# Tales of Bengal (Sita and Santa Chattopadhyay)/The Wedding Dress

The Wedding Dress.
"Rangadidi!"
"What is it, Ranu?"
"Don't you know that to-day is Sushi's birthday? So they are going to hold a fancy-dress party at their place. I intend to go dressed as the goddess Lakshmi. But I have not got a red sari. So mother has sent me to you. She said that you had got lots of beautiful saris of Benares silk."
"My dear, we are old-fashioned people. Our things would not be to your taste. You are very modern and have taken to going to the Mem-Sahib's school."
"There now, Rangadi, how you talk, to be sure! What if you are old-fashioned? Pray, is not Lakshmi even more old-fashioned than yourself? Now, please, do open your trunk and let me see what you have got."
I had to sit up at the urgency of my little grand-daughter's manner. I unlocked my trunk and took out nearly twenty or twenty-five saris. Waves of red, blue, green and pink rolled along the floor of my room, with glittering golden and silver flowers and leaves, but none found favour with the critical little girl. As soon as I took out one she turned up her nose and exclaimed: "This won't do, Rangadidi! Lakshmi won't look right in that."
I gave it up in despair and said, "Then, darling, I am afraid I shall not be able to suit you. You must try elsewhere."
My little darling stood there with a sulky expression on her pretty face and showed not the faintest sign of moving. Suddenly she exclaimed, "But, Rangadi, what do you keep in that box of white stone, there by the side of ​the big iron safe? Something like gold is glittering between the fretwork."
That marble box! I had quite forgotten it. It must be about forty years since that day when I first put my foot within the threshold of this room, dressed in the red silk of a bride, with tinkling anklets on and anointed with sandal paste. That little box stood then in that very place. Its colour was then like the fresh sea-foam, that crests the waves of the blue ocean; now it has taken on a yellowish tinge with the passage of time. I have gone on seeing it nearly every day of my life, but somehow it had escaped my memory.
I turned to Ranu and said, "Ranu, that was a fortunate reminder of yours. You might get the very thing you wanted in this marble box. It contains my wedding dress. I put it there the day I first made my appearance in this house and I have not touched it ever since. So long as your aunt Kalyani was alive she used to take it out frequently, shake and fold it, and make no end of it. But after her death nobody paid any attention to it any more. I will take it out for you, if the worms have left anything."
The box was secured by a small, old-fashioned brass lock. I picked out its key after a good search among my large bunch of keys. I was doubtful whether the lock would yield to this rusty little key, but my fears proved to be false. I pulled up the lid.
Ranu cried out aloud in her delight, "Oh, what a a beauty! Rangadi, I have never seen the like of you! What do you mean by neglecting such a fine thing? It is a mercy that the worms have spared it. I see only two or three small holes. But it is still quite wearable. But how is it that the box smells so beautifully of camphor?"
"Your aunt Kalyani used keep chains of camphor beads in it."
"But what kind of an ornament is this, Rangadi? ​It looks like a chain of golden jasmines. Such a thing, too, you have left uncared for in this old box! You do neglect your things, I must say that. I have a good mind to run away with it, but I know mother would give me a good slap if I took away such a costly thing. Do you know, ever since I lost that ugly old brooch of mine mother does not let me touch a single thing. So Lakshmi will have to be content with tinsel ornaments this evening. But I must hurry, else I shall be late for the party."
My granddaughter danced out of the room, with the red sari. I remained seated on the floor, in front of the open box. Somehow I felt a great disinclination to get up.
Do not scorn it because it is an old woman's life history. I too was young once. And do you know, my beautiful lady readers, that I too had a time when people's eyes clung only to me, even if I stood among a thousand pretty girls?
II.
I was born in an ancient aristocratic family. Looked at from the outside, we wanted nothing. We had unbounded wealth, a great ancestral house, retainers and servants innumerable. I was born after four brothers, so the usual want of notice and care which a girl gets as her birth portion never fell to my lot. For a long time I enjoyed all the wealth of affection which an only baby among a family of grown-ups had a right to expect. When my little nephews and nieces made their appearances I assumed the role of aunt with due dignity and importance.
