Once I thought I should turn back. But I could
not. I sat down on the ground near Bimala and
placed my hand on her head. At the first touch
her whole body seemed to stiffen, but the next moment
the hardness gave way, and the tears burst out.
I gently passed my fingers over her forehead.
Suddenly her hands groping for my feet grasped them
and drew them to herself, pressing them against her
breast with such force that I thought her heart would
break.
Amulya is due to return from Calcutta this morning.
I told the servants to let me know as soon as he
arrived, but could not keep still. At last I
went outside to await him in the sitting-room.
When I sent him off to sell the jewels I must have
been thinking only of myself. It never even
crossed my mind that so young a boy, trying to sell
such valuable jewellery, would at once be suspected.
So helpless are we women, we needs must place on
others the burden of our danger. When we go to
our death we drag down those who are about us.
I had said with pride that I would save Amulya—as
if she who was drowning could save others. But
instead of saving him, I have sent him to his doom.
My little brother, such a sister have I been to you
that Death must have smiled on that Brothers’
Day when I gave you my blessing—I, who
wander distracted with the burden of my own evil-doing.
I feel today that man is at times attacked with evil
as with the plague. Some germ finds its way
in from somewhere, and then in the space of one night
Death stalks in. Why cannot the stricken one
be kept far away from the rest of the world?
I, at least, have realized how terrible is the contagion—like
a fiery torch which burns that it may set the world
on fire.
It struck nine. I could not get rid of the idea
that Amulya was in trouble, that he had fallen into
the clutches of the police. There must be great
excitement in the Police Office—whose are
the jewels?—where did he get them?
And in the end I shall have to furnish the answer,
in public, before all the world.
What is that answer to be? Your day has come
at last, Bara Rani, you whom I have so long despised.
You, in the shape of the public, the world, will
have your revenge. O God, save me this time,
and I will cast all my pride at my sister-in-law’s
feet.
I could bear it no longer. I went straight to
the Bara Rani. She was in the verandah, spicing
her betel leaves, Thako at her side. The sight
of Thako made me shrink back for a moment, but I overcame
all hesitation, and making a low obeisance I took the
dust of my elder sister-in-law’s feet.
“Bless my soul, Chota Rani,” she exclaimed,
“what has come upon you? Why this sudden
reverence?”
“It is my birthday, sister,” said I.
“I have caused you pain. Give me your
blessing today that I may never do so again.
My mind is so small.” I repeated my obeisance
and left her hurriedly, but she called me back.
