Selected Novels of Sarat Chandra Chatterjee: Devdas Good Riddance Pundit Chandranath Debt and Payment

By Amitava Bhattacharya

This book presents unabridged translation of five of the many captivating novels of the legendary writer Sarat Chandra Chatterjee of India, who wrote in Bengali language in the first quarter of the twentieth century.

Devdas: The young boy Devdas has an ardent follower, a little girl Parvati, who is his neighbors daughter. They grow up together in a class conscious, tradition bound, rural community. Their friendship turns into love as they mature. Will they be able to have their wish fulfilled and unite with each other for the rest of their lives? Which way their fate will take them?

Good Riddance (Niskriti): Girish is a successful man and both he and his wife are magnanimous. They allow Girishs incompetent and poor cousin and his family to live with them as a joint family. An atmosphere of great love and understanding prevails over the joint family. But, what happens when Girishs younger brother Harish, who is also a successful man and has a wife with western education, joins the family? What events take place and what are the roles played by different family members?

Pundit (Pundit-moshai): Brindabon was married at a young age, but was soon made by his father to desert his child bride, because of a rumor of scandal about her mother. He grows up to become a self educated and benevolent well to do man, and she grows up to be a beautiful and educated woman in a poor family. After his second wife dies leaving behind a young son, he offers to take her back. But, how she responds? Brindabon gives free education to children of the poor in the village, by teaching them himself, and is called by them as Pundit. But, does that earn him respect from the diehard snobs in the village or their compassion in his moment of crisis?

Chandranath: A rich man marries a poor young woman, not knowing that her mother had a scandal of living together with a man after she became a widow. The girl, because of her humble background and the scandalous secret about her mother, considers herself much inferior to her husband and treats him with servility. How are the husbands feelings towards her? How the marriage blossoms? A kindly old man comes in their life, and what role he plays?

Debt and Payment (Dena-Paona): Jibananda, a corrupt scion of a landlord family, marries the child daughter of a widow for dowry money and then disappears. He later inherits a large estate when his uncle dies and becomes an oppressive feudal landlord. The girl by turn of events becomes the custodian of a temple in a village, where the landlord owns some property. She is upright, educated, and a leader of the downtrodden. The landlord visits the village, but does not recognize her. The virtuous woman and the depraved man cross their path, and what does it bring to them?

• Language: English
• Publisher: Xlibris US
• Release date: Aug 11, 2006
• ISBN: 9781469116570

Amitava Bhattacharya

Amitava Bhattacharya is a retired mechanical engineer living in the USA, who obtained his bachelor’s degree from Jadavpur University, India in 1958, master’s degree from New York University in 1976, and later Registered Professional Engineer certification from various States in the USA. He was born in India in a Bengali-speaking family and immigrated into the USA soon after its new Immigration Act was effective from June 1968, which introduced a quota for Indian professionals for immigration. He has written many short stories, translated novels from Bengali, and published technical articles.

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Copyright © 2006 by Amitava Bhattacharya.

Library of Congress Control Number: 2006905535

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the copyright owner.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to any actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

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Contents

Preface

Devdas

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Good Riddance

(Niskriti)

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Pundit

(Pundit-moshai)

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chandranath

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Seventeen

Chapter Eighteen

Chapter Nineteen

Chapter Twenty

Debt and Payment

(Dena Paona)

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Seventeen

Chapter Eighteen

Chapter Nineteen

Chapter Twenty

Chapter Twenty-one

Chapter Twenty-two

Chapter Twenty-three

Chapter Twenty-four

Chapter Twenty-five

Chapter Twenty-six

Chapter Twenty-seven

Chapter Twenty-eight

Glossary

Author Sarat Chandra Chatterjee was born near Calcutta in India in the year 1876 and died in 1938. He became a legendary novelist in the first quarter of the twentieth century. He wrote in Bengali language, and the novels were based on his real life experience. He could portray the human emotions in vivid color in striking resemblance to reality. His works included romantic love stories, accounts of blissful relationship between family members, as well as the anecdotes of inhumanity by the arrogant and the depraved. He looked into the society from a broadminded secular point of view, and brought out the society’s ills before his readers. Women and the under-privileged invoked his sympathy, and in his writings he championed their rights for social justice. Modern Indian society owes a lot to him, for providing the motivation, for making the social reforms since his era.

*     *     *

Translator Amitava Bhattacharya is a retired US engineer, who is a connoisseur of literature and a writer. He has published many articles and short stories. He was born in a Bengali speaking family in India, and is well versed in Bengali language. He lives in the United States.

I acknowledge with thanks the services provided by my son Anirban A. Bhattacharya by editing this book. His depth of knowledge in English vocabulary, grammar and punctuation, greatly helped me to improve the quality of this translation work.

This book is dedicated to my grand daughter Leela Hadassa Elliott, to grow up and read, and to learn about the culture of the land of her maternal ancestors.

Preface

This book presents five of the many captivating novels of the legendary writer Sarat Chandra Chatterjee of India, who wrote in Bengali language in the first quarter of the twentieth century.

Devdas: The young boy Devdas has an ardent follower, a little girl Parvati, who is his neighbor’s daughter. They grow up together in a class conscious, tradition bound, rural community. Their friendship turns into love as they mature. Will they be able to have their wish fulfilled and unite with each other for the rest of their lives? Which way their fate will take them?

