chapter 37

It was a crisp autumn morning when the messenger arrived at the Chowdhury household, bringing news that Sarojini, Binodini’s elder sister, would be visiting. The announcement rippled through the estate like a sharp wind, carrying with it a tension that was as palpable as the scent of drying hay in the fields.Binodini stood on the veranda, holding her infant son, Indranil, close. The message had come as a surprise—Sarojini had not visited since Binodini’s wedding, five years ago. Their relationship, already fraught with unspoken words and lingering resentments, had only grown more distant with time. The thought of seeing her sister again filled her with a curious mix of dread and determination.Ashutosh joined her on the veranda, his calm presence grounding her. "Are you worried about Sarojini’s visit?" he asked, his voice gentle but probing.Binodini turned to him, her eyes clouded with apprehension. "She has always harbored resentment toward me. I fear her arrival will reopen wounds that were never allowed to heal."Ashutosh placed a reassuring hand on her shoulder. "Perhaps this is an opportunity to address those wounds, Bini. Sometimes the echoes of the past must be confronted before they can be silenced."---Sarojini arrived the following afternoon, stepping down from the palanquin with an air of weary pride. Clad in a simple white sari that marked her widowhood, she carried herself with a dignity that belied the bitterness in her heart. Her sharp eyes scanned the estate, taking in the grandeur of the Chowdhury household—a stark contrast to the modest home she had been banished to after her husband’s untimely death."Binodini," she greeted, her tone clipped as she stood before her younger sister."Sarojini Didi," Binodini replied, her voice steady but cautious. She gestured toward the veranda. "Come inside. You must be tired after the journey."As they sat in the drawing room, the air between them was heavy with unspoken words. Kusumlata and Nayana, sensing the tension, made themselves scarce, leaving the sisters alone to navigate the delicate terrain of their reunion."You’ve done well for yourself," Sarojini said, her gaze sweeping over the ornate furnishings and polished floors. Her voice held a note of bitterness, though she masked it with a faint smile.Binodini met her gaze evenly. "I have been fortunate, yes. But fortune is not without its burdens, Didi."Sarojini’s smile faded. "Burdens? You speak of burdens while living in a house like this, with a husband who adores you and a child in your arms? What burdens could you possibly know?"The words stung, but Binodini refused to be cowed. "Do you think my life is without trials? Do you think I have not had to earn my place here, prove my worth every single day?"Sarojini’s eyes flashed with anger. "And yet, you live as a zamindar’s wife, while I am left to rot in the village, shunned by in-laws who blamed me for my husband’s death. Do you know what it’s like to be treated as a burden, to live on the charity of others?"Binodini’s voice softened, though her resolve remained firm. "I do not claim to know your pain, Didi. But I do know that bitterness will not ease it."Sarojini’s lips trembled, and for a moment, the mask of pride she wore slipped. "I was the elder sister, Bini. It was my duty to marry well, to secure a future for our family. But instead, it was you who was chosen, you who became the pride of our parents."Binodini took a deep breath, steadying herself. "Do you think I asked for this? Do you think I wished to leave our home and everything I knew, to be thrust into a world where I was an outsider? I have done my best, Didi, just as you have. Why must we be rivals when we are sisters?"The question hung in the air, heavy with the weight of years of misunderstanding and jealousy. Sarojini looked away, her shoulders slumping as the fight drained out of her. "I was angry, Bini. Angry at the world, at my fate, at you. But it was not your fault."Binodini reached across the table, taking her sister’s hand in hers. "We cannot change the past, Didi. But we can choose to move forward. Let us not allow bitterness to define our relationship any longer."For a moment, Sarojini said nothing, her gaze fixed on their clasped hands. Then, slowly, she nodded. "Perhaps it is time to let go of the past. But it will take time, Bini. Wounds do not heal overnight."Binodini smiled, a flicker of hope igniting in her heart. "Time is something we have, Didi. And I am willing to wait."---As the days passed, the tension between the sisters began to ease. Sarojini, though still guarded, started to soften as she spent time with her nephew, Indranil. She marveled at the baby’s tiny hands and bright eyes, her laughter ringing through the house as she played with him.One evening, as they sat together in the courtyard, Sarojini turned to Binodini. "You are a good mother, Bini. Indranil is lucky to have you."Binodini’s eyes glistened with unshed tears. "Thank you, Didi. That means more to me than you know."Sarojini smiled, a genuine warmth in her expression for the first time in years. "Perhaps there is hope for us yet."Binodini nodded, her heart swelling with a mixture of relief and gratitude. The echoes of the past, though not fully silenced, had begun to fade. In their place, a new harmony was slowly taking root—one built on understanding, forgiveness, and the unbreakable bond of sisterhood.