It has been two years since Chondromookhi has moved to the village of Oshothjhuri. She lives in a two-roomed cottage that stands on a little hill, at the foot of which winds a brook. Behind the cottage is a cowshed, in which stands a well-fed and contented cow. One of the rooms of the cottage serves as a kitchen, pantry , and dining room, the other is Chondromookhi’s bedroom. There is a veranda, and a neat little courtyard, kept neat and clean by Roma Bagchi’s daughter, who comes daily to tend to it. A fence surrounds the little property, within whose boundary stands a kool-tree, and some tulsi bushes. A pleasant view of the river faces the cottage, and Chondromookhi has had date palms planted, and steps built, to lead down to the water’s edge, and a short walkway by the river. During the rainy season, the little river swelled up and rose beyond the topmost step. The agitated village folk came in a hurry; bringing earth, and their shovels, they constructed a wall so that the water would stop there, and not find its way into Chondromookhi’s dwelling. No gentlefolk live in this village. They are farmers, cowherds, a smith, a shoemaker, a few small craftsmen. When Chondromookhi settled in this village, she sent news to Devdas. He replied by sending her more money. This money Chondromookhi lends out to the villagers, though ‘give’ may describe it better than lend! Chondromookhi does not charge interest – instead she gets the occasional banana or turnip or whatever. She does not badger them for the capital either. They pay when they can.

Chondromookhi laughs and says, “I’ll not lend to you again.”

They reply , ” My lady, bless us, so we will have a good harvest.” And Chondromookhi blesses them! Sometimes the harvest is bad, and the taxman comes for the tithe and again they come to Chondromookhi and again she gives. She thinks to herself,”Only let him live! I have no need for money.”

But where is he? It has been six months since she has heard from him. There is no reply to her letters, a registered letter was returned ‘address unknown’.

There is one particular family in the village that is especially indebted to her. She has bought them a new plough. The wole family is devoted to her. So one morning, Chondromookhi called Bhoirov the farmer (for such was his name), and questioned, “Bhoirov, how far is Tal-Sonapur from here?”

Bhoirov had to think. “About two meadows or so”, he said finally.

Chondromookhi asked, “Does the manor-lord live there?”

Bhoirov said, “Yes, indeed. He is the Zamindar for this area and this village belongs to him too. But he died three years ago. For his funeral, we tenants could eat for free for a whole month at his house if we wanted to. He left two sons, they are tremendously wealthy – like kings.”

Chondromookhi said, “Bhoirov, can you take me there ?”

Bhoirov replied, “Of