After the meal Mahendra went and sat in his room again. Rajlakshmi couldn’t find Asha anywhere. Eventually, she went down to the kitchen and found Asha boiling the milk for Rajlakshmi. There was no need for this because the maid who usually did this chore stood close by, protesting at this undue interest from Asha. The maid was quite upset about losing her chance of stealing the little bit of milk that she replaced every night with water.
Rajlakshmi said, ‘Bou-ma, what’s this! Go upstairs.’
Asha went upstairs and took refuge in Rajlakshmi’s room. Rajlakshmi was vexed at this behaviour as she thought, ‘If Mahendra has come home for a short while, disentangling himself from that siren’s clutches, Asha will send him back to her with tantrums and ego tussles like this. After all, it was Asha s fault that Mahendra was caught in Binodini’s snares. A man, by nature, is bound to go astray. It is the wife’s duty to keep him on the straight and narrow path, by fair means or foul.’
Rajlakshmi spoke to Asha in harsh and unsparing tones, ‘What kind of behaviour is this, Bou-ma? You’re fortunate enough that your husband has come home; why are you skulking around corners with a sullen face?’
Asha felt she was really at fault and so she ran upstairs in deep distress; without giving herself a chance to think twice, she took a deep breath and stepped into the bedroom. It was past ten o’clock now. Mahendra was standing in front of the bed with a thoughtful expression on his face, dusting the mosquito net slowly. He was beset by a strong sense of indignation against Binodini as he thought, ‘Does she take me for such a worthless knave that she didn’t feel a moment s fear when she sent me to Asha? From this day on if I revert to abiding by my duties towards Asha, who in this world will be there for Binodini to lean on? Am I such an oaf that this course of action is unthinkable for me? Is that how Binodini sees me? I have lost her respect, failed to win her heart—and been humbled by her.’ As he stood before the bed, Mahendra vowed to protest against this disregard from Binodini—by hook or by crook; he’d incline his heart towards Asha once again and take his revenge on Binodini.
When Asha stepped into the room, Mahendra’s careless dusting of the mosquito net came to an abrupt halt. He was faced with the insurmountable problem of finding something to say to Asha.
Mahendra tried to smile, failed miserably and said the first thing that came to his mind, ‘I see that you have also taken to studies, like me. Where are the books that I saw here some time back?’
The words were not merely out of place, but they also seemed like a whiplash to Asha. The fact that the illiterate Asha was trying to educate herself, was a matter she was very sensitive about. Asha was convinced that it was a laughable thing to do. And if there was one person whose derision and mockery she was determined to shield this matter from, it was Mahendra. When Mahendra, after all these days, chose to begin his conversation with a reference to that very subject, Asha cringed in pain like a small child cringes before the cruel lashes of the schoolteacher’s cane. She didn’t say a word as she looked away and stood there holding on to the edge of the teapoy.
Mahendra too realized, the minute the words were out, that it wasn’t the most apt and opportune thing to bring up. But he simply couldn’t think of anything else to say under the circumstances. After the hurricane that had swept their lives, simple words from the past would sound awkward; the heart too was silent, unprepared with new words to say. Mahendra thought, ‘If we get into bed, it may be easier to find words within that enclosed, confined intimacy.’ With that notion Mahendra began to dust the outside of the mosquito net once again. He began to go over his dialogue and his performance in the manner of a new actor standing in the wings and nervously memorizing his lines just before he has to walk on to the stage. Suddenly, a mild sound made him turn around, and he found Asha had left the room.
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THE FOLLOWING MORNING MAHENDRA SAID TO RAJLAKSHMI, ‘MOTHER, I need a room of my own for my studies. I’d like to stay in Aunty’s old room.’
Rajlakshmi was thrilled as she thought, ‘So then, Mahin will stay at home now. He must have resolved everything with Bou-ma. How could he possibly neglect my darling daughter-in-law for too long? And how long can one be spellbound by that siren, neglecting such a chaste wife?’