My grandmother had named me Vidyut (Lightning). Many people give the name "Lotus eyed" to their blind children, but everybody with one accord declared that I had fully justified my name. You may be sure that I was quite conscious of the fact. I was as proud as anything of my ​brilliant complexion and beautiful face. My mother had a large mirror in her bedroom, and whenever I found her absent from her room I went and stood before that mirror, admiring myself. I used to lean back my head and make the mass of my dark wavy hair touch the ground, or dress it in as many fashions as I possibly could. Sometimes I held up my beautiful arms, white as alabaster and rounded as the stalk of a lotus, to the golden morning light and gazed at them with eyes of wonder.
From my very childhood I refused to put on any colours except red or dark blue—I was quite aware of the fact that these two colours enhanced the beauty of my fine complexion. My grandfather was alive then. He used to be greatly amused at my pride and say, "My dear, it will be a hard job to find out a suitable bridegroom for you, great beauty that you are. To my knowledge, there is only one person worthy of that honour, that being my own humble self."
Though the scion of an old conservative family, my father cherished many modern theories and ideas. But as my grandfather was alive, he was unable to carry most of his theories into practice. A great agitation was then going on in Bengal about the education of women. My father sided with the modern party, who stood in favour of it, but not daring to send any girls of his family to the new girls' school, he himself began to teach me and my two sisters-in-law. But the last-mentioned young ladies favoured card-playing and gossiping much more than they did their studies. They had to make a show of studying so as not to fail in proper respect to their father-in-law, but they could never keep to it for more than half an hour. There never was any want of excuses—either their babies began to cry or some household duty required their prompt attention. But I took to my studies from the beginning. I finished all the books my father had brought into the ​inner apartments; then began to make inroads at night upon my father's library, which was situated in the outer apartments.
It was the custom of our family to marry the girls very early. My sisters-in-law too had been married in their childhood. But the old order changed in my case. As I was the only daughter of our house, neither my mother nor my grandmother could live without me a single day. If anybody asked any questions about my age they always gave me out to be three or four years younger than I really was and never failed to remark, "We give our girls in marriage early, not because we must, but because we will. Nobody would dare to object if we did otherwise. We are a great Kulin family, many daughters of our house had remained unmarried their whole lives and nobody had anything to say."
So I was growing up, without any thought of my marriage. My grandmother sometimes reminded others it was high time to think of my marriage, but she received but scant hearing. I used to hear that a suitable bridegroom was being sought for, but nobody seemed to be very energetic about it. As the people around us were mostly our tenants, they never said anything to our faces, and if they said anything behind our backs, nobody brought it to our notice.
My eldest brother's marriage had taken place even before my birth; my second brother too had been married when I was quite small. My third brother was considerably younger than the elder ones, and now his marriage was about to be solemnised. My grandfather wished it to be a very grand affair, as he was doubtful whether he would live to see any other festive ceremony of the family.
The bride-elect was the daughter of a poor house, but as she was reported to be supremely beautiful, my ​grandfather consented to the match. After the bride had been formally seen and chosen, he came to me and said with a smile, "My dear, you think that your beauty stands unrivalled, so you do not condescend even to look at this old fellow. As I am quite tired of your imperiousness, I am bringing home a greater beauty than even you."
I laughed at his words, but somehow I felt a little uneasy in my mind. Was she really more beautiful? Well, let her come, then I shall be able to judge.
The wedding itself was to be a very simple affair, as the bride's father was a poor man. But the prepartions that were being made for the reception of the bride in our house were meant to make up for all want of magnificence in the wedding. A great feast was to be given in our house; then all the family, together with an enormous number of friends, relations and guests, was to go out to a villa, situated on the banks of the Ganges, and spend a festive week there. Ample provisions had been made for entertaining the guests with dance, music, and theatrical performances.