Good Riddance (Niskriti): Girish is a successful man and both he and his wife are magnanimous. They allow Girish’s incompetent and poor cousin and his family to live with them as a joint family. An atmosphere of great love and understanding prevails over the joint family. But, what happens when Girish’s younger brother Harish, who is also a successful man and has a wife with western education, joins the family? What events take place and what are the roles played by different family members?

Pundit (Pundit-moshai): Brindabon was married at a young age, but was soon made by his father to desert his child bride, because of a rumor of scandal about her mother. He grows up to become a self educated and benevolent well to do man, and she grows up to be a beautiful and educated woman in a poor family. After his second wife dies leaving behind a young son, he offers to take her back. But, how she responds? Brindabon gives free education to children of the poor in the village, by teaching them himself, and is called by them as Pundit. But, does that earn him respect from the diehard snobs in the village or their compassion in his moment of crisis?

Chandranath: A rich man marries a poor young woman, not knowing that her mother had a scandal of living together with a man after she became a widow. The girl, because of her humble background and the scandalous secret about her mother, considers herself much inferior to her husband and treats him with servility. How are the husband’s feelings towards her? How the marriage blossoms? A kindly old man comes in their life, and what role he plays?

Debt and Payment (Dena Paona): Jibananda, a corrupt scion of a landlord family, marries the child daughter of a widow for dowry money and then disappears. He later inherits a large estate when his uncle dies and becomes an oppressive feudal landlord. The girl by turn of events becomes the custodian of a temple in a village, where the landlord owns some property. She is upright, educated, and a leader of the downtrodden. The landlord visits the village, but does not recognize her. The virtuous woman and the depraved man cross their path, and what does it bring to them?

Devdas

Chapter One

On a summer noon in the month of Baisakh, it was scorching sun, and simmering heat all around. At such a time young Devdas of Mukherjee family, sitting on a straw-mat on one corner of floor of the elementary school classroom of his village, with a slate in his hand, eyes opening and closing, legs stretched, yawning, suddenly became very pensive. He came to the conclusion that such a beautiful day could not be wasted by remaining confined in a classroom, when he could put the time to better use by flying kites over open fields in the village. His fertile brain gave him an idea. He stood up with the slate in his hand.

It was lunch break for the elementary school. A boisterous group of boys were busy playing Dang-gooli with their sticks and pucks under a banyan tree. Devdas looked at them. He was not allowed to go out at lunch break, as pundit Govinda had noticed that Devdas very much disliked to get back in the classroom, once he could get out at that time. It was forbidden by his father too. As a result it was decided that Devdas would stay in the classroom under custody of the class monitor Bhola during that hour.

In the classroom, it was the pundit lying down taking his noontime nap, and Bhola sat on a rickety bench in one corner of the classroom with the air of a little pundit, condescendingly watching the games being played by the boys outside and occasionally casting a lazy side glance at Devdas and Parvati. It was the girl Parvati who since a month had been put under the care and instructions of the pundit. Perhaps this short period of time was enough for the pundit to bemuse her. Now she was engrossed in trying to draw with great diligence, the outlines of the sleeping pundit’s face in ink, on the last page of her third grade Bengali text book. Like a seasoned artist she would stop time to time, and view her creation from different angles, to check how close it was to reality. It was not too close, however was sufficient to give her great joy of accomplishment.

Devdas stood up with the slate in his hand and said to Bhola, I cannot do this math.

Which one? Bhola asked with a stern face.

Cost per weight measures.

Let me see the slate, Bhola said with an air of authority on the subject.

Devdas gave him the slate and stood nearby. Bhola started writing the steps on the slate while explaining aloud. If the price of oil is fourteen rupees nine annas and three paisas per mon then—

Suddenly something happened. Bhola had been sitting on a ramshackle bench everyday of class for last three years, as he regarded this as the seat befitting his status as the class monitor. There was a heap of lime powder stored behind the bench. The pundit bought this lime cheap long time ago, with the intention of using it some day when times get better, for construction of a brick building for the school. Nobody knew when those good times would arrive, however the pundit always maintained his careful vigil on this heap of white powder. He relegated the task of guarding the powder to his favorite and relatively older student Bhola, lest any irresponsible god forsaken kid naïve about the hurdles in life, could even waste an ounce of it. Bhola jealously guarded the heap by sitting on the bench right beside it.

Bhola was writing while speaking loudly. If the cost of one mon of oil is fourteen rupees, nine annas and three paisas then— Suddenly there was a big commotion. Bhola cried out, Oh, dear father! Parvati was clapping her hands and rolling on the floor with laughter. The pundit sprang up on his two feet with bloodshot eyes from his nap and noticed a pair of legs beating on the bench, a volcanic eruption taking place from the lime heap and a group of boys outside noisily chasing another boy. Pundit cried out, What, what happened? There was no one to answer except Parvati but she was on the floor, clapping her hands and laughing uncontrollably. Pundit’s questions remained unanswered and then a white figure emerged from the cloud of white dust. You, you idiot, you are in there! the pundit screamed.

Scoundrel Deva—pushed—cost per mon— broken words came from the mouth of a crying Bhola.

Stop it stupid, the pundit roared. The next moment it all became crystal clear to him. Deva pushed you and then ran away? he asked.

