Her heart started beating very fast. She cast a glance at the upper berth, looked inside the toilet, below the benches—bahu was nowhere. Then she stood at the doorway. She got suspicious—who had opened this door? Had someone come in? Her heart grew restless. She shut the door and started crying loudly. Who could she ask? The mail train would not stop for a while. I had told her—Bahu, let’s sit in the male compartment but she did not listen to me. She said, ‘Amma, you will have trouble sleeping in a male compartment.’ Now is this the comfort she has given me?
Suddenly she remembered the alarm chain. She pulled the chain vigorously many times. The train stopped after several minutes. The guard arrived. A few more passengers joined in from the next compartment. They searched the entire compartment. They checked the boards below carefully. There was no trace of blood. They checked the luggage. Bedroll, box, small box, utensils—everything was there. All locks were intact. Nothing was missing. If someone had entered the compartment from outside where could he have gone from a moving train? It was impossible to jump from a train carrying a woman. From these signs, all those present concluded that Maani must have fallen down after losing her grip on the handlebar. The guard was a nice fellow. He got off the train and searched for Maani for one mile on both sides of the railway track. There was no trace of her. What more could be done at night beyond that! Some people insisted upon taking Mataji to the men’s compartment. It was decided that Mataji should get off the train at the next station and a full search operation be carried out in the morning.
We start depending on others in times of adversity. Mataji looked around for help here and there. Her plaintive eyes seemed to be saying—Why can’t someone bring back my daughter? Oh, she had barely tasted marital joy, she was so excited about going to her husband! Someone should go to that wicked Vanshidhar and tell him, ‘Look, your desire has been fulfilled. Are you happy now?
The old woman sat crying and the train kept moving, breaking through the darkness.11
It was Sunday evening. Indranath was sitting on the terrace with a couple of friends. There was fun and laughter all around as Maani‘s arrival was awaited. A friend said, ‘Why, Indra, you have some experience of married life, what do you advise us? Shall we build a nest somewhere or shall we spend the rest of our lives sitting on the branches? From journals and magazines it seems that there is little difference between married life and hell.’
Indranath smiled and said, ‘This is a matter of destiny, absolutely a stroke of luck. If married life is like hell on the one hand, it is no less than heaven on the other.’
Another friend said, ‘Will there be this kind of freedom?’
Indranath said, ‘Not even one per cent of this. If you wish to return from a movie at midnight, to wake up at nine o’clock. and play cards after returning from office at four, then marriage will not bring you any happiness. If you can get a suit stitched every month now, then you may not even get one in a year.’
‘Your respected spouse is coming by train tonight, isn’t she?’
‘Yes, by mail train. Why don’t you come to the station to receive her?’
‘You don’t have to ask me. Why go home now? But you will have to treat us to dinner tomorrow.’
Suddenly, the postman came and handed Indranath an envelope.
Indranath’s face lit up. He slit open the envelope and started reading it at once. As soon as he read it, his heart was paralysed, his breathing stopped and his head reeled. He lost his vision, as though a black curtain had enveloped the earth. He flung the telegram to his friends and started crying bitterly, his face covered with both his hands. Perturbed, his friends picked up the telegram nervously and looked at the wall. They recalled what they had been looking forward to and look what had happened!
The telegram read like this:
Maani jumped off the train. Her corpse was discovered three miles from Laalpur. I am in Laalpur. Come immediately.
One of the friends said, ‘An enemy might have sent a false report.’
The second friend said, ‘Yes, sometimes people indulge in such mischief.’
Indranath looked at them blankly but said nothing.
For many minutes, all three sat quiet and motionless. Suddenly, Indranath stood up and said, ‘I shall leave by this very train.’
The train was to leave Bombay at nine. Both friends quickly wrapped the bedroll and got it ready. One picked up the bedroll and the other, the box. Indranath hurriedly changed his clothes and left for the station. Despair led and hope followed.12
One week had passed. Vanshidhar had just arrived home from office when Indranath came and offered his respects. Vanshidhar was startled to see him, not at his unexpected arrival but at his dishevelled appearance.
Vanshidhar asked, ‘You had gone to Bombay, no?’
Indranath said, ‘Yes, I have only just come back.’
Vanshidhar said in a sharp tone, ‘You destroyed Gokul.’
Indranath looked at his ring and said, ‘He is at my place.’
Vanshidhar’s sad face lit up. He said, ‘Why didn’t he come here? Where did you meet Gokul? Had he gone to Bombay?’
‘No, I met him at the railway station yesterday when I got off the train.’
‘Then go get him. Let bygones be bygones.’
Saying this, Indranath ran towards the house. In a minute, Gokul’s mother called him indoors.
Gokul’s mother looked at him from head to toe and said, ‘Were you sick, bhaiya? Why do you look so crestfallen?’
Gokul’s mother gave him a lota full of water and said, ‘Wash your hands and face, son. Gokul is all
