careful about the plates."

Maloti said nothing—she only looked at her husband reproachfully with her large, sad eyes.

After breakfast, Maloti and the Benares lady sat in the courtyard, enjoying the warmth of the sun. They talked a great deal. Never since Maloti left Bengal, had she a chance of enjoying a conversation such as this with a lady friend. She had grown quite tired of talking Hindustani to Bhojooa's mother.

It was two o'clock now. The porter from the station was expected every minute. The Benares lady packed up her things and made ready to go. "I have been with you"—she said—"only one day—and yet I feel it hard to part."

Maloti also entertained a similar feeling. She had obtained the companionship of a lady friend in her solitude and it was very soothing to her.

It was half-past two. The porter could not be long in coming now. Maloti said to her friend—"Suppose you did not go to-day but stayed on a few days more. Couldn't you do that? I feel so lonely at times, all by myself. Sometimes I feel like crying."

"Yes, I could stay over easily—but wouldn't it annoy your husband?"

"Oh, nonsense,"—said Maloti, although she knew that the apprehension was only too well founded. "Well, I will risk it"—said she to herself.—"It surely cannot be very wrong to have this lady with us for a few days longer. Here I am, going through the household drudgery day after day all alone,—couldn't I allow myself a little relaxation by way of having a friend to talk to?—I certainly could—and I will." Then she began to rehearse in her mind as to what she would say to her husband in the evening when he should express his displeasure. She would give it pretty hot to him,—indeed she would.

It struck three, but the porter never turned up. The train came and went, they could hear the distant rumbling. Oh, it was such a relief! Maloti began to chatter away in the most lively strain.

Towards evening, Maloti was sending her maid to the bazaar to buy refreshments for her husband. The Benares lady said—"Why do you use these bazaar things? If I were you, I would prepare them at home myself."

"Who is going to take all that trouble"—laughed Maloti.

"It is no trouble at all. Let me show you to-day how to do it."

  1. When a Bengalee woman has the misfortune to make a faux pas, her people, in order to avoid scandal, often remove her from the family dwelling house and provide her with a house elsewhere, Benares being selected in most cases. It not infrequently happens that after some time these unfortunate women are left to shift for themselves.