Ah, ah, ah, Bhola replied.

A lengthy procedure of dusting Bhola continued for some time. He still looked like a ghostly figure of brown and white and his crying did not stop.

Deva pushed you and then ran away, is that right? pundit asked again.

Ah, ah.

I shall teach him a lesson.

Ah, ah.

Where is that brat?

A group of boys red faced and panting came running in and reported, We could not catch Deva, he throws brickbats too good.

You could not catch him? pundit asked.

He throws— a boy started repeating.

Stop it.

The boy gulped nervously and stepped aside. The pundit vented out his fury by harshly scolding the laughing Parvati. Then he took Bhola by hand and told him, come, let us go to the courthouse and tell the boss-man.

Which meant that he would present his complaint with the Zamindar Narayan Mukherjee, at his office regarding his son’s behavior.

It was around three o’clock in the afternoon. Narayan Mukherjee sat on a chair in the porch, smoking from a hookah, and a servant was fanning him with a hand-fan. He was a bit surprised to see pundit Govinda coming in with his disciple. Hello, Govinda, he greeted him.

The pundit was a Kayashta by caste. He did his obeisance to Narayan Mukherjee, a Brahmin by caste and narrated the whole story about what Devdas did to Bhola. Mr. Mukherjee was annoyed. Well, looks like Devdas has gone out of control, he said.

Please tell me what I should do, pundit said.

The Zamindar laid down the tube of hookah on its rest and asked, Where is he now?

We do not know, he drove away the boys who tried to catch him by throwing brickbats.

There was silence and then Mr. Mukherjee said, Let him come home then I shall take care of him.

Govinda came back to the school with his pupil in tow in a very angry mood. His grimaces and gestures terrified the entire classroom. He swore that he would not allow Devdas to enter the school again even though his father was a prominent Zamindar in that area. That day the school closed early and the students went home talking about the incident with great excitement.

Oh! Have you noticed what kind of bully Deva is? one said.

He made a fool out of Bhola, another commented.

He can throw so well.

One was sympathetic with Bhola. Wait and see, Bhola will take revenge.

How can he take revenge? Deva is not coming back to school. Parvati with books and slate in her hand was walking home along with this little group. She tugged at the hand of a boy next to her and asked, Moni, is that true that they won’t let Dev-dada come back to school again?

No, they will never, Moni replied.

Parvati pulled away; she did not like the answer. Parvati’s father’s name was Nilkantha Chakraborty. Mr. Chakraborty was a neighbor of the Zamindar, that means he had a small old brick house next to the mansion of the Zamindar. He had quite a few acres of farmland, and as a family priest for some well to do people, he had a good income. Besides, as a neighbor there were always nice gifts coming in from the rich Zamindar on various occasions. He was running a family free from financial worries. The days were passing by like a breeze.

It was Dharmadas, whom Parvati first came across on her way home. He was a servant at Devdas’s house. It was his job to look after Devdas, which he had been doing since his ward was one year old, till this time when he was twelve. He would accompany Devdas to the school from home and back as a routine each day. On this day too he was going to the school for the same reason. When he saw Parvati he asked, Hi Paru, where is your Dev-dada?

He has run away.

What do you mean he has run away? asked a very surprised Dharmadas.

The scene of Bhola’s plight flashed back into Parvati’s mind. She broke into giggles and started describing, See Dharma—Bhola flat on the lime—hee hee—Dev-dada—hee hee—

Dharma could not understand, however smiled a little. Tell me Paru, what happened? he coaxed her to get the information.

Dev-dada after pushing Bhola on the lime—hee, hee—

Dharmadas could now understand and became very concerned. Paru, can you tell me where is he now? he asked.

How do I know?

Yes, you know. Please tell me. He must be very hungry by now.

I know that, but I won’t tell you.

Why not?

He will hurt me. I can go and give him the food.

Dharmadas was somewhat satisfied. That will be nice, and try to get him home before evening, he said.

I shall do that.

On Coming home Parvati saw her and Devdas’s mothers were talking to each other and they knew what had happened. They still asked her about it. She narrated the whole story interspersed with giggles. Then she packed some fluffy rice in a bundle by the free end of her sari and headed for a mango grove belonging to the Zamindar. It was right near her house, and at the far end of it, there was a thicket of bamboo. She knew Devdas had cleared an area inside the thicket, to make room for himself as a hide out for smoking tobacco. If he was to run away from home, then this would be the place for him to go into. Getting inside the thicket, she found Devdas sitting with a small hookah in his hand, with the air of a grown up man and drawing occasional puffs from it. His face was solemn and lots of worries were showing on it. He was very glad to see Parvati, but did not reveal it. Come, he said in a somber voice while smoking.

Parvati went forward and sat by him. Devdas immediately noticed the small bundle in her sari. Without asking any question, he opened the bundle and started eating. Paru, what did pundit-moshai say? he asked.

He told everything to uncle.

Devdas put down the hookah and was wide eyed. He told my dad?

Yes.

Then?

They won’t let you go to school again.

I don’t want to go there either.

The food was almost finished, Devdas looked at Parvati and said, Give me sweets.

I didn’t bring sweets.

Then give me water.

Where can I find water?

Exasperated Devdas said, You don’t have anything, then why did you come? Go, fetch me water.

