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Updated: May 14, 2025
She thought: "Surja Mukhi rescued me in my time of distress, when but for her I should have been lost; now on my account she is an outcast. If I am not to be happy, it were better I had died." She perceived that happiness has limits. It is evening. Nagendra is lying on the couch; Kunda Nandini sits at his head fanning him. Both are silent. This is not a good sign.
Over the bookcases were the dwellings of insects; straws from the sparrows' nests on the glass of the chandeliers. In the house there was no mistress, and without a mistress paradise itself would be a ruin. As in an untended garden overgrown with grass a single rose or lily will bloom, so in this house Kunda Nandini lived alone. Wherever a few joined in a meal Kunda partook of it.
"And, O prince, the son of Gadhi, gratified with everything and applauding the cow named Nandini, addressed the Rishi, saying, 'O Brahmana, O great Muni, give me thy Naridini in exchange for ten thousand kine, or my kingdom. "Hearing these words of Viswamitra, Vasishtha said, 'O sinless one, this cow hath been kept by me for the sake of the gods, guests, and the Pitris, as also for my sacrifices.
Then raising her face, she said: "Oh, dearer than life, I will conceal nothing that is in my mind." Nagendra said: "You need not speak; I know that you suspect me of feeling love for Kunda Nandini." Surja Mukhi, hiding her face at the feet of her husband, wept.
The ghost-like shrubs, murmuring, asked, "Whither goest thou?" the fan palms rustled, "Whither dost thou go?" the owl's deep voice asked the same question. The window said, "Let her go no more will I show to her Nagendra." Then foolish Kunda Nandini gazed once more in that direction. Oh, iron-hearted Surja Mukhi, arise! think what you have done. Make the forlorn one return.
Gradually the old man's utterance became obscure, the breath left the throat, the eyes lost their light, the suffering soul obtained release from pain. In that dark place, by that glimmering lamp, the solitary Kunda Nandini, drawing her father's dead body on to her lap, remained sitting.
Then Nagendra, with noiseless steps, went forth from the doorway. It was night. In the ruined house Kunda Nandini sat by her father's corpse. She called "Father!" No one made reply. At one moment Kunda thought her father slept, again that he was dead, but she could not bring that thought clearly into her mind. At length she could no longer call, no longer think.
"Do you ask what do I want with the girl? I wish to give her in marriage with Tara Charan. You know how much I have sought for a suitable wife for him. If Providence has sent us a good girl, do not disappoint me. If Kamal will give her up, bring Kunda Nandini with you when you come. I have written to Kamal also recommending this.
Surja Mukhi hearing of this through others, gave to Tara Charan such a scolding, that from that time Debendra's visits were stopped. In this manner three years passed after the marriage; then Kunda Nandini became a widow. Tara Charan died of fever. Surja Mukhi took Kunda to live with her, and selling the house she had given to Tara Charan, gave the proceeds in Government paper to Kunda.
But even as she spoke, turning to look at the Boisnavi, she could not finish her speech, but said instead: "Oh, ma, what Boisnavi are you?" Looking up, all saw with astonishment that the Boisnavi was young and of exceeding beauty; in that group of beautiful women there was none, excepting Kunda Nandini, so beautiful as she.
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