Free Greatest Short Stories by Mulk Raj Anand

soon as her mother-in-law realised that she, Lajwanti, had not returned from the well for more than two hours. And he had a bicycle.
    ‘Come then my little Maina, we shall soon be there…’

    The exalted bungalows of the police lines of Gurgaon, sequestered behind hedges, under tall trees, quenched the thirst of her eyes. The green leaves of neem trees were like cool sherbet to her spirit. And there seemed to be a confectioner’s shop where she might be able to drink a tumbler of whey and give the Maina a little feed and water.
    Somehow, the last lap of a foot journey is always the most arduous. Her legs seemed to drag along. And the burning on the exposed parts of her soles became unbearable. And the echo augury about Jaswant catching up on her enveloped her mind. And she was nearly at the end of her tether. And yet she pushed forward, as though she was possessed by the demon of flight.
    There was a moment of weakening as the Maina became utterly still; and, without looking to see, she felt that the bird might have fainted with the heat and died.
    And in the panic of this premonition, she felt the chords of guilt choke her dry throat: She might have borne the humiliation. She might have given in to Jaswant. She could have closed her eyes. Her husband Balwant was away at College. Her benevolent father-in-law would not have known. And the mother-in-law, who wanted son’s son, more than anything else, would not have worried, even if she had come to know, because she favoured Jaswant, who worked on the land and not Balwant who wanted to be a clerk.
    ‘Talk to me Maina… Don’t go away from me… If you go I too will be finished…’
    As the bird did not even flutter, her heart seemed to sink, and the sweat just poured down her body.
    ‘Maybe, I am being superstitious,’ she said to herself. ‘I should have done a magic ceremony on the cross-roads of Hauz Khas to ensure my safe arrival in Pataudi. And, then God would have kept my enemies dispersed…’
    Destiny spread the length of dumb distance before her, however. And, facing the emptiness, she felt as though the whole earth was opposed to her. And she wanted to kneel down before the Almighty for all the sins for which she was being punished.
    ‘Oh gently, gently, show me the path!’ she cried out in her soul.
    At that juncture, she heard the sinister shout of Jaswant: ‘Stop, mad woman, or I shall kill you!’
    She did not look back, because she knew the authentic accent of her brother-in-law’s voice. She merely ran, with the instinct to fly, to get away, out of his reach, to the group of men who were resting by the confectioner’s shop.
    The Maina bird fluttered its wings wildly. And now that it apprehended disaster, it shrieked and cried.
    ‘Stop…’ The voice of doom repeated itself.
    Descending into the pit of confusion. Lajwanti was lost in the primal jungle of turmoil. The tortures of hell awaited her. But, perhaps she could make it.
    “Lajwanti,” Jaswant called in a more mellow voice.
    This startled her, weakened her, and made her regret she had not given in.
    She fairly ran, about twenty yards before the confectioner ’s shop. Jaswant passed by her, on his bicycle. Then he descended and, putting the machine athwart, barred her way.
    Lajwanti conjured up in her downcast eyes the smile of horror that beamed on his heavy, pockmarked face.
    She swerved away and outflanked him by diving into the ditch and making for the confectioner’s shop from the side of the depression.
    He dragged the bicycle and raced up to her.
    After he had reached the confectioner’s shop, he dropped the machine and ran towards her with an enveloping movement.
    Lajwanti fell into his outstretched arms almost like a willing victim.
    But once she became aware of the hard embrace of the wild beast, she recoiled back, to free herself.
    Again she ran.
    Startled, he turned and chased her, catching, her by the headcloth before she could sit down on the wooden bench by the