'Why, don't girls want to see their parents even once?'
'No no, what am I saying?' Soukhi was more disappointed than Aprativ. His joy of returning home was halved in an instant. He had painted so many imaginary pictures of what the boy must have looked like while sitting in jail. He had stood for so long with his ear pressed to the door before knocking to hear how the boy talked to his mother. He thought that the naughty boy would definitely not be asleep by nine o'clock at night. He had decided in his mind that... he would go to his in-laws' house tomorrow to bring his son and daughter-in-law. It didn't seem right to tell his mother this now; otherwise, his mother would think again that the new wife had come and taken his son away.... Mother had been talking for so long; by now he had heard the last words.
'No, don't wash your hands and face.'
'No, no. I've eaten. You won't have to cook again tonight.'
'No, who's cooking? There's some rice. Don't eat. I don't know how much you've eaten.'
After finishing the business capital, he was going to bed when he suddenly noticed the tears on his mother's body.
To the blanket house.
'Give it to me there.'
Pushing aside the objection, Soukhi wrapped her new blanket around her mother's body.
Even though she lay down with a new blanket, the old woman did not want to sleep. Her feet did not get warm at all, her head was hot with worries about the state. The monotonous sound of Soukhi's snoring could be heard. After so long, the son came home; not where would he rest, but what would he give Soukhi to eat tomorrow morning, that was the old woman's main thought. She somehow left tonight with the khaimuri she had sold.... If he had said he wanted to eat two rice cakes, then there was no other way, without saying anything.... How much did Soukhi like to eat potatoes and chutneys? How long might he not have been able to eat in jail. Potatoes, rice, mustard oil, everything would have to be bought. Where would I get that much money? How could I tell a son to get up early in the morning and bring some money first, then I would cook it for him!...
....The clock in Kachari struck two.... Thinking about it, I can't find the shoreline....
I remembered that Peshkarsaheb's house was being rebuilt by a mason. When I went to sell my rice today, I saw that the collapsed northern wall was being rebuilt. The old woman got up from the bed and stomped out of the room.