Devdas remained quietly at home for the next six months. He found no peace, however, in this quiet life. His inherently restles nature chafed against the humdrum village life, chafed against the narrow, set-in-stone ways of his brother and sister-in-law. On top of it all, he was constantly reminded of Parvati, wherever he went in the village, he was reminded of her.

Devdas’s mother was chafing almost as much as he was. With the death of her husband, the light had gone out of her life. After the first days of grief had passed, she began to find time hanging heavy on her hands. Her daughter-in-law, was the mistress of the house now, and had taken over all the household duties. More and more, she began to think of moving to the holy city of Benaras and living a life of contemplation and meditation, possibly in one of those communities that existed for elder ladies or widows like herself. Yet she could not venture on this course of action – there was Devdas to think of. She wanted to say to him, “Devdas, get married, settle down. Then I can go to Benaras and live in peace.” Yet, of course, she could not. The period of mourning was not over, marriages could not be performed during this time, and, besides, there was all the business of finding a suitable bride. These days, she would think regretfully of Parvati, a marriage with her would not have been so bad, after all. So it went on in this way, until after one particularly tiresome day, she summoned Devdas to say, “ I can’t stand it here any more. It may be a good idea to go to Benaras for a while.”

Devdas agreed at once. “I feel the same way. Six months seems like enough time to come back here.”

“Yes, dear, let’s do that. After six months we can return to complete the mourning ceremonies, and after that, I can see you married, and I will return to Benaras to live.”

Devdas took his mother to Benaras and having established her there, he returned to Calcutta. For a few days there, he went in search of Choony. Choony was nowhere to be found, having changed his residence and leaving no forwarding address. One evening, Devdas remembered Chondromookhi. Why not visit her? He had forgotten about her until now. A little embarrassed, he hailed a cab and arrived at her house. He rang and called for what seemed a very long time, before a woman’s voice answered, “Not here.”

Standing by a nearby lamp-post, Devdas called up, “Can you tell me where she is?”

The window opened and a voice asked,”Are you Devdas?”

“Yes.”

“Wait, I’ll open the door.”

Presently the door opened, and the voice said “Come!”

The voice was familiar, yet not as he remembered it, plus it was dark inside.

Suspiciously, he asked, “Can you tell me where Chondromookhi is?”

The woman smiled. “I can. Come upstairs.”

Now Devdas