Both of them climbed into a tonga and set off. Gaura had never ridden a tonga before. She was proud of the fact that she was sitting in a tonga while so many babus were walking on foot. Very soon the tonga reached Mangru’s home. It was a huge building, the compound was neat and clean, and pots of flowers were kept in the porch. She started climbing up the stairs, full of astonishment, joy and hope. She was oblivious of herself. As she started climbing the stairs her feet started aching. This entire palace is his. He must be paying a lot of rent. He doesn’t care about money at all. Her heart was pounding. Mangru may be coming down the stairs. What will I do if I meet him on the stairs? I hope I find him sleeping. I will wake him and he will get up with a start when he sees me. At last they reached the top of the stairs. The godly Brahmin made Gaura sit in a room. This was Mangru’s home but he wasn’t here either. A single cot stood in the room. Some utensils were lying in a corner. This is his room. Then the house must be somebody else’s, he must have taken this on rent. Let me see, the hearth is cold. He must have eaten puris in the bazaar last night and gone to sleep. This is his charpoy. A pitcher had been placed in one corner. Gaura’s mouth was parched. She poured out some water and drank it. A broom was lying in one corner. Gaura was tired by the journey, but fatigue disappeared in the excitement of love. She swept the room, washed and kept the utensils in one place. She found intimacy reflected in every object of the room, even the floor and the walls. She had never felt this pride of joyous ownership even in the home where she had spent twenty-five years of her life.
Gaura sat in the room till evening but there was no news of Mangru’s whereabouts. Mangru must be free now. In the evening everybody is free. He must be coming now. The old Brahmin must have told him about her; couldn’t he have taken leave for a short while? Something must be the matter, that’s why he hasn’t come.
It grew dark. There was no lamp in the room. Standing at the door, Gaura waited for her husband. She could hear the sound of many footsteps on the stairs. Again and again, Gaura felt that Mangru was coming, but nobody came that way.
The old Brahmin arrived at nine o’clock. Gaura thought it was Mangru. She came out of the room quickly. When she saw that it was the Brahmin, she asked him, ‘Where is he?’
The Brahmin replied, ‘He has been transferred from here. When I went to his office, I got to know that yesterday he and his sahib left on an eight-day journey. He pleaded with his sahib to give him ten days’ time but the sahib didn’t agree. Finally Mangru left a message with the people saying that if the members of his family arrived, they should be sent to him. He has left his address with them. Tomorrow I will put you on a ship. There will be many people from our country on that ship, so you won’t have any problems on the way.’
‘How long will the ship take?’
‘It won’t take less than eight to ten days, but there is no need to worry. You will not face any difficulties.’6
Till now Gaura had been hopeful of returning to her village. She would definitely bring back her husband sometime or the other. But after boarding the ship she felt that she would never see her mother again, would never look at her village, and that her link with her country was being severed forever. Standing on the quayside, she cried for a long time; the ship and the sea scared her. Her heart was full of trepidation.
The ship set sail in the evening. Her heart started quivering with a deep, imperishable fear. Despair overwhelmed her for a while. Who knows where I am going, whether I’ll meet him there or not. Where will I find him, I don’t even know his address. Time and again she regretted the fact that she hadn’t come one day earlier. If I had met him in Calcutta, I would never have let him go.
There were many other passengers on the ship. There were some women too. They were constantly using foul language. That’s why Gaura never felt like talking to them. Only one woman appeared to be sad from her demeanour. She seemed to be from a good family. Gaura asked her, ‘Where are you going, behen?’
The woman’s large eyes filled with tears. She said, ‘How can I tell you where I am going? I am going where destiny takes me. Where are you going?’
‘I am going to my lord and master. He works in the place where this ship will stop. If I had come yesterday, I could have met him in Calcutta. I got delayed. If I had known he would go so far away, would I have come so late?’
‘Oh, behen, has somebody misled you too? Who came with you from home?’
‘My husband sent a man from Calcutta to fetch me.’
‘Did you know him?’
‘No, it was an old Brahmin from a neighbouring village, he said.’
‘That tall, thin, stork of an old man, with a boil in one eye?’
‘Yes, yes, that one! Do you know him?’
‘He is the same villain who has destroyed me too. May God rot his next seven generations in hell, may he remain childless, and may he die
