<h2><SPAN name="Page_123" title="123"> </SPAN>THE ELDER SISTER</h2>
<h3>I</h3>
<p class="no-indent"> <span class="small-caps">Having</span> described at length the misdeeds of an
unfortunate woman's wicked, tyrannical husband,
Tara, the woman's neighbour in the village, very
shortly declared her verdict: ‘Fire be to such a
husband's mouth.’</p>
<p>At this Joygopal Babu's wife felt much hurt;
it did not become womankind to wish, in any
circumstances whatever, a worse species of fire
than that of a cigar in a husband's mouth.</p>
<p>When, therefore, she mildly disapproved the
verdict, hard-hearted Tara cried with redoubled
vehemence: ‘'Twere better to be a widow seven
births over than the wife of such a husband,’
and saying this she broke up the meeting and
left.</p>
<p>Sasi said within herself: ‘I can't imagine any
offence in a husband that could so harden the
heart against him.’ Even as she turned the matter
<SPAN name="Page_124" title="124"> </SPAN>
over in her mind, all the tenderness of her loving
soul gushed forth towards her own husband now
abroad. Throwing herself with outstretched arms
on that part of the bed whereon her husband
was wont to lie, she kissed the empty pillow,
caught the smell of her husband's head, and, shutting
the door, brought out from a wooden box an
old and almost faded photograph with some letters
in his handwriting, and sat gazing upon them.
Thus she passed the hushed noontide alone in
her room, musing of old memories and shedding
tears of sadness.</p>
<p>It was no new yoke this between Sasikala and
Joygopal. They had been married at an early
age and had children. Their long companionship
had made the days go by in an easy, commonplace
sort of way. On neither side had there been any
symptoms of excessive passion. They had lived
together nearly sixteen years without a break,
when her husband was suddenly called away from
home on business, and then a great impulse of
love awoke in Sasi's soul. As separation strained
the tie, love's knot grew tighter, and the passion,
whose existence Sasi had not felt, now made her
throb with pain.</p>
<p>So it happened that after so many long years,
<SPAN name="Page_125" title="125"> </SPAN>
and at such an age, and being the mother of
children, Sasi, on this spring noon, in her lonely
chamber, lying on the bed of separation, began to
dream the sweet dream of a bride in her budding
youth. That love of which hitherto she had been
unconscious suddenly aroused her with its murmuring
music. She wandered a long way up the stream,
and saw many a golden mansion and many a grove
on either bank; but no foothold could she find now
amid the vanished hopes of happiness. She began
to say to herself that, when next she met her
husband, life should not be insipid nor should the
spring come in vain. How very often, in idle
disputation or some petty quarrel, had she teased
her husband! With all the singleness of a penitent
heart she vowed that she would never show
impatience again, never oppose her husband's
wishes, bear all his commands, and with a tender
heart submit to whatever he wished of good or
ill; for the husband was all-in-all, the husband
was the dearest object of love, the husband was
divine.</p>
<p>Sasikala was the only and much-petted daughter
of her parents. For this reason, though he had
only a small property of his own, Joygopal had
no anxieties about the future. His father-in-law
<SPAN name="Page_126" title="126"> </SPAN>
had enough to support them in a village with
royal state.</p>
<p>And then in his old age a son was born untimely
to Sasikala's father. To tell the truth,
Sasi was very sore in her mind at this unlooked-for,
improper, and unjust action of her parents;
nor was Joygopal particularly pleased.</p>
<p>The parents' love centred in this son of their
advanced years, and when the newly arrived,
diminutive, sleepy brother-in-law seized with his
two weak tiny fists all the hopes and expectations
of Joygopal, Joygopal found a place in a tea-garden
in Assam.</p>
<p>His friends urged him to look for employment
hard-by, but whether out of a general feeling of
resentment, or knowing the chances of rapid rise in
a tea-garden, Joygopal would not pay heed to anybody.
He sent his wife and children to his father-in-law's,
and left for Assam. It was the first separation
between husband and wife in their married life.</p>
<p>This incident made Sasikala very angry with
her baby brother. The soreness which may not
pass the lips is felt the more keenly within.
When the little fellow sucked and slept at his
ease, his big sister found a hundred reasons, such
as the rice is cold, the boys are too late for school,
<SPAN name="Page_127" title="127"> </SPAN>
to worry herself and others, day and night, with
her petulant humours.</p>
<p>But in a short time the child's mother died.
