# Eyesore/Chapter 11

XI
The thirsty-hearted Binodini, on her part, would drink in, with the avidity of a drunkard, the daily love-story of the newly-wedded wife. It would mount to her head, and the blood would course madly through her body.
When, in the quiet of midday, the mother would be taking her siesta, and the servants enjoying their off-time, Mahendra, at Vihari's urging, would be temporarily away at his college; and the faint shrill cry of the kite be now and then heard from the furthest edge of the burning sky; Asha would be rolling on the bed on the floor of her room, with her flowing hair spread all over the pillow, while Binodini lying prone beside her, a bolster under her breast, would he absorbed in the hum of her prattle, flushed to the ears, her breath coming short and quick.
Binodini, with repeated questions, would elicit from Asha even the smallest details, would have the same thing over and over again, and, when facts were exhausted, would ask for fancies. "What would you do, my dear, if such and such a thing happened?" she would insist. And Asha also loved to pursue the long-drawn-out vistas, leading to impossible love-scenes, which such questions would open up.
Sometimes Binodini would venture further: "Look here, my Eyesore, how would it have been if you were married to Vihari?"
Asha—"For shame, my dear, don't say that sort of thing. It makes me feel so queer. But wouldn't it have been nice if you had been. There was a talk of it, I know."
Binodini—"There were so many talks about my marriage. It's just as well that none of the others came to anything. I'm very well off as I am."
Asha could not let that pass uncontradicted. How could she admit that Binodini's condition was tolerable compared with her own! "Just think, my Eyesore, what might have happened if you had married my husband. It had almost been settled, d'you remember?"
That was true enough! But why had it not been? This bed of Asha's had one day been waiting for her. Could Binodini ever forget that as she looked round Asha's well-furnished room! She was but a guest here now—she was welcome to-day—she might have to go to-morrow.
In the afternoon Binodini would insist on doing up Asha's hair herself with consummate art, and on supervising her toilet for her husband's home-coming. And Binodini's imagination would veil itself to accompany the gaily-bedecked young bride to the love-tryst with her husband.
Some days Binodini would not let Asha go at all. "Do stay with me a little longer," she would plead; "your husband is not going to run away. He's not the elusive stag of the forest, but the pet deer tied to your skirt." Thus would she chatter to detain Asha!
​Mahendra would resent this and say, "When does your friend intend to go back home? She seems to have become quite a fixture here."
"Oh! don't get angry with her," Asha would excitedly reply. "You don't know how she loves to hear all about you—how eagerly she dresses me up to please you!"
Rajlakshmi would not let Asha do a thing. But Binodini took her part and got her to take her share in the household work. Binodini was untiring and with herself she gave Asha no rest. She so linked together their daily duties that it became difficult for Asha to find any gap in the chain. And the thought of Asha's husband, kicking his heels in his lonely room upstairs, in helpless vexation, would rouse in Binodini's heart a hard and joyless smile.
Asha would now and then have qualms and say: "Let me go now, my Eyesore, He must be getting impatient."
"Oh wait a little," Binodini would hurriedly interpose, "just finish this little bit, it won't take long."
After a while Asha would again get fidgetty and exclaim, "I must go now, dear. He'll be really annoyed. Do let me off."
"What if he does get a little angry?" Binodini would reply. "Love, without a little anger, loses its relish—like curry without the pepper!"
Of the pungency of the pepper Binodini had tasted in full measure—without the curry. Her blood was on fire. Sparks flashed from her eyes. So loving a husband, so happy a home! A home which might have been her kingdom, a husband who might have been the slave at her feet! Would then that home and that husband have remained in this miserable condition? And where she might have been queen there was this baby, this doll of a girl!
And with her arms round Asha, she would repeat: "Do tell me, my Eyesore, what happened! Did you tell him what I told you to? To hear of your love-making is more than food and drink to me."