The day of the home-coming of the bride arrived. The festal clamour in our house was great enough to be almost deafening. A band had struck up near the outer gate, and all the children had assembled there to listen to the music. My mother and my eldest sister-in-law were busy taking counsel together over the proper management of the various rites and ceremonies. Nobody seemed to have any time to spare, and those who really did the least went about with the most anxious faces.
But what was I doing all this time? You would laugh, if you knew. I was in my own room, taking out all the pretty saris I had, trying on every one of them to find out which suited me most. I was determined not to own defeat to another woman. At last I decided upon a silk whose colour was that of the clear autumnal sky, and ​it was embroidered all over with golden stars. I let down my hair, which reached down to my ankles and kept it from blowing over my face with a chain of sapphires tied across my brow. I did not put on many jewels as I was quite confident that my beauty needed but few aids. It took me a long time to finish dressing. Then coming out of the room, I mingled with all the girls and young women assembled near the entrance to the inner apartments.
Suddenly the sound of loud music broke upon our ears. The procession must be quite near. What a deafening uproar! The huge procession came on slowly and stopped before the outer gate. The silver palanquin which bore the newly wedded pair entered the inner court. I pushed my way to the front of my companions, as I was determined to have a good look at the bride. My mother advanced to receive the bride. I still see her in my mental vision, as she then appeared. She looked like the veritable queen of Kailasa, Parvatee herself, with the child Lakshmi in her arms. The girl bride was indeed beautiful! Her face seemed to be moulded out of fresh-churned butter, her eyes were those of a startled fawn.
I was gazing at the bride in open-mouthed wonder and had forgotten even to be envious. One of my numerous cousins, named Kamalini, had been standing by me. All of a sudden she remarked aloud, "Well, I admit that the bride's face is beautiful, but as to complexion, she cannot hold a candle to our Vidyut. How grandfather exaggerates!"
Why, so it was! I came back to myself with a jerk. However pretty the face of the bride might be, I stood far superior to her in brilliance of complexion and wealth of hair. I now joined in the festive ceremonies with a tranquil mind. As I bowed down to the new bride, she looked at me with her big eyes full of wonder.
The old people of that district still talk about the ​magnificence of my third brother's wedding. It was truly unsurpassed there. After the great feast in the ancestral house, we started for the riverside villa in great state. A number of bullock carts started with the luggage, for my brother and his friends, elephants were procured, and last of all the ladies came in their closed carriages. A crowd of servants brought up the rear.
It was already dark when we reached our destination. We were unable to have any of the good outdoor walks we had planned beforehand, as my mother insisted upon our having supper and retiring early. I and Kamalini shared one room, my sisters-in-law occupied the adjacent rooms.
Quite early in the next morning I was suddenly roused by a good shake from my second sister-in-law. As I opened my eyes she cried out, "Now dear, do get up? Do you come here to sleep and eat? I heard that the garden had been much added to, many new beds have been planted and many fountains and marble seats have been made. Let us go and have a look at them."
Kamalini, who was already sitting up in her bed, now put in, while rubbing her still sleep-laden eyes: "But do you intend to start in the night? Why not go during the day? The garden won't run away, you know."
My sister-in-law gave me a good tug as she replied, "My dear madam, do you think the men would leave the garden in the daytime for your good pleasure and go and sit out in the fields? Not if I know them. If you want to see the garden you must come now, while they are still asleep."
Kamalini gave way, and we got up for our walk. It was still chilly, so I wrapped myself in a green shawl and went out.
The garden was a very large one, and in no way resembled the small enclosure heavily laden with flowering ​plants in earthen jars which we used to call a garden in our town house. This garden extended far and wide, and I felt a bit afraid at first when I stepped into it. A wealth of flower appeared on every side, the pearly dewdrops of the early dawn still fresh upon them. As we passed under the avenue of trees our hairs, faces and mantles became profusely sprinkled as from the wet skirts of the wood nymphs, who had just left their baths. We had not advanced far when Kamalini suddenly threw herself down upon a bank of green grass by the side of a fountain of coloured water and said in a decided manner, "I cannot walk any more, you may go on, but I shall return to the house after I have rested a bit."