Before her death, she committed her infant son to
her daughter's care.</p>
<p>Then did the motherless child easily conquer
his sister's heart. With loud whoops he would
fling himself upon her, and with right good-will
try to get her mouth, nose, eyes within his own
tiny mouth; he would seize her hair within his
little fists and refuse to give it up; awaking before
the dawn, he would roll over to her side and thrill
her with his soft touch, and babble like a noisy
brook; later on, he would call her <i>jiji</i> and <i>jijima</i>,
and in hours of work and rest, by doing forbidden
things, eating forbidden food, going to forbidden
places, would set up a regular tyranny over her;
then Sasi could resist no longer. She surrendered
herself completely to this wayward little tyrant.
Since the child had no mother, his influence over
her became the greater.</p>
<h3>II</h3>
<p>The child was named Nilmani. When he was
two years old his father fell seriously ill. A letter
reached Joygopal asking him to come as quickly
<SPAN name="Page_128" title="128"> </SPAN>
as possible. When after much trouble he got
leave and arrived, Kaliprasanna's last hour had
come.</p>
<p>Before he died Kaliprasanna entrusted Joygopal
with the charge of his son, and left a quarter of
his estate to his daughter.</p>
<p>So Joygopal gave up his appointment, and
came home to look after his property.</p>
<p>After a long time husband and wife met again.
When a material body breaks it may be put together
again. But when two human beings are
divided, after a long separation, they never re-unite
at the same place, and to the same time; for the
mind is a living thing, and moment by moment it
grows and changes.</p>
<p>In Sasi reunion stirred a new emotion. The
numbness of age-long habit in their old marriage
was entirely removed by the longing born of
separation, and she seemed to win her husband
much more closely than before. Had she not
vowed in her mind that whatever days might
come, and how long soever they might be, she
would never let the brightness of this glowing
love for her husband be dimmed.</p>
<p>Of this reunion, however, Joygopal felt differently.
When they were constantly together
<SPAN name="Page_129" title="129"> </SPAN>
before he had been bound to his wife by his
interests and idiosyncrasies. His wife was then
a living truth in his life, and there would have been
a great rent in the web of his daily habit if she
were left out. Consequently Joygopal found
himself in deep waters at first when he went
abroad. But in time this breach in habit was
patched up by a new habit.</p>
<p>And this was not all. Formerly his days went
by in the most indolent and careless fashion. For
the last two years, the stimulus of bettering his
condition had stirred so powerfully in his breast
that he had nothing else in his thoughts. As
compared with the intensity of this new passion,
his old life seemed like an unsubstantial shadow.
The greatest changes in a woman's nature are
wrought by love; in a man's, by ambition.</p>
<p>Joygopal, when he returned after two years,
found his wife not quite the same as of old. To
her life his infant brother-in-law had added a new
breadth. This part of her life was wholly unfamiliar
to him—here he had no communion with his wife.
His wife tried hard to share her love for the child
with him, but it cannot be said that she succeeded.
Sasi would come with the child in her arms, and
hold him before her husband with a smiling face—Nilmani
<SPAN name="Page_130" title="130"> </SPAN>
would clasp Sasi's neck, and hide his
face on her shoulder, and admit no obligation
of kindred. Sasi wished that her little brother
might show Joygopal all the arts he had learnt to
capture a man's mind. But Joygopal was not
very keen about it. How could the child show
any enthusiasm? Joygopal could not at all
understand what there was in the heavy-pated,
grave-faced, dusky child that so much love should
be wasted on him.</p>
<p>Women quickly understand the ways of love.
Sasi at once understood that Joygopal did not
care for Nilmani. Henceforth she used to screen
her brother with the greatest care—to keep him
away from the unloving, repelling look of her
husband. Thus the child came to be the treasure
of her secret care, the object of her isolated love.</p>
<p>Joygopal was greatly annoyed when Nilmani
cried; so Sasi would quickly press the child to
her breast, and with her whole heart and soul try
to soothe him. And when Nilmani's cry happened
to disturb Joygopal's sleep at night, and Joygopal
with an expression of displeasure, and in a tortured
spirit, growled at the child, Sasi felt humbled and
fluttered like a guilty thing. Then she would
take up the child in her lap, retire to a distance,
<SPAN name="Page_131" title="131"> </SPAN>
and in a voice of pleading love, with such endearments
as ‘my gold, my treasure, my jewel,’ lull
him to sleep.</p>
<p>Children will fall out for a hundred things.
