- 4 -

Minati alighted from the bus and walked towards her house.  Her duty hours in the Block Development Office ended at five-thirty.  But she never remained in the office till then.  A bus going towards her village passed by  her office at about five-fifteen.  She normally boarded this bus to return home.  Even then, it became dark by the time she reached her village.  Now the winter was approaching and the evening breeze had become cool.  The daylight faded before six.  Supply of electricity was erratic and frequently it went off plunging the entire village into darkness.  Minati felt a bit scared to walk from the bus-stop to her house when it was pitch dark all around. 

Minati felt the presence of someone walking by her side.  The man was Natabar.  Nowadays he closed his shop before six.  Then he went home, took off his banian and lungi, all soaked with sweat, and changed to a better dress.  For this purpose he had purchased a few shirts and had a couple of trousers stitched at the Sub-Divisional town.  For footwear also he wore a pair of newly purchased stylish sandals.  Then he waited for Minati to alight from the bus.  He chose a spot slightly away from the bus-stop to wait for her - from where he could see Minati clearly.  As Minati walked towards her house Natabar followed  her, keeping a decent distance as long as they were on the metalled road, mindful of not attracting anyone’s attention.  Once Minati was on the pathway he walked faster to catch up with her. 

Initially Minati used to feel embarrassed.  Now she did not feel so.  After all she had a guard to provide security - and that too free of cost.  Moreover this guard was her ardent admirer.  A healthy, young man adored her - she had no reason not to feel satisfied about it.  Natabar did not go up to the entrance of her house.  He stopped at a distance while Minati entered the house.  Then she went to her own room and looked appraisingly at her own image in the mirror - face to face - also from different angles.  She adjusted her saree a little.  When she was in the bus, a tuft of her hair had fallen on her forehead because of the drag of the wind.  She combed it back to the proper place.  At times she even hummed a tune under her breath.  Then she had a wash and sat relaxed on the bed.  Now Radharani was to serve her tea and snacks - puffed rice with scraped pulp of a coconut.  

Electricity went off and it became pitch dark.  Although the pathway was well known to Minati she stumbled over a small piece of stone, lost her balance and was about to fall on the ground.  Natabar grabbed her hand.  Minati steadied herself.  But even then he did not let go of her hand.  And told her in low voice, Minati, you are pretty - very, very pretty. 

Minati’s complex was dark brown and she was plain looking.  Only a person desperately in love with her would find her pretty.  But Minati liked the compliment and did not make any effort to free her hand which Natabar held.   She only said in a soft, indulging tone, Someone may see us in this position.  Natabar clasped the fingers of his left hand with those of Minati’s right hand.  He lowered his face and whispered in the ear of Minati, Why don’t you marry me, Minati?

Minati walked on silently.  Natabar took the advantage of the darkness to come closer to her.  In a low voice almost choked with emotion Natabar expressed his feelings to Minati - his monologue sounded like the rustle of the leaves of a tree caused by a soft breeze.  Then Minati saw the faint silhouette of her house.  She softly pushed Natabar away from her.  It was a very tender push.  And with utter reactance she freed her hand from Natabar’s grip.  She sighed and said, Now go home, Natabarda.

It was a village and the tongues wagged.  Radharani had started hearing about the intimacy of her daughter-in-law with Natabar from different sources.  The women of the village had done their best to instigate her by passing snide remarks.  A few days before Naren Ghosh had called on Radharani.  He had chosen the daytime for the intended discussion as at that time Minati was away.  Suren’s mother - he said, you better be careful of the relationship of your daughter-in-law with Natabar.  She may even elope with him - I am afraid. 

Radharani remained quiet.  Only she kept her stare fixed on Naren Ghosh.  The gentleman shook his head to add force to his argument and said, I suggest that you ask Minati to give up her job.  The most appropriate place for a widow is her mother-in-law’s house.  I will take care of Natabar.  He will have to be soundly thrashed and that will bring him back to this senses. 

In her room Minati had lit a kerosene lamp and was changing her dress. Radharani entered and said - her voice sharp and shrill - Well Minati, why do you mix so intimately with Natabar?  Everyone in the village is talking about it.  Don’t you remember that you are a widow?  Aren’t you ashamed of your conduct.?

Minati heard what her mother-in-law said.  And that broke the barrier of whatever inhibition she had about her affair with Natabar.  She turned to Radharani and looked straight into her eyes.  Let the people talk - she said.  We don’t care.  We have decided to get married.

Radharani stood petrified for a moment.  Then she gave vent to all her spite against Minati - like the eruption of a volcano.  You bloody whore, you witch, you have killed my son, you took all his money, and now you talk of getting married!  Get out of my house - now - at this very moment. 

Minati was not to remain subdued.  She now worked in a Government office and earned a salary.  She was respected by all the staff of the office.  Everyone called her Didi - they knew that she was the widow of a brave soldier.  Her tongue also spewed venom - Shut up, you vile old bitch.  Will you have anything to eat if I leave this house?  I have a job, I receive a pension - what do you earn?  Who will feed you if I stop giving you money?  That Naren Ghosh?  Why not go and try to sleep with him?  He won’t even touch you now - the old hag you are. 

Radharani could not speak.  She was seething with uncontrollable fury.  She lunged for the hair of Minati and grabbed a thick tuft.  With the other hand she started showering blows on Minati. 