Parvati did not like the harsh tone of his voice. I cannot go out again. Come home with me, and get your food, she said.

How can I go now?

Are you going to stay here?

I shall stay here for now, then go away.

Parvati’s heart sank. Devdas’s apparent stoicism made her eyes misty. She said, Dev-da, I shall go with you.

Where? With me? How can that be?

I shall go, Parvati insisted shaking her head.

No, you don’t have to go. First fetch me water.

Parvati shook her head again. No, I must go.

First get me water.

I won’t go. You will run away.

No, I won’t.

Parvati was incredulous and remained seated. Devdas ordered her again, Go, I am telling you.

I can’t go.

Devdas got angry and pulling at Parvati’s hair repeatedly, said, Go, I am telling you.

Parvati kept silent. There was a punch on her back. You won’t go?

Parvati cried out, I shall never go.

Devdas left her alone. Parvati kept crying and came back to Devdas’s father. Narayan Mukherjee had great affection for Parvati. Paru, why are you crying, Ma? he asked.

Dev-da hit me.

Where is he?

He was smoking inside that bamboo grove.

Mukherjee was upset since the pundit visited him and now he became furious. Deva smokes? he asked.

Yes he does. He does it everyday. He has a hookah hidden in the bamboo grove.

Why didn’t you tell me before?

Dev-dada would hit me.

The statement in reality was not accurate. She did not divulge the secret before as she was afraid that Devdas would be punished. Today she gave it out in her anger. She was only eight years old and would get easily upset. But that did not mean that she could not discern the facts well. She went home, lied down on her bed, cried for sometime and then fell asleep. That night she even did not eat her dinner.

Chapter Two

The next day Devdas received a good bashing from his father and was locked up in a room for the whole day. When his mother started crying and urged for his release, then the door was opened. The next morning Devdas slipped out of the house and came in front of Parvati’s bedroom window. Paru, he called, Paru.

Parvati opened the window. Dev-da! she exclaimed.

Devdas signaled her to come outside. She came out and both sat side by side. Why did you tell them about my smoking? he asked.

Why did you hit me?

Why didn’t you go to get me water?

Parvati remained silent.

You are a real dummy, never tell them again.

No, Parvati assured him by nodding her head.

Then come, let us make a fishing pole. Today we have to catch fish at the dam.

There was a custard-apple tree near the bamboo thicket. He climbed up the tree and with much acrobatics could get hold of the tip of a bamboo sapling and bent it downward. Get hold of it and don’t let it go or I shall fall down, he instructed Parvati.

Parvati pulled at the tip and held it down with all her might. Devdas balancing himself on a tree limb started chopping at the bamboo stock. Dev-da, are you not going to school today? Parvati asked from down below.

No.

Uncle will make you go.

Dad himself said that I shall not go there any more. There will be a home tutor.

Parvati looked disconcerted. Our school starts early due to summer since yesterday, I have to go now.

No, you don’t have to go, Devdas retorted from above menacingly.

This time Parvati became little unmindful and her grip relaxed. The bamboo stock sprang back up and Devdas fell to the ground. Luckily he was not that high and was not seriously hurt, except for some bruises. Crazed Devdas picked up a dry bamboo twig and gave a few random whacks on her back, face and elsewhere.

Go, go away from here! he yelled.

Parvati was first ashamed of herself, but when the blows fell, her eyes were flashing in chagrin and tears rolled down. I am going to uncle, she said.

Devdas got further infuriated. Go, tell him right now, I don’t care, he said after hitting her once more.

Parvati left the place. After she had gone some distance, Devdas called, Hey, Paru.

Parvati pretended not to hear him and started walking faster. Hey Paru, listen to me, Devdas shouted again.

Parvati did not answer. Annoyed, Devdas said to himself loudly, Let her go to hell.

After Parvati left, Devdas sloppily prepared two fishing poles. His mind was perturbed. Parvati came back home crying. A blue swollen stripe on her cheek marked where she was hit. Her grandmother first noticed it. Oh, dear mother! Who hit you like that, Paru? she cried out.

Pundit-moshai, Parvati replied wiping her tears.

Grandmother was furious and placed Parvati on her lap. Come, let us go to Narayan, she said. We will find out how great the pundit is. He almost killed my child.

Let us go, Parvati said clinging to the neck of her grandmother.

They came to Mr. Mukherjee at his house. After wishing aloud the pundit and his several generations of descendants befitting bleak places in the afterworld and conferring some choicest names on the pundit, she started talking about the subject. Look Narayan, how impertinent the man is. Being a low caste lackey, he dares to hit the daughter of a Brahmin. See, how he has hurt her! She showed the blue stripe on Parvati’s face, greatly distressed.

Who beat you Paru? Mr. Mukherjee asked.

Parvati kept mum. Who else! It is that pigheaded pundit! the grandmother cried out.

Why did he beat you?

Parvati still did not talk. Mr. Mukherjee concluded that the beating was because of some offense on her part, but it should not have been that severe. He announced it that way. On hearing, Parvati exposed her back and said, He struck me here too.

The stripes on the back were more distinct and more severe. It infuriated them further. Mr. Mukherjee contemplated loudly of calling the pundit for an explanation and finally it was decided that children should not be sent for education to such a pundit.

