Deb had had enough. How much longer will he have to put up with titles like "good-for-nothing" the "best idler in the whole wide world" and other sorts ? No, he too will venture out to London and seek his success out there and would not return before he became a pucca Englishman.
He got out of bed, the latest one to wake up as usual and went straight to the drawing room where his father smoked fine cigars and his mother was cutting fruits for her husband.
"Baba !" said Debendra, in a fit to make a strong impression
"I shall go to London to become a barrister"
"Ha! As if...." said the impeccable Nagendranath and continued smoking
"I have made up my mind"
"I will tell you what you are thinking. You plan to go to London only to have fun....not study...take part in mindless parties and plays and eventually return with an English wife who....I believe will be, but a rich heiress".....said Deb's father in one single breathe.
"But, we will let you go on one condition. You have to get married before you go"...the mother spoke up.
"But mother..."
"This or nothing"
"Fine, I shall think about it"
Deb dashed back to his room and sat down. Closing his eyes, he tried to find a solution, clear his thoughts perhaps. But what did he see with his soul's eye ?- a little girl, sitting at the river stairs, gaily laughing at the flowing water, mocking it for being its own slave.
The river is arrogant. It flaunts it's strength by creating its own passage on the hard, dry crust and donating life and greenery as it moves on. But then it realizes, that it has to feel the brunt of it's own doing- it has to follow the same path for eternity- unless Nature lends a lending hand.
And thus the river is angry at the little girl, it suddenly starts swelling. The colour of the water turns grey and uglier. Giant trees and corpses float in it. Soon it rises up to the river stairs and engulfs the girl, whose screams are lost somewhere in the chaos.
That little girl is Charulata.
Deb stood up. Gravely he decided, it was time for the Teacher to demand his fees from the student. The Guru Dakshina.
YOU ARE READING
The Pact between us both
Short StoryIn a lonely river ghat of the Mighty Ganges, two honeyed flowers blossomed unnoticed.