Chapter 4

In this manner a year did indeed pass, but time seemed unwilling to move any further. Devdas’s mother began to make a great fuss. Calling her husband, she said, “Our Deba is turning into an illiterate rustic—do something about it, whatever you can.”

He considered the matter and said, “Let Deba go to Calcutta. He can stay at Nagen’s house and pursue his studies properly.”

Nagen-babu was Devdas’s maternal uncle. Soon everyone heard of the plan. On hearing it, Parvati was struck with fear. Catching Devdas alone, she clung to his arm, swaying gently, and asked, “Devda, are you going to Calcutta then?”

“Who said so?”

“Jethamoshai told me.”

“Nonsense—I won't go on any account.”

“And if they send you by force?”

“Force?”

Devdas pulled such an expression at this that Parvati understood clearly that there was no one on earth who could compel him to do anything against his will. And wasn’t that precisely what she wished for? So, filled with immense joy, she took his hand once more, swayed from side to side, and looking up at his face with a smile, said, “Mind you don't go, Devda.”

“Never—”

Yet this vow of his was not kept. His father gave him a thorough scolding, even resorting to rebuke and blows, and dispatched him to Calcutta in the company of Dharmadas. On the day of departure, Devdas felt a deep pang of sorrow in his heart; going to a new place brought him neither curiosity nor joy. Parvati simply refused to let him go that day. How bitterly she wept, but who was there to heed her words? At first, wounded by pride, she would not speak to Devdas for some time; but in the end, when Devdas called out to her and said, “Paru, I shall return soon; if they don't send me back, I’ll run away,”

Only then did Parvati regain her composure and pour out all the secrets of her little heart to him. After that, boarding the horse-drawn carriage with his portmanteau, bearing his mother’s blessing and the final drop of her tears worn like a sacred mark upon his forehead, Devdas departed.

What agony Parvati suffered then! How tears streamed down her cheeks, and how her heart threatened to burst with aggrieved sorrow! The first few days passed for her in this manner.

Then, waking one morning, she suddenly realized that she had nothing whatever to do for the rest of the day. Previously, ever since she had left the village pathshala, her time from morning till evening had been spent in noise and frantic play; it had felt as though she had so much to accomplish, if only time would permit. Now there was time in abundance, yet she could not find the smallest task to occupy herself. Rising in the morning, she would sit down on some days to write a letter. By the time ten o’clock struck, her mother would grow annoyed; hearing of it, her grandmother would say, “Ah, let her write. It is better to study in the morning than to run about wildly.”

And on days when a letter arrived from Devdas, it was a day of pure joy for Parvati. Sitting on the threshold by the staircase with the sheet of paper in her hands, she would spend the entire day reading it again and again. Eventually, two months passed. Writing or receiving letters was no longer so frequent; the initial excitement seemed somewhat dampened.

One morning Parvati said to her mother, “Ma, I am going back to the pathshala.”

“Why, child?” She was rather surprised.

Parvati nodded resolutely and said, “I definitely will go.”

“Go then. When have I ever forbidden you to go to the pathshala, my child?”

That afternoon, holding the maidservant’s hand, Parvati searched out her long-abandoned slate and book, went to her old place, and sat down quietly and composedly.

The maid said, “Gurumoshai, do not beat Paru anymore; she has come to study of her own accord. When she feels like studying she will, and when she doesn’t, she will go home.”

The pandit thought to himself, So be it. Aloud he said, “Very well, so shall it be.”

For a moment he even felt inclined to ask why Parvati had not been sent to Calcutta as well, but he held his tongue. Parvati noticed Bhulo, the head pupil, sitting right there on that same bench. At the sight of him, a fleeting urge to laugh came over her, but the very next instant tears filled her eyes. Then a deep anger against Bhulo flared up within her. It felt to her as though he alone were responsible for driving Devdas away from home. In this manner, many more days passed by.

After a long time, Devdas returned home. Parvati came running to him—and they talked of many things. She did not have much to say—and even if she did, she could not bring herself to utter it. But Devdas talked at great length. Almost all of it was about Calcutta. Then, one day, the summer vacation drew to a close. Devdas departed for Calcutta once again. There was weeping this time as well, to be sure, but it lacked the deep agony of the previous occasion. Thus four years went by. Over these years, Devdas’s nature had altered so drastically that Parvati, seeing it, wept in secret and wiped her eyes time and again. Whatever rustic flaws Devdas had possessed before were now entirely gone after living in the city. Now he felt intensely embarrassed without his English shoes, fine shirts, dhotis, walking stick, gold watch-chain, and cufflinks. Wandering by the riverbank in the village held no more charm for him; instead, he derived pleasure from going out hunting with a gun in hand. Rather than catching tiny puti fish, he preferred angling for large game fish. And was that all? Discussions of society, political discourse, meetings and associations—debates over cricket and football. Alas! Where now was that Parvati, and where their village of Talsonapur! It was not that a few sweet memories of childhood no longer crossed his mind—but amidst the excitement of various pursuits, they could no longer linger in his heart for long.

Summer vacation arrived once again. During the previous year's summer break, Devdas had gone travelling elsewhere instead of returning home. This time, both his parents had written insistent letters, so despite his reluctance, Devdas packed his bedding and arrived at Howrah Station bound for the village of Talsonapur. On the day he reached home he was not feeling quite well, and so he did not venture out. The following day, coming over to Parvati’s house, he called out, “Khuri-ma!”

Parvati’s mother welcomed him warmly: “Come in, child, do sit down.”

After chatting with Khuri-ma for a little while, Devdas asked, “Where is Paru, Khuri-ma?”

“She must be upstairs in her room.”

Devdas came upstairs and found Parvati lighting the evening lamp; he called out, “Paru!”

At first Parvati started in surprise; then she bowed to touch his feet in reverence and stepped aside.

“What are you doing, Paru?”

There was no need to answer that—so Parvati remained silent. Then Devdas began to feel awkward—he said, “I must go, evening has set in. I’m not feeling very well.”

Devdas turned and left.