Parvati was jubilant to hear the verdict and came back home clinging to her grandmother. But now she faced the interrogations from her mother. Tell me who beat you? she insisted for an answer.

He beat me without any reason, Parvati said.

Does anybody beat without a reason? she tugged at Parvati’s ear.

The grandmother was passing by on the corridor. She heard and came to the door. Bou-ma, being a mother you can hit her without a reason and you think that scoundrel cannot do that? she roared.

She was not beaten without a reason. What an innocent girl she is indeed!

Grandmother got annoyed. All right, may be that is true, but I won’t let her go to school anymore, she proclaimed.

Does not she need some education?

What is the need, Bou-ma! If she can write simple letters and read a few lines of Ramayana and Mahabharata then that should be enough. Is Paru going to be a judge or a lawyer?

The mother was quieted. That day Devdas came back home with great apprehension. He had no doubt in mind that Parvati had told the whole episode, but after getting into the house he found no affect of it. His mother told him that the pundit had too severely punished Parvati and she won’t go to school anymore. Devdas was overwhelmed with joy. He gobbled his lunch as fast as he could and then came running to Parvati. You won’t go to school anymore? he asked panting.

No

How did it happen?

I told them that pundit-moshai beat me up.

Devdas grinned heartily. He stroked her back and expressed his opinion that there was no other girl in this world as smart as her. He examined the cane stripes on her carefully and moaned.

What? Parvati asked him looking at his face and smiling.

It did hurt you a lot, didn’t it Paru?

Yeah, Parvati nodded.

I am sorry, but why do you act like that? It makes me mad, that is why I hit you.

Tears came to her eyes. She thought, ‘Shall I ask him what act?’ But she could not.

Don’t do that again, alright? he said putting his hand on her head.

I won’t, Parvati nodded. Devdas once more stroked her back and said, I shall never hit you again.

Chapter Three

Days rolled by. It was a happy pair of a boy and a girl. They would spend the whole day wandering under the hot sun, and would get punished when they came back home in the evening, but next day they would repeat the same again. At night they would sleep soundly without worries and next morning would sneak out of their houses and spend the whole day playing and wandering together. They did not have any other companion neither did they need one. The two were enough to torment the whole neighborhood. The other day in the early lights of dawn they went to the river by the levee, roiled the shallow water and caught fifteen putees which they divided between themselves on the basis of presumed competence and came back home in mid-afternoon with bloodshot eyes. Parvati received her share of rebuke from her mother and was locked up in her room. Devdas’s lot was unknown as he never disclosed it to anyone. About two or two-thirty o’clock in the afternoon he came near the window of Parvati’s room and called out in a muffled voice, Paru, hey Paru. A sullen Parvati perhaps heard that but did not answer. The rest of the day Devdas spent sitting on the branch of a magnolia tree. After a lot of cajoling Dharmadas could bring him down and back home; it was dusk by that time.

But it was that day only. The next day Parvati eagerly waited the whole morning, but Devdas did not come as he had gone with his father to the neighboring village to attend an invitation. A dejected Parvati set out of her house alone. The previous day while getting down in the river at the levee, Devdas had given Parvati three rupees for safe keeping. She still had the money inside a knot in a corner of her sari. She wandered around for some time swinging the knot. She could not find any one else to play with as the school was in session, and started walking to the other part of the village, to go to the house of Monoroma. She was Parvati’s friend, a little older than her and attended school. Parvati had not seen her for sometime. Today with the spare time in her hand, she entered her friend’s house and called out, Mono, are you home?

Monoroma’s paternal aunt came out.

Paru?

Yeah. Where is Mono, auntie?

She has gone to school. You didn’t go?

I don’t go. Dev-dada also does not.

Monoroma’s aunt smiled and said, You do not go, Dev-dada also does not go. That is good.

Nope, none of us go.

That is fine, but Mono has gone to school.

The aunt asked her to come inside and have a seat but Parvati went back out. On her way near Rasik Pal’s store she saw three women, Vaishnava mendicants with ochre streak painted on the their nose and tambourine in their hand, who were going for alms. Oh Bostomi, do you know how to sing? Parvati asked them.

One looked around and said, Of course we know, child.

Then why don’t you sing one?

All three of them stopped. How can we sing, Ma? one of them said. You need to give us alms. Let us go to your house, we will sing there."

No, you sing here.

But you need to give paisa, Ma.

Parvati showed the knot on her Sari. I don’t have paisa but I have rupee, she said.

On seeing the money they sat at a place not far away from the store. They started playing the tambourines and sang a few songs together. What the songs were about and what the words meant, she could not understand anything. Perhaps she would not understand even if she tried. The tunes sent her mind wandering in the company of her Dev-dada.

After finishing the songs they said, Well, Ma, what alms you want to give us? You can give it now.

Parvati untied the knot in her Sari and gave them the three rupees which she had in it. All three of them nonplussed, gazed at her face.

Whose money is this, child? one asked.

Dev-dada’s.

Is he not going to punish you?

Parvati thought for a moment. No, she replied.

Long live, Ma, one of them said.

Three of you can divide the money quite easily, isn’t it? Parvati said smiling.

That is true, all three nodded. May Radharani bless you. With this benediction and praying that the little girl with a big heart does not get into trouble because of her charitable act, they departed. Parvati came back home a little early that day. The next morning she met Devdas. He had a reel in his hand but the kite was missing which he would have to buy. Seeing Parvati he said, Paru, give me the money.

