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Peace
Late Devenath was among my dearest friends. Even today, when I remember him, a bittersweet nostalgia fills my eyes, and I often find myself retreating to solitude and shedding a few tears. There was a distance of two hundred and fifty miles between us. I was in Lucknow, he in Delhi; yet, hardly a month would pass without us meeting. He was a man of simple nature, jovial, compassionate, generous, and devoted to his friends, never differentiating between kin and stranger. He never seemed to understand the complexities of the world and its worldly dealings. His life presented numerous occasions when he should have been more cautious.
Friends took unfair advantage of his guilelessness, often causing him embarrassment; yet, this kind man seemed to have sworn off learning any lessons from life. His conduct remained unchanged – ‘as Bholanath lived, so Bholanath died.’ The world he inhabited was a unique one, with no place for suspicion, cunning, or deceit – everyone was family, no one a stranger. I repeatedly tried to warn him, but the outcome was contrary to my expectations. I sometimes worried about the consequences if he didn't change, but ironically, his wife, Gopa, was cast from the same mold. She lacked the shrewdness that often acts as a check on the carelessness of such carefree men, a common trait among our women. She even showed little interest in jewelry or finery. Therefore, when I received news of Devenath's passing and rushed to Delhi, I found nothing in the house but utensils, furniture, and the building itself. And what was his age? Not even forty, an age when one typically worries about savings.
He had always possessed a youthful spirit, but at this age, most people are somewhat carefree. First, a daughter was born, followed by two sons. Both sons passed away in childhood. Only the daughter remained, and this was the most tragic scene of this drama. Considering their lifestyle, this small family needed two hundred rupees a month. The daughter's marriage would also need to be arranged in two or three years. How it would all be managed, I couldn't fathom.
On this occasion, I had the valuable experience of witnessing that those who are selfless and don't make self-gain the goal of life, are never left without support for their families. This isn't a rule, as I have also seen people who treated many kindly in life, yet after their death, no one even inquired about their children. But whatever may be the case, Devenath's friends acted with commendable generosity and proposed setting up a permanent fund for Gopa's upkeep. One or two gentlemen, who were widowers, were willing to marry her, but Gopa showed the same self-respect, the hallmark of our women, and refused the proposal. The house was quite large; a portion was rented out, earning fifty rupees monthly. This was sufficient for her sustenance. Whatever expenses were incurred were for Sunita. For Gopa, there was no longer any attachment to life.
A month later, I had to travel abroad for business, and my stay extended to two years – far longer than anticipated. Gopa's letters arrived regularly, indicating that she was comfortable and had no worries. Later, I learned that Gopa had considered me an outsider and had concealed the real situation.
Returning from abroad, I went straight to Delhi. Upon reaching the door, I felt like crying. A sense of death hung in the air. The door to the room where friends used to gather was shut, cobwebs spun everywhere. With Devenath, that vibrancy had vanished. At first glance, I had the illusion that Devenath was standing at the door, looking at me and smiling. I am not delusional, and I doubt the corporeality of the soul, but at that moment, I did startle. A tremor ran through my heart, but at the second glance, the image had disappeared.
The door opened. Who else but Gopa could have opened it? Seeing her, my heart sank. She knew of my arrival and had put on a new sari, perhaps even braided her hair, in anticipation of my welcome; but what could she do about the ravages of these two years? This is the stage in a woman's life when beauty reaches its full bloom, when the playfulness and arrogance of youth give way to charm, sweetness, and sophistication; but Gopa's youth was gone. Wrinkles and lines of sorrow were etched on her face, which even her strained cheerfulness couldn't erase. Her hair showed streaks of gray, and each limb seemed aged.
In a sorrowful voice, I asked, "Were you ill, Gopa?"
Gopa, swallowing her tears, said, "No, I haven't even had a headache." "Then what is this condition? You've become quite old."
"What's the use of youth? I'm over thirty-five!"
"Thirty-five isn't very old."
"Yes, for those who want to live a long time. I wish my life could end as soon as possible. It's only Sunita's marriage I'm worried about. Once that's done, I won't care about life."
Now I understood that the tenants who had moved into this house left after a short while, and since then, no one else had come. A spear pierced my heart. How these poor people had managed all this time was a heartbreaking thought.
With a dejected heart, I said, "But why didn't you inform me? Am I such a stranger?"
