The Garden of Beauty and

Kusum’s Coming of Age She seems a flower whose fragrance none has tasted, A gem uncut by workman’s tool, A branch no desecrating hands have wasted, Fresh honey, beautifully cool. No man on earth deserves to taste her beauty, Her blameless loveliness and worth, Unless he has fulfilled man’s perfect duty— And is there such a one on earth?¹¹⁹ The verse captures Kusum’s unsullied beauty. This was also the cause of Gunasundari’s anxieties. She was worried about both her daughters, albeit for very different reasons. She felt weighed down by the burden of this anxiety. Gunasundari had come to understand that for a mother the greatest pain was the suffering of a daughter. As a young bride she had been weighed down by the responsibilities of a large joint family, a burden she had borne with the generosity and largeness of heart expected of a householder. She had a natural, inborn quality of forgiveness, the forbearance of an intelligent woman and the patience and wisdom of the brave. With these qualities she had harnessed herself to her husband, run with him and become a co-sharer of his burdens, a partner. The family matters had been resolved. Gunasundari had remained alert, and her body supple and firm. Just around the time she had at last managed to disentangle herself from the web of the joint family, her husband had grown in both power and wealth. Her days of hardship seemed over. As the wife of the minister of Ratnanagari, Gunasundari enjoyed influence and riches. But now she was crushed by worry for her two daughters. The burden of a joint family and the hardships of a small income were nothing compared with the terrible weight of the sorrow and guilt that she now experienced. Kumud Sundari was born at a time when her parents were struggling with their household responsibilities. She was then married to a man who possessed no faculties to appreciate and enjoy the beauty of Kumud’s mind. While on the other hand, there was no man who could take delight in Kusum’s beauty. Gunasundari could not decide which of the two was a greater cause of worry for her. On her return from a visit to Mena Rani, she collapsed into an easy chair, covered her face with her sari and wept silent tears. Soon, gaining a measure of control over herself, she wiped her tears and spoke a verse in anger and in pain, as if seeking justice and reprimanding Pramaddhan. The natural place of a sweet-smelling flower is on the head: and not under trampling feet.¹²⁰ Pramaddhan, you failed to recognise virtue—how could you have taken pleasure in Kumud? The sweet, soft water of the river when mingled with the sea becomes salty. Those who understand virtue are capable of recognising and respecting it in others, or else virtues turn into defects. I have sinned. I have sinned greatly by sending my precious daughter, sweet as a river, to meet with