***
Living in the town with her brother’s small family and being tired of doing nothing but needlework in a deserted house in the daytime, Aunt took to visiting a grocer’s stall close to the market and stayed there for hours. With her presence, the number of customers coming to the stall increased noticeably. The shop owner asked Aunt to work for her, and she became a salesgirl. Passers-by, especially young men, besotted by her charm, could not help stopping in front of the stall to buy something they really did not need. “It’s high time you got married, dear,” said Granny. “Out of ten men, nine like the upper two-third portion of my body, not the lower one-third,” she replied.
Later, uncle opened a shop in the front portion of his house for her to do business. Customers began to do their shopping at Aunt’s, instead of her former place of work. Year after year, the profits piled up. “My only hope is that she’ll soon have a husband, but that does not look like it is going to happen,” sighed Granny. Aunt just smiled. People flocked to her shop in greater numbers.
***
By the time I began attending college, Aunt had built a house of her own. Although it was not luxurious, it was cosy and decent. For four years, most of my expenses for studying and living were borne by her since my parents were poor farmers with a large family. Aunt was still young, I was in my late teens, and I became closer to her than to my mother. I visited her often, usually on holidays, travelling the long distance between my college and the heart of the town. There were many times I buried my face in her bosom and cried my eyes out. “You can realise its problems only when you are in love,” she said. “Weep to your heart’s content, but don’t be disappointed.”
When I started going out with An, she did not object. She only said: “Now that you are in love, you’ll have to accept what comes to you – good or bad.”
Mother was totally against our affair because An worked a long way away, about a thousand kilometres from my house and his family belonged to, in her opinion, a dubious circle of traders.
Aunt then told me that she was in love as well. I was very glad.
“When are you going to get married?” “Never.” Surprised, I looked at her closely. At 30, she was still very attractive. It would be an injustice if such a beautiful woman was not loved by anyone. If only I looked like her or Mother, just a bit, things could have been different for me. Instead, I inherited the brown complexion and slanting eyes from Dad.
“Aunt, tell me about your love, please,” I urged her. She smiled in a vague way for a few seconds, then said: “He is married already, and lives a normal life with his wife and children.” “A married man?” I could hardly breathe. “Nobody can persuade or coerce me into doing anything against my will,” she hastened to add, for fear that I might think badly of the man.
But I was not going to keep silent. “He loves you, but doesn’t leave his wife, does he? Bastard.” She kept her head down for a few minutes and then said: “Maybe it’s his cowardice that makes me love him. Sometimes, love and sympathy are two sides of an issue, and sometimes they’re different. For me, what I’m badly in need of is love and that will do.”
I felt bitter. I was both angry and sympathetic. Usually, she was a practical woman, but now she had become so credulous and romantic.
***
That Saturday, I went to town by bicycle. I had just received An’s letter asking me to come to his place immediately to discuss our affair and come to a decision soon. I was in two minds. To go to him or wait for something new. It was in the middle of the rainy season, but the weather was fine that day. The blue sky forecast a beautiful night. I reached the town at twilight. Riding my bicycle among couples on motorcycles or expensive bicycles going to and fro under the dazzling lights, most of them happy-looking young people, I felt sorry for my lonely and quiet life in the country. After graduating from university, I should have gone to the south together with An or accepted the job offered to me in the town as Aunt suggested. I had done neither. With all my belongings in my hands, I reached a secondary school in a remote area as a teacher, a crusader come to enlighten the countryside. More than a year had passed. Contrary to expectations, my health had only worsened. Would there be any change? I asked myself. Apart from disappointment at unachieved dreams, I bore another pain in my heart: our love seemed set to turn in another direction.
“When you’re fed up with your teaching, you can come here. I’ll let you take over this shop, or get you a much better job,” Aunt had said. Was it time now to take her up on the offer?
The door was locked. Luckily, I had a spare key she had given me. Entering the house, I found a message for me on the table: “Food’s in the fridge. Money in the wardrobe. I’ll be back late.” I cooked the dinner and ate it by myself. Aft