Formerly in such cases, Sasi would punish her
children, and side with her brother, for he was
motherless. Now the law changed with the judge.
Nilmani had often to bear heavy punishment
without fault and without inquiry. This wrong
went like a dagger to Sasi's heart; so she would
take her punished brother into her room, and
with sweets and toys, and by caressing and
kissing him, solace as much as she could his
stricken heart.</p>
<p>Thus the more Sasi loved Nilmani, the more
Joygopal was annoyed with him. On the other
hand, the more Joygopal showed his contempt
for Nilmani, the more would Sasi bathe the child
with the nectar of her love.</p>
<p>And when the fellow Joygopal behaved harshly
to his wife, Sasi would minister to him silently,
meekly, and with loving-kindness. But inwardly
they hurt each other, moment by moment, about
Nilmani.</p>
<p>The hidden clash of a silent conflict like this is
far harder to bear than an open quarrel.</p>
<div><SPAN name="Page_132" title="132"> </SPAN></div>
<h3>III</h3>
<p>Nilmani's head was the largest part of him.
It seemed as if the Creator had blown through
a slender stick a big bubble at its top. The
doctors feared sometimes that the child might be
as frail and as quickly evanescent as a bubble.
For a long time he could neither speak nor walk.
Looking at his sad grave face, you might think
that his parents had unburdened all the sad weight
of their advanced years upon the head of this
little child.</p>
<p>With his sister's care and nursing, Nilmani
passed the period of danger, and arrived at his
sixth year.</p>
<p>In the month of Kartik, on the <i>bhaiphoto</i><SPAN name="FNanchor_26" href="#Footnote_26" class="fnanchor">[26]</SPAN> day,
Sasi had dressed Nilmani up as a little Babu, in
coat and <i>chadar</i> and red-bordered <i>dhoti</i>, and was
giving him the ‘brother's mark,’ when her outspoken
neighbour Tara came in and, for one
reason or another, began a quarrel.</p>
<p>‘'Tis no use,’ cried she, ‘giving the “brother's
<SPAN name="Page_133" title="133"> </SPAN>
mark” with so much show and ruining the
brother in secret.’</p>
<p>At this Sasi was thunderstruck with astonishment,
rage, and pain. Tara repeated the rumour
that Sasi and her husband had conspired together
to put the minor Nilmani's property up for sale
for arrears of rent, and to purchase it in the name
of her husband's cousin. When Sasi heard this,
she uttered a curse that those who could spread
such a foul lie might be stricken with leprosy in
the mouth. And then she went weeping to her
husband, and told him of the gossip. Joygopal
said: ‘Nobody can be trusted in these days.
Upen is my aunt's son, and I felt quite safe in
leaving him in charge of the property. He could
not have allowed the <i>taluk</i> Hasilpur to fall into
arrears and purchase it himself in secret, if I had
had the least inkling about it.’</p>
<p>‘Won't you sue then?’ asked Sasi in astonishment.</p>
<p>‘Sue one's cousin!’ said Joygopal. ‘Besides,
it would be useless, a simple waste of money.’</p>
<p>It was Sasi's supreme duty to trust her husband's
word, but Sasi could not. At last her happy
home, the domesticity of her love seemed hateful
to her. That home life which had once seemed
<SPAN name="Page_134" title="134"> </SPAN>
her supreme refuge was nothing more than a cruel
snare of self-interest, which had surrounded them,
brother and sister, on all sides. She was a
woman, single-handed, and she knew not how
she could save the helpless Nilmani. The more
she thought, the more her heart filled with terror,
loathing, and an infinite love for her imperilled
little brother. She thought that, if she only knew
how, she would appear before the <i>Lat Saheb</i>,<SPAN name="FNanchor_27" href="#Footnote_27" class="fnanchor">[27]</SPAN> nay,
write to the Maharani herself, to save her brother's
property. The Maharani would surely not allow
Nilmani's <i>taluk</i><SPAN name="FNanchor_28" href="#Footnote_28" class="fnanchor">[28]</SPAN> of Hasilpur, with an income of
seven hundred and fifty-eight rupees a year, to be
sold.</p>
<p>When Sasi was thus thinking of bringing her
husband's cousin to book by appealing to the
Maharani herself, Nilmani was suddenly seized
with fever and convulsions.</p>
<p>Joygopal called in the village doctor. When
Sasi asked for a better doctor, Joygopal said:
‘Why, Matilal isn't a bad sort.’</p>
<p>Sasi fell at his feet, and charged him with an
oath on her own head; whereupon Joygopal said:
‘Well, I shall send for the doctor from town.’</p>
<p>Sasi lay with Nilmani in her lap, nor would
<SPAN name="Page_135" title="135"> </SPAN>
Nilmani let her out of his sight for a minute; he
clung to her lest by some pretence she should
escape; even while he slept he would not loosen
his hold of her dress.</p>
<p>Thus the whole day passed, and Joygopal
came after nightfall to say that the doctor was
not at home; he had gone to see a patient at a
distance. He added that he himself had to leave
that very day on account of a lawsuit, and that he
had told Matilal, who would regularly call to see
the patient.</p>
<p>At night Nilmani wandered in his sleep. As
soon as the morning dawned, Sasi, without the
least scruple, took a boat with her sick brother,
and went straight to the doctor's house. The
doctor was at home—he had not left the town.