Gopa said apologetically, "No, no, that's not true. If I were to consider you a stranger, whom would I consider my own? I thought you'd be busy with your own affairs abroad, why should I bother you? Somehow, the days passed. We had some jewelry at home. Now, there's the worry of Sunita's marriage. Initially, I thought of selling this house; I'd get twenty-two thousand. The marriage would be taken care of, and I'd have some left for myself; but later I learned that the house was already mortgaged, and with interest, the debt amounted to twenty thousand. The moneylender showed so much mercy that he didn't evict us. There's no hope from that side now. With a lot of pleading, maybe I can get two or three thousand from the moneylender. What will that do? I'm consumed by this worry. But I'm so selfish, I didn't even offer you water to wash your hands and face, or any refreshments, and started complaining. Now, please freshen up and sit comfortably. Shall I bring something to eat? Have some food, then we can talk. Is everyone well at home?"
I said, "I've come straight from Bombay. Where's home?"
Gopa looked at me with eyes full of reproach, yet behind that reproach, deep affection was peeking through. It seemed to me that the wrinkles on her face had vanished. A faint blush rose on her cheeks. She said, "The result will be that your Goddess will never let you come here again."
"I am no one's slave."
"To make someone your slave, you must first become their slave yourself."
As dusk settled, Sunita lit the lamp. She came into the room with a kerosene lantern. The innocent and frail child of two years ago had transformed into a beautiful young woman, every glance and word revealing her dignified nature. The girl I used to cuddle lovingly, I couldn't even look at her now, and she, who used to happily cling to my neck, couldn't even stand in front of me. As if she wanted to hide something from me, and as if I was giving her the opportunity to do so.
I asked, "What class are you in now, Sunita?"
With her head bowed, she replied, "Tenth."
"Do you also help with the household chores?"
"Only when Amma allows me to."
Gopa said, "I don't let her, or she simply doesn't do anything herself?"
Sunita turned away, laughing, and went. She was her mother's darling. On the day she did household work, Gopa would probably cry her eyes out. She herself wouldn't let the girl do any work, yet would complain to everyone that she didn't do anything. This complaint, too, was a miracle of her love. Our dignity lives on even after us.
After I ate and lay down, Gopa again broached the topic of Sunita's wedding preparations. What else did she have to talk about? There were many suitors, but they needed some status. Why should the girl be allowed to think that, with a grandfather, a better match could perhaps be found for her? Then, hesitantly, Gopa mentioned Lala Madanilal's son.
I looked at her in surprise. Madanilal was formerly an engineer, now receiving a pension. He had accumulated lakhs of rupees, yet his greed remained insatiable. Gopa had also chosen a house where cooking was difficult.
I objected, "Madanilal is a wicked man."
Gopa said, biting her lip, "Oh no, brother, you wouldn't know him. He's very kind to me. He sometimes comes to inquire about our well-being. The boy is so promising, what can I say? And what is lacking in their family? It's true he used to take a lot of bribes; but who here is truly virtuous? Who, when given the opportunity, lets it go? Madanilal has even said that he doesn't want a dowry, only the girl. Sunita is fond of him."
I felt pity for Gopa's simplicity, but I thought why should I instill distrust in her mind towards anyone? Perhaps Madanilal may have changed; human emotions change.
I said, half-agreeing, "But think, how different they are. Perhaps even by sacrificing everything, you might not be able to win their favor." But Gopa's mind was made up. She wanted Sunita to live like a queen.
The next morning, I went to see Madanilal, and our conversation left me amazed. He might have been greedy once, but now I found him very kind, generous, and humble. He said, "Brother, I knew Devenath. He was a gem of a person. It is my good fortune that his daughter will come to my home. Tell her mother that Madanilal desires nothing from her. God has given me everything, I don't want to burden her."
Gopa spent four months in wedding preparations. I would visit her once a month, but always returned disheartened. Gopa had set an incredibly high ideal of her family's dignity before herself. She was under the delusion that her zeal would leave a lasting impression in the town. She didn't know that such spectacles occur daily and are forgotten the next day. Perhaps she wanted to take this credit from the world – that even in this ruined state, a lost elephant is worth nine lakhs. Everywhere, she was reminded of Devenath. If he were alive, this wouldn't have happened, this would have happened, and then she would cry.
