The night when separated lovers meet again is like the night when travelers stop at an inn—it passes in conversation. Both Rama and Jalpa had to tell the story of their six months. In order to enhance his own glory, Rama greatly exaggerated his sufferings. Jalpa did not allow even a mention of her hardships to enter her story. She was afraid it would pain him, but Rama took particular pleasure in making her weep. Why he had run away, why he had run away in the first place, how he had run away—all this he narrated in mournful tones, and Jalpa listened, sobbing. He wanted to impress her with his account. Until now, he had had to suffer defeat in every matter. Whatever had seemed impossible to him, Jalpa had accomplished with ease. He could have described the chess affair with plenty of salt and pepper, but even there Jalpa had shown him up. What other means did his hunger for glory have except to turn his mustard-seed-sized hardships into mountains?
Jalpa said through her sobs, "You endured all these troubles, but you did not write even a single letter to us. Why would you write? What relationship did you have with us, after all! It was merely affection based on appearances! Out of sight, out of mind."
Rama said wistfully, "It wasn't like that, Jalpa. Whatever passed through my heart, my heart alone knows. But I had to have the face to write, too. When I ran away from home hiding my face, how could I sit down and write an account of my troubles! I had decided that until I had earned a great deal of money, I would not write a single word."
Jalpa said with sarcasm in her tear-filled eyes, "Quite right. Money is dearer than people, after all! We are friends of money. Whether you steal, commit dacoity, forge currency notes, give false testimony, or beg, just bring money by any means. How accurately you understood my nature! Even Gosainji said, 'All affection is born of self-interest.'"
Rama said awkwardly, "No, no, my dear, it wasn't like that. I kept thinking: how could I go to you in these rags? I tell you truly, I was most afraid of you. I thought you must consider me deceitful, a liar, a coward. Perhaps I imagined that the sight of a bag of money would soften your heart somewhat."
Jalpa said in a pained voice, "I might not even have touched that bag with my hand. Today I have learned how low, how selfish, how greedy you think I am! It is not your fault; it is entirely mine. If I had been a good woman, why would this day have come? If a man who earns thirty or forty rupees as a servant has a wife who spends two or four rupees every day and intends to wear jewelry worth one or two thousand, she is preparing the means for the ruin of both herself and her husband. If you thought me so greedy for money, you did me no injustice. But I will never again fall into the fire in which I have already burned once. During these months I have done some penance for those sins, and I will continue doing so for the rest of my life. I do not say that I have had my fill of luxury, or that I have grown tired of jewelry and clothes, or that I have come to hate outings and entertainments. All those desires remain exactly as they were. If you can fulfill them through your own manliness, your own labor, your own honest enterprise, what could be better? But if you bring home even a hundred thousand through corrupt intentions and by defiling your soul, I will reject it. The moment I learned that you had become a police witness, I was so grieved that I went with Dada to your bungalow at once, but you had gone out that very day, and you have only returned today. I do not want the blood of so many people upon my head. Tell the court plainly that I gave evidence because I was deceived by the police, that I have nothing to do with this matter."
Rama said anxiously, "Ever since I received your letter, I have been thinking about this question, but I cannot understand what to do. I do not have the courage to say one thing and then retract it."
"You will have to change your statement."
"After all, how?"
"What's difficult about it? Once you know that the municipality cannot bring any case against you, what are you afraid of?"
"Even if there is no fear, there is also the shame of it. To retract from my own mouth what I have said with that very mouth—that I cannot do. Besides, I will get some good position. I will live comfortably. I do not have the strength to keep stumbling from street to street."
Jalpa gave no answer. She was thinking how great the measure of selfishness in a person can be. Rama then said boldly, "And besides, the whole decision is not based on my testimony alone. Even if I change, the police will produce someone else. There is no way of saving the accused. Yes, I will be ruined for nothing."
Jalpa frowned and said, "How shamelessly you talk! Are you really so fallen that you would cut other people's throats for the sake of your own bread? I cannot bear it. I am willing to work for wages, even to starve to death. I can take upon my head the greatest calamity in the world, but I cannot gain even the kingdom of heaven by harming someone else."
Irritated by this idealism, Rama said, "Then do you want me to work as a porter here?"
Jalpa—"No, I do not want that. But even if you have to work as a porter, that is far better than eating bread soaked in blood."
Rama said calmly, "Jalpa, I am not as vile as you think I am. Everyone considers a bad thing bad. I too suffer from the thought that so many people's blood is being shed through my hands, but circumstances have made me helpless. I no longer have the strength to keep taking blows. I cannot pick a quarrel with the police. Not everyone in the world lives by ideals. Why do you want to raise me to a height I do not have the strength to reach?"
Jalpa said sharply, "A man who has the power to kill but does not have the power not to kill—that is astonishing. A man who has the strength to run but does not have the strength to stand still—who would believe that? When we want to do something, the strength comes of itself. You simply decide that you will change your testimony, and everything else will follow."
Rama listened with his head bowed.
Jalpa, becoming even more impassioned, said, "If you intend to cultivate this crop of sin, then send me away from here today. I will leave with my face blackened and will never come to trouble you again. You live happily. I will earn my own food through hard work and labor. My penance is not yet complete; that is why this weakness still follows us. I can see that it will ruin us completely."
Rama was struck by her words. Scratching his head, he said, "I too want to escape this trouble somehow."
"Then why don't you? If you are ashamed to say it yourself, I will go. That will be best. I will leave and tell your Superintendent Sahib the whole story plainly."
All Rama's hesitation disappeared. He did not want to suffer the humiliation of having his wife go and plead his case. He said, "There is no need for you to go, Jalpa. I will explain it to them."
Jalpa insisted, "Tell me plainly: will you change your statement or not?"
Rama, as though cornered, said, "I say I will change it."
"Because I am telling you to, or because your own heart tells you to?"
"Not because you are telling me. Because my own heart tells me. I myself detest such things. I was merely hesitant, and you have removed that hesitation."
Then they talked about other things. How had it become known that Rama had squandered the money? How had the money been repaid? Had the others learned about the embezzlement, or had the matter remained hidden within the family? What had happened to Ratan? Why had Gopi left so quickly? Were the two of them studying, or were they still wandering about aimlessly? At last they spoke of Amma and Dada. Then they began making plans for life.
Jalpa said, "When we go home, let us take a little land from Ratan and happily engage in farming."
Rama said, "Wouldn't it be better to open a tea shop here?"
They debated the matter. In the end, Rama had to admit defeat. If he stayed here, he could neither look after the household, nor educate his brothers, nor serve and care for his parents. After all, he also had some duty toward his family.
Rama had no answer.