# Eyesore/Chapter 2

II
Three years later the mother and son were having another talk.
"My son, people lay the blame on me."
​"What great calamity have you brought on these people, mother?"
"They say I'm not getting you married for fear the bride should take your heart away from me."
"A very natural fear," said Mahendra. "If I had been a mother I could never have got my son married—I'd rather have welcomed the blame."
"Hear the boy, just listen to him!" laughed the mother.
"The bride is sure to absorb the whole of the son," continued Mahendra, "and to what a distance has the mother, for all her trouble and all her love, to retire—you may like the idea, but I don't."
With a great gladness at heart Rajlakshmi called to her widowed sister-in-law who had only just arrived. "Listen to him, sister, just hear what Mahin is saying. He is afraid to marry lest his bride should oust his mother. Have you ever heard such an extraordinary idea?"
"This is too had, my boy", said his aunt, "everything is fit and proper in its own season. Now it is time to cut your mother's leading strings and set up house with a wife. One feels ashamed to see you still behaving like an overgrown baby."
These words did not sound exactly sweet in Rajlakshmi's ears and the few words of her reply were more plain than pleasant.—"If my son cares for his mother," said she, "more than other people's sons do, why need that make you ashamed, sister? If you had children of your own you would have known better."
Rajlakshmi entertained a suspicion that the childless woman was jealous of her more fortunate sister.
"It was you who started the subject of bringing home a bride," replied her sister-in-law, "else what call had I—"
"If my son does not choose to bring home a bride," Rajlakshmi went on, "why should that be as a dart in your bosom? If I have been able to bring up my son all these years I hope and trust I shall be able to go on looking after him still, without wanting anybody else's help."
The tears came to her sister-in-law's eyes and she went away without another word. Mahendra was pained and, coming back early from his college, went straight to her room. He well knew there was nothing but love for him in what she had said. He also knew that his aunt had an orphan niece, her sister's child, whom the childless widow desired to bring near to herself, and make happy, by marrying to him. Though the idea of marriage was distasteful to him this desire of his aunt seemed to him only natural and extremely pathetic.
There was not much left of daylight when Mahendra entered her room. He found his aunt, Annapurna, with a drawn face, seated with her head resting against the bars of her window. In the next room lay covered her simple meal of rice, long served, as yet untouched.
Mahendra's eyes had a trick of getting moist at the slightest provocation. The sight of his aunt made the tears come. Going near he called affectionately, "Kakie."
With a forced smile Annapurna said, "Come and sit down, Mahin."
"I am fearfully hungry," said Mahendra, "won't you give me some prasad."
Annapurna saw through Mahendra's little stratagem and, keeping down her rising tears with an effort, she took her food and helped Mahendra to some.
Mahendra's heart was then soft with pity. After the meal was over he suddenly in the impulse of the moment blurted out, "Kakie, will you not show me the niece of whom you spoke to me once?"
He had no sooner uttered the words than he was afraid.
"Are your thoughts then turning to marriage?" asked Annapurna with a smile.
"No, no, it's not for myself," Mahendra hurriedly explained. "I have succeeded in persuading Vihari to agree, so please arrange a day for the visit."
"Ah," murmured Annapurna, "can she indeed be so fortunate as to get Vihari for a husband?"
Coming out of his aunt's room Mahendra met his mother near the door. "What were you two talking about?" asked Rajlakshmi.
"There was nothing particular to talk about," said Mahendra. "I only came for some pan."
"Your pan was ready in my room," remarked his mother. Mahendra cut short the subject by walking away.
When Rajlakshmi entered Annapurna's ​room a glance at her tear-swollen eyes led her to conjecture a great dea1. "Well Mistress Aunt," she said with a little snort, "so it seems you have been telling tales to my son," and without waiting for an answer, she swept out of the room.
* ↑ Auntie.
* ↑ Food consecrated or sanctified by being first offered to or partaken of by some venerated person.
* ↑ Spices wrapped up in betel leaf, taken after food, to cleanse the mouth, or occasionally chewed.