Saratchandra Chattopadhyay’s Devdas was published in Bengali in 1917.
The ‘Devdas metaphor’, a time-honoured, enduring tragic symbol of unfulfilled love, has captivated readers and film-going 
audiences for the better part of a century now. But interest in the original Devdas, Saratchandra Chattopadhyay’s piece de resistance, has been rekindled recently in the wake of the Sanjay Leela Bhansali film, which is and adaptation of the Bengali novel. This is good time to take a fresh look at the novel in translation, and to look at the specific ways in which the Devdas metaphor has engaged our imagination over several generations.
The days passed blissfully. The two children were having the time of their lives. They roamed the fields all day long, came home late to be scolded and beaten, and next morning they were off again. They slept like babies at night, tired as they were. In the morning they ran to each other, and started their games afresh. They had no other friends and neither did they need any. The two of them were enough to kick up a ruckus in the entire neighbourhood.
That day, soon after sunrise they waded into the water with their fishing rods. It was late afternoon by the time they came back home with bloodshot eyes, after having stirred up the entire pond and caught fifteen minnows, which were divided equally between them with due ceremony. Parvati’s mother gave her a sound thrashing and locked her up in a room. Devdas’s fate was not known, because he seldom revealed these facts. But when Parvati was weeping in her room in the afternoon, he did come up to her window and called out softly, “Paro, Paro.’ Parvati probably heard him. But she was so angry that she didn’t deign to answer. He spent the rest of the day sitting on a champak tree nearby. It took much coaxing from Dharmadas at dusk to get him to come down.
The next morning Parvati waited eagerly for her Dev-da. But Devdas didn’t come. He had gone to a nearby village with his father to honour an invitation. When Devdas failed to show up, Parvati broodingly walked out of the house all by herself. The previous day, before wading into the pond, Devdas had handed three rupees to her, in case he lost them in the water. They were tied securely in the anchal of Parvati’s sari. She whirled her anchal around, whirled herself around and whiled away some time. She couldn’t find any of her friends because they were all at school. So she set off for the other end of the neighbourhood. Manorama lived there. Manorama was a little older than Parvati and she went to school too, and they were friends. Parvati hadn’t met her for quite a while. Today, since she had the time, she walked into their house and called “Mano, are you home?”
Manorama’s aunt came out.”Paro?”
‘Yes. Where is Mano Aunty?”
“She has gone to school. Haven’t you gone, my child?”
“I don’t go to school. Neither does Dev-da.”
Manorama’s aunt laughed and said, “Oh, that is wonderful. Neither you nor Dev-da goes to school, eh?”
“No. We don’t go.”
“Well, that’s fine. But Mano has gone to school.”
Aunty asked her to wait but Parvati shook her head and started back. On the way back, near Rasik Pal’s shop, she ran into three Vaishavis--minstrel –women of the Vaishnav sect. They had sandal paste on their foreheads and musical instruments in their hands. They were on their way to seek alms. Parvati called out to them and said, “O Boshtomis, do you know any songs?”
One of them turned around and said, “Sure we do, my child.”
“Will you please sing?”
At this three of them turned around. One of them said, “We can’t sing like this, my dear, you’ll have to give us alms. Come, let us go to your home.”
“No. Sing right here.”
“But you’ll have to give us money, child.”
Parvati pointed to her anchal and said, “I have some rupees.”
When they saw the money tied up in her anchal, they moved away from the shop and sat down. Then they began to play and sing. The songs, their meaning, all passed Parvati by; she couldn’t have followed them even if she had tried to. But at the sound of the music her heart and soul rushed towards her Dev-da.
The Vaishnavis finished their song and said, “Well child, give us what you want to give.”
Parvati untied the knot in her sari and handed them the three rupees. Surprised, the three of them stared at her.
One asked, “Whose money is this, child?”
Dev-da’s.”
“Won’t he beat you?”
Parvati thought for a moment. “No,” said unsurely.
The Vaishnavis said, “Bless you, my child.”
Parvati laughed happily and said, “That it will. May Radharani bless your kind heart.” They prayed that this generous child wouldn’t suffer the consequences of her kindness.
That day Parvati got home early. She met Devdas the next morning. He held a kite spool in one hand, but didn’t have the kites. He would have to buy them. When Parvati came up to him, he said, “Paro, give me the money.”
Parvati’s face fell. She said, “I don’t have it.”
‘‘What did you do with it?”
I gave it to the Boshtomis. They sang songs.”
“And you gave them all of it?”
“Yes. There were only three rupees.”
“Stupid. You shouldn’t give away all of it.”
“Oh, but there were three of them. If I didn’t give three rupees, how would they split it up between them?”
Devdas grew serious and said, “If I were you, I’d have given them two rupees.” He used one end of the spool to scratch out the figures on the ground and then said, “They would have each got a little under eleven annas.”
Parvati thought for a while and then said, “They don’t know their maths as well as you do.”
Devdas had studied his arithmetic with great difficulty and Parvati’s comment flattered him. He said, “That’s true.”
Parvati took his hand and said, “I thought you would beat me, Dev-da.”
Devdas fell from the sky. “Why would I do that?”
“Those Boshtomis said, you might beat me.”
Devdas happily leaned on her shoulder and said, “Do I ever when you haven’t done something wrong?”
Perhaps according to Devdas this action of Parvatis lay outside his penal code. After all, three rupees did split up quite nicely between three people, especially for women who had never gone to school or studied arithmetic. If they were handed two rupees instead of three, it may indeed have been unfair on them. Devdas took Parvati’s hand and began to walk towards the small market to buy some kites. On the way, they hid the spool in a nearby bush.
