As a boy, at Kamarpukur, I loved Ram Mallick
dearly. But afterwards, when he came here, I
couldn't touch him. Ram Mallick and I were great
friends during our boyhood. We were together day
and night; we slept together. At that time I was
sixteen or seventeen years old. People used to say,
"If one of them were a woman they would marry
each other." Both of us used to play at his house I
remember those days very well. His relatives used
to come riding in palanquins. Now he has a shop at
Chanak. I sent for him many a time; he came here
the other day and spent two days. Ram said he had
no children; he brought up his nephew, but the
boy died. He told me this with a sigh; his eyes were
rilled with tears; he was grief stricken for his
nephew. He said further that since they had no
children of their own, all his wife's affection had
been turned to the nephew. She was completely
overwhelmed with grief. Ram said to her: "You are
crazy. What will you gain by grieving?
Do you want to go to Benares?" You see, he called
his wife crazy. Grief for the boy totally 'diluted'
him.
J found he had no stuff within him. I couldn't
touch him.
No comments:
Post a Comment