The Complete Short Stories

each other. Sometimes there was no food in the house. And many a time because of the fighting nobody ate. The boys would steal sugar cane and green peas from the fields. The mother-in-law would go to the neighbours’ houses and abuse Sheetala and her family for taking over the house in the absence of her son. In this battle the victory generally went to the daughter-in-law’s side. On a few rare occasions they managed to get some foodgrain, but there was nobody to grind it. Sheetala’s mother said that she was a guest and it was not proper that a guest be made to work. To which her mother-in-law would retort that the guests were ever ready to eat but they never wanted to work. Poor Sheetala had to do all the work alone. During mealtimes there was always an uproar, which irritated the neighbours. Sheetala pleaded with her mother and mother-in-law to stop fighting. But both dismissed her out of hand. Her mother said, ‘You’ve insulted us after calling us in your house.’ And her mother-in-law would say in return, ‘You’ve brought this woman in my house to humiliate me and now you’re spinning yarns.’ This situation made Sheetala forget her own plight. All her misgivings about her husband were forgotten. The only anxiety that preoccupied her at the moment was how to overcome the problem she was faced with. Both the elderly women—her mother and her mother-in-law—were on the verge of death, but the angel of death didn’t seem to be in a hurry to welcome them. She thought and thought but couldn’t find a way out. There was no hope of help from any quarter.

One day she was standing at the door looking very sad and depressed. The doorstep becomes one’s favourite spot when one is eagerly waiting for someone or is in trouble. Suddenly, she saw Suresh riding a horse. His eyes turned towards her. Then their eyes met, and she stepped back and closed the doors. Suresh rode past. Sheetala was embarrassed about Suresh having seen her in a torn sari. She wondered what he must think of her.

Suresh had found out about the plight of Vimal’s family from the villagers, and he secretly wanted to help them. But the moment he saw Sheetala, he became so self-conscious that he couldn’t even stop there for a second. It was three months now since Mangala had left his house. He hadn’t gone out anywhere in those three months out of shame. This was the first time he had stepped out.

Sheetala had always been lurking in Suresh’s thoughts—there was no doubt about that. But after Mangala’s departure that desire had turned into lust. Is there no way I can possess this beauty? There had been no trace of Vimal for ages. It was quite possible that he was no longer alive. But Suresh tried to control his reckless thoughts with reason. It is because of this that he hesitated over offering help to Sheetala despite knowing her plight. Who knows when lust might raise its head and mount an assault on his reason and conscience? Eventually, desire won and he went to Sheetala’s house to inquire about the well-being of her family. He reasoned in his heart, ‘It’ll be sheer injustice if I do not help the helpless woman when she’s in such dire straits.’ But when he returned from there, he found that he had already bidden goodbye to his judgement and conscience, overcome as he was by his lust and infatuation. What a pretty picture she made! What incomparable beauty!

He lost his wits and began to mutter to himself. My body and soul belong to you only. Let the world laugh. If it is a great sin, let it be. I care a damn. I can’t deprive myself of this heavenly pleasure. She can’t run away from me. I will pull my heart out and present it at her feet. Vimal is dead. If not, then he’ll die now. What’s wrong in that? Oh, how beautiful, soft, sublime she is! Oh, her lips . . .

Suddenly he checked himself as if he had remembered something long forgotten. In every human being there is a hidden sense, apart from the conscious senses. This sense warned Suresh. Just as a vanquished, retreating army finds help from an unknown source, in the same way this sense warned Suresh and he controlled himself. He was deeply ashamed and his eyes filled with tears. For several minutes he stood where he was, silent like a condemned prisoner. Then he said triumphantly, ‘It’s very easy. I’ll kill this giant perversion in a simple way. I’ll accept Sheetala as my sister. Then all these lustful thoughts will vanish on their own. Sheetala! Sister! I’m your brother!’

He sat down right that moment to write a letter to Sheetala. ‘Sister, you’re in so much pain, yet you didn’t think of informing me. I’m not a stranger to you! I’m very disappointed. Anyway, God willing, you won’t face any more trouble now.’ He sent both foodgrain and money with the letter.

Sheetala answered, ‘Brother, please forgive me. I’ll sing your glory till my last breath. You’ve taken my sinking boat ashore.’5

Many months passed. It was evening time. Sheetala was feeding her mynah, which Suresh had brought for her from Nepal. Suresh came and sat in the courtyard with her.

Sheetala asked, ‘Where are you coming from?’

‘I went to the police station. But I haven’t got any clue yet. We’d got some news from Rangoon. But he turned out to be somebody else. What should I do? Should I increase the prize money?’

‘You’ve lots of money, you can blow it if you like. He’ll come if and when he wants to.’

‘Can I ask you something? What happened between you two? Why did he leave?’

‘It’s nothing. I had just asked him to get some ornaments made for me. He said, “Do I have the money?” And I said, “Then why did you marry me?” He took that to