The Home and the World - Rabindranath Tagore (books to read in your 30s .txt) 📗

be

back in a few days. I thought he might have sallied forth to

hunt for witnesses in Panchu's uncle's village. In that case,

however, I was sure that his would be a hopeless quest ...

During the day I forget myself in my work. As the late autumn

afternoon wears on, the colours of the sky become turbid, and so

do the feelings of my mind. There are many in this world whose

minds dwell in brick-built houses--they can afford to ignore the

thing called the outside. But my mind lives under the trees in

the open, directly receives upon itself the messages borne by the

free winds, and responds from the bottom of its heart to all the

musical cadences of light and darkness.

While the day is bright and the world in the pursuit of its

numberless tasks crowds around, then it seems as if my life wants

nothing else. But when the colours of the sky fade away and the

blinds are drawn down over the windows of heaven, then my heart

tells me that evening falls just for the purpose of shutting out

the world, to mark the time when the darkness must be filled with

the One. This is the end to which earth, sky, and waters

conspire, and I cannot harden myself against accepting its

meaning. So when the gloaming deepens over the world, like the

gaze of the dark eyes of the beloved, then my whole being tells

me that work alone cannot be the truth of life, that work is not

the be-all and the end-all of man, for man is not simply a serf--

even though the serfdom be of the True and the Good.

Alas, Nikhil, have you for ever parted company with that self of

yours who used to be set free under the starlight, to plunge into

the infinite depths of the night's darkness after the day's work

was done? How terribly alone is he, who misses companionship in

the midst of the multitudinousness of life.

The other day, when the afternoon had reached the meeting-point

of day and night, I had no work, nor the mind for work, nor was

my master there to keep me company. With my empty, drifting

heart longing to anchor on to something, I traced my steps

towards the inner gardens. I was very fond of chrysanthemums and

had rows of them, of all varieties, banked up in pots against one

of the garden walls. When they were in flower, it looked like a

wave of green breaking into iridescent foam. It was some time

since I had been to this part of the grounds, and I was beguiled

into a cheerful expectancy at the thought of meeting my

chrysanthemums after our long separation.

As I went in, the full moon had just peeped over the wall, her

slanting rays leaving its foot in deep shadow. It seemed as if

she had come a-tiptoe from behind, and clasped the darkness over

the eyes, smiling mischievously. When I came near the bank of

chrysanthemums, I saw a figure stretched on the grass in front.

My heart gave a sudden thud. The figure also sat up with a start

at my footsteps.

What was to be done next? I was wondering whether it would do to

beat a precipitate retreat. Bimala, also, was doubtless casting

about for some way of escape. But it was as awkward to go as to

stay! Before I could make up my mind, Bimala rose, pulled the

end of her sari over her head, and walked off towards the

inner apartments.

This brief pause had been enough to make real to me the cruel

load of Bimala's misery. The plaint of my own life vanished from

me in a moment. I called out: "Bimala!"

She started and stayed her steps, but did not turn back. I went

round and stood before her. Her face was in the shade, the

moonlight fell on mine. Her eyes were downcast, her hands

clenched.

"Bimala," said I, "why should I seek to keep you fast in this

closed cage of mine? Do I not know that thus you cannot but pine

and droop?"

She stood still, without raising her eyes or uttering a word.

"I know," I continued, "that if I insist on keeping you shackled

my whole life will be reduced to nothing but an iron chain. What

pleasure can that be to me?"

She was still silent.

"So," I concluded, "I tell you, truly, Bimala, you are free.

Whatever I may or may not have been to you, I refuse to be your

fetters." With which I came away towards the outer apartments.

No, no, it was not a generous impulse, nor indifference. I had

simply come to understand that never would I be free until I

could set free. To try to keep Bimala as a garland round my

neck, would have meant keeping a weight hanging over my heart.

Have I not been praying with all my strength, that if happiness

may not be mine, let it go; if grief needs must be my lot, let it

come; but let me not be kept in bondage. To clutch hold of that

which is untrue as though it were true, is only to throttle

oneself. May I be saved from such self-destruction.

When I entered my room, I found my master waiting there. My

agitated feelings were still heaving within me. "Freedom, sir,"

I began unceremoniously, without greeting or inquiry, "freedom is

the biggest thing for man. Nothing can be compared to it--

nothing at all!"

