Devdas

by Sarat Chandra Chattopadhyay

Parvati’s father was Nilkontho Chokrovorty, and he was Narayan Mukherjee’s neighbor, sort of. That’s to say, his brick two storey house stood near Narayan Mukherjee’s mansion, and he owned a couple of acres of land. He was comfortably off, and on visiting terns with the Mukherjees.

So in this way four years passed by. Devdas changed a little every year. He grew fashionable, wearing fine buttoned shirts, a gold watch and chain, and leather shoes. No longer did it satisfy him to fish in the river with a rude bamboo rod. Now he must take his gun and bring down a dozen birds. He talked of cricket and football and politics.

But Devdas ? Did he feel as Parvati did ? No, I’m afraid he did not. In childhood, he had been her playmate and master, but during the years in Calcutta, studies, amusements, distractions had absorbed him. He did not realize that Parvati , in her simple, undistracted life, thought constantly of him.

For these people, if fate is kind, the highest success is theirs; if luck is against them, they descend to the darkest depths of life, and there they lie like stones, blind to light and hope. To this latter class of people belonged Devdas.

Devdas hesitated, he even made to step aside, but in the next instant he sneered, “Aren’t we proud!” Parvati said,”And why not ? You can stand tall, and I can’t ? You have beauty, but lack brains, but I have both! Your father may be rich, and powerful, but my father is not a beggar either. No, I’m in no way less than you, do you understand ?” Devdas stood amazed.

great a beauty. It increases vanity and pride.” He paused,”That is why the beautiful moon has marks on it, that is why the black bee mars the beauty of the lotus by hovering on it. Your beautiful face deserves a mark too.”

“You two are so dissimilar, and yet so alike. One is proud-spirited, independent, the other so meek, so mild. One cannot bear any kind of injustice, or suffering, the other has borne so much, still bears so much. One has a great name, reputation, the other is vilified. She is loved by all, while no one loves you, save me. For I love you, I do indeed.”

Like a sick animal, Devdas was crawling away to die, and she would not see him again.

In this fashion, he wavered between Parvati and Chondromookhi. Sometimes he would imagine them both together as though they were bosom friends.

I don’t know how Parvati is. I’ve not had the heart to inquire after her. Only, I feel a great pity for Devdas. Perhaps, you do too, having heard my tale. Yet, if you chance to meet a hopeless, heedless sinner like Devdas, say a little prayer for him, that he will not suffer the kind of death Devdas did. Pray, not that he live, but that at the time of death a loving hand may gently touch his head, that he may behold a loving face as his eyes close upon this world.