Minati wrenched herself free.  And gave a push to Radharani with such a force that she lost her balance and fell on the wall.  Just wait - Minati said - tomorrow I will complain to my boss - the BDO - that you have beaten me up.  He will send policemen to arrest you.  They will tie up your hands and drag you to the Police Station. 

Radharani was hurt as her forehead had hit against the wall.  She stood gasping - leaning on the wall.  Her anger also subsided.  She was now scared.  Minati’s threat might not be false.  She was a Government servant - after all.  What would happen if she really complained to the Police?

Minati waved the index finger of her right hand at the face of Radharani threateningly.  She said, You will starve - and that will serve you right. 

Minati took the gamchha and a cake of soap and went to the adjacent pond for a wash.  Radharani stood there, not knowing what to do.  Then she went towards the kitchen, massaging with her palm that part of her forehead which was hurt.  It was swollen and had started paining. 

- 5 -

This time the winter was prolonged.  Although it was the end of February the chill continued.  Radharani had suffered badly in this winter.  She had caught a bad cold - which left her with a persistent cough.  She had become very thin,  there were dark patches under her eyes, her cheekbones had become prominent.  No electric light glowed in this house anymore.  The connection had been withdrawn since she could not pay the bill.  After the sunset Radharani moved inside the house with a small kerosene lamp in her hand.  To anyone who saw her from a distance she appeared like a ghost wrapped in a long piece of white cloth.  She kept the lamp burning just till she finished cooking her meal, then she blew it off.  She did not have money even to buy kerosene oil.  Occasionally she worked as a menial hand at the household of her neighbours.  They gave her a small bit of money - at times some rice and pulses.  On not too frequent occasions she did the job of cleaning the house of Naren Ghosh - that also helped her to earn some money.  If she had no rice to cook she managed her meal with puffed rice.  The cough was now her constant companion - it became intense when she lay on the bed.  She had to sit up on her bed when her chest pained because of the nagging cough.  She pressed her chest with both her hands and panted - till the cough subsided - and then she again tried to go to sleep. 

Minati had left this house a few months ago.  A Marriage Registrar was available at the Sub-Divisional town.  She and Natabar had gone to him and he solemnised their marriage by obtaining their signatures on legal documents.  Three of Minati’s office-colleagues had accompanied them.  They signed as witnesses.  On his own homestead land Natabar had built a brick-made room for Minati - befitting to the status of his working wife.  He had also built a bathroom with walls and the door made of corrugated tin.  He had plans to gradually enlarge his house.  Their original earthen room was now used by his old step-mother.  She had a great deal of work to do - washing the clothes, cleaning the house, to wait on Minati.  Now Natabar engaged a boy to work at this shop of telebhaja.    Minati had arranged for the boy.  Bankim Garai served tea to the employees of the Block office.  He had spawned a large number of children and was hardly in a position to feed so many mouths with his meagre income.  The Block Development Officer had been kind enough to allow him to set up a tea stall in a small space at a remote corner of the office building.  Perhaps that was the reason why the Government Officer asked for tea from Bankim a number of times every day - for himself and for his guests - but normally it did not occur to him to pay for the tea.  The eldest son of Bankim was in his mid-teens.  Natabar engaged him to prepare the telebhajas at his shop.  He was given the mid-day meal as remuneration.  In addition he received ten rupees a day.  Natabar’s shop remained open throughout the week.  So there was no holiday for the boy.  In the evening Natabar closed his shop and took all the money collected from the sale of telebhaja.  As a matter of routine Natabar searched the pockets of the shirt and the shorts of the boy before giving him the daily wage of ten rupees.  The boy was apparently simple and honest but as a prudent businessman Natabar was obliged to take precaution against the possibility of the boy’s stealing any money.  Then he waited for Minati to return and from the bus-stop both of them walked home together.  Now Minati kept a torch in her handbag.  Occasionally the road became dark because of fault in the supply of electricity.  At that time the torch came to their help - its small round shaped light focussed on the pathway and guided them home. 

Radharani was moving with a lighted kerosene lamp in her hand from one room of her house to another after the sunset.  It was  the religious ritual to illuminate all the rooms of the house in the evening and this was the only way she could observe the ritual after the supply of electricity to  her house had been disconnected.  The door of the room which had been used long ago by Suren and Minati was closed and bolted form outside.  Radharani never entered the room after Minati had left this house.  Her ex-daughter-in-law had taken away with her as many things as possible.  She had left behind some broken and dilapidated goods and furniture - those were now stacked in a heap outside the door of the room.  A broken leg of a cot, a termite eaten low alter, a packing box, a dirty heap of old and torn clothes - all remained in that condition. 

Something in the heap glittered as the light emanating from the lamp fell on it.  Radharani went near the stack and pulled out the object.  It was a small photograph, bound by a metal frame and covered by glass.  The metal of its frame had reflected the light.  It was Suren’s photograph - he was dressed in Army uniform and donned the cap of a soldier.  The photograph was taken at the time of his joining the Army.

Radharani put the lamp down on the ground and with her saree cleaned the dust which had settled on the photograph.  Then came a bout of cough.  As she coughed painfully she walked back to her own room - holding the photograph in her hand.  She kept it on her bed - under her pillow.  The cough persisted.  She pressed her hands against her chest to get some relief.  Then she walked at her usual slow pace towards the kitchen.  She had to cook the rice for her meal.

(Concluded)

*************