She replied in haste, ‘Why, certainly Mahin!’ She unlocked the room and set about dusting it and cleaning it with great ceremony. ‘Bou, oh Bou, where is Bou?’ she kept enquiring. After hunting high and low, a tentative Asha was dragged out of a corner of the house. ‘Lay a fresh mattress here. There is no desk here—bring one and put it here. This lamp will not do; send the one from upstairs.’ In this manner, between the two of them, they prepared a princely seat for the monarch of the house in Annapurna’s old room. Mahendra didn’t spare a second glance at his willing slaves, moved into the room with his books and notes, and without wasting a single moment, sat down to study.
In the evening, after his dinner, he went back to his books. No one could tell if he would go up to his bedroom to sleep or if he’d sleep in his room downstairs. Rajlakshmi decked a stiff, doll-like Asha in all her finery and said, ‘Go on, Bou-ma, ask Mahin if his bed should be made upstairs?’
Asha’s feet refused to budge. She stood in silence with her head bent low. An irate Rajlakshmi began to hurl cruel accusations at her. Asha dragged her feet up to the door but simply couldn’t go any further. Rajlakshmi looked at Asha from a corner of the corridor and gestured wildly for her to go on inside.
In desperation, Asha walked into the room. Mahendra heard her footsteps behind him and spoke without turning his head, ‘I’ll be here for some more time—tomorrow I have to wake up early to study—I shall sleep here tonight.’
Oh, the shame of it! Was Asha here to persuade Mahendra to go and sleep upstairs?
As she stepped out of the room, Rajlakshmi asked her eagerly, ‘What’s the matter, what happened?’
Asha said, ‘He is studying, he ll sleep downstairs. She went into her own dishonoured bedroom. There was no peace to be had anywhere—every little inch of this earth flamed like the desert under an afternoon sun.
A little late in the night there was a banging on Asha’s closed door. ‘Bou, Bou, open the door.’
Quickly, Asha held the door open. Rajlakshmi had braved the stairs despite her asthma and now she stood there gasping for breath. She tumbled into the room and flopped down on the bed. When she recovered her breath, she spoke in hoarse tones, ‘Bou, what are you up to? Why have you come up and shut the door? Is this a time for petty tantrums? Your misery should teach you a few lessons! Go on, go downstairs.’
Asha spoke softly, ‘He wishes to be alone.’
Rajlakshmi said, ‘And that is that? He may have spoken in anger, without thinking twice, but you don’t have to take him up on his word. You cannot afford to be so arrogant. Go now, go quickly.’
In times of trouble, the mother-in-law had no secrets from the daughter-in-law. She wanted to use the only weapons she had to bind Mahendra irrevocably.
As she spoke fervently, Rajlakshmi again had trouble breathing. She calmed herself a bit and rose. Without a word Asha held her and walked downstairs with her. She took Rajlakshmi into her bedroom, sat her down on the bed and began to plump up the pillows and cushions behind her. Rajlakshmi said, ‘Let it be for now, Bou-ma. Send Sudho, the maid, to me. You go on, don’t linger here.’
This time Asha did not hesitate. She walked out of her mother-in-law’s room and headed straight for Mahendra’s room. The book lay open in front of Mahendra—he sat with his feet hoisted on the desk and his head resting on the backrest, thinking intently. When he heard her footsteps, he looked up in surprise and turned his head, as if wishing the fleeting appearance of the one in whose thoughts he was lost. When he saw Asha he composed himself, put his feet down and pulled his book to him.
Mahendra was quite stunned today. Usually Asha never appeared before him thus, so boldly. If their paths ever happened to cross, she moved away immediately. But today, at this
late hour, her sudden entry into his room was really quite incredible. Without lifting his head from his book, Mahendra sensed that Asha showed no signs of leaving. She came and stood in front of him, still and silent. Now he could no longer pretend to go on reading. He looked up. Asha spoke in clear, ringing tones, ‘Mother’s had an asthma attack. Could you please take a look at her?’
Mahendra asked, ‘Where is she?’
Asha said, ‘In her bedroom; she’s not able to sleep.’
Mahendra said, ‘Come on then, let me go and take a look.’
After ages, this tiny communion with Asha made Mahendra feel very buoyant. Silence had stood between them like an impregnable fortress. Mahendra had no weapons to tear the barrier down. Asha had suddenly opened a door to the fort with her own hands.
Asha waited outside Rajlakshmi’s room, while Mahendra went in. Rajlakshmi viewed this inopportune arrival of Mahendra with anxiety—she feared he had sparred with Asha once again and was ready to leave the house. She said, ‘Mahin, haven’t you gone to bed yet?’
