Godan by Premchand

Author:Premchand [Premchand]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 8172242190
Publisher: Jaico Books
Published: 2013-02-03T18:30:00+00:00

The relations between Khanna and his wife Govindi were always strained. Why the relations were strained, is not so easy to say. Astrologers said there was a conflict in their stars, although before their marriage the pundits had taken every care to see that their horoscopes tallied perfectly. According to the science of love, there could be some other reason for the differences between husband and wife, and the psychologists would possibly have given their own version. But the fact remained that their relations were strained. Khanna was rich, handsome, sociable jovial, and educated; one of the top few people of the city. Govindi was no paragon of beauty, but by no means bad-looking: wheat complexioned, timid-eyed, soft pallor on cheeks and a faraway expression tinged with pride—an expression that disdained humdrum conventions and ways of life. Khanna had all that money could buy—a posh bungalow tastefully furnished, a streamlined car. And a positively unbelievable bank account! But these things had no significance for Govindi; in this rolling, delicious ocean, she remained thirsty. Bringing up the children and looking after the household, were her only interests; so engrossed was she in these that her mind never wandered to luxurious concoctions. She was not a toy: she had no desire to make herself look voluptuous. If her husband did not have the sense to see her intrinsic beauty and ran after gay "society" girls, that was his misfortune.

From her school days she had developed a love for "poetry". Even now she tried her hand at verse. But nobody appreciated her poetic effusions. Her poetry did not consist of mere flights of fancy. Every word reflected her doleful life and was nourished in her warm tears— in her longing to live in an Utopia where peace and bliss reigned. Khanna made fun of her poems and sometimes tore them up. The wall of wealth, rising higher, daily threatened their conjugal life. Polite and beaming with his clients, Khanna was systematically rude and inflammable at home. Politeness to him was no more than an appendage, a weapon to cheat the world with; it was not something ingrained in his character. Often, in a rage, he would speak harshly to Govindi. On such occasions, Govindi would retire to her room and pass the night weeping, while Khanna sat in the drawing room relishing music, or dashed off to the club on a drinking spree. In spite of this Khanna was everything to her. Even after having fallen from grace, she was his slave. She could not think of life without him.

Mr. Khanna must have seen an ominous face on waking up, for when he opened the morning paper he found that many of his shares had registered a sharp decline. The workers of the Sugar Mil had struck; he apprehended further trouble. He had bought silver in the hope of selling it at a profit, but its price had fallen. He had been negotiating a deal with the Rai Saheb, but the Rai Saheb kept procrastinating.

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