Indira and Other Stories/Indira/Chapter 4
IV.
What am I to do now? From this time forth I must make mention of my husband's name a hundred times in my narrative. Will my lively lady readers kindly sit in committee and tell me what word to use when I make mention of him? Shall I offend their delicate ears by saying "my husband...my husband" over and over again? Or shall I in modern fashion speak of him boldly as "Upendra." Or again, shall I ring poetical changes in a continuous kyrielle of "my lord," "my master," "my dear spouse"? Alas, in the speech of our unfortunate country there is no word by which we can address the one being whom we love to call by name, the one person of whom a loving woman must always be talking! One of my friends (she has had some tincture of town breeding) used to call her husband "Babu." But merely "Babu" seemed a dry mode of address, so she took to calling him "Baburam!"[1] I have half a mind to follow her example!
Well, I have told you how I threw down the dish of food. As I did so, I thought to myself, "since it has pleased destiny to restore me my lost treasure, I must not lose it in another fit of feminine modesty." With this determination, I went and stood in such a place that if any one looked carefully about him when he left the inner apartments, he could not fail to see me. I said to myself, "if he departs without looking about for another glimpse of me, then at the mature age of twenty, I do not know anything about the male sex." I will tell you the plain truth—and you must try to forgive me. I threw off my veil, and stood shamelessly with bared face. I am ashamed to write it now, but reflect in what trouble of mind I was then!
First of all Ramram passed out. He of course looked straight in front of him, and did not notice me. Then came my husband. My heart throbbed when I saw that he was looking about him—as if he was searching for some one. His eyes fell on me. Of course I knew for whom he was looking. As soon as I caught his eye—how shall I say it? I am covered with confusion. But as it is the cobra's habit to expand his hood before he strikes, so it is with a woman's glance. And why should I not put a little extra poison into my look, seeing that I knew that he was really and truly my "lord and master?" I rather think that the poor man departed badly wounded.
Ramram Babu had another servant girl of the name of Harani. We were great friends. Why not? After all, we were both companions in service. I called her to me and said, "My dear, if you would win my eternal gratitude, find out for me quickly when that babu means to take his departure." Harani laughed and said, "Fie, didi thakrum. I did not know that you had that little infirmity!" I laughed too. "It is a long lane," I said, "that has no turning, and every dog must have his day! Now spare me your sermonizing and tell me whether you will help me or not. I assure you there is nothing wrong in the affair, as you will know later." She answered, "Well, I will do it for you; but remember, I would not do this for anyone else."
So, alas, ended poor Harani's attempt at moral instruction!
She departed on her errand and it seemed to my impatience that she was a very long time in returning. I was wriggling, it seems to me, like a fish on dry land. At last Harani came back and announced with a laugh:
"The Babu is not very well, he is going to lie down for a little, I have come for bedding for him."
I answered, "That is all very well, but suppose he goes away in the afternoon! You get hold of him quietly and tell him that our cook says that she is ashamed of her mid-day performance, and begs him to stay for the evening meal. But mind you don't let any one else know of the cook's invitation. You'll see, he will find some pretext to stay longer."
Harani laughed and again said, "Fie, for shame!" But she carried my message nevertheless. In the afternoon she came back to me and said, "I told him what you said. The Babu is a bad man, he agreed to stay."
On hearing this, I was pleased, to be sure. All the same I was a little ashamed of him. It seemed to me that there was no harm in doing what I had done, because I knew who he was. But there was not the remotest possibility that he had recognised me. I had seen him before when he was a full-grown man, and so had my suspicions from the first. He had seen me only as a little girl of eleven. I had not the smallest reason to suppose that he knew me. So it was that I felt aggrieved that, believing me to be another man's wife, he had yielded to the attraction he felt for me. Still he was my husband, I was his wife. It was not for me to think evil of him. So I banished these thoughts from my mind. I merely determined that if, someday, I could recover him, I should cure him of this wicked weakness!
He had not to make long search for an excuse for staying with us. He had recently extended his business operations to Calcutta and had to visit the capital from time to time. His friendship with my master had its origin in business matters. After consenting to Harani's naughty suggestion, he went to Ramram Babu and said, "As I am here, would it not be a good thing if we went into those accounts?" Ramram replied, "By all means, but the ledgers and books are all at my office, let me send for them. It will be nightfall by the time they come. Could you look in to-morrow morning? Or, better still, why not spend the night here?"
To which he replied: "You are very kind. Why stand on ceremony? My friend's house is my house. Let us go into the accounts to-morrow morning."
- ↑ Which made the loving title jocular, and even disrespectful.