Madhavi had gone back to her own house one day. The boy had started crying and so the mother asked one of the servants to take him out. The servant took him out and sat him on the green grass. The grassy soil was wet with rainwater and in some places there were small patches of water as well. It was the perfect place to play around for the little boy! All excited, the boy started rolling about in the water. The servant got busy chatting with other men. Hours passed. The boy caught a terrible cold and was brought home with a running nose. When Madhavi returned, she saw that the boy was coughing. Around midnight she could hear a rattling voice coming out of his throat. Madhavi was terribly shocked. She woke the mother up and said, ‘Look, what’s happening to the child. I’m afraid he has got a cold. Yes, it seems like a bad cold.’
The mother woke up aghast and when she heard the boy’s rattling voice she was terribly frightened. She had heard this fearful voice many times before and thus was familiar with it. Perplexed, she asked, ‘Light some fire, get some husks of wheat, make a pouch, and give him a hot compress. It will comfort him. I’m sick of these servants. One of them had taken him out for a while. He must have abandoned the boy in the cold.’
Both Madhavi and the mistress applied the hot compress all night long. Finally, it was dawn. Hearing about the boy’s condition, Mr Bagchi rushed him to the doctor. Fortunately, the child was attended to in time. The boy recovered in three days. But he was so weak that he looked a terrible sight. Truly speaking, it was Madhavi’s dedication that had saved the boy. The mother would fall asleep, so would the father, but sleep fled Madhavi’s eyes. She would hardly remember to eat or drink. She would propitiate the gods with her worship and sacrifice herself completely for the well-being of the child, losing her mind completely. This was the same Madhavi who had once come into this house to avenge her own misery. She had come here for vengeance but had ended up being an agent of beneficence. She had come here with a poisonous intent but had ended up offering nectar. The divine in Man is so powerful!
It was early morning. Mr Bagchi was sitting by the boy’s swing. His wife had a headache. She was lying on the bed and Madhavi was boiling milk for the child nearby. Mr Bagchi suddenly said, ‘Budhiya, we will sing your praises as long as we’re alive. You’ve given our child his life.’
The wife reiterated, ‘This woman descended in the form of a Goddess to free us from our misery. I wonder what would have happened to us if she wasn’t here. Budhiya, I have a request to make of you. Though life and death are in the hands of destiny, one’s past too has a part to play. I’m wretched. It was due to your blessed deeds that the child survived. I’m afraid God might yet take the child away from us. To tell you the truth, Budhiya, I’m afraid I can’t even cuddle the child. From today consider him your own son. With you the boy may have a good chance of survival whereas with us he’ll be destined to be a part of our misery. Why don’t you mother the child? Take him to your home or wherever you wish. At least the thought that he’s being taken care of by you will ease my worries. Truly speaking, it is you who is to be credited as being the mother of this child, I’m a hag indeed.’
Madhavi replied, ‘Bahuji, God will fix everything, why do you get so disheartened!’
Mr Bagchi now spoke, ‘No, no, Boodhi Mata, there’s no problem in that. I don’t believe in such pretentions yet my heart cannot help but accept them. I myself was sold to a washerwoman by my own mother. I was born after three of my brothers had died. Selling me was the only option for my parents to keep me alive. You bring up this child. Treat him as your own son. We’ll pay for all the expenses. Just don’t worry about anything. We’ll come and see him once in a while whenever we desire. We believe that you’ll be able to take care of him much better than us. I’m a corrupt man. One cannot help being corrupt in the kind of profession that I am in. We are compelled to create false witnesses and send innocents to prison. My weakened conscience cannot escape such temptations. I know very well that evil begets evil, yet I’m helpless under these circumstances. If I don’t follow these ways, I will be called unfit and thrown out of the system. No one questions the English when they commit countless wrongs. But if an Indian commits a single mistake, all the officers get after his life. Indians shouldn’t occupy these bureaucratic positions because whenever they do, they end up becoming morally degraded souls! Just to make up for their fault of being Indians, they have to do a great deal of things that the Englishmen can never even think of doing. So, what do you say? Will you accept my offer?’
Madhavi replied at once, ‘Babuji, I’ll always be ready to offer whatever services I can afford, whenever you wish. I sincerely pray to God for the boy’s survival!’
Madhavi felt as if the doors of heaven had opened before her and the angels were offering their salutations to her through heavenly gestures. She could feel the rays of light in the deepest corners of her heart. Such was the contentment in the servitude of a mother’s love and care!
Till now, the boy was sleeping under the sheets. Once the milk
