I also know that if this shock takes my life, he will never be able to forgive himself. His entire life will be one of guilt and regret. He will never find peace. What a terrible situation! I do not have the freedom to die. To keep him happy, I have to keep myself happy. I have to be cruel to him. I have to play womanly wiles with him. I have to pretend that because of his ailment this marriage cannot take place. I have to blame myself for breaking the promise. There is no other way. I pray to God for strength in this trial.7Sharda Charan
Only one glance had done the trick. Lajjawati had won me over. Sushila had also won me with a single glance. There was strong attraction in that glance, a fascinating simplicity, a wellspring of joy that could not be hidden anywhere. There was a childish thrill, as though she had got a new toy. Lajjawati’s heart had forgiveness and pity, despair and pain. She was sacrificing her desires for me. She knew herself well. She was intelligent enough to understand the situation and took the decision promptly. She didn’t want to come in the way of my happiness. Along with this she wanted to make it clear that she didn’t care for me. If you go away from me by an inch I will draw away from you by a foot. But feelings are like a fragrance that can’t be hidden. Her apparent cruelty expressed pain and tears trickled from her smile. Why did she run away from my presence to the kitchen and cook some dish that she knew I liked? Why did she want to keep my servants in comfort? Why did she keep the newspapers away from my eyes? Why did she compel me to go with her for evening walks? Every act of hers lifted a veil off her heart. Perhaps she didn’t know that self-knowledge is not one of the special qualities of women. One day, Professor Bhatia made a jibe at me during conversation, and said that I was a slave to prosperity and wealth and made fun of my socialist ideology. She deftly turned away the conversation. I don’t know what she told him behind my back, but sitting on the veranda, I could listen to the debate that was going on between father and daughter. Is there a heartless person who can’t be conquered by selfless service? I have known Lajjawati for a long time but I realize that I saw her real nature during this meeting. Initially I was attracted by her beauty, high values and gentle temperament. The heavenly flame that burnt within her was hidden from my eyes. Now I realized the depth of her love, so pure and infinite! In her place any other woman would have gone crazy with jealousy. She could have taken out her anger on Sushila if not on me, and would have made her a target of her mockery. She could have called me a hypocrite, stone-hearted and cruel, but the candidness with which Lajjawati welcomed Sushila was something I would never forget. She had no trace of meanness, jealousy or cruelty. She took her around with such joy as though she was her younger sister. Sushila was touched by this. Ah! That scene was so memorable when Lajjawati came to bid me goodbye. Professor Bhatia was sitting in the car. He was annoyed with me and wanted to run away as soon as he could. Wearing a bright sari Lajjawati came and stood before me. She was an ascetic who had sacrificed her life at the altar of love. She was a garland of white flowers lying at the feet of some deity. She said to me with a smile, ‘Please do write letters from time to time, I think I have this much right on you.’
I said eagerly, ‘Of course.’
Lajjawati said again, ‘Probably this is our last meeting. I have no idea where I will go and stay and whether I’ll be able to come here again. Don’t forget me entirely. Forgive me if I have said anything that hurt you. And do take care of your health.’
Saying this she held her hands towards me, shaking. Her eyes were moist. She wanted to run away from the room quickly. She had no control over her emotions. She looked at me from the corner of her eye. There was a strong tumult going on within her which did not leave me unmoved. Her glance won for her the bet she had lost. I held her hand and said tearfully, ‘No, Lajja, there will be no separation between you and me anymore.’
The servant came in and handed him a letter from Sushila. It ran thus:
Dear Shri Sharda Charanji,
Tomorrow we will leave this place. I have to wrap up so
