Parineeta, the betrothed

Parineeta,the betrothed
(Short Story )
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Madhupur village, though far from the city, was not somuch undeveloped.With a post office and the proud presence of Madhupur High School, the village carried a quiet sense of self-respect. Barely two months ago, Pritilagna had joined this school as its headmistress.

The wall clock struck half past nine. After entering her chamber and taking her seat, Pritilagna asked Raghu Kaka, the peon to turn on the fan to full speed uttering "Kaka, It’s unbearably hot today.”

Raghu smiled and replied,
“You seem very busy today, Madam. Is everything all right? If there’s any problem, do let me know. You are new here, and you live alone—after all, you’re like my own daughter. That’s what worries me.”

With a gentle smile, Pritilagna looked at him and said,
“I’m grateful for your concern, Raghu Kaka. But from today, please don’t call me ‘Madam’. I’m of your daughter’s age. I don’t feel comfortable being addressed that way.”
Touched, Raghu replied,
“Daughter’s age? No—you’re like my own daughter. Still, in school you are our Headmistress. It is our duty to show respect to the Chair it commands . We have never had a headmistress like you before. Your sincerity, dedication, and personality naturally earn everyone’s respect.”
“Thank you, Kaka,” Pritilagna responded.With a little pause she said --
“and as regards the personal problems you asking Kaka I would say,when Malati Mausi is around me, what more comfort could I possibly ask for ? Thank you for bringing such a caring person into my life. She doesn’t let me do any household work at all—from cooking to washing utensils, clothes, cleaning the house, even tending the garden. She has turned my house into a sanctuary of peace and contentment.
She is blessed by mother Annapurna.The variety of dishes she prepares—you wouldn’t believe it unless you see it yourself. She sits beside me, urging me to eat this or that, asking how each dish tastes etc. Along with the food, her affection flows straight into my system . I feel as though my own mother is sitting beside me. Malati Mausi is truly God’s blessing upon me, Raghu Kaka.”
With respectful curiosity, Raghu asked,
“Why don’t you bring your mother here, Madam?”
Pritilagna fell silent. After a pause, she said softly,
“She cannot come, Raghu Kaka. There is no proper hospital here for treatment of my father and brother. It’s a long and painful story. Someday, when time permits, I’ll tell you everything.”

Raghu left the room. Standing by the window, Pritilagna sank into deep thoughts.The cruel drama enacted by fate in her life flashed back...

She is thirty-five now. Twelve years ago, she had been like a moonlit wave of the blue river—the University Queen of Vani Vihar. Her eyes shimmered with the seven colours of the rainbow; her heart was filled with dreams of an infinite, radiant future.
During a stage play at the university, she grew close to Pradosh. He played the hero; she, the heroine. As their on-stage romance unfolded, an unspoken attraction quietly bound their hearts off-stage as well.
Pradosh was the son of a wealthy industrialist, owner of a ferrochrome factory. He was handsome, and his character was pure—twenty-four-carat gold, tested on the measuring stone.

They pledged themselves to marriage. Pradosh’s parents adored Pritilagna and decided to make her their daughter-in-law without delay. The wedding date was fixed. Her younger brother, Animesh, was the happiest of all. Taking leave from college eight days before the wedding, he busied himself arranging the feast, the tent house, and every thing .
But time is cruelly unpredictable.
One evening, while returning home late on his scooter after finalising arrangements, Animesh was struck by a truck driven by a drunken driver. He survived but  lost one leg and his power of speech for ever.

The shock shattered the family. Seeing his young son crippled for life, Pritilagna’s father suffered a massive stroke and was confined to bed, paralysed.

For Pritilagna, the radiant full-moon night of her life suddenly turned into endless  darkness.
During those grim days, Pradosh stood firmly by her side. Leaving all factory responsibilities behind, he devoted himself day and night to caring for her father and brother. Yet even his strength could not stop the ocean of tears flowing from her eyes.
As days passed, the family sank into poverty. The sole bread earner lay paralysed. When Pritilagna applied for a government school job, Pradosh said,
“You don’t need to work, Priti. I’m ready to take responsibility for your family. Let us get married—everything will fall into place.”
That day, Pritilagna replied,
“Our marriage is no longer possible, Pradosh. Fate has played a cruel game with us. Thinking of our wedding in my family’s darkest hour would be selfish. My parents and my brother are my self-respect. I cannot make my dignity an object of charity in my in-laws’ home.
“The family whose love and sacrifices shaped me into what I am today—how can I abandon them now? If I did, even your respect for me would fade.”
After a pause, she added,
“Forget me, Pradosh. In this life, our union is not destined. I remained your love—but I could not become your bride.”
Tears streamed from Pradosh’s eyes.
“How could you say something so final so easily, Priti? You may come to terms with circumstances—but I cannot. I will wait for you all my life. If not in this birth, we will surely meet in another.”
A flood of tears drowned both hearts that day.
Soon after, Pritilagna joined a high school as a teacher.Three-years passed.Pradosh often visited her home to inquire about her father and brother. Society’s suspicious eyes noticed—and rumours spread. Finally, Pritilagna asked him not to come anymore.
“I am a teacher. We belong to a lower middle-class family. Our greatest wealth is our reputation and values. If those are lost, we cannot hold our heads high in society.”
From that day, Pradosh stopped visiting.
Twelve years passed. Pritilagna rose from an assistant teacher to the position of Headmistress. She crossed life’s shadows and light to reach a position of dignity. Yet her bond with Pradosh—like the moon and the chakor bird—grew distant, refined, and unbreakably deep.

Once, long ago, she phoned him and said,
“Why do you still suffer for me, Pradosh? I’ve freed you from this bond. Marry a good girl. If you wish, I’ll even help you find one.”

Pradosh replied,
“Priti, true marriage is not union of two bodies but of hearts. By that measure, we are already married. I do not value social rituals of marriage. Why are you so eager to free me from this bond? You are my Parineeta, the betrothed. How can I release you from such a sacred union?”
© Kulamani Sadangi