ANNADA BABU had rented a bungalow in a secluded part of the cantonment outside the city.
On his arrival in Benares he had learned that the simple fever and cough from which Nalinaksha’s mother, Kshemankari, had been suffering had developed into pneumonia. The fever had been aggravated by the chilly weather and by her refusal to give up her customary morning bath in the Ganges, and her condition had become really critical. As a result of Hemnalini’s unremitting care the crisis was now over, but her illness had left the old lady deplorably weak. In one respect Hemnalini could offer her no assistance. Kshemankari’s views on ceremonial purity were rigid, and she could not take from the hands of the Brahmo girl such potions and nourishment as were prescribed for her. She had been accustomed to cook her own food and now Nalinaksha himself prepared the invalid’s diet and served up all her meals, greatly to his mother’s distress.
“It’s time I were out of the way,” she lamented. “Why did the Lord keep me alive only to be a burden to you?”
Austere as she was in respect of her own comfort and personal adornment, Kshemankari had a keen eye for order and beauty in her surroundings; this Hemnalini had learned from Nalinaksha. The girl accordingly made it her special care to keep the whole house in apple-pie order and she bestowed particular attention on her dress before she visited the old lady. Annada Babu supplied her with flowers from a garden which he had leased in the cantonment, and Hemnalini used to arrange these tastefully round the sick-bed.
Nalinaksha made periodical attempts to induce his mother to allow a maid to wait on her but she would never consent to accept services from a menial. The household included, of course, various servants — men and women — employed on the rough work of the establishment but the old lady could not bear to have any of the more intimate personal offices performed for her by a hireling. Since the death of her old nurse she had never suffered a woman-servant to fan her or to massage her even when she was prostrate with sickness.
She had a weakness for pretty children of both sexes. As she returned from her morning immersion in the Ganges, sedulously sprinkling blossoms and holy water on each emblem of Siva that she passed, she would pick up some handsome peasant-lad, or a fairskinned little Brahman maid, and bring the child home with her. Attracted by their looks she had won the hearts of several of the neighbour’s children with gifts of toys, coppers, and sweets.
At times a detachment of these youngsters would descend upon her house and scamper all over the premises, to the old lady’s unfeigned delight. She had yet another weakness. She could never resist purchasing any dainty trifle that caught her eye, not that she collected such objects herself, but because she took special pleasure in bestowing them on such recipients as she knew would really appreciate the gifts. Even at the houses of distant relations and casual acquaintances mysterious parcels would be delivered from time to time to the great surprise of the inmates. She possessed a large ebony chest in which she had stored a number of pretty trinkets and silken garments. These were intended for the bride whom Nalinaksha was one day to bring home. She pictured her daughter-in-law as a young girl of great beauty, who would brighten the drab house with her vivacity and winning ways and whom it would be a delight to deck in her treasured finery. Such anticipations provided the old lady with material for many a pleasant day-dream.
Kshemankari’s own habits were those of an ascetic, but though she spent nearly the whole day in prayer and ceremonial observances, taking but one meal of milk and fruit, she strongly disapproved of Nalinaksha’s austere mode of life. Undue insistence on ritual she considered unbecoming in a man. She regarded men as mere overgrown children and displayed a large-hearted and affectionate tolerance towards such of them as showed lack of restraint or discrimination in matters of eating and drinking.
“Why should a man be severe on himself?” she would ask indulgently. Actual impiety should not be condoned but she had a settled conviction that rules were not intended for menfolk. She would have been quite satisfied had Nalinaksha exhibited in a modified degree the thoughtlessness and selfishness of the normal male, had he merely refrained from disturbing her at her prayers and carefully avoided contact with her at times when his touch was ceremonially defiling.
When Kshemankari rose from her sick-bed she was vastly tickled to find not only that Hemnalini had become an enthusiastic convert to Nalinaksha’s teaching, but that the grey-haired Annada Babu also sat at his feet and hearkened to his dicta with the reverence due to the inspired utterances of a prophet.
She took Hemnalini aside one day and laughingly remarked, “My dear, I am afraid you people are encouraging Nalinaksha in his foolishness. Why do you pay any attention to the nonsense he talks? At your age you should be enjoying life thoroughly; you should be thinking of clothes and amusements instead of religion. You may ask why I don’t practise myself what I preach. Well, there is some excuse for it in my case. My parents were very strict and all of us, boys and girls, were brought up in an atmosphere of piety. We shouldn’t know where we were if we altered our habits now. But your upbringing has been different. I know exactly the sort of atmosphere in which you werè reared and it goes against the grain with you to adopt a different mode of life. It’s no good forcing your inclinations, my dear. What I say is, let every one follow his natural bent in these matters. It won’t do, dear; you should give it up. Fasting and prayer aren’t in your line. This idea that Nalin is an inspired teacher is something quite new; he really knows nothing about such things. Up till a short time ago he followed his own inclinations and pulled a long face if he heard a text quoted. It was only to please me that he launched out in this way and I’m afraid he’ll turn into a full-blown anchorite one of these days. ‘Stick to the faith of your childhood,’ I keep on telling him. ‘I have no fault to find with it, in fact nothing would please me better,’ but he only laughs; it’s a way he has. He never opens his mouth whatever you say to him. Scold him even and he won’t answer back!”
This conversation took place in the late afternoon while the old lady was dressing Hemnalini’s hair. She did not approve of the girl’s simple style of coiffure.
“You think I’m very old-fashioned, dear,” she would say, “and know nothing about the latest modes. Well, I think I may safely boast that I know more styles of hairdressing than you do. I once knew a very nice English lady. She used to come here and give me sewing-lessons and she taught me a lot about hairdressing too. Of course I had to bathe and change my clothes after each of her visits! It may or may not be right to be so scrupulous, but I’m built that way. You mustn’t mind my being squeamish with you too, dear; you know it isn’t aversion, only my regular custom. It was a terrible blow to me when my husband’s people ceased to be orthodox Hindus, but I made no protest. All I said was, ‘Obey your own conscience; I’m only an ignorant woman and can’t give up the ways to which I have been accustomed,’” and Kshemankari brushed aside a tear.
The old lady thoroughly enjoyed loosening Hemnalini’s long tresses and braiding them afresh in some ever-novel fashion. She even went the length of unlocking her ebony chest and tricking the girl out in the bright-coloured garments that she loved. Dressing-up was a game in which she took heartfelt delight. Hemnalini brought over her needlework almost every day and spent the evening in learning new methods.
Kshemankari was also very fond of reading Bengali novels and Hemnalini brought her all the books and periodicals that she possessed. Hem marvelled at the shrewdness of the old lady’s comments on the stories and essays; she had always imagined that such discrimination could only be the product of an English education. The wittiness of her discourse and the piety of her mode of life made Nalinaksha’s mother appear a very wonderful woman in Hemnalini’s eyes. There was nothing commonplace or conventional about her and Hemnalini’s intercourse with her was a series of delightful surprises to the girl.