To draw her son towards the life of a householder, Devapriya regularly employed charms and totems. She would sing the praises of beautiful, talented and well-educated girls of the community but Gyanprakash had no time to listen to her.
There were frequent weddings in other houses in the locality. Brides would arrive and would soon become mothers, turning homes into pleasure gardens. While one house bid farewell to its daughter, another celebrated the arrival of a daughter-in-law. Some homes had musical gatherings and others echoed with the sounds of musical instruments. All the hustle-bustle made Devapriya’s heart long for it. She told herself, ‘I am the most unfortunate woman in the world. It is my fate alone to not have this joy. God! There will be a day when I will see the moon-like face of my daughter-in-law, and her sons will frolic in my lap. There will be such a day when my house too will resonate with sweet songs of joyous celebrations!’ Harbouring such thoughts day and night turned Devapriya delirious, like she was intoxicated. Without occasion, she would curse Satyaprakash, saying, ‘He is the one threatening my life!’
Some sort of psychological obsession is the chief characteristic of intoxication. It is highly creative too. It can assume to fly gods’ chariots and can blame imaginary enemies for excess salt in food. On occasion Devapriya hallucinated that Satyaprakash had entered the house and wanted to kill her, or that he was administering poison to Gyanprakash. One day she wrote a letter to Satyaprakash cursing him as much as she could. ‘You are an enemy of my life, a killer of my clan, a murderer. When will the day of your cremation come! You have cast a spell on my son.’ The next day she wrote a similar letter. This became a daily affair. She could not rest until she had abused Satyaprakash in a letter. She had these letters posted by the water-carrier.10
That Gyanprakash became a teacher turned out to be life-threatening for Satyaprakash. In an alien land, he had had the lone consolation that he was not without any support in this world. Now even this crutch was lost. Gyanprakash had written in a letter that Satyaprakash should not put himself through hardships for his sake. He had stressed, ‘Now I earn more than enough to sustain myself.’
Although Satyaprakash’s shop did brisk business, the life of a petty shopkeeper was not too felicitous in a big city like Calcutta. How great was a monthly income of sixty or seventy rupees? Up till now, whatever he had saved was not actually saving, but a sacrifice. He had managed to save twenty-five to thirty rupees a month by eating one frugal meal a day and living in a damp cramped room. Now he ate two meals and also wore clean clothes. But within a few days medicines were added to his list of expenses and his condition reverted to what it was earlier. Being deprived of fresh air, light, and nutritious food for years can wreck even the best of health. Likewise, Satyaprakash was afflicted with ennui, lack of appetite, and occasionally a fever too. In his years of youth, a man has great self-confidence and does not care for support. On the other hand, old age looks to others for care and refuge. Earlier he would sleep well and at times even buy delicacies like puris or sweetmeats from the market. But now he could not sleep well at night and had started despising food from outside. He was extremely tired by the time he returned home at night, and lighting the stove and cooking in that condition was extremely cumbersome. Sometimes, he wept because of his loneliness. At night when sleep eluded him, he longed to talk to somebody. But who was there to keep him company except for the nocturnal darkness? Inanimate walls make for good listeners but they cannot speak. Now even Gyanprakash’s letters had become infrequent and dry, without even an iota of heartfelt emotion. Although Satyaprakash still wrote letters full of feeling, it does not behove a teacher to be emotional. Gradually, Satyaprakash began fearing that Gyanprakash had also become hard on him; why else would it be impossible for him to visit just for a few days? ‘The gates of home are shut for me but what hurdles does he have?’ How could Satyaprakash be aware that Gyanprakash had vowed to his mother that he would not visit Calcutta? The doubt made him even more hopeless.
Cities have many humans, but rarely any humanity. Even in that crowded city, Satyaprakash was alone. A new desire germinated in his heart. ‘Should I return home? Should I take refuge in a woman’s company? Where can I seek such peace and pleasure? Which other flame can illuminate the darkness of hopelessness of my life?’ He tried to fight this flood of emotions with the utmost power of will but, just as a boy at play is drawn by sweetmeats at home, his heart also repeatedly got caught in these anxieties. He would reflect, ‘The Almighty has deprived me of all joy. Why else would I be in such a pitiable condition? Did God not give me a mind? Did I shrink from labour? If my enthusiasm and zeal were not blighted in childhood and the power of my mind had not been strangulated, I too would have been humane. I would not have to live in an alien land to fill my belly. No! I will not inflict this atrocity on myself.’
This war between Satyaprakash’s mind and heart continued for months. One day, just as he was lighting the stove after returning home from his shop, the postman called. He did not receive letters from anybody else other than Gyanprakash. ‘But I’ve already received one letter from him today. Why this second letter?’ He had a premonition of some mishap. He received the letter and started reading it. He dropped the letter in a
