The acharya smiled and asked, ‘Shall I put out the lamp?’
Ratna answered, ‘Why, are you feeling shy?’
‘Yes, actually I am.’
‘Because I won you over?’
‘No, because I deceived you.’
‘You do not have the power to deceive.’
‘You don’t know that. I’ve kept a huge secret from you.’
Ratna: ‘I know everything.’
‘Do you know who I am?’
‘Yes, I’ve known for a long time. When both of us played in this garden, when I’d hit you and you would cry . . . I’d give you my half-eaten sweets and you jumped on them . . . I’ve loved you since then. Of course, at that time it was expressed as kindness.’
The acharya was astounded. ‘Ratna, you knew and still—’
‘Yes, because I knew. I probably wouldn’t have otherwise.’
‘This is that same bed.’
‘And I’ve come into the bargain with it.’
The acharya embraced her and said, ‘You are the Goddess of forgiveness!’
Ratna replied, ‘I am your handmaid.’
‘Does Rai Sahib also know the truth?’
‘No, he doesn’t. And don’t ever tell him or he will kill himself.’
‘I still remember those whip lashes.’
‘My father has nothing left now with which to atone for that. Are you still not satisfied?’
Translated from the Hindi by Meenakshi F. Paul
Banishment
Parashuram: ‘Stop, stop right there at the veranda.’
Maryada: ‘Why? Have I been defiled?’
Parashuram: ‘First tell me where you have been all these days. Who were you with and how did you get by? And who brought you here? Then, only then, the decision . . . we will see.’
Maryada: ‘Is this the time to ask these questions? Will we not have another opportunity?’
‘Yes, this is the right time. After your bath you came out of the river along with me. You followed me for a while as well. I would turn from time to time to check on you but then you disappeared all of a sudden. Where did you go?’
‘Did you not notice the large band of naga sadhus that suddenly appeared in front of us? People ran helter-skelter. Jostled by the crowd I do not know where I went. When the crowd thinned, I began looking for you. I kept calling out Basu’s name, but you were not to be seen.’
‘And then?’
‘Then I sat down in a corner crying. I could not decide where to go, who to speak with, I felt terrified of the men around. I sat in the same spot till late in the evening, weeping.’
‘Why are you describing things in such detail? Where did you go from there?’
‘In the evening a young man walked up to me and asked, “Have you lost your family?” I replied, “Yes.” Then he asked for your name and address. He noted it all down in a book and said, “Come with me, I will send you home.”’
‘Who was that man?’
‘He was a volunteer from the Seva Samiti there.’
‘So you went off with him?’
‘What else could I have done? He took me to their committee office. There, in a tent, sat a man with a long beard, scribbling something. He was the volunteer supervisor. Several more volunteers were standing around. He noted down my address again and sent me off to another tent where there were countless other women sitting around, lost like me.’
‘Why didn’t you tell the supervisor that very minute to send you back home?’
‘I did, not once but hundreds of times. But he continued to say that till the fair got over, and till they had gathered all the lost women, he would be unable to arrange for me to be sent. He added that he neither had enough volunteers to help out nor the money for it.’
‘What did you lack in wealth? You could have sold off any one of your gold pieces and got a lot of money.’
‘But there were not enough men.’
‘Did you tell him not to worry about the expenses? That you could sell off your jewellery to pay him?’
‘No, this I did not say.’
‘Even in such a condition you were so attached to your jewellery?’
‘All the women there started telling me, “Why are you so worried? What are you scared of here? All of us want to return home quickly, but what can we do?” So I also kept quiet.’
‘If all the other women had jumped into a well, would you have too?’
‘I knew that these people were taking care of me for the sake of our dharma, not because they were my servants or hired labour. So what right did I have to plead with them? I was also relieved at seeing so many other women there.’
‘Absolutely! What could have been a bigger source of consolation to you than this? And tell me how many days did you spend there enjoying this sense of solace? The fair would have wound up on the second day.’
‘I spent the entire night with the other women in the tent.’
‘All right, but why did you not get them to send me a telegram?’
‘I thought, when they had promised to send me back anyway why send a telegram?’
‘Anyway, so you stayed the night there. The young men would have walked in and out all the time.’
‘Only once did a volunteer come to ask about food, and when all of us refused, he left. No one came after that. I stayed up all night.’
‘I am not ready to believe that there were so many young men around and no one came inside. The youth of such committees are not gods descended from heaven. Anyway, that bearded supervisor must surely have come to check up on things.’
‘Yes, he would come. But he would ask about us from the entrance and go back again. And yes, when one of the women suffered from stomach pains, he did come twice or thrice to give her medicines.’
‘Well, the truth finally comes out! I am familiar with every bone of these deceivers. I especially consider these painted, beaded, bearded ones supreme frauds. So that esteemed gentleman came there several times to administer medicines. I hope
