He’d herald his arrival shouting, ‘Mahin da, Mahin da.’ He wouldn’t rest till he’d dragged Mahendra from his hibernating nest of the bedroom. He chided Mahendra severely for neglecting his studies. To Asha he’d say, ‘Bouthan, you can’t gulp your food and digest it; you have to chew it. Now you are gulping down the rice greedily—later you’ll be hunting for digestive tablets!’

Mahendra would reply, ‘Chuni, don’t listen to him. He’s jealous of our happiness.’

Behari would say, ‘Since you hold your happiness in your own hands, consume it in a way that doesn’t make others jealous.’

Mahendra would say, ‘But it’s fun to make others jealous. Chuni, you know, the ass that I am, I had nearly handed you over to Behari.’

Behari would blush and mutter, ‘Enough, Mahin da.’

Such exchanges did not endear Behari to Asha. She felt quite hostile towards him, perhaps because at one time her marriage had been fixed with him. Behari knew this, and Mahendra liked to make fun at his expense.

Rajlakshmi often complained to Behari. He said, ‘Mother, the silkworm weaving the thread isn’t as scary as the moth that cuts the bonds and flies away. Who could tell he’d break away from you thus?’

When Rajlakshmi heard that Mahendra had failed his exams she went up in flames like a forest fire in summer. But it was Annapurna who bore the true consequences of his failure. She gave up food and sleep.

6

ONE CLOUDY EVENING, WHEN THE LAND WAS FLOODED WITH THE first shower of the season, Mahendra entered his bedroom cheerfully with a perfume-sprayed shawl on his shoulder and a fragrant garland around his neck. He tiptoed in, meaning to surprise Asha. But as he peeped in he found the window on the eastern corner open wide, the rain lashing in through it; the strong wind had snuffed out the lamp. Asha lay on the mattress, weeping her heart out.

Mahendra took quick steps into the room and asked, ‘What’s the matter?’

The young girl wept afresh. Many minutes passed before Mahendra finally got an answer: Annapurna couldn’t take it any more and had gone away to her cousin’s house.

Mahendra thought irately, ‘If she had to go, why did she have to go today and spoil this nice, rainy evening for me !’ But eventually all his wrath turned towards his mother. She was at the root of this. Mahendra said, ‘Let us go and stay with Aunty—I’ll see with whom Mother bickers.’

He kicked up a great fuss, began to pack his things and sent for bearers. Rajlakshmi understood what was afoot. She came up to Mahendra slowly and spoke to him calmly, ‘Where are you going?’

At first he didn’t answer. When she asked a few more times, he said, ‘I am going to stay with Aunty.’

Rajlakshmi said, ‘You don’t have to go anywhere. I will go and fetch your aunt.’

She got into a palki and left for Annapurna’s new home. Once there, she bowed low and said, ‘Please don’t be angry, Mejo-bou, and forgive me.’

Utterly embarrassed, Annapurna rushed to touch her feet as she wailed, ‘Didi , why do you put me in the wrong thus? I’ll do whatever you say.’

Rajlakshmi said, ‘My son and daughter-in-law are leaving the house because you went away.’ As she spoke, she burst into tears, tears of anger and humiliation.

The two sisters-in-law came back home. It was still raining. Asha had almost stopped weeping and Mahendra was doing his best to get her to smile. It appeared as if the rainy evening could be salvaged still.

Annapurna said, ‘Chuni, you don’t let me stay in this house, and you won’t let go if I go away ! Don’ t I deserve some peace?’

Asha looked up, startled like the wounded gazelle.

Mahendra was immensely irked as he said, ‘Why Aunty, what has Chuni done to you?’

Annapurna said, ‘I went away because I couldn’t stand a new bride going about so brazenly. Why, you wretched girl, did you have to make your mother-in-law cry and fetch me back?’

Mahendra had not known that mothers and aunts were such a great hindrance to the poetry of one’s life.

The next day Rajlakshmi sent for Behari. ‘Son, please tell Mahin that I want to go to our ancestral home in Barasat—I haven’t gone there in ages.’

Behari said, ‘If you haven’t gone there in ages, you need not go now. Anyway, I’ll tell Mahin da, but I don’t think he will agree to it.’

Mahendra said, ‘Well, one does wish to see one’s birthplace. But Mother shouldn’t stay there for too long—the place gets uncomfortable when the rains come.’

Behari was annoyed to see Mahendra agreeing so easily.