# Eyesore/Chapter 33

XXXIII
Rajlakshmi had not inquired for Binodini since the morning. Binodini as usual went into the store-room, but Rajlakshmi would not look up at her.
It was all clear to Binodini, yet she said "Aren't you well, Pishima? No wonder! after the absurd way Brother Mahim went on last night! He seemed beside himself when he came to our balcony. I couldn't get a wink of sleep after that."
Rajlakshmi's manner did not relax, nor did she make any sign of assent or dissent.
"Even if he has the least bit of a quarrel with my Eyesore," Binodini went on, "there's no holding him in. He must drag me in, then and there, to get it made up, no matter what time of the night it may be. Your son may have all the virtues you claim for him, Pishima, but patience he has not. That's why we've never been able to pull on together."
"Don't keep chattering nonsense child," said Rajlakshmi. "I'm not in the mood for that sort of thing to-day."
"Well, if it comes to that," retorted Binodini, "I'm not in the mood either! If I talked nonsense it was to save your feelings, to shield your son's good name. But it's come to such a pass that the truth can't be hidden any longer!"
"I knew the good and the bad in my son, well enough. But I did not know the sort of deceitful minx you were!"
Binodini seemed on the point of coming out with a passionate reply but she restrained herself and said calmly, "You are right, Pishima, no one can know another. But does every one know oneself? Did your jealousy of your daughter-in-law never make you use me to draw your son's heart away from his wife;—can you deny it?"
"Wretched creature!" Rajlakshmi flared up, "you dare accuse a mother of doing this to her son, and your tongue doesn't drop off?"
"True, Pishima," Binodini continued unmoved, "we are a deceitful sex. The deceit that was in me I didn't clearly know, but you seem to have discovered it; and the deceit that was in you, you weren't fully aware of, but I found it out long ago. Yes, we are a deceitful sex."
Rajlakshmi speechless with passion, whirled out of the room. Binodini remained for a while standing where she was, her eyes blazing defiance.
After the morning's household work was over Rajlakshmi sent for Mahendra. He knew that he would be called upon for an explanation of last night's affair. He had just received Binodini's reply and was completely upset over it. Her contemptuous rebuff made his whole being rebound towards her with an irresistible impulse. He was not in a frame of mind to bandy words with his mother. Any attack against Binodini, he knew, would make him blurt out the whole truth, and thereafter there would be no peace in the house. The best plan he felt would be to get far away from home and think over the situation. "Tell mother," he said to the servant, "that I've got to go to college early to-day and will see her when I come back." And like a truant schoolboy he hastily dressed himself and slipped out without his breakfast. He had been carrying Binodini's tormenting letter about with him reading and re-reading it, since the early morning. In his haste he had left it in the pocket of his tunic when changing into his college suit.
The lowering clouds had kept hanging on in the intervals of heavy showers of rain. Binodini had not been able to compose herself since her passage with Rajlakshmi, and it was her habit when disturbed in mind to throw herself all the more into her work. Thus had she volunteered to do the marking of the clothes. Her glimpse of Asha upstairs had not tended to improve her temper. If it was she that was always to be branded as the criminal, why should she not take her share of the sweets as well as the blame, she thought bitterly.
​Another heavy shower had come on in the afternoon. Binodini was sitting on the floor of her room. In front of her was a heap of clothes. The maid was handing them to her, one by one, and Binodini was marking them.
Mahendra, without any attempt to announce himself, rushed right into the room as he came downstairs with the letter. The maid dropped the clothes she was holding, drew down her veil, and bolted. Binodini started to her feet, scattering her marking things. "Go out of my room, will you?" she commanded.
Mahendra.—"Why, what have I done?"
Binodini.—"What have you done, you miserable coward! Ask rather, what can you do? Why are you trying to ruin my life-you who know neither love, nor duty?"
Mahendra.—"You really think I do not love you?"
Binodini.—"That's exactly what I do think. This double-dealing, this hide and seek, this slinking away like a thief makes me fairly sick. I'll have no more of it. Get away from my room, please."
Mahendra.—"So you think me a contemptible creature, Binod?"
Binodini.—"I do."
Mahendra.—"There's still time to make amends, Binod. What if I have done with the conflict? What if I leave everything else? Would you then come with me Binod?" He clasped both Binodini's hands in his own and drew her forcibly towards himself.
"Let me go! you're hurting me!" cried Binodini.
Mahendra.—"Let it hurt. Tell me, will you come with me!"
Binodini.—"No, never!"
Mahendra.—"Why will you not? Haven't you dragged me to the brink of this precipice? You can't forsake me now, you must come with me to the end." He crushed her to his breast as he continued: "Even your contempt won't drive me away. I must and shall take you with me. Somehow or other I'll make you love me."
Binodini snatched herself away from his arms.
"You've set the fire blazing all round, Now you can't put it out, nor can you escape," Mahendra went on, raising his voice higher and higher till he shouted: "What made you play such a terrible game, Binod? Calling it play can't save you any longer, now there's only one death for you and me!"
"Whatever are you doing, Mahin?" cried Rajlakshmi as she hurried into the room.
Mahendra's wild gaze turned for a moment towards his mother, and then it fastened back on Binodini as he repeated, "I am leaving my all, I ask you for the last time, will you come with me?"
Binodini glanced once towards the infuriated Rajlakshmi, and then calmly stepping upto Mahendra she took him by the hand and said, "I will!"
"Then wait just a day more. I am off now. From to-morrow there'll be no one else in the world for me, but you." And Mahendra was gone.
"I can't wait any longer, mother," whined the washerman from the passage. "If you are too busy to attend to the clothes to-day, I'll come round for them tomorrow."
The rest of the world went on as usual.
Translated by
Surendranath Tagore.