Extract from Nabankur*
They come in a body to see her off, walking with her for a long way. Mother, Grandma, Aunt. She looks back again and again, and her eyes keep brimming over.
When all the rest have turned back, Mamata keeps standing still. The wind plays in her hair. The sari slips off her head--her eyes follow her departing daughter and then go vacant in thought. She seems no longer to be looking at the path her girl has taken, but peering misty-eyed far back into a past that speaks of failure.
The Chatim tree on the west bank of Bosepukur marks the end of the village. From there on, the road leads to the station. In childhood Chobi used to come and stand at this point sometimes, and stare and stare at the station road. A world stretching out to a limitless horizon seemed to beckon to her then. Chobi couldn't tell then where that road would lead to, or how far.
Today Phumani, Batashi, and the others are waiting for her by that roadside. They ask her, "You won't forget us, will you, when you get to the city? You won't forget the village?"
How can she forget? The smell of the grass, the changing scent of every season has become so much a part of her being…This village is a part of everything she holds precious…With Tamal's pledge, with Adhirkaka's eager encouragement. How can Chobi ever forget?
Sukhada's friend Umapati ,who has a job in Calcutta, has undertaken to escort her there. Pradip has been released from prison--he would be there to meet her at the station. Sukhada has come to put her on the train.
Kulada was not expected to be there, but he had come along anyway. There was something he had wished to say to Chobi. He had hovered around her restlessly up to the last minute, and still held his peace.
When t he guard blows his whistle, Kulada suddenly draws close, hesitates a little, and then says, "Tell him…tell Pradip to come home. He left in a huff…said he wouldn't come back unless I asked him to. Tell him…I asked."
Then he takes out a wad of notes and slips them into Chobi's hands. "Here, take this, divide it between yourselves. Write whenever you need anything…" Bit by bit all their faces blur. Chobi keeps staring right to the end. At last the station is left behind, and her tears suddenly spill over. She wipes them at the window and sits down quietly. Now another thought disturbs her suddenly. "Unless you go there, you won't get an idea of the world around"--somebody had told her that one day. Who was it?
What was in this world? Would Chobi find a place there? Would she survive in that selfish, ruthless, competitive atmosphere? The agitation she feels--is it joy, or sadness, or fear? What can you compare it to?
Gazing out of the window, the likeness suddenly hits her. It is with the pace of the train--the rhythm of movement.
Moving forward, that is the main thing--one must keep going.
And now, a new sense of eager expectancy fills her mind, her whole being.
***
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