Looking in the mirror, Aloka applies bright red vermilion to her hair's parting. In a careless moment, some of it falls onto the tip of her nose. But that very carelessness seems to multiply her beauty several times over. She looks at herself and feels astonished. So beautiful! So beautiful! Can a person be this beautiful?!
Aloka has never thought of herself as conceited. She's not foolish enough to take pride in something that's simply true and natural. That Aloka is strikingly beautiful—this is just an easy, effortless truth. But today the mirror seems to be praising her a bit too much, like some lovesick admirer standing outside her house. Well then, why is she so beautiful? What good is this beauty if it can't bring color to any man's path?
This wayward mirror reminded her of her obedient lover Niloy. Alas! What sorrow makes a person so compliant, so well-behaved? What does an obedient man get from life? Yes, they know how to take on responsibilities, they know how to fulfill all duties toward everyone, but what do they receive from others in return?
To stay alive, one must give something to oneself too. At least love should be more or less mandatory. Without receiving love, a boy can never become a man. Yet even without receiving love, Niloy continues to think of himself as quite the man. If she sat down to count all the loveless people like Niloy around her, the day would run out. Who will shatter the illusions of these Niloys?
Lost in these thoughts, Aloka suddenly burst into tears. She felt utterly worthless. Right then she called Niloy and said, "Don't ever contact me again. I am sorry for everything!"
Then she blocked Niloy everywhere.
Why did Aloka do this? Does she love Niloy after all? Or has she been defeated by Niloy's love today? Or did a sudden pull toward home leave her restless?
This is how the Alokas live. They have neither home nor love. They search for love, yet when they find it, they simply cannot bear it. The tears born from beauty's heat—this is their inexorable fate.