Parvati’s face turned ashen. I don’t have the money, she said.

What happened?

I gave it to the Bostomis. They sang.

You gave it all?

All. It was only three rupees.

You are a dummy. You didn’t have to give it all!

"How! There were three of them! Unless I gave them three rupees, how they would divide it?

If it was me, I would have given them two rupees, Devdas said solemnly. Scribbling on the dirt with the shaft of the reel, he said, Each of them would get ten annas, thirteen gondas, one kora and one kranti.

Parvati thought for some time. They cannot do arithmetic like you, she said.

Devdas’s mathematical learning had barely reached that level. He was pleased by Parvati’s remark. That is true, he concurred.

I thought you would beat me up, Dev-da, she said clasping his hand.

Devdas was surprised, Why should I beat you?

Bostomis said you would beat me.

The answer amused Devdas. Silly, do I ever hit you unless you have done something wrong? he said pressing on her shoulder.

Devdas perhaps appraised Parvati’s action as not an offense per his own penal code; because it was true that it would be easier for three persons to divide three rupees between themselves. Particularly in this case, it would tantamount to torture on the three Bostomis to ask them to divide two rupees between themselves; as they had never gone to school or attained the proficiency in mathematics like him. Holding Parvati’s hand, he proceeded towards the little bazaar for buying a kite, after hiding the reel in a nearby bush.

Chapter Four

One year passed by that way but now the time was straining to move. Devdas’s mother was creating frequent fracases. She told her husband, Devdas is turning into an ignorant bumpkin, you need to do something about it.

He thought about it and then said, Let Deva go to Calcutta. There he can stay at Nagen’s house and go to school.

Nagen was Devdas’s maternal uncle. All came to know about the plan. Parvati got scared. When she found Devdas alone, swinging from his arm, she asked him, Dev-da, are you going to Calcutta?

Who said that?

Uncle said.

Forget it, no way I shall go.

But if he forces you?

Force?

Devdas made a face which clearly conveyed to Parvati, that no one in this world can force Devdas to do anything. This reassured her and with great happiness, she continued her swinging. Watch out Dev-da, don’t get forced to go she said smiling, looking at his face.

Never.

Devdas however had to renege on his promise. At the end of his father’s tirades, he had to take his reluctant trip to Calcutta with Dharmadas. The day he went, he was sullen; the thought of going to a new place failed to arouse any curiosity or excitement in him. Parvati did not want to leave him that day. She was crying and pleading, but nobody would listen to her. A glum Parvati did not speak with Devdas for sometime. Then Devdas said to her, Paru, I shall come back soon. If they do not send for me, then I shall find my own way here. Parvati regained her composure and poured out her tiny heart in many words. Devdas then with blessings from his mother and her tear drops on his brow, sat inside the coach; the horses tugged at it slowly and then trotted away.

Parvati was very depressed. Tear drops would roll down her cheeks. Agony swelled up in her heart. The first few days went by like that, and then one morning she suddenly realized that she had nothing to do for the whole day. Since she left school, all those days morning till evening were filled with fun and game and she never seemed to have enough time. Now she found that there was plenty of time but very little to do. Sometimes in the morning she sat down to write a letter and it went on till ten. Mother would get upset but grandmother would protest, Oh no, it is alright that the child writes. It is better to read and write in the morning instead of scampering around.

Whenever Parvati received a letter from Devdas, that would be a red letter day for her. She would sit on the door sill by the stairs and for the whole day read the letter over and over again. Two months went by. Finally receiving or writing a letter were not that frequent anymore. Emotions appeared to have abated to some extent.

One day Parvati went to her mother and said, Mother, I want to go to school again.

Why, dear? the surprised mother asked.

I must go, Parvati tossed her head.

That’s alright, you can go. Did I ever forbid you from going to school, Ma?

That day in mid-morning, Parvati holding hand of a maid by one hand and with the long neglected slate, pencil and book on the other hand, went to school. In quiet sluggish steps she reached for her same old seat and seated herself. The maid told the pundit, Guru-moshai, please do not hit Paru again; she has come back on her own volition. She will study as long as she wants and will go home when she likes.

The pundit said to himself, ‘Amen.’ However he answered, It will be that way.

He even felt an urge to ask why Parvati was not sent to Calcutta, but he did not speak out. Parvati looked around and saw Bhola sitting on his same old place. She first felt amused but then tears welled up. She felt mad at Bhola, as she reckoned it was Bhola, who was responsible for the exile of Devdas.

Time kept rolling and a few months later on summer vacation, Devdas came home. Parvati came running to meet him. She did not have much to say, or even if she had, she could not say it. Devdas talked a lot, mostly about Calcutta. Then one day the summer vacation ended and Devdas went back to Calcutta. This time also Parvati cried a lot, but with diminished ardor. The cycle repeated for four years. In all these years, Devdas’s personality changed so much, that a troubled Parvati would shed a few drops of tears. By living in a city, Devdas was now free from all boorishness. Without English shoes, fine clothing, gold buttons, gold chained watch and walking stick, he would feel ill at ease to go out. A walk by the riverside did not interest him anymore, instead he would prefer to go out hunting with his gun. No more would he go for catching little putees in the river; instead he would like to see a large carp hooked to his fishing line. And that was not all. His topics of discussions were; community matters, politics, cricket and soccer. Parvati and the little village of Talshonapur did not have a place there. Occasionally the sweet memory of isolated incidents of childhood days would emerge in his mind, but only to be promptly replaced by other more important concerns of the present.

