Two families live next door to each other. One is that of the very wealthy former gur merchant, Nabin Rai, who has two sons: Avinash, already married; and the unmarried Shekhar, a young lawyer. Next door, beyond a passage connecting the two houses (and households) lives Gurucharan, a poor clerk whose house has been mortgaged to Nabin Rai—Gurucharan was compelled to do so because he needed money for his daughter’s wedding, and Nabin Rai wants to take over his house, raze it, and build a mansion for Shekhar there instead.
But this isn’t a simple case of the hold of a wealthy man over a poor one, because there are other layers to this relationship. Through that passage between the homes go to and fro Gurucharan’s niece, Lalita, her cousin Annakali ‘Kali’, and anybody else who chooses to. And Lalita herself is as much a part of Nabin Rai’s household (even if he himself doesn’t know it) as anyone from the family. For the past five years, Shekhar has been teaching her, and his mother (whom Lalita calls ‘Ma’) loves Lalita as if the girl really was her own daughter. Plus, Lalita and Shekhar are very easy and comfortable with each other: she knows more about his possessions, his clothes and where he keeps them, than he does; she packs for him when he travels; she borrows money from him without asking; she traipses in and out of his room as she pleases, neatening, cleaning, reading.
Into this mix is thrown a young man newly arrived from Munger. Girindranath ‘Girin’ is the brother of a neighbour of Gurucharan’s, well-off, sociable, and quickly enamoured of Lalita.
Parineeta (which I read in its Hindi translation, published by Indian Press Limited) is a short novel, not even 120 pages long. The plot is simple, a love story nearly blighted by misunderstanding and pride and the fear of familial opposition. But the simplicity of the story in no way detracts from its readability. The characters are very well-etched, especially those of the three main protagonists, Lalita, Shekhar and Girin. And the nuances of human nature that come forth as the story progresses are a reflection of Sharat Chandra Chattopadhyay’s insight into the human heart and mind. Why Shekhar behaves as he does, the dilemma he faces, the way his feelings for Lalita change. Lalita’s own feelings and how she changes are less explicitly stated, but for all of that, she too comes across as a very believable character: a shy girl who metamorphoses into a young woman who has the courage enough to assert her rights, as she sees them.
The ‘believability’ of the characters and their situations also are a plus point of Parineeta. This is not melodrama, it is restrained. People behave the way real people tend to do, neither being unreasonably obstinate nor hell-bent on having their own way. The bad are not undiluted bad, the good are not angels. (Incidentally, Parineeta also offers an interesting insight into how Brahmo Samajis were regarded: and Chattopadhyay’s sympathetic depiction of Girin offers a glimpse of the author’s own feelings on the subject).
It is a little dated in some ways—Lalita, for example, is a mere thirteen years old when the book begins, and the most momentous event of the novel takes place at this time in her life. But in other ways, it’s a timeless tale of love of different types.