Mahendra said, ‘Mother, is your asthma troubling you?’
This question, long awaited and coming so late, piqued the mother deeply. She realized that Mahin had come to ask after her health today only at Asha’s insistence. This anxious agony only augmented her trouble and she spoke with difficulty, ‘Go on, go to bed—my asthma is nothing.’
Mahendra said, ‘No, Mother, it’s best to do a check-up; this isn’t something one should ignore.’
Mahendra knew that his mother had a weak heart and the look on her face was not too reassuring—he was anxious.
Rajlakshmi said, ‘There’s no need for a check-up; my ailment is beyond cure.’
Mahendra said, ‘All right, let me get you a sleeping pill for tonight and tomorrow we shall examine you thoroughly.’
Rajlakshmi said, ‘I’ve had enough of pills; they don’t work on me. Go on, Mahin, it’s very late—you go and sleep.’
Mahendra replied, ‘I’ll go as soon as you feel a little better.’
Miffed and hurt, Rajlakshmi addressed Asha, concealed behind the door, and said, ‘Bou, why did you bother Mahin so late at night and fetch him here?’ As she spoke she could scarcely breathe.
Asha stepped into the room now and addressed Mahendra in soft yet firm tones, ‘Go on, you go to sleep. I’ll stay with Mother.’
Mahendra called Asha out of the room and said to her, ‘I am sending for some medicine; there’ll be two doses in the bottle. Give her one dose first and if she still cannot sleep, administer the second dose after an hour. If it gets worse in the night, don’t forget to send for me.’
Mahendra went back to his room. This new face of Asha was a novelty to him. This Asha had no diffidence, no inadequacy; this Asha was confident of what she was doing and she wasn’t begging for protection from him. Mahendra may have rejected his wife, but he felt a growing respect for the daughter-in-law of the house.
Rajlakshmi was secretly pleased that Asha had fetched Mahendra out of concern for her health. What she said, however, was, ‘Bou-ma, I sent you to sleep—why did you drag Mahendra here?’
Asha didn’t answer her and simply began to fan her as she sat behind her on the bed.
Rajlakshmi said, ‘Go to bed, Bou-ma.’
Asha spoke softly, ‘He has asked me to stay here.’ Asha knew that Rajlakshmi would be pleased to hear that Mahendra had instructed her to serve his mother.
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WHEN IT BECAME OBVIOUS TO RAJLAKSHMI THAT ASHA WASN’T ABLE TO hold on to Mahendra, she felt, ‘If my illness is the pretext needed to hold Mahin back, so be it.’ She was afraid that she might be completely cured soon. She began to pull the wool over Asha’s eyes and to throw her medication away.
Mahendra, in his preoccupation, didn’t notice anything. But Asha perceived clearly that Rajlakshmi’s ailment had worsened. She thought that perhaps Mahendra wasn’t giving enough thought to his choice of drugs and treatment; so lost was he in his own confusions that even his mother’s illness couldn’t prod him out of his daze. Asha couldn’t help feeling disgusted at the extent of Mahendra’s downfall. If a man was ruined in one way, did he have to let everything go in this manner?
One evening, as she was in the throes of pain, Rajlakshmi suddenly recalled Behari. It was ages since he had visited them. She asked Asha, ‘Bou-ma, do you know where Behari is right now?’ Asha realized that it was Behari who had always nursed Rajlakshmi when she was sick and that’s why she was thinking of him now. But Behari, once the bulwark of the household, had also been thrown out. Had he been here, Asha thought, Rajlakshmi would have received proper treatment—he wasn’t as heartless as Mahendra. She heaved a sigh.
Rajlakshmi said, ‘Has Mahin had a fight with Behari? That’s very wrong, Bou-ma. Mahin doesn’t have a greater well-wisher, a better friend than him.’ As she spoke tears gathered in her eyes.
Many memories flitted slowly through Asha’s mind. She recalled how many times, in various ways, Behari had tried to warn the stupid and unseeing Asha, thereby earning her displeasure; today she cursed herself for it. Why should fate spare a foolish woman who had hurled abuses at her true ally and drawn to her bosom her one and only foe? The poignant sighs that Behari had heaved as he left the house were bound to echo between the walls and have an effect someday.
