Jagdish Prasad Mandal (Original Maithili Short Story)
Rameshwar Prasad Mandal (English Translation)
Changing Thoughts, Diminishing Hope
Thoughts grow, and with them hope and faith grow as well. Just as they rise, they can also diminish. When one’s thoughts incline toward the good, toward noble ideas, hope and faith flourish. When they drift toward the base, toward ignoble ideas, hope and faith wither. Yet such a measure does not come easily to a person, for people rarely grasp the nature of events as they unfold. The reason is simple: human beings are prone to confusion. In confusion, the good may appear bad, and the bad may seem good.
In the village of Katharbouni, the family of Hridaynath had long been counted among the most prosperous and respected households, not only in the present day but for a full century past. Still, they were not considered the original inhabitants of the village, for Hridaynath’s great-grandfather had come from outside to settle there. His ancestors had arrived from the west, from Bhojpur, and made Katharbouni their home. For three generations, up to the time of Hridaynath’s grandparents, the family spoke only Bhojpuri. After settling in Mithila, the later generations gradually began speaking Maithili.
Hridaynath’s great-grandfather Krishnanand had served as a soldier in the Darbhanga estate. Even in that humble post, his mind was sharp and discerning, qualities that won him the estate’s trust. Later, Krishnanand was appointed Kamatia, the overseer of a vast tract of three thousand bighas of estate land. The responsibility for cultivation and upkeep rested on him, while collection of land revenue was handled by the Patwari, Mukund. As chance would have it, both Mukund and Krishnanand hailed from the same region and shared the same caste. In time, they became related by marriage, with one’s son marrying the other’s daughter.
Quarrels and reconciliations were nothing new to the Mithila region, and Katharbouni was no exception. With funds from the estate, Krishnanand had a three-bigha pond dug, and on the eastern embankment of that pond he built his home. The estate’s courthouse stood elsewhere, but the presence of that pond brought prestige to Krishnanand’s family, raising them to the ranks of the village’s honored households.
Time changed. The grandeur of the Darbhanga estate faded into memory.
Hridaynath was a sociable man, free even of the slightest trace of prejudice over the fact that his family had come from the west to settle here while the original inhabitants of Katharbouni were from other lineages. Like a native-born son of the soil, he took an active part in community affairs, whether funerals, weddings, or any public or religious event, offering his presence and assistance, which strengthened his social bonds. Being from a well-to-do household and also educated, he was regarded as one of the prominent figures of the village.
With his sound financial footing, he also engaged in the trade of grain and water, including moneylending and interest-based transactions. Most of the native families of Katharbouni had suffered repeated losses from floods and river erosion, forcing them to part with their lands and properties. As a result, the majority of villagers became poor and worked as sharecroppers to survive. Until that time, Hridaynath’s heart had not hardened enough to provoke social opposition; he continued to treat the natives with fairness. Yet he was well aware that his family stood apart in this place, having come alone from elsewhere to settle here.
Hridaynath had one son and three daughters. The daughters were married in the Bhojpur–Ara region of the west, but for his son’s marriage he resolved to choose a bride from Mithila. The reason was that by marrying into a Maithil family, the household would absorb Maithil customs into its own traditions, and relations with the Maithil community would deepen.
His son Manoj was a very intelligent and hard worker. He passed the matriculation examination in first division. Although a commerce student, his grasp of other subjects too was strong, and this helped him secure a good result. He enrolled at C. M. College for the Intermediate in Commerce, and alongside his regular classes, took private tuitions from college teachers. The reason for these tuitions was to build his backing, a network of connections.
With honors, Manoj completed his B.Com. in first division. While he was still pursuing his degree, Hridaynath began speaking of his marriage. In his mind was the wish that, just as his son was well educated, so too should his bride be educated.
Mithila remained, in many ways, unchanged. Men’s education had long been valued, but women’s education still lagged behind. Fortune favored them; a proposal came for a B.A.-educated girl, and the talks for Manoj’s marriage began.
