The guests left. The gathering dispersed. The items of the banquet were cleared away. There was silence all around, but Madhavi was still sitting right there.
Suddenly, Mr Bagchi asked, ‘Budhdhi, why are you sitting here? Did you get something to eat?’
Madhavi replied, ‘Yes, huzoor, I did.’
‘Then why don’t you leave?’
‘Where shall I go, sarkar? I don’t have a house. If you allow it, I shall stay here, and with your kindness I can have an ounce of flour.’
‘Can you work?’
‘Why not, sarkar? That’s what I want.’
‘Can you babysit my child?’
‘Yes, huzoor, I’d love to do that.’
‘Very well then. You can start from today itself. Go inside and do whatever you are asked.’3
A month passed. Madhavi does her work with such sincerity that the whole house is happy with her. The lady of the house is quite short-tempered. She lies on her bed all day and keeps screaming at the servants about petty issues. But Madhavi gladly tolerates all her growling. The situation was such that no maidservant would stay beyond a week in that house. Madhavi is the only one with such guts that despite enduring the harsh and awful expressions, she never lets a shadow fall on her face.
Mr Bagchi had had many sons before, but this one, the youngest, was his only surviving child. Though his children were born healthy, they would soon catch some disease and consequently either after two to four months or after a year, they would succumb to death. Thus, this child was very precious for both parents. If the boy caught a slight cold, they would get restless. Despite both parents being educated, they were not averse to local remedies such as the practice of magic, prayers, rituals and charms for the boy’s survival.
The boy was so attached to Madhavi now that he wouldn’t let go of her for a moment. If she even left for a minute, he would disturb everyone with his incessant cries. He would sleep only if he was put to bed by Madhavi, would have milk only if fed by Madhavi, would play only if Madhavi played with him. He, in other words, considered Madhavi as his own mother. There was nobody close to him except Madhavi. The boy would see his father only a couple of times in the whole day and so took him to be a stranger. His mother wasn’t in any position to walk around with him because of her lethargy and weakness. He would not allow his mother to take on his responsibility or take appropriate care for his safety. If the servants of the house tried to cuddle him, their callous handling made his tender limbs ache. Some would even toss the little boy high up in the air, frightening him out of his wits. He grew afraid of those servants. Madhavi was the only one who understood him. She knew precisely by what means and under what conditions the boy could be pleased. And that is why the boy loved her.
Madhavi used to think that the family was extremely well off. But now she was shocked to see that they could barely meet their monthly expenses. Accounts were taken of every paisa the servants were given to spend and many a times necessary items were also avoided.
One day, Madhavi asked the boy’s mother, ‘Why don’t you get a fast toy car for the boy? He gets restless being in my lap all the time.’
Frustrated, Mrs Bagchi replied, ‘How do I get that? It will cost no less than fifty to sixty rupees. Where is the money?’
‘Malkin, you’re also talking like this!’
‘I am not lying. My husband has five more daughters from his first wife. They study in a school in Allahabad. The eldest would be no less than fifteen or sixteen years of age. Half his salary is spent on them. Besides, we are also concerned about their marriages. Their weddings will cost no less than twenty-five thousand rupees. Where will all this money come from? I get extremely worried thinking of this. It is not any disease but such worries that make me feel sick all the time.’
‘He receives the bribes too.’
‘Budhiya, one cannot truly prosper by corrupt means. In fact, frankly speaking, this bribery has made our lives miserable. God knows how others wolf down bribes so easily. Here, whenever such money comes in, there is always a cost that comes along. The loss from such an income is too much. I always advise him not to bring in such unlawful earnings, but who listens to me!’
It so happened that Madhavi herself was growing fond of the boy. She could not even think of doing him any harm. She would sleep and wake up according to the boy’s routine. The memory of her own misery at the hands of Mr Bagchi would make her angry at him for a moment and her wound would get fresh again, but destructive thoughts did not dictate her conscience. The wound was healing, except that any minor hurt would cause pain. Otherwise, she didn’t have any feelings of smarting or jealousy. Rather, she began to sympathize with the family. She would speculate about the difficulties that would beset the family unless they grabbed the share of others. How else would they survive? How would they marry off their daughters? The wife is sick all the time. Moreover, the man has to have a bottle of alcohol every day. These people are themselves so unfortunate. A house where five marriageable daughters were there, where sons died consecutively, where the mistress remained sick, where the master was an alcoholic—they are already facing God’s wrath. Though ill-fated, I’m faring better!4
Rainy days are an ill omen for children who are weak. They suffer from
