The chief huntsman spoke up, ‘This time I will take cloth for a turban from the master.’
Pitaji responded excitedly, ‘How many turbans will you take? I will give you so many invaluable ones that you will actually lose your hair over them.’
The sarangi player said, ‘This time I should ask sarkar to provide me with some means of sustenance.’
Pitaji responded excitedly, ‘How much will you eat? I will feed you so much that you will burst.’ Just then, a servant woman came out of the labour room. She looked a little worried. Before she could utter a word, the chief huntsman fired a gunshot. Hardly had the gunshot been fired when the rest of the company burst into song and the pamar too began to prepare himself for a dance.
‘Arré, have all of you had bhang?’ asked the servant woman.
‘What has happened?’ asked the chief huntsman.
‘What has happened? It is a girl once again,’ replied the servant woman.
‘A girl?’ asked Pitaji, and sat down heavily, as though struck by a thunderbolt. Tripathiji came out of the room and addressed the servant woman, ‘Will you go and ask the lady doctor? Go and ascertain once again. She has neither seen nor heard anything but has set out making claims of her own accord.’
‘Babuji, I have seen the child with my own eyes!’
‘Is it a girl once again?’
‘Beta, it is our fate! Go away, all of you! None of you was destined to receive anything so how can you get it? Get away. Hundreds of rupees have been lost; all the preparations have been reduced to nought.’
‘One should question this mahatma. I will dispatch a letter today itself.’
‘Fraud, this is fraud!’
‘I’ll make sure I cleanse him of all his fraudulence. I will beat him with a rod till I have broken his head for him. The wretched outcaste that he is! All because of him I have lost hundreds of rupees. To whom shall I give this stroller, this cow, this cradle and all these gold ornaments now? How many people he must have swindled in this manner! He should be given a sound beating once and for all. That will set him right.’
‘Beta, he is not at fault; our own fate is to blame.’
Tripathiji: ‘Why did he claim that this would not happen then? How much money must this impostor have extorted out of women? He will have to confess everything, else I will have him handed over to the police. The law provides punishment for cases of extortion too. I had a hunch earlier that he was after all, an extortionist, but my sister-in-law cheated us too, else I am not one to be taken in by the tricks of such scoundrels. He is an utter swine.’
‘Beta, have patience. Whatever has happened is God’s will. Sons and daughters are all God’s gifts; we have three, so we can have one more.’
Father and son kept talking in this manner. The sarangi player, the chief huntsman and the rest of the company gathered their wares and went their respective ways. The household was engulfed in a gloomy silence; the lady doctor was sent off; nobody remained in the room of Nirupama’s lying-in except for the midwife and Tripathiji’s mother. The aged mother-in-law was so depressed that she took to her bed.
Twelve days after the birth of the child, Tripathiji went over to his wife and said to her fiercely, ‘It is a girl once again!’
‘What can I do? How can I have a say in this?’
‘That sinful scoundrel has played a mean trick on us.’
‘What can I say now? Maybe it is not my destiny. Babaji is surrounded by many women all the time. Had he taken any remuneration from anyone, I could have called him a scoundrel; but I can swear I haven’t paid him any money.’
‘Whether or not he took anything from you, I have been looted. I know for sure now that I am not destined to have a son. If the familial name has to be lost, how does it matter whether it is lost today or ten years later? I will go away somewhere now; there is no happiness in looking after a family.’
For a long time he stood there cursing his own fate but Nirupama did not so much as lift her head.
Once again, Nirupama stood face-to-face with the same old predicament; the same old jibes; the same abuse; the same disrespect; she was in the same mess as before; nobody cared whether she had eaten anything at all or not; whether she was well or ailing; happy or sad. Tripathiji did not go anywhere but he often threatened Nirupama with this outcome. When several months passed by like this, Nirupama put pen to paper to inform her sister-in-law that she had actually got her into more trouble. ‘I was better off before. Now, nobody bothers to ask whether I am dead or alive. If this state of things continues, I will surely give up this world and pass away, whether or not Swamiji takes sanyas.’
When Bhabhi received this letter, she was able to gauge the state of things as they stood. This time, she did not call Nirupama over, for she knew that her family would not send her. Instead, she