Summer vacation was there again. The previous year, Devdas had spent the vacation sight seeing in other states and did not come home. This year his parents were insistent for him to come home and that is why he was at Howrah Station with his luggage to catch the train. When he arrived home in Talshonapur village, he was not feeling well and stayed at home. The next day, he came to Parvati’s house and called from outside, Auntie!

Parvati’s mother was pleased to see him and invited him, Come in son, come in.

After talking with Parvati’s mother for some time he asked, Where is Paru, Auntie?

I guess she is in her room upstairs.

Devdas walked upstairs and saw Parvati was lighting a lamp as it was dusk. Paru! he called.

Parvati was startled to see him. She did her obeisance and stood aside.

What are you doing, Paru? he asked.

The answer was obvious, so Parvati remained silent. Shyness was gripping over Devdas. It is getting dark, I shall go now, he said.

Devdas left.

Chapter Five

Parvati was now thirteen—a favorite topic for grandmother to talk about. This is the age when suddenly all the beauty rushes in from some unknown source and covers the body of an adolescent girl. Parents and relatives to their surprise discover that their little girl is now grown up. It now becomes a priority to find a suitable groom for the girl. The last few days, the Chakraborty-house had been buzzing with discussions on this subject. The mother was at a somber mood, and at every opportunity would remind her husband that it was taking too long for them to help Parvati to leave their home. They were not rich, but their succor was in prettiness of the girl. If beauty is appreciated in this world, then there would be nothing to worry about Parvati. There is one more thing that needs to be mentioned here—the Chakraborty family never had to worry about getting their daughters married, but they had to for their sons. In their daughter’s wedding they would accept dowry from the groom’s family, but for son they would pay for getting the bride. Nilkantha Chakraborty’s father also received money at the marriage of his daughter, but Nilkantha himself abhorred this custom. He flinched at the idea of earning money by selling Parvati, which was appreciated by her wife as helpful towards finding a suitable groom for Parvati. A far fetched hope had found its place in her heart before—she would ruminate if there was a way to get Devdas to marry Parvati. She did not consider this as an impossibility. She thought that if Devdas could know about her wish, then he himself would provide some help in the matter. That was the reason one day Parvati’s grandmother casually told Devdas’s mother, Oh yes, Bou-ma, have you noticed how much Devdas and Paru like each other? You don’t see like that anywhere else.

Is not that natural, Aunt! Debdas’s mother replied. They grew up together like brother and sister.

Yes Ma, yes,—that is why it seems—if the two—just look at it, Bou-ma, when Devdas went to Calcutta, the child was only eight years old, even at that age she was worried sick. Whenever a letter arrived from Devdas, it became an opus for her—we all know about it. Parvati’s grandmother ended her pitch.

Devdas’s mother fully understood the implied message. She smiled—a sneer mixed with pain. She knew Parvati too well and loved her. But, the daughter of a child-trader! Besides to have in-laws next door! That would be a shame!

Aunt, my husband does not intend at all to get Devdas married at such an early age, particularly when his studies are not yet over, she said. Husband still says, ‘What a disaster we caused by getting our older son Dwijodas married at childhood! He could not get an education.’

Parvati’s grandmother was undaunted. I know all that Bou-ma, she said, but still you know—Paru is a blessed child; she has grown fast in her features and is not likely to grow further. So—so—if Narayan does not have objection—

Devdas’s mother interrupted, No, Aunt, I cannot tell him about that. If I raise the topic of Devdas’s marriage now, he is not going to see my face again!

The discussion ended there. But it is hard for a woman to keep a secret. At dinner she disclosed it to her husband. Paru’s grandmother was talking about paru’s marriage today, she said.

Well, Paru has come of age, marriage should be arranged for her soon, he said lifting his head.

That is what she came to tell. She said if with Devdas—

What did you tell her? husband frowned.

What can I tell her! The two are so fond of each other; but, for that reason can I bring into my house a daughter of ‘child traders’, from Chakraborty caste? Besides in-laws at next door? That will be a shame!

The patriarch was pleased. Exactly. I cannot become a laughing stock of the society. Don’t pay any attention to such talks, he said.

I shall not, but you too do not forget, the wife replied with a wry grin.

The solemn faced patriarch took a morsel of rice. Such a huge estate would have disappeared long ago, if I was that like that, he said.

His talent for managing his huge estate became a detriment for Parvati’s happiness. When Nilkantha heard about the outright rejection of the proposal, he admonished his mother, Mother, why did you go to tell all these things?

Mother kept silent.

We never need to beg at the feet of anyone for the marriage of our daughter, it should be other way round, Nilkantha’s voice was brimming with confidence. My daughter is not ugly. Just watch, I am telling you—within a week I shall arrange for her marriage. There is no reason to worry.