Our pleadings were in vain, so we two left her and moved on.
A small hillock of jet-black stones stood nearby. It was covered all over with flowering creepers and shrubs, and a tiny stream of sparkling water had sprung out of its heart and was flowing down its side. It had formed into a little rivulet at the base of the hillock and had at last merged itself into a miniature lake, all aglow with a host of red lotuses.
We went and stood by the side of the hillock. My sister-in-law sat down upon a rustic bench which stood close by and said, "Kamalini was right, after all. We should have gone back with her. My feet are aching all over and I am very tired. But look there, sister, what glorious lotuses! Of all flowers I think they are the most beautiful."
I had run into the habit of expressing an opinion upon every earthly subject, so I at once put in, "Whatever you may say, sister, I think jasmine the most beautiful. The lotus is, of course, superior in outward beauty; but as to sweetness of smell it must give way to jasmine."
"Oh, indeed! so outward beauty is no match for the ​inward one? That is something new from you. Up to now you were the greatest advocate for outward beauty, but now it seems..."
My sister-in-law left off in the middle of a sentence, and looking round at her I saw her veil her face with the end of her sari and rise from her seat as in a hurry. Astonished at her behaviour I turned my eyes to the spot, whence the surprise seemed to have come. Oh dear, someone had been sitting on the other side of the hillock, and now he had risen up at the sound of our voices.
As I was the daughter of the house I was quite unaccustomed to veil myself as my sister-in-law at once did. And to tell the truth, even if I had been, it would never have entered my mind then. The moment which stands as the One Moment of my life was not to be wasted in that manner.
Hither the word beauty had denoted to me but my own beauty, but now I looked at the beauty of another. What a wonderful face it was! To me it seemed to be even more beautiful than the face of the Greek statue which stood in the garden. To you it would be surprising that an ordinary Bengalee youth can possess such beauty. But remember that it was the first time that I looked at a man with the eyes of a woman. The rosy colour of the maiden's own heart lends the man a beauty which no man ever really possessed. So far I had been the petted and spoilt child of a wealthy house, and the men I had looked upon were but my brothers, uncles and other relations, But now had come the first Young Unknown, and as I gazed at him my childhood seemed to drop from me and was lost for ever.
He looked at me with no less wonder than I suppose I did. I thought of it later on, but not then. It was but for a moment that we looked at each other. An almost imperceptible pressure of the hand from my sister-in law ​made me recover myself, and I turned away with a start. He too, at the same moment, vanished behind the dark deodar avenue. Just then the eastern sky heralded the approach of the sun with its rosy blush. There was also another sunrise—in the sky of my young life, and I returned home steeped in the glory of its wonderful effulgence.
Entering my room, I went and stood before the mirror, almost unconscious of what I was doing. Vague and indistinct thoughts kept rushing into my mind, but I was unable to put them into shape. Suddenly a voice cried from behind me, "My dear girl, you need not study your appearance so anxiously. It was stunning enough for that poor fellow. He is sure to fall down in a swoon after he reaches his room."
With a start I drew back from the mirror. Was it really for that purpose, which my sister-in-law so clearly defined, that I had been standing before it? I could not wholly deny it.
The great rejoicings and festivities of our house were unable to claim my attention. I did not fail to notice that Kamalini and my second sister-in-law were having a good laugh at my expense, but in spite of many efforts I was quite unable to compose myself and appear like everyone else. It is certain that none except those two had any attention to spare for my unusual behaviour, and yet I was continually dreading exposure before everybody.
