# Stories of Bengalee Life/The Fulfilment of a Vow/Chapter 1

THE FULFILMENT OF A VOW
I
BHABATOSH was studying English at the College, it was true, but he did so much against his inclination. He had no belief in English education. In his opinion the study of English had been the ruin of the country. The Hindu sentiment was gradually disappearing, evil habits increasing and there was no means of reviving the happy days of old. Such was the constant complaint of Bhabatosh. His people obliged him to study English, else he would have preferred to attend a Sanskrit School at Navadwip or elsewhere. Still, even if he must study English, none the less was he able to pursue his own ideas in thought and in practice.
Bhabatosh, living in a Calcutta hostel or "mess-house" was pursuing his studies, when suddenly he awoke to the fact that the Durga Puja holidays were at hand. So he bought new apparel for the home, packed his box and set out for his village, which was at no great distance from the city.
​The Puja was over, the day of full moon had come. At dawn the mother of Bhabatosh, a widow, went to bathe in the Ganges. The ghat lay a little distance from the village. A number of women from the adjoining villages thronged its steps that morning. The mother of Bhabatosh, as she came up from the stream, saw an old friend of her girlhood, the wife of Upendra Babu.
Greeting each other, the friends exchanged the usual enquiries, and then Upendra Babu's wife asked—"Is Bhabatosh at home?"
"He came, but his holiday is over and he will be returning to Calcutta."
Upendra Babu had a pretty little daughter, thirteen years old, named Pulina. She was unmarried.
Upendra Babu's wife said—"Sister, would it not be well if my Pulina and your Bhabatosh were to marry?"
The widow answered—"That has been my wish also this long time, sister;—but my son does not wish to marry. What can I do? How often have I tried to arrange a marriage for him and it has always fallen through."
"Well, try once more. Your son is grown, and if he marries you will have much happiness. Why won't he marry?"
​"I will see. If he agrees, the wedding can take place in February."
When the widow reached her home Bhabatosh was sitting in his room reading a newspaper. His mother said—"Come to the inner apartments, I want to speak to you."
Laying aside the paper Bhabatosh very slowly followed his mother. Taking him to her own room the mother said—"Son, I have arranged a marriage for you. You are my eldest son. I have long wished for a daughter-in-law. Fulfil my desire."
As I have intimated, Bhabatosh was extremely averse to marriage—not though for the reasons an Englishman would have had. Not because it was unsuitable to marry while still a student, or because his means were insufficient. His objection was of another kind and based upon the shastras too. He had heard (and even read in the newspapers) that the brides of the present generation no longer resemble the modest Hindu bride of former days, but are coquettes and fond of dress, that they do not worship their husbands as enjoined by the sacred writings, but are anxious to associate with them on terms of equality. Yet how could the unlucky man oppose his widowed mother's entreaties? He did not desire to incur the sin of neglecting his mother's repeated ​requests. So he had resolved that should she again urge the matter, he would consent, but he would be careful to select a bride according to his own ideal.
That Bhabatosh had independent ideas on this subject was well known to his comrades in the hostel. When the youths gathered nightly on the roof after their evening meal, this was a standing subject of discussion with them as they smoked their cigarettes of various sorts. How often had Bhabatosh said—"When I marry, if I do marry, I will take a dark ugly girl as my wife. The nice-looking girls are all full of vanity. They do not reverence their husband's parents, nor do they look up to the husband himself. Instead of being dutiful wives they are frivolous, besides that they are dressy and full of airs. Considering themselves 'beauties,' they think of nothing but how to set off their charms. They must have European soaps, scent, powder, Parsi saris and chemises, while the poor wretch of a husband must pay the bills. Then, I will not marry an educated girl. They only read novels (some even write them) and play cards, or spend the day writing love poems to their husbands. The house work is neglected, they have no time for their devotions, the children are left screaming on the floor, &c. &c." After listening to talk of this kind, some of the ​lads would say—"Very good Bhabatosh Babu! When the time comes we shall see how you act. Many talk in this way. There is a great difference between speech and action."
Inflamed by these doubts, Bhabatosh would reply—"Yes, you shall see gentlemen, you shall see. With me speech and action are one."
So when his mother repeated her urgings, Bhabatosh, consenting, said—"Very well, mother, I will marry, but I wish to choose my bride."
The mother was delighted. "You wish to see your bride before you take her? Very good. There is a charming, beautiful girl I know of, just thirteen."
Startled, Bhabatosh said—"Is she so beautiful?" "Very."—the mother said.一"Her face is like that of the goddess Durga, the same nose, the same eyes, the same fine brows, with a complexion like a rose."
Bhabatosh said slowly and gravely—"I will not marry such a girl as that, mother."
"Why not?"—exclaimed the mother in astonishment. "What is the matter?"
"I will not marry a beautiful girl."
"Then, what sort of girl will you marry?"
"I will marry a dark ugly girl." Bhabatosh was firm as rock.
​The mother was even more astonished. "Foolish boy! Every one desires a pretty wife; and one is not so easily to be had"—she observed.
"Let them then. I will make a different marriage." As he spoke his face became irradiated by self-glorification. Was he one of the crowd? Should he, like all the rest, marry only from desire?
Seeing his mother a litle dejected, Bhabatosh opened his mind to her. He showed how impossible it was for a beautiful girl to become a model Hindu wife. Finally he said his resolve was firm, unshakable—immovable.
His mother troubled him no more that day. The vacation ending, he returned to Calcutta.