“Because of me, you are all going through such hardship. You have to feed me, give me water, and look after me day and night, and yet I am of no use to you. I am truly unfortunate! What can I do?” Nimaane said to his wife, his voice heavy with sorrow.

“What are you saying? If you lose heart like this, then on whom will Purushottam rely for support? How can you give up your courage? You must not let your mind be troubled. In your home, I have enjoyed every happiness. You have never let me lack for anything. Now, even if these are days of poverty, so be it. I have never longed for those days of prosperity, and even if I did, you have not been able to bring them back. But with my own eyes, I have seen those happy days, and my soul is content.”

“You are a good woman. Isn’t Sakhu coming? She will take good care of you,” her husband said, trying to comfort her.

“Why should I show any more false hope? All this strength is hollow from within. If, while you are still here, death comes to me and I die in your arms, then my life will have been fulfilled. In the form of a wife, I have found salvation. That is the greatest happiness, the greatest joy. In difficult times, it is thoughts of you that come to my mind. After I am gone, who will you have for support?” As she said this, she placed her trembling hand on her husband’s knee. Her body was burning with fever. Even as she spoke, she was truly—

She asked her brother to give her some water. He gave her water to drink.

"The water from your hands is like the sacred Ganga, the pure Ganga, sweet as nectar itself. Today, do not go anywhere. Just sit by my side. I will close my eyes and think only of you," she said, taking her brother's hand in hers and closing her eyes. That scene was as if the very water of the heart was flowing out.

When the house and property were seized, Durva's grandmother was not at home. Who knows where she had gone. She returned, and that very day, she fell ill and was bedridden with a high fever. Who was there to care for her? Grandmother did whatever she could manage. When grandmother went to eat, there was no one to take her food to her, so she asked Purushottam to stay in the house. The neighbor Radha-bai, Janaki-vahini, and Namu-maushi would come and help with whatever little chores they could.

Now, all work had come to a halt. Even the few coins that came in had stopped. Because of this, everyone in the house felt the pinch of want. When Durva's grandmother was at home, everyone would vent their anger on her. Bhau would calm everyone and say to her, "Dwaraka-kaku, cook the nikhate rice and serve it, but do not make a fuss. Our honor is already lost. Do not add to our troubles."

That day, Aai asked Purushottam to take Indu and send a postcard to Afu. She told her everything—about their troubles, and asked her to write a letter to her elder sister. Now it seemed as if even that last support was slipping away. She told Indu everything. As she said, Indu wrote the letter and addressed the card, and Purushottam was told to drop it in the postbox. Indu, after doing this, returned home.

Aai then asked Purushottam for water to drink. He gently put the water to her lips. Just then, Janaki-vahini arrived. She inquired about Aai's health and hurried to massage her feet. But Aai only asked her to sit by her side. She went home with Purushottam.

He had sent the boy to the barber. The boy brought it back, and I put a small morsel into mother’s mouth. I sat beside her. But mother sent the boy outside to play.

In the evening, Namumaushi came by. She was mother’s childhood friend. She had been given in marriage to this very village. The two of them chatted together for a long time. She would often come to visit Shyama’s mother. Her health was not what it used to be. Her feet would swell. Whenever she came, Shyama’s mother would inquire after her health. Later, Namumaushi asked after mother’s health. She touched mother’s wrist and said, “You have no strength left, have you? You’ve become so frail!”

“Namu, send some clarified butter to your husband Purushottam and a little oil for him as well. There’s not a drop left in the house. Dwarakakaku is growing old. There’s no need to tell you. You understand everything. You know what it is to be poor. But you are not a stranger to me,” mother told her.

“All right, I’ll send it. Don’t worry. You take everything so much to heart! That’s your real illness. Take care of the children. Be brave. You will get better,” Namumaushi said.

“There is no wish left to live now. I have endured enough,” mother replied.

“Don’t say such inauspicious things at dusk. Wait, I’ll cook some rice gruel and bring it for you,” Namumaushi said.

“There’s no more shame left in this life. It’s better to close my eyes,” mother said, closing both her eyes.

“Why do you say such things? You will get better. You will see good days again. Gajanan and Shyam are growing up. Has Gajanan found a job?” Namumaushi asked.

“Gajanan has found a job a month ago. But he gets only nineteen rupees…”

Salary. What he earned in Mumbai, and what he sent here? For teaching. He sent five rupees. He kept only a little for himself, and sent the rest to me,” Mother explained.

“Did Shyam understand this?” Aunt Namoo asked Mother.

“He doesn’t need to know all this, I said. He is always busy with his studies there.