Page:Tales of Bengal (Sita and Santa Chattopadhyay).djvu/44

Tales of Bengal I was a mere child when I had last seen her: I called to mind her tear-stained face, but my own eyes remained dry. Why should I weep for a mother who had given me away? Even the street beggars share their poverty with their children, but my mother had not done even that. I hardened my heart. Why should I weep and tremble for anything or anybody? I chased away all the dark shadows from my heart.

But from that day the light of joy which had filled my universe began to fade fast. I began to get dispirited and dull. I refused to go out of the house, and frittered away the time in useless and trivial tasks. You seemed surprised at my behaviour; sometimes you even asked the reason. I laughed in answer, but the laughter was becoming hollow and insincere.

A few days passed in this way. Then one day in the morning you entered grandfather's room and spent two or three hours there. I do not know what you told each other, but as soon as you left the room I was sent for. As I entered he turned slowly round and said, "My child, my days are numbered. Before passing away I have something to say to you and Shankar. To him I have told all I had to say. Besides, he is a man, he can very well look after himself. But I am anxious for you, my darling."

He ceased to speak and gazed intently at me. I sat still with beating heart and averted face.

After a time he began again: 'My darling child, perhaps you do not know how much I love you. My love for you is no whit less than the love I feel for Shankar. The day when I deserted this house and left it ruined and desolate, I did so, swearing not to love anybody again in this world. Love is a never-ending source of suffering and agony. But your face made me break my promise. The heart never remains empty for long; some one or other creeps into it and establishes a new sway. Such is the law Rh