Kapalkundala (Ghose)/Part 4/Chapter 1
PART IV.
CHAPTER I.
In bed-chamber.
It took Luthfunnisha almost a year to complete her return journey to Agra and thence to move down to Saptagram where Kapalkundala lived over a year as Nabokumar's wife. The same evening, when Luthfunnisha was out on her excursion amidst the wood, Kapalkundala sat in her bed-room in an abstracted mood of mind. She was not the self-same Kapalkundala whom the reader saw on the sea-beach, unadorned, with her loose curls flowing down her waist. The prophecy of Shyamasundari has materialised and the hermit girl with the touch of the philosopher's stone has bloomed into a full-fledged housewife.
Now the mass of her raven-dark hair that once hung out in heavy serpent-like coils, sweeping down her waist-line, has been gathered up and twisted in a massive knot that perched high on the back of her head. The braiding of locks even was worked up into an elaborate art-work and the fine skilled designs and figures displayed in the pleating spoke highly of Shyamasundari's finished style of hair-dressing. Every detail was faithfully attended to. Even the chaplet of flowers that encircled, like a coronet, the base of her braided coil, was not lost sight of. The unbraided locks of loose hair maintained not a uniform level of height on the crown of her head because of their crispness. So these ringlets showed themselves in small dark waves on the surface. The face is no longer half-concealed amidst her thick folds of hair. Rather it shone out bright and radiant. Only at places, the loosened stray locks caked on to parts bedewed with moisture. The skin displayed the same colour—the silver grey of a half-moon. Now gold ear-rings suspended from her ears and a gold necklace hung round her neck. The brightness of the gold rather than paling before the lustre of the skin gained in effect like the night-flowers adding to the charms of the sweet earth bathed in a flood of the weird mellow light of a quarter moon. The figure was draped in a piece of white cloth which appeared a milky cloud sailing in the silvery sky flooded with the splendours of a glorious moon. The skin showed the same gleam of moon-shine though it looked to have acquired a darker tinge than before like a speck of black cloud gathering in some distant corner of the far-off horizon. Kapalkundala was not seated alone, having Shyamasundari by her side. We shall narrate a portion of the conversation passing between them to our reader.
"How long will the brother-in-law stay here?" enquired Kapalkundala.
"He leaves to-morrow evening" replied Shyamasundari. "Alas! If I could but root up the medicinal plant to-night, I would have scored a success over him in taming him into submission. But what indignities did I not suffer because of my last night's escapade! So how can I go out this night also?"
"Does it not yield the same effect, if pulled out, at daytime?"
"How can it be of the same virtue if up-rooted during day-light hours? It must be taken out just at midnight, in loose hair, if it is to have any efficacy at all. Well, sister, that cherished hope of my heart shall never have its realisation."
"Right. I have myself seen the plant at day-time, to-day, and have, besides, seen the jungle it grows in. You must needs make no stirring to-night. I alone would bring you the plant."
"Our mind is not a clean slate, so we must take stock of our experience. What has happened one day may not happen over again. You must not go out at night-time anymore."
"You have no reason to have any anxiety on that score. You might have heard that night-walk grew up into a habit with me since my childhood and you must bear in mind that, if it had not been the case, I would never have come into your midst, and these eyes could not have shone upon you."
"It is due to no fear that I say that. Does it behove a house-hold maid or wife to wander in wood and forest at night-time? When we received that sharp rebuke despite our combined moves the other day, think, what it would come to, if you venture out alone at night?"
"What harm is there? Do you imagine I would count a lost character for my mere night outing?"
"I never think that way. But bad people may badly speak of you."
"Let them say as they like. The taint shall never touch me."
"We can't pass things to drift that way, as any ill-talk about you, will cut us to the quick."
"Let not yourselves be so touchy."
"I can stand even that much. But why should you make my brother unhappy?"
Kapalkundala cast a significant glance of her big bright eyes towards Shyamasundari and said "If it destroys his peace of mind, then there is no help for it. If I could but know that wedlock is a serfdom, I would never have suffered myself to be led to the marriage altar then!"
What followed then grew distasteful to Shyamasundari. So she left the place and went about her own work. Kapalkundala, as well, busied herself in doing the daily round of her household duties. Having finished her day-work, she left the house in quest of the drug. The first watch of the night passed away. It was moonlight then. Nabokumar was seated in a room in the front wing of his house, so he could clearly see, through the window-bars, Kapalkundala steal away from it. No sooner he saw this than he went out and, going forward at quick step, grasped her by her arm. Mrinmoyee turned back and questioned "What is the matter?"
"Where are you going" asked Nabokumar. He had not the slightest ring of reproof in his voice.
"Shyamasundari wants to charm her husband," replied Kapalkundala "so I am going to search the drug."
"Good" added Nabokumar in his former silky voice. "You had already been out overnight. What is the use of going over again to-night?"
"I could not find it out last night. So I would essay my second try this time."
"Very well," said Nabokumar in his blandest tone "You might as well conduct the search at day-time." His voice was full of pathos.
"The day-light finding won't give the desired effect" rejoined Kapalkundala.
"What necessity is there for your drug-searching? Just tell me the name of the plant and I shall bring you the thing."
"I know the plant but do not know the name. Besides, if you root it up, it won't serve the purpose. It is for women to pull it out in loose hair. So you should not put a spoke into other's wheel." Kapalkundala had a tone of displeasure in her words.
Nabokumar made no further objection and added "Move on. I shall accompany you."
Kapalkundala with a touch of swagger replied "Come and see with your own eyes if I hold not the plighted troth."
Nabokumar could not speak a word more. With a sigh he dropped down Kapalkundala's hand and got back home. Kapalkundala alone went on her way and entered the wood.