My Kind of Girl by Buddhadeva Bose

the first part, when her character never sits still and comes across as altogether quite light and bubbly, but not even her sister had imagined she would play the sad, romantic scenes toward the end so beautifully.One day, however, they heard that Bina was very ill and would not be able to rehearse. Ramen was worried, as was everybody else, but they did not let anyone meet her – apparently she had a terrible headache and was lying down in a dark room. The rehearsal didn’t go well that evening; Mr. Dutta was distracted, Mrs. Dutta would disappear every now and then, and finally the session broke up early. This was the point at which Mrs. Dutta took Ramen aside and said she had something important to discuss with him.
    Ramen was thunderstruck at the news she gave him. Bina, Mrs. Dutta reported, had been looking sullen since the previous afternoon, pacing from room to room, window to window. No rehearsal had been scheduled for that evening, and while Ramen sometimes visited even when there weren’t any rehearsals, he hadn’t that day. Mrs. Dutta asked once or twice, “What’s the matter with you, Bina?” No reply.
    When evening fell, the girl asked, “Isn’t Ramen coming today?”
    â€œNo idea – it’s past eight, I doubt he is,” Mrs. Dutta answered.
    â€œTell him to come – telephone him,” said Bina, at once. Mrs. Dutta looked at her sister in surprise and saw that her eyes were brimming with tears. No sooner did she exclaim, “Bina! What’s wrong?” and put her hand on her sister’s shoulder, than Bina had put her arms round her and burst into tears, saying, “I want to marry Ramen, I want to marry Ramen!” And so it had continued since then. Bina had given up on everything and retired to her bed. “I’m in a spot,” Mrs. Dutta had concluded.
    Ramen had no idea what to say, where to look, where to put his hands in response. He felt terrible and yet, though he felt guilty, wasit his fault? He had never said, done or even thought of anything that could have evoked such strong feelings in Bina. Mrs. Dutta’s account was difficult to comprehend.
    He had no choice but to believe it when he saw her, however. She was in a wretched state. Ramen sat next to her and asked, “What’s the matter, Bina?” and apparently she immediately clutched his hand and started sobbing. She didn’t even seem to remember how to properly conduct herself – had she gone mad? Ramen was flabbergasted, but also felt miserable.
    The Duttas were incredibly courteous, and left the room. Ramen felt extremely self-conscious, and tried to overcome it with a laugh, saying, “What is it?”
    There came a muffled reply. “Hasn’t didi told you everything?”
    â€œShe has.”
    â€œWhat do you think?”
    Ramen explained that they would have a lot of time to talk about this, but that right now she needed to recover so that the play wouldn’t have to be abandoned; but his efforts were of no avail.
    Now several days had passed, during which Ramen had tried in no small measure to appease the girl, to calm her, to persuade her to recover, with Bina’s sister at it as well, round the clock – but no! They continued to flounder. For some reason Bina was certain that her life held no meaning unless she married Ramen, and no one could convince her otherwise. It made no difference to her that Ramen had been married earlier, and she particularly liked the fact that his lifestyle wasa little westernized. Apparently this was the kind of man that was her ideal: tall, fair, someone who would climb the stairs whistling, play tennis, always be dressed in trousers. It seemed she had even told her sister that if the wedding didn’t take place in due course, she would move into Ramen’s home – he wouldn’t be able to throw her out, would he?
    Ramen shared his litany of woes with me till two in the morning.