He quickly found lodgings for her, and having
installed her under the care of an elderly widow,
undertook the treatment of the boy.</p>
<p>The next day Joygopal arrived. Blazing with
fury, he ordered his wife to return home with him
at once.</p>
<p>‘Even if you cut me to pieces, I won't return,’
replied his wife. ‘You all want to kill my Nilmani,
who has no father, no mother, none other than me,
but I will save him.’</p>
<p><SPAN name="Page_136" title="136"> </SPAN>‘Then you remain here, and don't come back
to my house,’ cried Joygopal indignantly.</p>
<p>Sasi at length fired up. ‘<em>Your</em> house! Why,
'tis my brother's!’</p>
<p>‘All right, we'll see,’ said Joygopal. The
neighbours made a great stir over this incident.
‘If you want to quarrel with your husband,’ said
Tara, ‘do so at home. What is the good of leaving
your house? After all, Joygopal is your husband.’</p>
<p>By spending all the money she had with her,
and selling her ornaments, Sasi saved her brother
from the jaws of death. Then she heard that the
big property which they had in Dwarigram, where
their dwelling-house stood, the income of which
was more than Rs. 1500 a year, had been transferred
by Joygopal into his own name with the help of
the Jemindar. And now the whole property
belonged to them, not to her brother.</p>
<p>When he had recovered from his illness,
Nilmani would cry plaintively: ‘Let us go home,
sister.’ His heart was pining for his nephews and
nieces, his companions. So he repeatedly said:
‘Let us go home, sister, to that old house of ours.’
At this Sasi wept. Where was their home?</p>
<p>But it was no good crying. Her brother had
no one else besides herself in the world. Sasi
<SPAN name="Page_137" title="137"> </SPAN>
thought of this, wiped her tears, and, entering the
Zenana of the Deputy Magistrate, Tarini Babu,
appealed to his wife. The Deputy Magistrate
knew Joygopal. That a woman should forsake
her home, and engage in a dispute with her husband
regarding matters of property, greatly incensed
him against Sasi. However, Tarini Babu kept
Sasi diverted, and instantly wrote to Joygopal.
Joygopal put his wife and brother-in-law into a
boat by force, and brought them home.</p>
<p>Husband and wife, after a second separation,
met again for the second time! The decree of
Prajapati!<SPAN name="FNanchor_29" href="#Footnote_29" class="fnanchor">[29]</SPAN></p>
<p>Having got back his old companions after a
long absence, Nilmani was perfectly happy. Seeing
his unsuspecting joy, Sasi felt as if her heart would
break.</p>
<h3>IV</h3>
<p>The Magistrate was touring in the Mofussil during
the cold weather and pitched his tent within
the village to shoot. The Saheb met Nilmani
on the village <i>maidan</i>. The other boys gave him
a wide berth, varying Chanakya's couplet a little,
and adding the Saheb to the list of ‘the clawed,
the toothed, and the horned beasts.’ But grave-natured
<SPAN name="Page_138" title="138"> </SPAN>
Nilmani in imperturbable curiosity serenely
gazed at the Saheb.</p>
<p>The Saheb was amused and came up and asked
in Bengali: ‘You read at the <i>pathsala</i>?’</p>
<p>The boy silently nodded. ‘What <i>pustaks</i><SPAN name="FNanchor_30" href="#Footnote_30" class="fnanchor">[30]</SPAN> do
you read?’ asked the Saheb.</p>
<p>As Nilmani did not understand the word <i>pustak</i>,
he silently fixed his gaze on the Magistrate's face.
