Nine days passed. Rama went to the office every morning and returned when the lamps were lit. Every day he went with the hope that some big catch would fall into his hands. But that hope was not fulfilled. Not only that—the sun of fortune did not shine again as it had on the first day. Even so, it was no small achievement that in nine days he had managed to accumulate one hundred rupees. He had not even bought himself a single penny's worth of betel. Several times Jalpa said, "Come, let's go out somewhere," but he put her off with words. Only tomorrow remained. When Ratan came tomorrow and asked for the bracelet, what would he say to her? He sat thinking about this after returning from the office. Would she agree to wait another month? If she did not speak for that long, perhaps he would become free of his debt to her. He was confident that he could persuade her with sweet words. If she insisted, he would tell her that the jeweler was not returning the money.
It was the rainy season, and darkness was gathering. Rama was thinking of going to Ramesh Babu's to play a few games of chess, but he kept hesitating as he watched the clouds. Just then Ratan arrived. She was not cheerful. Her expression was becoming stern. Today she had come prepared to fight, and she wanted to keep even the thought of affection and courtesy far away.
Jalpa said, "You have come at just the right time. I too will go out with you today. These days he doesn't even have time to lift his head because of his burden of work."
Ratan said coldly, "I have to return home very soon today. I have come to remind Babuji about tomorrow."
Rama was already frightened by the downcast look on her face. He wanted somehow to make her cheerful. He said eagerly, "Yes, I remember perfectly. I have just come from the jeweler's shop. I spend an hour there every morning and evening, but these things take a great deal of time; the real value lies in the workmanship. As for the material itself, it is nothing. Two men are working on it, but it may still take no less than a month for the thing to be ready. When it is done, though, it will be superb. You will be delighted."
But Ratan did not soften in the least. She snapped, "What! It will take another month? Such workmanship that it cannot be done in three months! Tell him to return my money. Goddesses may wear such bracelets, but I have no need of one."
Ramanath—"It won't take a month. I will have it made quickly. I only said a month as an estimate. There is very little left now. Several days alone were spent searching for the right gemstones."
Ratan—"I don't want the bracelet at all, brother. Just return my money. I have seen plenty of goldsmiths myself. By your grace I have three pairs of bracelets even now, but I have never seen such deception."
At the word "deception," Rama flared up. "Not deception—call it my boldness. What need did I have to put my own neck in danger? I paid the jeweler in advance only because I thought he would be pleased and make it quickly. Now that you are asking for your money, the jeweler cannot return it."
Ratan looked at him sharply. "Why? Why can't he return the money?"
Ramanath—"Because where will he sell the thing he has made for you? It may take six months or even a year to sell. Everyone's taste is not the same."
Ratan frowned. "I know nothing about that. He delayed, so let him suffer the consequences. Tomorrow either bring me the bracelet or bring me my money. If you are friendly with the jeweler and cannot say anything to him out of consideration and courtesy, then show me his shop. If you are ashamed to do that, at least tell me his name and I will find out. What a joke! I will have his shop auctioned. I will have him sent to jail. You cannot get anything done with these rogues without fighting them."
Rama looked at the ground in embarrassment. What a cursed hour it had been when he took money from Ratan! He had brought trouble upon himself for no reason.
Jalpa said, "It is true. Why don't you take her to the jeweler's shop? If she sees the thing with her own eyes, she will be satisfied."
Ratan—"I don't want the thing anymore."
Rama said trembling, "Very well. You will get your money tomorrow."
Ratan—"At what time tomorrow?"
Ramanath—"I will bring it when I return from the office."
Ratan—"I will take the full amount. Don't try to put me off by giving me one or two hundred rupees."
Ramanath—"Tomorrow you will take all your money."
Saying this, Rama went into the men's room, wrote a promissory note to Ramesh Babu, and said to Gopi, "Take this to Ramesh Babu. Bring back his answer."
Then he wrote another note and gave it to Vishwambhar, telling him to show it to Manik Das and bring back his answer.
Vishwambhar said, "It is raining."
Ramanath—"Will the whole world be washed away? Go running."
Vishwambhar—"And what if he isn't at home?"
Ramanath—"He will be. He doesn't go anywhere at this hour."
This was the first time in Rama's life that he had asked his friends for a loan. He used every word of entreaty and humility that he could remember. It was a completely new experience for him. Letters like the ones he had written today had come to them from him many times. How deeply his heart had been moved when he read such letters; yet, helplessly, he had been forced to make excuses. Would Ramesh Babu also make an excuse? His income was greater and his expenses smaller; if he wished, he could wait for the money to be returned. Would he not treat me with even this much consideration? By now neither of the two boys had returned. He began pacing at the door. Ratan's motorcar was still standing there. Just then Ratan came outside; although she saw him pacing, she said nothing. She got into the motorcar and drove away.
Where had those two boys got to all this time? Perhaps they had stopped to play somewhere. They were rascals, after all. If only Ramesh would give the money, everything would be fine. I asked for two hundred unnecessarily; perhaps he doesn't have that much money. His in-laws must squeeze him so much that nothing remains. Manik could give fifteen hundred, perhaps even a thousand, if he wanted. But we shall see; today will be the test. If these people do not give me the money today, I will never even ask after them again. I am nobody's servant that when they call me to play chess I should come running. Whenever Rama heard a sound, his heart began pounding. At last Vishwambhar returned. Manik had written: "I am very hard-pressed these days. I was actually going to ask you for money myself."
Rama tore up the note and threw it away. "What a selfish fellow! If a sub-inspector had asked him, he would have taken one look at the note and run with the money. Never mind. We shall see. Goods will certainly come in for the octroi. I will make up the deficiency then."
Just then Gopi also returned. Ramesh had written: "I have made two or four rules for myself in life and I follow them very strictly. One of them is that I will not enter into financial dealings with friends. You have not yet had the experience, but after a few days you will discover that once money dealings begin between friends, it does not take long for resentment to arise. You are my dear friend; I do not want to become your enemy. So forgive me."
Rama tore this letter up as well and threw it away. He sat in a chair and stared fixedly at the lamp. Whether he could actually see the lamp is doubtful. With the same concentration, he might as well have been staring at the black, impenetrable mass of clouds in the sky.
There is also a state of mind in which the eyes remain open but nothing is seen; the ears remain open but nothing is heard.