A great feast had been arranged for that evening. The friends of my newly married brother sat down to it with him along a long corridor in front of the kitchen. The elders took themselves off so that the mirth of the young people might be unrestrained. Suddenly they proposed that the new bride must serve some food to them, otherwise they would decline to touch anything. Were the family preceptor and priest alone to have that privilege and were the friends of the bridegroom of no importance ​whatever? My mother and grandmother laughed at their clamour and said, "Very well, let the new bride serve a bit. It is quite proper for a new bride to appear before menfolk."
The bride was brought in. She was glittering all over with jewels and silks. A large silver ladle was handed to her, which she at once dropped in her nervousness. She was all a-tremble. My mother became anxious and said, "It would never do to send her alone before so many people. She will drop down of sheer nervousness. Somebody must go along with her."
But who was to go? All the daughters-in-law of the house drew back, veiling themselves copiously. Kamalini, on being requested, cried out in dismay, "Oh dear, I could not do that for anything!"
Nobody moved. The clamour among the guests became uproarious. My grandmother jestingly said to mother "Why not send me along with the new bride? The two brides of Bimal may very well serve together."
My mother laughed and answered, "That would be the best arrangement, if it only could be done. But we are getting late," Suddenly her eyes fell upon me and she called to me, "Come here, dear, you go with the bride. Take firm hold of her, do not let her fall down."
And take firm hold of yourself too, dear, see that you do not fall down yourself!" whispered Kamalini from behind.
I had been feeling nervous, but I pulled myself together in anger at her sarcasm, and went out with the bride. The young men were seated in a long row, talking and laughing aloud. A sudden silence fell upon them as we appeared. The new bride served with the silver ladle and I moved along with her. My legs were trembling with nervousness, and my face seemed to be on fire. But yet, in the midst of that overwhelming sense of shyness, I could not help ​looking up once. Another person, too, just looked up at that very moment.
My mother signed to us to come back as soon as we had passed along the whole row once.
The joyous festive week went on, but it had very little attention from me. Kamalini and my sister-in-law went on making jokes for a day or two, then they forgot everything about it.
A great musical performance was held on the last day of the week. A famous band of professional singers had been engaged for that purpose. The ladies took their seats behind silken curtains, while the friends of my brother sat down in front of them, so as to keep a bit apart from the older folk.
The ladies went on feeding their babies and taking stock of one another's dresses and ornaments as they listened to the singing. I, too, did not pay undivided attention to the music, but neither to the small talk around me.
A great shout of approval went up as a song came to to an end. My grandfather threw his own shawl on the singer and others followed suit with many rich gifts.
Such unexpected good luck made the man greedy. He turned round to the ladies in an expectant attitude with joined palms. My mother gave me two golden "mohurs" and requested me to throw it out to him. I tied the two coins in my silk handkerchief, so that they might not get lost in the crowd, and putting out my hand from behind the curtains I threw it out in the direction of the singer.
But, as good or bad luck would have it, the handkerchief, instead of falling before the singer, fell down among that crowd of young men, who had been sitting in front of us. One of them picked it up, and untying the coins ​presented it to the singer. But somehow the handkerchief remained in his own hands. Need I tell you who it was? People grieve over lost property, but the joy I felt at losing that handkerchief still remains unparalleled in my life. How long I had been gazing at that appropriator of other's goods I cannot now tell, I only came back to myself as the singing began again.
The party broke up the next day. The guests and relations departed to their homes, and we too came back to our usual residence.
But one marriage seemed to have reminded the whole family about the urgency of another. Everybody became quite energetic all of a sudden to arrange a good match for me. Professional matchmakers went in and out all the day long. As I had arranged a match for myself, I felt disgusted at their presence. I did not know anything about that secret bridegroom of mine, who he was, where he lived or what he lived or what he did, but somehow a a conviction had sprung up in my heart that to him and to none but him would I be given in marriage. My knowledge amounted to this alone, that his name was Manindra, and this much too I had to wrest from Kamalini at the expense of a whole day's teasing.