But the person for whom the father made such a lofty commitment, felt like the sky was falling over her. Since childhood, she had an impression that she had some rights over Devdas. It was not like that someone handed over the rights to her; at the beginning she herself could not realize, but unconsciously she was letting her restive mind build up a firm claim over him. There was no apparent expression of the claim, but now the specter of losing him put her heart in turmoil.

The same was not true in case of Devdas. At childhood when he had full control over Parvati, he made full use of it. When he went to Calcutta, he got preoccupied with work and entertainment and Parvati almost lost her place in his mind. He did not know that in her monotonous rural life, it was about him, who Parvati was building her dreams. She had never thought before that the boy she had known since her childhood as her own, to whom she could demand anything right or wrong, could suddenly slip away from her at the doorway to adulthood. The idea of marriage had not dawned in her mind. Now she knew that the bond of adolescence could not remain lifelong, without tying the knots of marriage. ‘There cannot be a marriage,’ this news started a storm to uproot all hopes and aspirations which had found place at her heart.

Devdas had to study in morning hours; noon time was too hot and it was only during the afternoon he could go out if he wanted. Well dressed, shod with expensive shoes, and with a walking stick in hand, he would go out for a walk in the open fields. He had to pass by the Chakraborty house. Parvati would watch him from the upstairs window and wipe her tears. Memories came rushing back in her mind. They were both grown up now. After prolonged separation they became shy of each other. The other day Devdas could not talk to her. He was too demure, and Parvati could realize that.

Devdas too was aware of this. Sometimes he would have an urge to talk to her and look at her more closely, but then the question would arise in his mind, ‘Will it be appropriate?’

There was no din and bustle of Calcutta at this place, no fun and entertainment, no musical sessions or dance extravaganza at the theatres—that was why all the time the childhood memories appeared in his mind. He reminisced the old Parvati who was now this Parvati. She too reminisced the old Devdas who was now this Devdas-babu. Devdas did not go to Chakraborty-house frequently anymore. Sometimes he would go and standing in the courtyard would call out, Auntie, how are you doing?

Come in son, have a seat, Parvati’s mother would say.

That’s all right auntie, I am just going out for a walk, he would say.

Parvati would sometimes stay upstairs, or other times happened to be in front of him. Devdas would talk with the aunt and Parvati would slowly slip away. At summer night when the light was on at Devdas’s room, Parvati would look at that direction through the open window for a long time, although nothing much could be seen. Parvati had always been a proud girl. She suffered in silence and tried her utmost not to let anyone know about it, as she could not stand sympathy and death would be preferable to being chastised or derided. Monoroma got married last year, but had not yet moved to her husband’s house. She would visit her time to time. The two friends used to talk about Devdas before, but now Parvati would not discuss the subject and would change the topic whenever it came up.

Parvati’s father had come back home last night. The last few days, he had been out looking for a groom for Parvati. Now after finalizing the deal for marriage, he had returned. The Zamindar of Hatipota village, about fifty miles away at Burdwan district was the bridegroom. He was a well to do person under forty whose wife passed away the previous year and now he was marrying again. It was not that the news delighted all in the family; in fact some were disheartened. However the fact that about three thousand rupees in various ways, would come into the family from the groom Bhubon Choudhury, quieted the womenfolk.

One day when Devdas was having his lunch, mother came to him and said, Paru is getting married.

When? Devdas asked lifting his face.

This month. Yesterday they came to see the bride. The groom came himself.

Oh! I didn’t know anything about it, mother, Devdas exclaimed.

Yes, I know. The groom is a second timer and somewhat elderly, but he has got money. Paru will live in comfort.

Devdas continued eating his lunch with his head lowered. They had a wish to have the relationship with us, the mother continued.

Then? Devdas asked lifting his face.

No, we cannot go for that. First of all, they are the family who sell their daughter in the name of marriage, and secondly they are our next door neighbor. The mother smirked, which did not escape the attention of Devdas.

I talked to Karta about it, she continued after a brief silence.

What did father say? Devdas asked again lifting his face.

What else would he say? He cannot make this respectable family a laughing stock of the society, that is what he said.

Devdas did not talk further.

That day at noon, Monoroma and Parvati were having a conversation. Parvati was with tears in her eyes and Monoroma had just wiped her own off. What can be done now, sister? Monoroma asked.

What can be done about it? Did you choose your own husband for marrying him? Parvati answered wiping her tears.

My case was different. I did not like nor dislike anyone. But sister, you have shot at your own foot!

Parvati did not answer and kept pondering.

Monoroma thought about something and smiled. Paru, what is the age of the groom? she asked.

Which groom?

Yours.

Parvati thought for a moment. Perhaps Nineteen, she replied.

Monoroma was very surprised. How is that? I heard he is about forty!

Parvati smiled a little. Mono-didi, lot of people are forty years of age. Do I keep an account on them? I only know that my groom is nineteen or twenty, she said.

Monoroma stared at her face. What is his name?

Parvati laughed. You don’t know that till now?

How shall I know?

You do not Know? All right, let me tell you. Once laughing and then sober she whispered into Monoroma’s ear, Sri Devdas—

Monoroma was flabbergasted and then recovering, gave a slight push at Parvati. All right, stop kidding now, she said. You may not get a chance later, she said.

I have already told you.

If his name is Devdas then why are you crying your heart out? Monoroma asked angrily.

Parvati suddenly became sad and thought for a moment. That’s right, she said. "I won’t