Madanilal is a good man, it's true, but Gopa also has some duty towards her daughter. Who knows how many daughters he has. She would freely express her desires! Seeing the jewelry and clothes she had made for Sunita amazed me. She was constantly busy, sometimes sitting at the jeweler's shop, sometimes arranging for the hospitality of guests. There would hardly be a wealthy person in the neighborhood from whom she hadn't borrowed something. She considered it a loan, but those who gave considered it charity. The whole neighborhood helped her. Sunita was now the girl of the neighborhood. Gopa's honor was everyone's honor, and for Gopa, sleep and rest were forbidden. Her head ached with pain, midnight had passed, yet she was sitting, doing something or other, or arranging the decorations for the house. It was an aspiration filled with so much affection, which inspired reverence in those who saw it.
A lone woman, and that too half-alive. What could she do? Whatever work she delegated to others, there would be some deficiency, but she had the courage to never give up.
Seeing her condition last time, I couldn't bear it. I said, "Gopa Devi, if you want to die, do so after the wedding. I fear you might pass away before that."
Gopa's withered face brightened. She said, "Don't worry, brother, a widow's life is very long. Haven't you heard, 'A widow doesn't die, nor does a ruin collapse.' But my wish is that after settling Sunita, I too will depart. What more is there to live for? What can I do? If any obstacle arises, whose reputation will be tarnished? In these four months, I've barely slept an hour. I don't even get sleep, but my mind is at peace. Whether I live or die, I'll have the satisfaction that I did everything for Sunita that her father could have. Madanilal showed his kindness, so I too have to maintain my dignity."
A servant girl came and said, "Sister, please come and check if the syrup is right."
Gopa went to check the syrup and came back saying, "I want to bang my head against the wall. I started talking to you, and the syrup became so thick that the laddoos will break the teeth. What can I say to anyone?"
I said irritably, "You're making unnecessary fuss. Why don't you hire a confectioner? How many guests will you have for whom you're making all this? Ten or five laddoos would be enough for them."
Gopa looked at me with anguished eyes. My criticism hurt her. These days, she got angry easily. She said, "Brother, you wouldn't understand. You haven't had the opportunity to become a mother, or a wife. Don't you know how much respect Sunita's father had, how many people lived because of him? That turban is tied on my head. You won't believe, being an atheist, but I always feel him within me. Whatever I am doing, I am doing it. A simple woman like me, what can I do alone? He is my support, he is my light. Understand this, this body is mine, but the soul inside is his. Whatever is happening is happening with his blessings. You are his friend. You spent hundreds of rupees and are so worried. I am his companion, in this world and the next."
I was speechless.
The wedding took place in June. Gopa gave a lot, much more than she could afford, but still, she wasn't satisfied. Today, if Sunita's father were alive, who knows what he would have done. She kept crying.
In winter, I went to Delhi again. I thought Gopa would be happy now. The daughter's home and husband were both ideal. What else did Gopa need? But happiness wasn't in her destiny.
I hadn't even changed my clothes when she started complaining, "Brother, the house is good, the in-laws are good, but the son-in-law turned out to be worthless. Poor Sunita is crying her days away. If you see her, you won't recognize her. She's just a shadow of herself. She came a few days ago, seeing her condition broke my heart. As if she has lost her way in life. She doesn't care about her health or clothes. I never imagined that my Sunita would suffer like this. She's become completely despondent. I asked her so much, 'Daughter, why doesn't he talk to you? What are you angry about?' but she doesn't answer. Just tears flow from her eyes, my Sunita has fallen into a well."
I said, "Didn't you find out from her in-laws?"
"Why not, brother? I know the whole story. The boy wants Sunita to do whatever he wants. Why should Sunita bear this? You know her, how proud she is. She's not one of those women who consider their husband a god and tolerate his mistreatment. She has always received affection and love. Even her father would give his life for her. I considered her the apple of my eye. She got a husband who roams around till midnight. Who knows what happened between them, but some rift has developed. Neither he cares for Sunita, nor does Sunita care for him, but he's engrossed in his own world, Sunita is giving her life. For him, instead of Sunita, there's someone else, Sunita has only expectation and weeping."
I said, "But you didn't counsel Sunita. What harm would it do to that boy? Her life will be ruined."
Tears welled up in Gopa's eyes. She said, "Brother, how can I counsel her? Seeing Sunita, my heart breaks. I just wish I could keep her in my heart, so no one can even look at her with a harsh eye. If Sunita were rude, harsh-tongued, self-centered, I'd understand. Should I tell her that your husband is roaming around defaming you, yet you should still worship him? I myself cannot tolerate this insult. The first condition of marriage is that both should be completely one. There are few men who can remain calm seeing their wife even slightly disturbed, but there are many women who consider their husband their master. Sunita is not one of them. If she surrenders herself, she wants complete surrender, and if this is not in the husband, she won't have any relationship, even if she spends her whole life crying."