One evening I was seated before the window of my room and a single star was shining above the large neem tree which stood in front. Suddenly my sister-in-law rushed laughing into the room and cried out, "I have brought a piece of great good news. What are you going to give me as a reward? You need not remain staring at the skies any longer, a time is coming when the earth will have sufficient attraction for you."
I understood quite well what she meant, but as she was many years my senior I did not give any answer to her repartee, and she went off laughing. A feeling of mingled ​joy and fear arose in my heart, causing a tremor in my whole body.
A scene of immense bustle and noise began once more. Jewellers, goldsmiths, carpenters and clothes merchants poured into our house from all quarters. Mother one day remarked while talking to the ladies of the house, "This is my only daughter. I will send her to her father-in-law's house with such a trousseau that the mother-in-law, however clever she be, would have a hard job of it trying to find out defects."
Day after day passed on and the auspicious day approached. Did not I have any fear or doubt? To whom was I going to trust myself? But as the first streak of light in the sky dispels a world of darkness, so a a few words which came to my ears from the next room drove away all my doubts and fears. An aunt of mine was talking to my mother. Suddenly she asked, "But, sister have they seen the bride?" My mother laughed and said, "No sister, we won't have to show the bride formally. The bridegroom himself has seen her and chosen her while he was here as a guest in the wedding party of Bimal." Need I tell you any more why my mind was free from any doubts?
A silk merchant came to our house to take orders for my wedding dress. My mother called all my sisters-in-law to talk over things with, "We are old-fashioned folks, our tastes might not suit young people." The young ladies gathered round the man in great enthusiasm. I too was hauled along by them to be a member of their committee. After a great deal of talking my eldest sister-in-law decided upon a deep crimson silk, covered all over with gold embroidery which flashed as streaks of lightning. It was especially to their liking as it matched my name. I too liked the thing immensely, and, escaping to my room, sat down hugging the thought to my bosom that the ​grievance I had of appearing in an ordinary dress before a certain person was likely to be soon remedied.
On the day of the "maiden's feast" in our house a large number of presents arrived from the bridegroom's house. My sister-in-law, while praising their taste and liberality, remarked aside to me, "You are lucky, my dear, your husband's family does not seem to be any poorer than your father's family."
A large number of friends and relations soon arrived and I was scarcely left to myself even for a moment. Then, too, I had to go about every day, as I was constantly being invited by others.
The day arrived at last. A woman never loses the memory of her wedding day however old she might be; neither have I.
From the morning I had been sitting on a seat of sandal wood, which was covered all over with leaves and flowers of alpana. Of that numerous gathering, I alone was silent that day. Now and then one of my sisters-in-law or cousins would peep in, and go off smiling. Nearly all the relations we had in every part of the world had arrived, but fresh ones still poured in. At the sound of approaching footsteps I looked up and saw my mother entering accompanied by an old lady. Mother came near and said, "Vidyut, this is my aunt, bow down to her." I did as I was bid; the old lady blessed me fervently, then turning to my mother, asked her, "The bride is truly called Vidyut, my dear, but how is the bridegroom? I hope they will be a well-matched pair?" I laughed in my heart. How should that old lady know how supremely handsome the bridegroom was?
My mother answered, "What does outward beauty matter, dear aunt? My son-in-law Prasanna is not much ​to look at, but I tell you my daughter is lucky to get such a husband."
Prasanna! And not much to look at! What is this? The daylight suddenly became pitch dark to my eyes and the furniture of the room began to swirl round and round, The old lady shrieked out in alarm. I suppose I must have looked rather strange. My mother threw her arms about me and said, "She has been fasting all the day, she is feeling weak, I think; come along with me, dear, and lie down. you need not sit here any longer." She went away after putting me to bed.
The joyous clamour around me sounded in my ears like the shrieks of the damned. I wished to cry out, but no tears came; instead something heavy as iron settled down upon my heart. It was a drama worth seeing. The flash of lightning was seen, admired by all, but who knew where the thunderbolt struck? Truly, a woman's heart is hard, otherwise how did I bear what I had to bear? A Hindu woman has at times to suffer in silence torments that would beat the records of hell.
