# Kapalkundala (Ghose)/Part 2/Chapter 6

CHAPTER VI.
In domestic seclusion.
Every body is aware that Saptagram was a city of considerable importance in her past days. Once she formed the trysting ground of maritime traders of every clime from Java to Rome. But her old splendours were much on the wane between the Bengali 10th and 11th centuries. Its main reason was that the river that washed the edge of the city was shrunk up in its channel so that sailing crafts of larger draughts could not push up well within her harbour. So she lost much of her commercial importance. A city of commercial greatness loses everything with the loss of her commercial glory. Such was the ease with Saptagram.
Hooghly, in the 11th century, was leaping into existence and fame as her rival with all her nascent glories. The Portuguese established their business houses there which drew the wealth and opulence of Saptagram. But till then Saptagram was not shorn of all the vestiges of her fallen greatness. She still formed the headquarters of Fouzdars and other important Government officials though a large area of the city lost much of her attractiveness and, being uninhabited, gradually wore the aspect of a village.
​Nabokumar's house was situated in an out-of-the-way nook on the periphery of Saptagram. The streets in her much ruined state were sequestered and overgrown with shrubs and trailers. In the background of Nabokumar's dwelling place lay a thick forest. A small stream ran across a mile's distance in the fore-ground that meandering its course around a small field entered the wood. The house was brick-built though on an all-round consideration it did not rise much above the common-place. Although double-storied, it was not enormously high and so could not have any pretension to a mansion. Its specimen height can, now-a-days, be seen in the basement in many instances.
Two young women stood on the house-top and were viewing the country round below. The house was framed in a beautiful setting. It was evening and the landscape was really beautiful and fascinating. Close by, lay the dense woodland with the innumerable feathered choristers singing their piping chorus inside with the rivulet flowing at a distance, looking a thin silver ribbon. Yonder across the grounds unrolled the panoroma of landscape and town where gleamed ten thousand edifices of the vast city the windows and casements of which were thronged with citizens eager to have an airing in the soft breeze of the fresh spring. Far away on the otherside, were the shadows of the evening thickening over the broad water of the Bhagirathi crowded with sailing smacks.
Of the young women on the terrace, the complexion ​of one had the gleam of the moon-shine. Her figure was half-concealed amidst her loose dark tresses. The other dark-skinned and of clear-cut features was neither just in nor well out of her gushing sixteen. She was thin and small. Her small ringlets were blown-over the upper half of her tiny face like the petals of a full-blown lotus encircling the cup in the centre. Her eyes were large and of a mild white as of the fish. Her tiny fingers were enmeshed in her companion's flowing mass of curling hair. Our presumption is at par that the reader has recognised the girl with the tint of the silver moon-beam to be our Kapalkundala. We may let him understand, besides, that the dark-complexioned one is her sister-in-law, Shyamasunari.
Shyamasundari was addressing her brother's wife at times as 'Bow' (brother's wife), sometimes endearingly as sister and at other times as Mrino. The name Kapalkundala was a bit horrible so women-folk called her Mrinmoyee. We, too, shall hence forward call her by this name though not too often. Shyamasundari was reciting verses from a nursery poem:
They say the lotus-queen that veils her
face when falls the night
Makes buds to ope and bees to flee as her
dear lord's in sight.
With leaves spread-out to the tree the
woodland creeper flies,
So the river stream when comes the
flood to the ocean hies.
when the moon doth shine,
And the newly wedded bride, her wedlock
o'er, does for her husband pine.
Shyamasundari. "Would you lead an ascetic's single life all your days?"
"Why? what asceticism do I practise?" replied Mrinmoyee.
Shyamasundari with both hands lifting Mrinmoyee's rich curling locks exclaimed "Would you never gather this heap of hair in a knot?"
Mrinmoyee with a soft smile gently extricated her hair from Shyama's clutches.
"Well and good" continued Shyamasundari "Do but fulfil my wishes. Once attire yourself after the style of our household women. How long, Oh God, would you play the ascetic?"
"I had ever been an ascetic girl before I fell in with this son of a Brahmin."
"Now you must forego that."
"Why forego?"
"Why? would you see? I will break your asceticism. Do you know what a philosopher's stone is?"
"No"
"The philosopher's stone turns the rusty bars of iron into gold."
"What of that?"
"Women have, too, their philosopher's stone."
​"What is it?"
"Man. The forest-maid with his touch blossoms into a full-blown house-wife. You have touched that stone."
Then she hummed in the following air in a tuneful voice:
I shall bind thy ample locks of hair And give thee shining robe to wear; Your braid shall shine with flowers fresh, A tiara shall thy temple grace; There shall be a girdle for thy waist, For ears, a pair of pendants best; Nut, leaf and betel spices sweet, Sandal and ingredients meet, Delicious shall thy cup overflow; Thy ruddy lips shall ruddier glow. There shall, a boy, as bright as gold And fair, as doll, thy arms enfold; And, I am sure, such a sight as this Will fill your heart with joy and bliss.
"Well, now I understand. Granted, I have touched the philosopher's stone and in contact with it have turned into gold; granted, I have braided the hair and stuck up flower in the braided knot; granted, I have dangled the waist-band on the loin and hung up ear-rings in the ear; granted, I have used plenty of sandal, kunkum, chooa, betel and betel-nut and am delivered even of the precious sweet boy babe; granted, it gave a fillip to my pleasures. After all, do these make up happiness?"
​"Answer if the flower has any joy in its bloom."
"Men are delighted to see it. But what does it matter to the flower?"
Shyama's looks fell and dark shadows flitted across her face. Like the petals of a lotus blown by the morning wind, her big blue eyes stared hard and twinkled.
"What has it to do with flower?" echoed she "That I can never say. I 11ever grew up into a flower that blossomed. But if ever I could be a rose-bud like you, then perhaps I would have a taste of the thrill of delights in the blossom."
Seeing her silent, Shyama continued "Well and good. But if it does not follow, then let me hear your idea of happiness."
Mrinmoyee bethought herself a while and said "I can not explain it. Perhaps I would have been happy if I could but wander through the sea-side wilderness."
Shyamasundari was no little disconcerted to hear this. That their care and good treatment bestowed no benefits upon Mrinmoyee stung her and ruffled her temper.
"Is there any means of return?" asked she.
"No. Not any."
"Then what you propose?"
Adhicary used to say "We do as we are ordained to do."
Shyamasundari hid her face with her cloth and shook with laughter.
​"As you please, your most Noble Eminence" added she. "What is the conclusion?"
Mrinmoyee heaved a heavy sigh and rejoined. "Let God's will be done. Come what may."
"What? What else in store? There are brighter and happier days for you. Why you drew that sigh?"
"Hear me," proceeded Mrinmoyee. "Just before we left the place on the day I started forth with my husband I went to place the trident leaf at Bhowani's feet as I used to undertake no work until I had done the same. The trident leaf used to stick up if the work in hand was sure to prosper and it shook and fell if the work was to end in a fiasco. I had my misgivings with regard to my adventure into a foreign land in company of a foreigner and so visited the Goddess to read the auguries. Mother Goddess let fall the trident leaf and so I am afraid what the future may bring forth."
Mrinmoyee ended. A shudder crept into Shyama and she gave a start.