# Stories of Bengalee Life/The Lady from Benares/Chapter 1

THE LADY FROM BENARES
I
BABU Girindra Nath, the Head Goods Clerk of Dinapur Railway Station, lived in a small thatched cottage away in the bazaar. After entering upon service he led rather a wild bachelor life for about ten years. But now he was quite another man, having recently taken unto him a wife.
Mrs. Girindra was not quite a child as Hindoo brides generally are—he saw to that. Her name was Maloti. Her complexion was rather dark,—but there was a tenderness about her that made her sweet though she could lay no claims to beauty. Young as she was, she had to keep house for her husband. She had no mother-in-law, no sister-in-law to look after her, poor child! When her husband was away at work, she had no one in the house to talk to, no one except Bhojooa's mother who spoke no Bengalee. This person was there in the capacity of a domestic servant. She had to be paid a rupee extra per month because it was stipulated that she should stay in the house all day long—looking after her young mistress.
​It was a winter afternoon—past three o'clock. The sun had declined towards the western horizon. Maloti, coming out of her bedroom, stood in the verandah. Bhojooa's mother, according to her custom, was lying down in a corner wrapped up in blankets and snoring away. Maloti felt a little amused as she saw her in this condition. "The amount of sleep she can get through"—muttered Maloti to herself—"is really wonderful."
At this moment a hoarse voice was heard shouting outside—"Babu!—Eji Babu!"
Maloti ran towards the door and peeping through a chink, saw that it was a station porter loaded with baggage. An elderly Bengalee lady with widow's weeds on, stood by his side.
Maloti ran back to the verandah and called out the name of Bhojooah's mother, trying to wake her up. She did it several times, all to no purpose. Then at last she began to shake her violently crying—"A gay Bhojooah kay mayee!" At last the woman did awake, went to the door shivering and let the lady in.
A second later, the stranger stood in the verandah, calmly looking at Maloti. The girl thought she must be a relation of her husband's—but then no one was expected. She remained in a ​state of perplexity and could not decide whether to pronam her or not.
"Is this Girindra Babu's house?"—the newcomer said.
"Yes"—replied Maloti.
"Are you his wife?"
By a shake of her head Maloti indicated that it was so. Then she mustered courage to speak—"Where are you coming from, madam?"
"I am coming from Benares"—the widow sweetly replied. "I was going down home but unfortunately, while in the train, lost my ticket. They stopped me here because I must buy another. They told me that the next train was not due till midnight. Being alone in a strange place, I thought I had much better find out some Bengalee family and beg them to let me pass the time in their house. Would you mind?"
"Oh, not at all.—You are welcome, madam. Pray be seated."
At Maloti's bidding, the servant spread a durry in the verandah for them to sit on.
​"Here Dai, run to the bazaar and buy some refreshments for this lady"—said Maloti, handing a rupee to the maid.
"Oh, don't trouble, thanks"—said the Benares lady. "I have got some fruits here in my bundle. I wouldn't however mind a plate of rice as I took the train early in the morning."
"Oh, certainly. How stupid of me not to have thought that. Dai, light up the kitchen fire, quick."
The Dai returned the rupee to her mistress and went about her work. The two ladies sat on the durry, talking.
"What is your name, dear?"
"Maloti."
"Where is your parental home?"
"Uttarparah."
"Are both your parents alive?"
Maloti, in a tone of embarrassment, replied—"My father died soon after I was born. My mother also died when I was quite a young thing"—saying which Maloti got up to see how the Dai was getting on with the fire. She scolded her for her awkwardness and began to do it herself.
A little while later, Maloti was cooking for her guest and the latter was sitting by her side, talking.
​"How long have you been married?"—asked the lady from Benares.
"In the month of Bysakh."
"Only that! How long have you been here?"
"About two months, I think."
"When does your husband leave for office?"
Maloti blushed at the mention of her husband. "At nine o'clock in the morning"—she replied, her eyes directed towards the floor.
"And when does he come home?"
"At six,—sometimes as late as seven o'clock."