Nilmani told his sister the story of his meeting
the Magistrate with great enthusiasm.</p>
<p>At noon, Joygopal, dressed in trousers, <i>chapkan</i>,<SPAN name="FNanchor_31" href="#Footnote_31" class="fnanchor">[31]</SPAN>
and <i>pagri</i>,<SPAN name="FNanchor_32" href="#Footnote_32" class="fnanchor">[32]</SPAN> went to pay his salams to the Saheb.
A crowd of suitors, <i>chaprasies</i>,<SPAN name="FNanchor_33" href="#Footnote_33" class="fnanchor">[33]</SPAN> and constables
stood about him. Fearing the heat, the Saheb had
seated himself at a court-table outside the tent, in
the open shade, and placing Joygopal in a chair,
questioned him about the state of the village.
Having taken the seat of honour in open view of
the community, Joygopal swelled inwardly, and
thought it would be a good thing if any of the
Chakrabartis or Nandis came and saw him there.</p>
<p>At this moment, a woman, closely veiled, and
accompanied by Nilmani, came straight up to the
Magistrate. She said: ‘Saheb, into your hands I
<SPAN name="Page_139" title="139"> </SPAN>
resign my helpless brother. Save him.’ The
Saheb, seeing the large-headed, solemn boy, whose
acquaintance he had already made, and thinking
that the woman must be of a respectable family,
at once stood up and said: ‘Please enter the tent.’</p>
<p>The woman said: ‘What I have to say I will
say here.’</p>
<p>Joygopal writhed and turned pale. The curious
villagers thought it capital fun, and pressed closer.
But the moment the Saheb lifted his cane they
scampered off.</p>
<p>Holding her brother by the hand, Sasi narrated
the history of the orphan from the beginning. As
Joygopal tried to interrupt now and then, the
Magistrate thundered with a flushed face, ‘<i>Chup
rao</i>,’ and with the tip of his cane motioned to
Joygopal to leave the chair and stand up.</p>
<p>Joygopal, inwardly raging against Sasi, stood
speechless. Nilmani nestled up close to his sister,
and listened awe-struck.</p>
<p>When Sasi had finished her story, the Magistrate
put a few questions to Joygopal, and on hearing
his answers, kept silence for a long while, and then
addressed Sasi thus: ‘My good woman, though
this matter may not come up before me, still rest
assured I will do all that is needful about it. You
<SPAN name="Page_140" title="140"> </SPAN>
can return home with your brother without the
least misgiving.’</p>
<p>Sasi said: ‘Saheb, so long as he does not get
back his own home, I dare not take him there.
Unless you keep Nilmani with you, none else will
be able to save him.’</p>
<p>‘And what would you do?’ queried the Saheb.</p>
<p>‘I will retire to my husband's house,’ said Sasi;
‘there is nothing to fear for me.’</p>
<p>The Saheb smiled a little, and, as there was
nothing else to do, agreed to take charge of this
lean, dusty, grave, sedate, gentle Bengali boy whose
neck was ringed with amulets.</p>
<p>When Sasi was about to take her leave, the boy
clutched her dress. ‘Don't be frightened, <i>baba</i>,—come,’
said the Saheb. With tears streaming
behind her veil, Sasi said: ‘Do go, my brother,
my darling brother—you will meet your sister
again!’</p>
<p>Saying this she embraced him and stroked his
head and back, and releasing her dress, hastily
withdrew; and just then the Saheb put his left arm
round him. The child wailed out: ‘Sister, oh, my
sister!’ Sasi turned round at once, and with outstretched
arm made a sign of speechless solace, and
with a bursting heart withdrew.</p>
<p><SPAN name="Page_141" title="141–142"> </SPAN>Again in that old, ever-familiar house husband
and wife met. The decree of Prajapati!</p>
<p>But this union did not last long. For soon
after the villagers learnt one morning that Sasi had
died of cholera in the night, and had been instantly
cremated.</p>
<p>None uttered a word about it. Only neighbour
Tara would sometimes be on the point of bursting
out, but people would shut up her mouth, saying,
‘Hush!’</p>
<p>At parting, Sasi gave her word to her brother
they would meet again. Where that word was
kept none can tell.</p>
<div class="story-title"><SPAN name="Page_143" title="143–144"> </SPAN>SUBHA</div>
<div style="break-after:column;"></div><br />