It was already evening when a crowd of young girls burst into the room and pulled me up from the bed. The bride must begin her toilette now. They went on dressing and adorning me to their hearts' content while I sat like a statue. After chattering and toiling for nearly two hours they finished their work. My eldest sister-in-law dragged me before a large mirror, and cried out, "Now have a good look, see whether you like your own appearance, never mind about another's likings."
I looked up at my own image, reflected in the mirror. Yes, I was fittingly adorned. I seemed to be wrapped about in flames, and flames too raged in my heart. My dress shone and sparkled as if steeped in liquid fire, my wristlets and necklet of diamond shot sparks of fire. I wished that the fiery borders of my silken cloth would ​truly become a flame and wrap me in its fatal embrace. I moved away from before the mirror.
"Don't fall in love with your own image," mocked Kamalini. Fine indeed was my image! A great pang shot through my heart, as I remembered with what joyous hopes I had looked forward to this bridal toilette.
The bridegroom arrived. Women's rites, the reception of the bridegroom, all danced before my eyes like so many shadowy pictures. At the time of the "Auspicious Look," a large red silken cloth was thrown over our heads. All requested us to look at each other, and impelled by a sudden curiosity I looked up. A dark face was before me and eyes full of entreaty and love looked into mine. I dropped my eyes at once.
The marriage was over at last. We then took our seats in a large room, lighted up with great hanging lamps and chandeliers and crowded to the full with girls and women. Their laughter and jokes knew no bounds. A flood of joyousness seemed to have swept over the assembly. The friends of the bridegroom were waiting outside and constantly sending to ask permission to come in and have a look at their friend's bride. At last they got the required permission. The ladies for the most part drew back with veiled faces behind the giant bedstead, and a few escaped out of the room and peeped through the windows. A large number of young men burst into the room with joyous shouts. They had their fill of jests and jokes, then began slowly to retire one by one, as the wedding supper was about to commence. When nearly all had departed someone suddenly pushed into the room and came and stood before us. I looked up. I felt as if I would drop down from my seat in a swoon and my hands and feet turned cold as ice. Somehow I recovered myself. My third brother came forward and addressing my husband said, "Prasanna, Manindra has come to see you." My husband looked at the visitor with a smile of welcome. ​Manindra came nearer, and taking out of his pocket a parcel wrapped in flimsy blue paper, said, "Friend, I have brought a little present for your wife. I did not put it down with the other presents, as it would be quite lost in that magnificent array." Saying this he took off the wrapping, and taking out a chain of gold put it into my trembling hands. It was a garland of jasmines. Some cunning workman had copied nature very faithfully in gold. My husband answered back laughingly, but I did not hear what he said. I looked up once more. He too spoke his farewell in a long look, then disappeared in the rapidly thinning crowd. The traveller who had first stepped into my young life in the rosy blushing dawn now went out of it for ever in the red glare of festive lamps and through a noisy festal crowd.
The ladies again thronged into the room. Kamalini took the golden chain off my hands and put it round my neck, remarking, "It is certainly of Cuttack workmanship. Our goldsmiths are not up to such work."
It was already midnight when we at last found ourselves alone. My husband tried to make me speak but in vain, and at last laid himself down to sleep. The hanging lamps went out one by one, flickering and spluttering. I sat still on my bed throughout that long night. Sleep refused to come to the aid of my tortured heart.
The next day I left the home of my childhood and stepped out with a stranger for a strange home. The most auspicious and joyous day in a woman's life ended for me in a flood of tears.
A warm welcome was waiting for me in the new home. But I seemed to have become an unfeeling automaton; I moved about as others made me move, and heard without answer the thousand remarks and questions which flew about me. The gladness and joy which I witnessed in others served only to petrify my heart more and more.
