Dara decided, that for the sake of her child, she would become free.

Late in the afternoon, as the sun dipped behind the tall buildings of Mathurapuri, the lanes and alleys became shaded. Dara, bedraggled and exhausted, holding Shakul to her breasts, bereft of milk, once again wandered the streets and lanes of the city. In the shade of the tall buildings, the roads had come back to life.

‘Citizen,’ Dara stopped a passer-by and asked, ‘could you tell me the way to the prostitutes’ quarter?’

‘Why would you be interested in prostitutes, woman?’ asked another man jocularly, as he overheard her question.

‘I want to become a prostitute,’ Dara replied, trying to hold up the child in her tired arms.

At this, the man, seeing the expression on Dara’s face, fell silent. But another passer-by, hearing this, pointed to Dara’s shrunken face and unkempt hair, her sunken eyes and threadbare, dirty clothes and roared with laughter, ‘Surely, she will make a fine prostitute! What beauty! What charm! What class! If she becomes a prostitute, the lovers of beauty in Mathurapuri will forget all about Ratnaprabha, whom they just idolize.’

The one who had jeered at Dara earlier came closer to her and said, ‘Do you really want to be a prostitute? But you are a mother! You have gained a position that entitles you to honour and respect, and you want to give it up and become an enemy of society? You want to sell your body and the virtue of your motherhood for money? You’re done for. Someone has sucked you dry and thrown away the husk of your body. You have no attractions left; all that is there is your misfortune. Why cling to life? You’ve been drained of all spirit. You are unfit to go on living. The meek have no right to live. Your destiny is to drown yourself in the Yamuna river … Go!’

Dara had not recognized the speaker at first. His face was covered with dust and a growth of beard after a long journey. But she identified him from his voice. She wanted to call out his name, but the young man did not give her the chance and went on speaking in a disgusted tone, ‘If you want to sell your body just to be able to feed your child, then go you ill-fated soul, go to the banks of the Yamuna. The rich merchant, Padmanabh, who has made a fortune out of people such as you, only to leave them destitute and hungry, is handing out free food and is earning through it good deeds for his rebirth. Go and take food in charity and give him another chance to earn spiritual reward through meritorious actions.’

Dara opened her mouth to call out the man by his name, but he had already turned his head in disgust and walked away. Holding up Shakul, who had cried himself to sleep, Dara set out towards the riverbank, enquiring from those she met the way to the charity centre of the merchant Padmanabh. With every step she took, her limbs became weaker with fatigue.