Short Stories By Rabindranath Tagore

Profit and Loss

When a daughter was born, after five sons, her parents dotingly named
her Nirupama.
Such a high-flown name had never been heard in the
family before. Usually names of gods and goddesses were used – Ganesh,
Kartik, Parvati and so on.
The question of Nirupama’s marriage now arose. Her father
Ramsundar Mitra searched and searched without finding a groom he
really liked; but in the end he procured the only son of a grand
Raybahadur. The ancestral wealth of this Raybahadur had diminished
considerably, but the family was certainly noble. They asked for a dowry
of 10,000 rupees, and many additional gifts. Ramsundar agreed without
a thought – such a groom should not be allowed to slip through one’s
fingers. But no way could he raise all the money. Even after pawning,
selling, and using every method he could, he still owed 6,000 or 7,000
rupees; and the day of the wedding was drawing near.
The wedding-day came. Someone had agreed to lend the rest of the
money at an extortionate rate of interest, but he failed to turn up on the
day. A furious scene broke out in the marriage-room. Ramsundar fell on
his knees before the Raybahadur, implored him not to bring bad luck by
breaking off the ceremony, insisted he would pay him in full. ‘If you
can’t hand the money to me, now,’ replied the Raybahadur, ‘the
bridegroom will not be brought here.’
The women of the house wept and wailed at this disastrous upset. The
root cause of it sat mutely in her silk wedding-dress and ornaments, her
forehead decorated with sandal-paste. It cannot be said that she felt
much love or respect for her prospective husband’s family.
Suddenly the impasse was resolved. The groom rebelled against his
father, saying firmly, ‘This haggling and bartering means nothing to me.
I came here to marry, and marry I shall.’
‘You see, sir, how young men behave these days,’ said his father to
everyone he turned to.
‘It’s because they have no training in morality or the Shastras,’ said some of the oldest there. The Raybahadur sat despondent at seeing the
poisonous fruits of modern education in his own son. The marriage was
completed in a gloomy, joyless sort of way.
As Nirupama left for her in-laws’ house her father clasped her to his
breast and could not hold back his tears. ‘Won’t they let me come and
visit you, father?’ she asked. ‘Why shouldn’t they, my love?’ said
Ramsundar. ‘I’ll come and fetch you.’
Ramsundar often went to see his daughter, but he had no honour in
his son-in-law’s house. Even the servants looked down on him.
Sometimes he saw his daughter for five minutes in a separate outer room
of the house; sometimes he was not allowed to see her at all. To be
disgraced so in a kinsman’s house was unbearable. He decided that
somehow or other the money would have to be paid, but the burden of
debt on his shoulders was already hard to control. Expenses dragged at
him terribly; he had to resort to all sorts of petty subterfuges to avoid
running into his creditors.
Meanwhile his daughter was treated spitefully at every turn. She shut
herself into her room and wept – a daily penance for the insults heaped
on her family. Her mother-in-law’s assaults were especially vicious. If
anyone said, ‘How pretty the girl is – it’s a pleasure to look at her,’ she
would burst out, ‘Pretty indeed! Pretty as the family she came from!’
Even her food and clothing were neglected. If a kind neighbour
expressed concern, her mother-in-law would say, ‘She has more than
enough,’ – implying that if the girl’s father had paid full price she would
have received full care. Everyone treated her as if she had no rights in
the household, and had entered it by deceit.
Naturally news of the contempt and shame his daughter was suffering
reached Ramsundar. He decided to sell his house. He did not, however,
tell his sons that he was making them houseless: he intended to rent the
house back after selling it. By this ploy, his sons would not know the
true situation till after his death. But his sons found out. They came and
protested vigorously. The three elder boys, particularly, were married
and probably had children: their objections were so forceful that the sale
was stopped. Ramsundar then started to raise money by taking out small
loans from various quarters at high interest – so much so, that he could
no longer meet household expenses.