Stories of Bengalee Life/A Pseudonym/Chapter 1
A PSEUDONYM
CHAPTER I
AFTER many struggles with the Press, I succeeded in getting out the holiday number of the Light of Bengal before the Durga Puja. I was giving instructions to the manager as to the despatch of the journal when Satish appeared in English costume, smoking a cigarette. He said, "Come to Darjeeling."
Satish was the friend of my boyhood. We studied in the same class, sat together, worked together. The Master used to call us Castor and Pollux.
Having matriculated, we came to the College at Calcutta; but from that time our lives began to diverge. Satish tried in every way to adopt the manners of Europeans; while I became devoted to my mother-tongue. Satish jeered at me for constantly reading and writing Bengali; while I lost no opportunity of having a fling at him for imitating Europeans. Later Satish went to England and returned a barrister, having completely adopted English ways.
We were no longer, as in boyhood, one soul and spirit. Satish had become changed. He no longer confided all his thoughts to me. Nevertheless we were excellent friends. He said—"Come to Darjeeling."
"When do you go?"—I asked.
"To-day."
"Goodness! Where is the time?"
Satish opened his watch, and holding his cigarette between his teeth, said—"It is only ten; the train goes at four. Six hours—360 minutes. Heaps and heaps of time."
"My good fellow"—I replied—"you have become a sahib. Can I, a black man, emulate your speedy way of doing things? By the time I have bathed and dined it will be twelve o'clock. Then some little rest—"
"Nonsense! I will not take your excuses."
"If you wanted to go to Darjeeling, why did you not tell me two days ago?"
"It was only this morning that I received the invitation from Dr. Sen."
"What!"—I exclaimed in astonishment—"Is Dr. Sen at Darjeeling with his family—and his daughter?"
"Certainly"—and he laughed a little.
That Dr. Sen's learned daughter Nirmala had captivated my friend was an open secret. I said—"How terrible! Must we wait till four o'clock? Is there no earlier train?" Satish, also sighing like an actor, said—"No." I sang—
"From her dear presence how can I stay,
Counting the moments and hours away?"
Although I have never been in love with a woman myself, I am pretty familiar with the affair. To have suggested even a day's delay to Satish would have been like trying to preach the tiger into vegetarianism; so I resolved to go. Hastly collecting my things we set out by the four o'clock train.