Saying this, Gopa went inside and brought a jewelry box, showing the ornaments inside. She said, "Sunita left this here. That's why she came. These are the ornaments I made with so much difficulty. I wandered around for months to make them. You could say I collected them by begging. Sunita doesn't even look at them now! Who will she wear them for? Who will she adorn herself for? I gave her five trunks of clothes. My eyes strained sewing those clothes. She brought these things. She has developed a hatred for these things. Just two bangles on her wrist and a white sari; that's her adornment."
I consoled Gopa, "I will go and meet Kedarnath. Let me see what kind of man he is."
Gopa clasped her hands and said, "No, brother, don't even think of it; Sunita will hear about it and may end her life. Consider her a statue of pride. Consider her a rope, which doesn't break even when burnt. She will never touch the feet that rejected her. Anyone who wants to possess her can make her a servant, but she didn't tolerate my rule, so how will she tolerate someone else's?"
I didn't say anything to Gopa at that time, but as soon as I got an opportunity, I met Lala Madanilal. I wanted to find out the mystery. By chance, father and son both met at the same place. Seeing me, Kedarnath bowed down and touched my feet in such a way that I was charmed by his politeness. He immediately went inside and brought tea, jam, and sweets. I have never seen such a gentle, kind, and humble young man. There couldn't have been any difference between his inner and outer self. As long as he was there, he remained seated with his head bowed. Frivolity hadn't even touched him.
When Kedarnath went to play tennis, I said to Madanilal, "Kedarnath seems to be very virtuous, then why is there so much discord between husband and wife?"
Madanilal, after a moment's thought, said, "What else can I say but that both are their parents' darlings, and love makes children self-willed. My whole life was spent in struggle. Now, I've finally found some peace. I never had the opportunity for pleasure. I toiled all day, and slept at dusk. My health wasn't good either, so I constantly worried about saving. I didn't want my children to beg after my death. The result was that this gentleman got free money. A whim took over him. He started drinking. Then, he developed a fondness for acting. There was no shortage of money, and his parents were his only child. Their happiness was our heaven. Forget about studying, his desire for pleasure increased. He indulged more deeply, he started playing his life's drama. When I saw this behavior, I worried. I thought, I'll get him married, he'll be alright. When Gopa Devi's message came, I immediately accepted. I had seen Sunita. I thought that having such a beautiful wife would stabilize him, but she too was a pampered girl – stubborn, innocent, idealistic. She hadn't learned tolerance. She didn't know the value of compromise in life. Iron clashed with iron. She wants to win through defiance or neglect, that's the mystery. And sir, I consider the daughter-in-law more at fault. Boys are mostly mischievous. Girls are naturally virtuous and understand their responsibilities. She doesn't have these qualities. How the boat will cross, only God knows."
Suddenly, Sunita came from inside. Just like the lines of her portrait, as if the echo of enchanting music. The gold had been refined and turned to ash. There could be no better picture of lost hopes. She said reproachfully, "You've been sitting for so long, I didn't even know, and perhaps you would have left without telling me?"
I, stopping my tears, said, "No, Sunita, how could that be? I was just coming to you when you yourself came."
Madanilal went outside to clean his car. Perhaps he wanted to give me an opportunity to talk to Sunita.
Sunita asked, "Is Amma well?"
"Yes, she's well. What have you made of yourself?"
"I am well."
"What is this? What is this discord between you? Gopa Devi is heartbroken. You're preparing to die yourself. Think rationally."
Sunita frowned, "Uncle, you've unnecessarily raised this topic! I've convinced myself that I'm unfortunate. Its solution is beyond my capacity. I consider death better than a life where I'm not valued. I want penance in return for penance. I don't see any other form of life. Compromise is impossible for me. I don't care about the consequences."
"But..."
"No, uncle, don't say anything more on this, otherwise I'll leave."
"But think..."
"I've thought and decided. It's beyond my power to make a beast a human. "
After that, what was left for me but to shut my mouth?
It was May. I was in Mansoor when a telegram arrived from Gopa: Come immediately, urgent work. I panicked but was sure that no accident had happened. The next day, I reached Delhi. Gopa stood before me, impassive, silent, lifeless, like a tuberculosis patient.
"Are you well? I panicked."
She looked at me with dull eyes and said, "The truth."
