That very day the body was brought to Kashi. The cremation was performed there. The lawyer had a nephew living in Malwa. He was sent a telegram and summoned. He performed the cremation. Ratan shuddered even at the thought of the scene of the funeral pyre. Had she gone there, she might have fainted.
These days Jalpa spent almost the whole day with her. Grief-stricken Ratan had no thought for household affairs, nor for eating and drinking. Every day some such thing would come to mind that made her weep for hours. Had she fulfilled even a fraction of the duty she owed her husband, she would have realized it. She wept so much while speaking of her neglect of duty, her harshness, and her obsession with adornment that she would be overcome with sobs.
She found peace for her soul only by speaking of the lawyer’s virtues. As long as a guardian had been sitting at the door of life, she had never worried about dogs, cats, thieves, or burglars. But now there was no guardian at the door, so she remained vigilant and kept singing her husband’s praises.
Neither of them spoke about how she would manage her life, which servants would have to be dismissed, or which household expenses would have to be reduced. It seemed to her that even thinking about such matters would be an act of disloyalty toward the departed soul.
Eating, putting on clean clothes, and distracting her mind by reading something also seemed improper to her. On the day of the shraddha ceremony, she donated all her clothes and ornaments to the Mahapatra. What use would she have for them now? Would she dishonor her life by using them?
In contrast, she would look at even the smallest belongings of her husband as precious mementos and examine them with affection.
Her nature had become so gentle that no matter how great the loss, she no longer grew angry. The tea set slipped from Teemal’s hands and fell, but not even a crease appeared on Ratan’s forehead. Earlier, when an inkpot had broken, she had severely scolded that same Teemal and was about to dismiss him; today, despite a loss many times greater, she did not say a word.
Harsh feelings seemed to be afraid to arise in her heart, lest they cause her pain. Or perhaps she considered it a sin to allow any feeling or thought other than grief for her husband and praise of his virtues to enter her mind.
The lawyer’s nephew was named Manibhooshan. He was very sociable, cheerful, and efficient. In that single month he had made hundreds of friends.
He cultivated such close relations and such easy familiarity with all the lawyers and wealthy men whom the lawyer had known in the city that, without Ratan even knowing it, he began conducting the bank transactions in his own name.
The lawyer had twenty thousand rupees deposited in the Allahabad Bank. Manibhooshan took possession of that money and also began collecting the rents from the houses. He even began collecting the revenue from the villages himself, as though Ratan had nothing to do with any of it.
One day Teemal came to Ratan and said, “Bahuji, the one who was going has gone. Now you should also take some notice of the household. I have heard that Bhaiyaji has transferred all the money in the bank into his own name.”
Ratan looked at him with such a stern and angry expression that he did not dare say anything more.
That very evening Manibhooshan dismissed Teemal, accusing him of theft, so that Ratan would have no grounds to object.
Now only Maharaj remained. Manibhooshan kept giving him bhang and cultivated such a friendship with him that Maharaj became completely devoted to him. He would tell the maid, “Babuji has such a grand, aristocratic nature. Bring him any purchase and he never asks how much it cost. Great men behave like great men. Bahuji used to split hairs over everything, but this poor man never says a word.”
The maid’s mouth had already been silenced. Her middle-aged beauty had stirred the new master’s amorous nature. She would linger in the outer sitting room on one pretext or another.
Ratan had not the slightest idea of the trap being laid for her.
One day Manibhooshan said to Ratan, “Kakiji, I now feel that it is pointless for me to remain here. I am thinking of taking you home with me. Your daughter-in-law will look after you there, you will be entertained by the children, and the expenses will also be lower. If you say so, this bungalow can be sold. We should get a good price for it.”
Ratan started as though she had awakened from a stupor, as though someone had shaken her awake. Looking at him with bewildered eyes, she said, “Were you saying something to me?”
Manibhooshan said, “Yes. I was saying that there is no point in our remaining here any longer. How would it be if I took you home with me?”
Ratan said indifferently, “Yes, that would be good.”
Manibhooshan said, “If Kakaji left a will, please let me see it. It is our duty to bow before his wishes.”
Ratan replied in the same detached manner, as though she were sitting somewhere in the sky and had no concern left with worldly affairs, “He did not write a will. And what need was there?”
Manibhooshan asked again, “Perhaps he wrote one and left it somewhere?”
Ratan said, “I know nothing about it. He never mentioned it.”
Manibhooshan thought happily to himself, I would like to have some memorial made in his memory.
Ratan said eagerly, “Yes, yes, I want that too.”
Manibhooshan said, “You know that the income from the villages is about three thousand rupees a year. That much was his annual charitable expenditure. I have looked through his account books. It was never less than two hundred or two hundred and fifty rupees in any month. My advice is that all of that should continue exactly as it was.”
Ratan said happily, “Yes, of course!”
Manibhooshan continued, “Then the income from the villages should be devoted to charitable purposes. The rent from the houses is about two hundred rupees a month. A small Sanskrit school could be opened in his name with that money.”
Ratan said, “That would be very good.”
Manibhooshan said, “And the bungalow should be sold. The money should be deposited in the bank.”
Ratan said, “That would be very good. What need do I have for money now?”
Manibhooshan said, “We are all here to serve you. The motorcar should also be disposed of. If we start worrying about these matters now, it will take two or three months before we can finally be free of everything.”
Ratan said carelessly, “There is no hurry. There is still some money in the bank.”
Manibhooshan said, “There was some money in the bank, but expenses have also been going on for a month. There may be a thousand or fifteen hundred rupees left. Money simply seems to fly away in this city. I myself could not stay here for even a month. The motorcar should be sold immediately.”
Ratan gave the same reply to this as well: “That would be good.”
She was in that state of mental weakness in which even small tasks begin to seem incomprehensible to a person. Manibhooshan’s efficiency had, in a way, overwhelmed her. At that moment, anyone who showed even a little sympathy toward her began to seem like a well-wisher.
Grief and mental anguish had made her mind so soft and yielding that anyone could leave an impression upon it. All the impurity and meanness within her seemed to have been burned away; she regarded everyone as her own.
She suspected no one and feared no one. Perhaps if even a thief had stood before her and carried away her property, she would not have raised an alarm.