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Updated: June 17, 2025
"Even if the sin were yours, Panchu," I mused aloud, "you have surely suffered enough for it already." "That is so, sir," he naively assented. "I had to sell part of my land and mortgage the rest to meet the doctor's bills. But there is no escape from the offerings I have to make the Brahmins." What was the use of arguing?
I wanted so badly to say to him: "Do come into our room and rest awhile; you look so tired." I had just cleared my throat with a little cough, when a servant hurried in to say that the Police Inspector had brought Panchu up to the palace. My husband, with the shadow on his face deepened, left his meal unfinished and went out. A little later the Bara Rani appeared.
When will come the time, I wondered, for the purification of the Brahmins themselves who can accept such offerings? After his wife's illness and funeral, Panchu, who had been tottering on the brink of starvation, went altogether beyond his depth.
But tell us, pray, finally, are you determined not to oust foreign articles from your market?" "I will not," I said, "because they are not mine." "Because that will cause you a loss!" smiled the M.A. student. "Because he, whose is the loss, is the best judge," retorted my master. With a shout of Bande Mataram they left us. Nikhil's Story A FEW days later, my master brought Panchu round to me.
This is the first funeral pyre lighted by your village in celebration of the last rites of foreign commerce. These are sacred ashes. Smear yourselves with them in token of your Swadeshi vow." "Panchu," said I, turning to him, "you must lodge a complaint." "No one will bear me witness," he replied. "None bear witness? Sandip! Sandip!" Sandip came out of his room at my call.
I sent for my husband. In the old days I could contrive a hundred and one excuses, good or bad, to get him to come to me. Now that all this had stopped for days I had lost the art of contriving. Nikhil's Story Panchu's wife has just died of a lingering consumption. Panchu must undergo a purification ceremony to cleanse himself of sin and to propitiate his community.
I had just made the discovery that it was useless to keep up a pretence of reading in my room outside, and also that it was equally beyond me to busy myself attending to anything at all so that all the days of my future bid fair to congeal into one solid mass and settle heavily on my breast for good when Panchu, the tenant of a neighbouring zamindar, came up to me with a basketful of cocoa-nuts and greeted me with a profound obeisance.
Being unable to find any other way out of it, I was thinking of allowing Panchu to hold a permanent tenure in my estates and building him a cottage on it. But my master would not have it. I should not give in to these nefarious tactics so easily, he objected, and offered to attend to the matter himself. "You, sir!" I cried, considerably surprised. "Yes, I," he repeated.
'Mother, said I, 'you are not going to get rid of me, even if you abuse me! And so long as I stay, Panchu stays also. For you see, do you not, that I cannot stand by and see his motherless little ones sent out into the streets? "She listened to my talks in this strain for a couple of days without saying yes or no. This morning I found her tying up her bundles.
In the meantime the thread of Panchu's little trade connections had snapped and he found he could not resume them. He clung on to the shelter of my master's roof, which had first received him on his return, and said not a word of going back home. "Look here, Panchu," my master was at last driven to say. "If you don't take care of your cottage, it will tumble down altogether.
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