The mystery in Afonso’s heart always remained intact and never came to light. Neither through his glances, nor his words, nor his actions did Camila ever get even a hint that Afonso felt anything more than the typical friendship between childhood neighbors. Certainly, whenever she would go to the village well to draw water, Afonso would appear out of nowhere, insisting on taking the bucket from her hands and filling it for her.
And when she was feeding the cows, he would take the bundle of hay from her and lay it in the trough.
When she went to the market to buy something,
it was not uncommon to run into Afonso on the way, and he would always offer to run the errand for her.
Camila’s household had no other man; her father had passed away years before, and her mother remained indoors, respecting old traditions. Whenever Afonso was about to go to his studies, he would stop by to see if they needed anything from the market. His family farmed and had cows and fruit orchards, and Afonso would sometimes sneak produce from their fields to bring to Camila’s house as a gift. But to Camila, this generosity was merely a sign of his kindness and neighborly care—what else could she possibly make of it? Villagers are bound together in a kinship beyond blood ties; for people of the same village, everyone feels like a brother or sister. So there was nothing unusual in Afonso’s thoughtfulness.
One day, Camila said to him, “You spend all day at the academy. I feel lonely sometimes.”
Afonso replied simply, “What can I do? Exams are coming up.”
“I keep thinking about how, when I leave, I’ll never see you again or how you’ll never come to visit me.”
Afonso grew anxious. “Leave? Where are you going?”
Camila blushed, then replied softly, “To the place where all girls go, where your sisters went.”
Afonso responded with a sigh, “Oh, is that what you mean?”
This thought—that Camila would one day leave the village—had never occurred to him. He had never had time to imagine such a thing; his joy was rooted firmly in the present. Happiness rarely bothers itself with the future. If he started thinking too far ahead, would he still be happy?
But before Afonso even had time to adjust to the idea, it became a reality. Word reached him that a marriage had been arranged for Camila. It was a well-off family, reputable and respectable. Camila’s mother, delighted, had eagerly accepted the match. In their impoverished state, wealth seemed like the ultimate comfort, and Camila’s future would now be secure in a household that could provide her every happiness. It was as if her prayers had been answered. Previously, the thought of her daughter’s marriage filled her with dread, making her heart race in anxiety. But now, it seemed that the Almighty had, with a single gesture, erased all her worries and relieved her burden.
Upon hearing the news, Afonso was devastated. Like a madman, he ran toward Camila’s house but stopped midway. His reason halted him, making him think, “What’s the point of going there? How can I blame anyone? Is it anyone’s fault?”
He returned home and lay down, covering his face. Camila would leave; how would he bear it? Should he even go on living? What’s left in life? But soon, this thought faded, replaced by the calm stillness that follows a storm. He became indifferent. If she was leaving, what connection did they still have? Why should he even try to meet her? Besides, why would Camila care now? She had never shown interest before. It was always he who followed her around like a loyal dog. Camila had never inquired about his feelings. And now, she was about to marry a wealthy man! Let her go; Afonso would survive. This is what loyalty means in these times.
But all this bravado was internal and, in truth, empty. How could he have the courage to stand before Camila’s mother and say, “Camila belongs to me, and she always will!” It would be a scandal, an outrage. He had neither heard nor seen anything like that happen in their village.
As for Camila, she spent her days waiting to catch a glimpse of him. She would wonder, “Why does he just pass by my house without stopping? Why doesn’t he come inside?” If they met by chance, he seemed to flee as if avoiding her shadow. She would stand by the well with her water pot, expecting him to show up, but he was nowhere to be seen.
One day, she gathered her courage and went to his house to confront him. “Why don’t you come around these days?” she asked, barely able to keep her voice steady. Just the thought of leaving the village tugged at her heart.
Afonso sat there, silent as ever, and casually replied, “Exams are close; I don’t have the time.”
After a pause, he added, “Besides, you’re leaving anyway…” He wanted to say, “So why should I deepen this affection now?” but stopped himself, thinking it a foolish thing to say. When someone is gravely ill, do we stop treating them just because they may not survive? No, we do everything we can to help them. So, after rephrasing his thought, he added, “I heard the family is quite well-off.”
Camila didn’t respond to his last remark. Perhaps she hadn’t heard it, or maybe she chose to ignore it. The only thing that echoed in her mind was his initial response.
With a sorrowful voice, she said, “How am I to blame? It’s not as though I’m leaving by choice. I’m leaving because I have to.”
Her cheeks flushed with embarrassment; perhaps she had said more than she’d intended.
Even in love, there is a silent game of chess. Afonso looked at her as though trying to discern whether her words held any true meaning. How he wished he could see right through her! But all girls speak this way, as if marriage were a fate worse than death, and yet, they all eventually leave, wearing fine jewelry and clothes, seated in a decorated carriage. Her words brought him no comfort.
Timidly, he asked, “Will you even remember me?”
Afonso broke into a sweat, feeling so awkward he wanted to flee. He could hardly muster the courage to look at her, fearing she might catch on to his true feelings.
Camila, bowing her head, seemed to speak to her heart. “You think I’m heartless? I’m innocent, and yet you’re angry with me. Instead, shouldn’t you be comforting me right now? It’s your duty to give me strength. But here you are, cold and distant. Tell me, what other path do I have? My own family is sending me to a stranger’s house. Who knows what lies ahead? Is that grief not enough, that you add your anger to it?”
Her voice choked up, and Afonso, seeing Camila so sad and distressed for the first time, began to feel that there was, indeed, a hidden pain within her. His pettiness and selfishness seemed to reflect like a stain upon his soul. Camila’s words held an undeniable truth, along with a hint of reprimand. Why reproach someone who’s already hurting? He knew he should have been there to support her, to provide her with solace. It was a duty he should have fulfilled willingly. Camila had set before him a new ideal of love, and his conscience couldn’t ignore it. Love, after all, is a selfless sacrifice, but a sacrifice that sears the heart.
Ashamed, he murmured, “Forgive me, Camila. I was wrong; in fact, I was foolish.”
mmm it was Part 1 of of Afonso & Camila To Read more: Part 2
Inspiration: Mr. Dhanpat Rai Srivastava – PremChand
Read Now Part – 2
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