The practice of dowry was not confined to Mithila alone; it existed everywhere. Yet here it had a certain distinction, since dowries were not uniform in value or form. In some castes the amounts were high, while in others they were relatively modest. For example, a B.A.-educated groom from one caste might command a far higher dowry than a similarly educated groom from another caste. Manoj belonged to a higher caste, so the expected dowry was naturally greater. After negotiations, the marriage was settled with an agreed dowry of thirty lakh rupees in cash.
Following the agreement, Manoj was married to a B.A.-educated young woman named Sheela. As in other marriages, family ties began to form between the two households, and the bond between Manoj and Sheela also grew. Along with the wedding came the custom of Duragaman, the ceremonial arrival of the bride at her husband’s home. In earlier times this would take place in an odd-numbered year after the wedding, one year, three years, or five years later. With changing times, Duragaman began to occur alongside the wedding itself, as was the case for Manoj and Sheela.
Being a commerce graduate, Manoj secured a job as an accountant in the state’s finance department. As a government employee, his salary was fixed according to official scales. In the modern climate, however, private-sector salaries, whether from domestic or international companies, often surpassed government pay. Manoj was on the lookout for better opportunities and was eventually offered an accountant’s position in an international firm. Resigning from his government post, he joined the private company.
The salary was generous, and the benefits impressive. Two years passed quickly. During that time Manoj and Sheela were blessed with a daughter.
Up to this point, their married life resembled that of most couples, ordinary in its outward harmony.
Yet beneath the surface there was a quiet rift between them. In Manoj’s mind was the ingrained belief in a husband’s authority, while in Sheela’s mind was the memory of the thirty lakh rupees her father had given as dowry. Sheela held to the notion that her father had, in effect, purchased her husband, whereas Manoj viewed the dowry as a customary social arrangement. Sheela’s father, Yogeshwar, was an inspector in the state police, while Manoj’s father, Hridaynath, was a prosperous farmer of high standing.
In Delhi, Manoj worked while living with his family. The company had provided them with accommodation. Yet Sheela did not treat him in the manner most Maithil wives treated their husbands. All household chores were left entirely to the maid. Manoj could see that Sheela lacked the warmth and attentiveness expected of a wife, but since their marriage appeared outwardly like any other, he kept his feelings to himself and endured it.
Life, however, has its own rhythm. Everyone wishes for a warm and trusting bond between husband and wife so that the family can live in peace. To lessen the restlessness in his mind, Manoj began drinking alcohol. Sheela noticed this change in her husband’s habits. She was aware that drinking altered a person’s behavior, and she could see this difference in Manoj, yet she chose to remain silent and bear it quietly. Being the daughter of a police officer, Sheela also had a strong belief that she could earn her own living if necessary.
Observing his wife’s manner, Manoj began to feel inwardly despondent. He often thought that his married life, which was meant to uphold both family responsibilities and social standing, should have been peaceful. He wished for a home where the years ahead, with children and parents together, would be filled with harmony, but he felt this was not happening.
The demands of Manoj’s job in the international company left him with little sense of time. His workload continued to grow. The office had its own canteen, so he often left home early in the morning and returned late at night. Disheartened by his wife’s attitude, he began spending more and more time away from home.
Five years after their wedding, the rift between Manoj and Sheela had grown so deep that they no longer wished to see each other.
Eight days before the Chhath festival, Manoj said to Sheela- “This year we will celebrate Chhath in the village.” Sheela readily replied- “That would be wonderful.”
Manoj then said- “When we go to the village, we will take all the festival items and clothes for my parents as well. Tomorrow we will finish all the shopping.”
The next morning Manoj and Sheela set out for the market with their four-year-old daughter walking between them. Manoj had drunk heavily. Sheela walked in front, the child beside her, while Manoj followed behind. At a narrow bend in the road, a truck approached from behind. As it came close, Manoj pushed Sheela. She fell beneath the rear wheels, and her life ended instantly.
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