​The bustle and noise subsided a little in the evening. Two or three girls of the house then conducted me to my bedroom and kindly left me there to rest. As soon as they were out of the room I tore off my wedding finery and, putting out the single lamp which was burning in a corner, I flung myself down on the bare cold floor of the room.
How long I had been lying there I have no idea, but somebody's sudden entrance into my room made me sit up. It was a young girl of about eighteen, dressed in the white garb of a widow. Her face was beautiful, though she was dark in complexion. Her loose curly hair blew about her face, her eyes looked like veritable springs of sadness. It seemed as if this young maiden had just stepped out of the arms of the goddess of evening with her calm and sad beauty.
She bowed down to me and then sat down by me. She took my hand in hers and said, "I am one of your numerous nieces, my dear aunt. I am named Kalyani. You did not see me till now because I have lost the right to show my face at auspicious events. Your husband sent me to you thinking you must be feeling lonely. But why are you sitting in the dark and on the floor? Please get up and sit on the bed."
The laughter and light all around had been only increasing the burning pain in my heart; the sad face of the girl somewhat comforted me. The tears now came; I wept and wept, and could not restrain myself at all.
Kalyani put her arms about me and began to comfort me. "Don't cry, dear," she said; "the pangs of separation from one's parents are keen indeed, but you will get accustomed to it. Women have to suffer far harder things. I too thought once that I shall not be able to rise up from the earth any more, but, see, I am going about now like everybody else." Then suddenly she stood up and cried, ​"But let such things go. We must not talk about them on this auspicious day. Let me arrange your room. Why have you put out the light?"
Kalyani lighted the lamp again and moved about the room, putting everything in its place. Suddenly she came upon my wedding sari, thrown upon the floor. She picked it up and cried, "Why have you flung it here, dear? Well, I will put it up for you. The old women here say that one must not wear one's wedding dress twice. It is to be kept in a box, and when torn should be thrown into water."
She folded the thing carefully and then, pointing out a box of marble to me, said, "Do you see that box over there, by the side of the big iron safe? I put it there in the morning. It is my present to you. I have got nothing else. That one was given to me by my husband. Will you keep your wedding dress in it? It will then remain apart from your other things."
I assented. Kalyani put the dress there and went out. After a few minutes she re-entered with a few chains of camphor beads in her hand. These she arranged about the rich crimson silk. Suddenly I got up and, snatching that garland of jasmines from my neck, flung it into the box.
"Why do you put it there?" asked Kalyani in astonishment. "It should go into the jewel box; you will have to take it out frequently."
"No," I said, "let it remain there; I will never take it out again. When I fling the wedding dress into water, this, too, shall accompany the dress."
Kalyani looked at me for a minute with her wonderful eyes, then said "Very well, let it remain there."
III.
"Rangadi!"
Young Vidyut, with her slender, graceful figure and ​wristlets and necklet of diamond, vanished into air. Oh dear, it was already dark, and the lamps have not yet been lighted. I have been dreaming with my eyes open. I have forgotten too about the children's supper. Ranu, too, has come back from her friend's house.
I got up from the floor and asked with a smile, "Now, darling, how many persons lost their senses over the entrancing beauty of Lakshmi?"
"There, now, Rangadi, you have begun again. Who is to faint at my sight, pray? I don't think there is anyone idiotic enough for that. Now, take back your sari; I have folded it so carefully that not the faintest sign appears of its having been worn. Let us go and put it back in that box."
We went and stood before the box. "See here, Rangadi," cried Ranu, while putting back the sari, "the smell of camphor has nearly disappeared. It was but a little while ago that we opened the box. How fast it went! The camphor beads have gone long ago, the fragrance, too, now follows in their wake, but see, the box of marble is still the same."
"My darling," I answered, "fragrance stays with us only for a brief while, then it becomes one with the air. But the stone knows no change, it remains for ever."
* ↑ Goddess of Health and Beauty.
* ↑ Ceremonial drawings on auspicious occasions, on the floor, wooden seats, etc.