Rajlakshmi was silent and thoughtful for a while before she spoke again, ‘Bou-ma, if Behari had been here, he could have saved us in these times of trouble—things wouldn’t have gone so wrong.’
Asha sat mutely, lost in her thoughts. Rajlakshmi sighed and said again, ‘If he hears I am sick, he won’t be able to stop himself from coming over.’
Asha realized that Rajlakshmi wanted this news to reach Behari. She was evidently feeling quite helpless in his absence.
Mahendra was standing by the moonlit window in silence, with the room in darkness. He was tired of studying. The house did not provide him any happiness. When you are estranged from your closest ones, it is not possible to discard them like strangers; neither can you draw them to your bosom comfortably. This weighs heavy on the heart and constricts one’s breath. Mahendra hesitated nowadays before going to his mother; if she ever saw him approach, she looked at his face with such anxious panic that he felt wounded. If Asha ever came anywhere close to him, he had trouble finding words to say; but the silence between them was equally troubling. His days had turned into a living nightmare. Mahendra had vowed that he wouldn’t set eyes on Binodini for at least seven days. Two days were left for the week to be over—how would he endure those two days?
Mahendra was lost in these thoughts when he heard footsteps behind him. He knew Asha had entered the room. He stood still, pretending not to have heard her. Asha realized his pretense, but she didn’t leave the room. She stood behind him and said, ‘There’s something I have to say—I’ll finish saying it and then I’ll leave.’
Mahendra turned around and said, ‘You don’t have to leave—why don’t you sit for a while?’
Asha paid no heed to this courteous offer and continued, ‘Behari-thakurpo needs to be told about Mother’s illness.’
The very mention of Behari was like adding insult to injury for Mahendra. He composed himself and said, ‘But why? Don’t you have faith in my treatment?’
Asha was already too upset at the thought that Mahendra wasn’t working hard enough on his mother’s treatment and so she blurted out, ‘Well, Mother’s ailment hasn’t abated one bit! It seems to get worse every day.’
The covert criticism cloaked in this simple statement of fact hit Mahendra hard. Never before had Asha hurled such masked allegations at him. His ego was wounded and he spoke in bemused derision, ‘I suppose now I’ll have to take medical lessons from you.’
Asha’s deep feeling of hurt got a fresh jolt at this disparagement. The room was in darkness; the ever-silent Asha gathered her courage and spoke with resolute vigour, ‘Perhaps not medical lessons, but you can surely take lessons on caring for your mother.’
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Such a riposte from Asha left Mahendra gasping for words. The unfamiliar harshness of Asha’s words made Mahendra turn vicious and he said, ‘You are well aware why I have forbidden your Behari-thakurpo to enter this house—I suppose you’ve begun to miss him again!’
Asha stormed out of the room. She felt impelled to leave because of an onrush of shame. The shame wasn’t for herself. How could the person who was himself neck-deep in culpability utter such baseless allegations? Such brazenness could not be covered over even by mountains of mortification.
The moment Asha left, Mahendra perceived his total defeat. He had never imagined that Asha would, in any situation, ever be capable of reprimanding him thus. He realized that his status had now been dragged down from the throne to the ground. He was suddenly gripped by a fear lest Asha’s anguish turned into disgust.
Meanwhile, the very mention of Behari filled him with anxious qualms about Binodini. He didn’t know whether Behari was back from his trip. In the meantime, Binodini may have found him and the two may even have met up. Mahendra could scarcely honour his vow now.
That night Rajlakshmi’s ailment took a turn for the worse and she sent for Mahendra. She spoke with great difficulty, ‘Mahin, I would dearly love to see Behari—he hasn’t come around for ages now.’
Asha was fanning her mother-in-law as she sat with her eyes lowered to the ground. Mahendra said, ‘He is not here; he left on a trip to the west or somewhere.’
Rajlakshmi said, ‘I feel certain he is right here and he’s just staying away because he is upset with you. For pity’s sake, please go and look him up tomorrow.
Mahendra said, ‘All right, I will.’
Today everyone was reaching out for Behari. Mahendra felt that no one in the whole wide world wanted or desired him.
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