"Is Sunita well?"
"Yes, she is well."
"And Kedarnath?"
"He is also well."
"Then what's the matter?"
"Nothing."
"You sent a telegram and say nothing."
"My heart was racing, so I called you. Sunita needs to be persuaded to come here. I've tried everything and failed."
"Has something new happened?"
"It's not new, but in a way, it is. Kedarnath has eloped with an actress. There's been no news of him for a week. He told Sunita – I won't come home as long as you are there. The whole house is becoming Sunita's enemy, but she refuses to leave. It's heard that Kedarnath took several thousand rupees from the bank using his father's signature."
"Did you meet Sunita?"
"Yes, I've been going for three days."
"If she doesn't want to come, why don't you let her be?"
"She'll die there, suffocating."
"I went to Lala Madanilal's house. Although I knew that Sunita would not come, but when I reached there, I saw chaos. My heart sank. A funeral pyre was being prepared. Hundreds of people from the neighborhood were gathered. The sound of 'Alas! Alas!' came from the house. It was Sunita's body.
Madanilal, seeing me, clung to me frantically and said:
"Brother, I'm ruined. My son is gone, my daughter-in-law is gone, my life is ruined."
It turned out that since Kedarnath had disappeared, Sunita had become even more depressed. She had broken her bangles and wiped off the vermilion from her parting that very day. When her mother-in-law objected, she abused her. When Madanilal tried to reason with her, she scolded him. It was assumed – she had gone mad. People stopped talking to her. This morning, she went to bathe in the Yamuna. It was dark, the whole house was asleep, she didn't wake anyone. When day broke and the daughter-in-law wasn't found, people started searching for her. In the afternoon, it was discovered that she had gone to the Yamuna. People ran there. Her body was found. The police came, an autopsy was performed. Now the body has been found. I sat down, holding my heart. Alas, just a few days ago, the beautiful girl arrived in a palanquin, today she is going on the shoulders of four men!
I joined the funeral procession and returned, it was ten o'clock at night. My legs were trembling. I didn't know what Gopa's condition would be after hearing this news. I feared she might die. Sunita was her life. She was the center of her life. This was the only plant left in her garden of sorrow. She nurtured it with her heart's blood. Her golden dream of spring was her life. New leaves would sprout, flowers would bloom, fruits would ripen, birds would sit on her branch and sing their sweet songs, but today, cruel fate uprooted that thread of life and threw it away. And now she had no basis for life. The point on which all the lines of life converged had vanished.
Holding my heart with both hands, I knocked on the door. Gopa came out with a lantern. I saw a glimpse of new peace on Gopa's face.
Seeing my mournful expression, she held my hand with motherly affection and said, "Today, you must have spent the whole day crying; many people must have been with the funeral procession. I too felt like going to see Sunita one last time. But I thought, when Sunita is no more, what is there to see in her corpse! So I didn't go."
I stared at Gopa's face in amazement. She has received this tragic news. Yet, she is peaceful and unwavering! I said, "Good, you didn't go. You would have cried."
"Yes, and what? I cried here too, but I honestly tell you, not from my heart. I don't know how the tears came out. I felt happy about Sunita's death. The unfortunate girl departed from this world with her honor intact, otherwise who knows what she would have had to face. That's why I'm even happier that she maintained her honor. If a woman doesn't get love in her life, it's better for her to end it. Did you see Sunita's expression? People say, it seemed as if she was smiling. My Sunita was truly a goddess. Brother, why would a person want to live just to cry? When it is known that there is nothing but sorrow in life, what is the point of living? Why live? To eat, sleep, and die? I don't want to be reminded of Sunita and cry over her. But those won't be tears of sorrow. A brave mother rejoices at her brave son's death. What is there less glorious in Sunita's death? How can I disrespect that glory by shedding tears? She knows, and even if the whole world criticizes her, her mother will only praise her. Should I deprive her soul of even this joy? But it's getting late now. Go upstairs and sleep. I've made your bed, but look, don't cry alone. Sunita did what she should have done. If her father were alive, today they would have made a statue of Sunita and worshipped it."
When I went upstairs and lay down, the burden on my heart had lightened considerably, but every now and then the doubt arose – was this peace of Gopa's merely a manifestation of her immense suffering?
So, this was an inspiring story by the great writer Munshi Premchand. This story teaches us many new things. The entire subkuz team constantly strives to provide our visitors with inspiring stories daily. Keep reading such inspiring and informative stories on subkuz.com.
