Indira and Other Stories/Indira/Chapter 3
III.
My first idea was that I should soon be able to save enough out of my wages to be able to go home. But no one seemed to know where Mahespur was, nor did I meet anyone who could tell me how to go there. Myself a life-long denizen of the seclusion of a zenana, I did not even know in what district my home was, or in what direction it lay. How then could anyone else guide me? In such fashion a whole year glided by. Then, all of a sudden, a ray of light shone on my darkness. It was as if I had seen a familiar star in a break in the clouds in the rainy season.
One day Ramram Babu called me to him and said:
"I have asked a very important guest to dine with me to-day. He is my banker, and I owe him money. See that to-day's meal is exceptionally good, otherwise I shall be greatly annoyed."
I did my very best. The dining-room was in the women's apartments, and so I was ordered to wait at table. Only Ramram Babu and his guest sat down to eat.
I had already served the first course when they arrived. Presently I went to serve the second course, a dish of meat. I was of course closely veiled, but when was woman's wit obscured by so trifling a matter as a veil? I managed to take a good look at my master's guest.
I found that he was about thirty years old. He was fair of complexion, and extremely good-looking. It was easy to see that he was the sort of man we women admire. Let me admit that as I stood with the dish of meat in my hand, I had another good look at him. While I was thus gazing at him through my parted veil, he raised his head and perceived that my looks were directed to his face. Our Bengali men say that as a light shines brighter in the darkness, so are a veiled woman's eyes brighter than an unveiled woman's looks. It seemed to me that he too was of this opinion. He smiled faintly, and once more bent over his food. I was the only one who caught his smile. In my confusion, I put all the meat into his plate, and hurried away!
I was half ashamed, half delighted. Let me make the dreadful admission that I was more pleasured than ashamed. This was the first smile that had ever given me such joy—no one had ever smiled at me quite like that before, and all the smiles of all the men in the world seemed like poison in comparison.
And now I am sure that all my lady readers who love their lords will frown and say, "Shameless one, but this is falling in love!" It is perfectly true, I had fallen in love. But reflect. Though I was a married woman, I had been practically widowed all my life. I had only seen my husband once at our marriage, and I was then only ten years old. All the desires of my youth were unsatisfied. When the net was thrown into such deep and unplumbed water, what wonder that it raised a big wave!
I must admit that in making this confession, I cannot be acquitted of blame. Whatever its cause, or even if there be no cause, sin is sin. A mere pleading of motives is no excuse for sin. But in all my life this was my first sin—and my last sin—of that kind.
When I returned to my kitchen, the thought came into my mind, "I have seen him before somewhere." To dissipate my doubts, I again went and secretly looked at him. I looked at him attentively, and then I knew!
At this moment, Ramram Babu called to me to bring in a fresh course. I had prepared many dishes. I took one of them into the dining-room. I could see that the guest had not forgotten the look he had intercepted. He said to Ramram Babu, "Ram Babu, tell your cook-maid that her cooking is excellent."
Ram Babu did not understand the secret meaning of this speech. He merely observed, "Yes, she does not cook badly."
But I understood, and mentally resolved that he should know what a clever cook could do to disturb a young man's fancies.
The guest went on, "What surprises me is that one or two of the dishes remind me of the way they cook in our country!"
Again I thought, "it is he!" As a matter of fact I had cooked one or two of the dishes according to the recipes of our quarter of Bengal. Ramram said: "May be, may be, the girl is not from this part of the world."
The guest seized the opportunity, and looking me boldly in the face, he asked, "Where is your home, my girl?"
I thought to myself, shall I tell him, or shall I not? Finally I decided that I would tell him.
But another doubt arose, should I tell him the truth or a lie? I decided that I would tell him a lie. Why I came to this decision, He alone knows who has made the mind of woman deceitful beyond understanding and fond of crooked ways. I thought that if need be, I could tell the truth at any time. Let me deceive him for the present. So it was that I replied:
"Our home is at Kaladighi!"
He was visibly startled. After a time he asked in a gentle voice, "Which Kaladighi? You don't mean Kaladighi of the Dacoits?"
I blush to say I answered, "Yes".
He did not utter another word.
All this time I was standing with the dish in my hand. I had quite forgotten that it was very unbecoming conduct in a Hindu cook-maid to remain standing thus in the presence of men. I noticed that he was no longer enjoying his food. Ramram Babu too observed this and asked:
"Upendra Babu, you are not eating?"
This was all that I was waiting to hear. Upendra Babu! Even before I had heard the name, I knew he was my husband.
I ran into the kitchen, and throwing down the dish, seated myself in sheer ecstasy of joy. Ramram Babu called out, "What was that which fell?" It was merely a dish of meat, after all!