chapter 34

Spring ripened into early summer, the air heavy with the mingling scents of ripening mangoes and blooming jasmine. The days lengthened, and so did the anticipation in the Chowdhury household. Preparations for the arrival of Binodini and Ashutosh’s child had turned the grand estate into a hive of activity. Every corner seemed to hum with purpose, as if the very walls were eager to welcome new life into their midst.The women of the house had taken it upon themselves to ensure that everything was perfect for the new arrival. Under Kusumlata’s watchful eye, the family’s old traditions were dusted off and brought to life, but there was a softer undercurrent of modern understanding that Nayana and Kantimoyee brought into the fold. Binodini, though young and modern in her own quiet way, had readily embraced these customs, trusting in the wisdom of those who had walked the path of motherhood before her.The morning sunlight filtered into the drawing room, where Binodini sat on a low divan, her hands busy with an embroidery hoop. The soft sheen of her gold-bordered white sari caught the light, her veil modestly covering her head. Nayana sat beside her, carefully sifting through tiny garments that had been sewn for the baby."This one is too loose," Nayana remarked, holding up a small tunic and squinting at it critically. “Who stitched this? Ramu’s wife? She clearly doesn’t know the difference between a baby and a scarecrow.”Binodini laughed softly, a hand resting on her round belly. “Didi, you’re being unkind. She worked hard on it. Besides, the baby will grow into it, no?”“Grow into it? Do you plan to keep your child wrapped in this tent until his wedding day?” Nayana teased, folding the garment and setting it aside.Kantimoyee entered then, carrying a tray laden with glasses of cool bael sherbet and a small plate of sweets. Her face, usually calm and composed, wore a rare expression of excitement. “Binodini, drink this first. The bael will keep you cool in this heat,” she said, placing the tray down and seating herself on the floor.“Didi,” Binodini began hesitantly, setting aside her embroidery, “How does one know... if one is ready? For motherhood, I mean?”Kantimoyee, who had been delicately balancing a piece of sandesh on her palm, paused mid-bite. “Ah, that is the question, isn’t it? But let me ask you this: were you ready when you became the youngest daughter-in-law of this household? Were you ready when you stood before Ma and Babaji, trying to earn your place here?”“No,” Binodini admitted. “I was terrified.”“And yet, here you are. Loved, respected, and indispensable,” Kantimoyee said, smiling warmly. “Motherhood, I think, is much the same. You learn as you go.”Nayana leaned forward, her eyes sparkling mischievously. “But don’t let her fool you with her wise words. There will be days when you feel like you’re drowning in responsibilities, when the baby won’t stop crying, and you’ll wonder if you’ve made a mistake. That’s when you come to me and cry your heart out.”Binodini’s laugh broke the tension in the room. “I shall hold you to that promise, Didi.”As the morning passed into afternoon, the household buzzed with preparations. In the courtyard, Kusumlata was overseeing the construction of a new crib, intricately carved from teak wood. The family carpenter, now aged and slightly stooped, worked with careful precision, pausing occasionally to consult Kusumlata’s instructions.“This crib must last for generations,” Kusumlata declared, her voice authoritative. “My great-grandchild will sleep in it, and so will his children. No shortcuts, Dhondu. You understand?”“Yes, Ma’am,” Dhondu replied, wiping his brow and continuing his work.Ashutosh arrived home shortly after, his presence announced by the jangle of horse hooves on the cobblestones. He stepped into the courtyard, his kurta slightly crumpled and his face lined with fatigue. Yet, his eyes softened when they fell upon Binodini, who had come to the veranda to greet him.“How is my queen today?” he asked, his voice low and tender.Binodini smiled shyly, her cheeks flushing. “I’m well, but you look exhausted. Come inside and rest.”Ashutosh waved a dismissive hand. “No, I must see the progress of the preparations first. Is everything in order, Ma?”Kusumlata turned to her son, her hands on her hips. “Everything is in order because we women are managing it. You men only arrive to inspect and criticize.”“I wouldn’t dare criticize,” Ashutosh said with a grin, raising his hands in mock surrender. “But I did bring something that may earn your forgiveness.”He gestured to a servant who entered carrying a bundle wrapped in soft muslin. As the servant unfolded it, the family gasped in delight. It was a finely woven blanket, dyed in shades of gold and crimson, with delicate embroidery of peacocks and lotus flowers.“It’s beautiful,” Binodini whispered, running her fingers over the fabric.“For the baby,” Ashutosh said, his voice filled with pride. “I had it commissioned in Calcutta. It’s made from the finest silk.”Kusumlata nodded approvingly, her earlier sternness melting away. “You’ve done well, Ashutosh. This will keep the child warm in the cold months.”As the day stretched into evening, the family gathered in the drawing room for tea. Kantimoyee recounted stories from her own days of early motherhood, describing the joys and challenges with humor and candor.“And then there was the time your Babaji tried to swaddle Nayana,” she said, her laughter filling the room. “He ended up wrapping her so tightly, she looked like a stuffed paratha!”The room erupted in laughter, even Kusumlata unable to suppress a chuckle. Binodini leaned against Ashutosh, her heart full as she listened to the light-hearted banter.Later that night, as the household settled into a peaceful quiet, Binodini sat by the window of her chamber, gazing at the moonlit gardens below. Ashutosh joined her, pulling a chair close and taking her hand in his.“Are you scared?” he asked gently.“A little,” she admitted. “But I’m also excited. I want to be a good mother, Ashutosh. I want our child to feel loved and safe.”He squeezed her hand reassuringly. “You will be a wonderful mother, Binodini. You already are. And I will be by your side, always.”As the night deepened, the couple sat together, their hearts brimming with anticipation for the life they were about to welcome. The stars above seemed to twinkle brighter, as if bearing witness to the love and hope that filled the Chowdhury household.