Surprised at my outburst, my master looked up at me in silence.

"One can understand nothing from books," I went on. "We read in

the scriptures that our desires are bonds, fettering us as well

as others. But such words, by themselves, are so empty. It is

only when we get to the point of letting the bird out of its cage

that we can realize how free the bird has set us. Whatever we

cage, shackles us with desire whose bonds are stronger than those

of iron chains. I tell you, sir, this is just what the world has

failed to understand. They all seek to reform something outside

themselves. But reform is wanted only in one's own desires,

nowhere else, nowhere else!"

"We think," he said, "that we are our own masters when we get in

our hands the object of our desire--but we are really our own

masters only when we are able to cast out our desires from our

minds."

"When we put all this into words, sir," I went on, "it sounds

like some bald-headed injunction, but when we realize even a

little of it we find it to be amrita--which the gods have

drunk and become immortal. We cannot see Beauty till we let go

our hold of it. It was Buddha who conquered the world, not

Alexander--this is untrue when stated in dry prose--oh when shall

we be able to sing it? When shall all these most intimate truths

of the universe overflow the pages of printed books and leap out

in a sacred stream like the Ganges from the Gangotrie?"

I was suddenly reminded of my master's absence during the last

few days and of my ignorance as to its reason. I felt somewhat

foolish as I asked him: "And where have you been all this while,

sir?"

"Staying with Panchu," he replied.

"Indeed!" I exclaimed. "Have you been there all these days?"

"Yes. I wanted to come to an understanding with the woman who

calls herself his aunt. She could hardly be induced to believe

that there could be such an odd character among the gentlefolk as

the one who sought their hospitality. When she found I really

meant to stay on, she began to feel rather ashamed of herself.

'Mother,' said I, 'you are not going to get rid of me, even if

you abuse me! And so long as I stay, Panchu stays also. For you

see, do you not, that I cannot stand by and see his motherless

little ones sent out into the streets?'

"She listened to my talks in this strain for a couple of days

without saying yes or no. This morning I found her tying up her

bundles. 'We are going back to Brindaban,' she said. 'Let us

have our expenses for the journey.' I knew she was not going to

Brindaban, and also that the cost of her journey would be

substantial. So I have come to you."

"The required cost shall be paid," I said.

"The old woman is not a bad sort," my master went on musingly.

"Panchu was not sure of her caste, and would not let her touch

the water-jar, or anything at all of his. So they were

continually bickering. When she found I had no objection to her

touch, she looked after me devotedly. She is a splendid cook!

"But all remnants of Panchu's respect for me vanished! To the

last he had thought that I was at least a simple sort of person.

But here was I, risking my caste without a qualm to win over the

old woman for my purpose. Had I tried to steal a march on her by

tutoring a witness for the trial, that would have been a

different matter. Tactics must be met by tactics. But stratagem

at the expense of orthodoxy is more than he can tolerate!

"Anyhow, I must stay on a few days at Panchu's even after the

woman leaves, for Harish Kundu may be up to any kind of devilry.

He has been telling his satellites that he was content to have

furnished Panchu with an aunt, but I have gone the length of

supplying him with a father. He would like to see, now, how many

fathers of his can save him!"

"We may or may not be able to save him," I said; "but if we

should perish in the attempt to save the country from the

thousand-and-one snares--of religion, custom and selfishness--

which these people are busy spreading, we shall at least die

happy."

Bimala's Story

XIV

Who could have thought that so much would happen in this one

life? I feel as if I have passed through a whole series of

births, time has been flying so fast, I did not feel it move at

all, till the shock came the other day.

I knew there would be words between us when I made up my mind to

ask my husband to banish foreign goods from our market. But it

was my firm belief that I had no need to meet argument by

argument, for there was magic in the very air about me. Had not

so tremendous a man as Sandip fallen helplessly at my feet, like

a wave of the mighty sea breaking on the shore? Had I called

him? No, it was the summons of that magic spell of mine. And

Amulya, poor dear boy, when he first came to me--how the current

of his life flushed with colour, like the river at dawn! Truly

have I realized how a goddess feels when she looks upon the

radiant face of her devotee.

With the confidence begotten of these proofs of my power, I was

ready to meet my husband like a lightning-charged cloud. But

what was it that happened? Never in all these nine years have I

seen such a far-away, distraught look in his eyes--like