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Annada Didi Since Didi left us I have wandered in many places but I have never again seen or heard of her. Nevertheless I still carry in my heart the image of her lovely face with its sweet, sad smile. Whenever I think of her and bow down my head to her blessed memory, I cannot help saying, 'What strange judgment is thine, O God! I can see that in this land, famous for ideal wives, sufferings heighten the glory of wifely constancy and love. I can also see how the sorrows of all such wives become transmuted into the eternal halo which makes their memory a constant inspiration and ideal of duty to the women of this country. But why didst Thou ordain such an ironical destiny for my Didi? Why should she, who had been faithful to her husband till his death, have her pure brow branded with the taint of infidelity? Why should she be banished from all society? What did she not sacrifice—her caste, her faith, society, honour, her all? She whose seat is as high as that of Sita or Savitri,—what did her parents and relatives, her friends and foes, think her to be to the end of their lives? A faithless wife and an abandoned woman! What hast Thou gained in this, O God, and what has the world gained?'

If I could only have known who her family and friends were! No matter how far away they lived I would have gone, had I known where to find them, and would have said, 'This was the Annada you know! Such was the imperishable story of her suffering life! If you can remember her whom you have regarded as a sinful woman and take her name once every morning, it will redeem you from many of your sins.'