On a night like this the bolts to the doors and windows of the mind come loose, the storm enters and upsets the carefully arranged furniture, the curtains flap and flutter any which way and there’s no catching hold of them. I couldn’t sleep. There’s no point transcribing the random thoughts that passed through my mind; they have no relevance to the story.
Suddenly I heard Sachish shout from within his dark room:
‘Who is it?’
‘It’s Damini,’ came the reply. ‘The rain is getting in through your open window. I’ve come to shut it.’
As she did so she saw Sachish get out of bed. After what appeared to be a momentary hesitation he bolted out of the room. Lightning flashed, followed by a muffled rumble of thunder.
Damini sat for a long time in the doorway of her own room. But nobody came in from the storm. The gusty wind grew more and more impatient.
Unable to restrain herself any longer, Damini went out. It was hard to keep one’s balance in the wind. Footmen of the gods hustled her along, as it were, with loud imprecations. The darkness began to stir. The rain tried desperately to fill all the holes and crannies in the sky. If only she herself could have deluged the cosmos like this with her tears.
Suddenly a lightning shaft ripped through the sky from end to end. In the fleeting light Damini spotted Sachish on the riverbank. Mustering all her strength she ran and fell at his feet. Her voice triumphed over the wind’s roar as she begged, ‘I swear at your feet that I have not wronged you, so why do you punish me like this?’
Sachish stood in silence.
‘Kick me into the river if you wish,’ Damini said, ‘but get out of the storm.’
Sachish turned back. As soon as he got back to the house he said, ‘I am seeking a Being whom I need desperately I don’t need anything else. Do me a favour, Damini. Abandon me.’
For a while Damini stood in silence. Then she said, ‘Very well, I’ll go.’
5
LATER I HEARD THE WHOLE STORY FROM DAMINI, BUT THAT DAY I KNEW nothing of it. And so when from my bed I saw the two of them part on the front veranda and walk to their respective rooms, my hopelessness seemed to crush my chest and reach for my throat. I sat up in a panic and couldn’t go back to sleep all night.
I was shocked at Damini’s appearance the next morning. Last night’s storm seemed to have left on her all the footprints of its dance of destruction. Though ignorant of what had transpired I began to feel angry with Sachish.
‘Come, Sribilashbabu,’ Damini said to me, you will have to escort me to Calcutta.’
I knew very well what agony such words were for Damini but I didn’t probe her with questions. Even in the midst of anguish I experienced a sense of relief. It was for the best that Damini should leave. She was like a boat that had wrecked itself against a rock.
At the leave-taking Damini bowed to Sachish in a pranam and said, ‘I have offended you in many ways. Please forgive me.’
Lowering his gaze to the ground Sachish said, ‘I have also done much wrong. I will do penance to obtain forgiveness.’
On the way to Calcutta I saw clearly that Damini was being consumed by an apocalyptic Inferno. And I too—inflamed to fury by its heat—said some harsh things about Sachish. ‘Look here,’ Damini shot back, ‘don’t you talk like that about him in my presence. Have you any idea of what he has saved me from?You have eyes for my suffering only. Can’t you see how he has suffered in order to save me? He tried to destroy Beauty, and in the process the Unbeautiful got a kick in the chest. Just as well . . . just as well . . . it was quite right.’ Saying this Damini began violently striking her chest. I caught hold of her wrists.
On reaching Calcutta I took Damini to her aunt’s, then went to a boarding-house I knew. On seeing me my acquaintances were startled into exclaiming, ‘What on earth’s the matter with you? Have you been ill?’
The following day the first post brought a note from Damini: ‘Please take me away. I am not wanted here.’
The aunt wouldn’t let Damini live with her. The city was apparently buzzing with condemnation of us. Shortly after our desertion of the guru’s party the puja specials of the weeklies came out; so the chopping blocks were ready for us, and there was no dearth of bloodshed. The scriptures forbid the sacrifice of female animals, but in the case of human beings sacrificing females gives the greatest satisfaction. Though Damini’s name was not explicitly mentioned in the papers care was taken to ensure that there would be no doubt about the target of the slander. Consequently it became totally impossible for Damini to live in her aunt’s house.
By now Damini’s parents were both dead. Her brothers, however, were still around. I asked her about their whereabouts. ‘They are very poor,’ she said with a shake of her head.
The fact was she didn’t want to put them in a difficult position. She feared that the brothers too would say, ‘No room for you here!’ The blow would be unbearable. ‘So where will you go?’ I asked.
‘To Swami Lilananda.’
Swami Lilananda! I was struck dumb for a while. Fortune could be so cruelly whimsical!
‘Will Swamiji take you back?’ I asked.
‘Gladly.’
She knew human nature. Those dominated by the herd instinct prefer to find company than to seek truth. It was quite true that there would be no lack of room for Damini at Swami Lilananda’s. Still . . .
At this critical moment I said, ‘Damini, there’s a way out. If you’ll permit me I’ll explain.’
‘Let’s hear,’ Damini said,
‘If it’s possible for you to accept a man like me in marriage . . .’
Damini interrupted me. ‘What are you saying, Sribilashbabu? Have you gone mad?’
‘Let’s say I have. When you’re mad it becomes easy to solve many difficult problems. Madness is a pair of Arabian Nights shoes; if you put them on you can leap clear of thousands of bogus questions.’
‘Bogus questions? What exactly do you mean by bogus?’
‘For instance, what will people say? What will happen in future?’
‘And the real questions?’ Damini asked.
‘Let’s hear what you understand by real questions.’
‘For instance, what will happen to you if you marry me?’
‘If that’s the real question I’m not worried, because my condition can’t get worse. If only I could change it completely. Even turning it over on its side would provide a little relief.’
I refuse to believe that Damini had not already received some sort of telepathic message about my feelings. But till now this information had been of no consequence to her; or at least there had been no need for a reply. Now at last the need had arisen.
Damini pondered the matter in silence. ‘Damini,’ I said, ‘I am one of the most ordinary men in this world. Indeed, I am less than that, I am insignificant. Marrying me or not marrying me will make no difference, so you needn’t worry.’
Damini’s eyes brimmed over. ‘I wouldn’t have to consider it at all if you were really ordinary,’ she said.
After a little more thought Damini said to me, ‘Well, you know me.’ ‘You know me too,’ I said.
That is how I put my proposal. In the exchange between us the unspoken words outnumbered the spoken.
I have already mentioned that I had once conquered many hearts with my orations in English. In the time that had elapsed many had shaken off the spell. But Naren still regarded me as one of God’s gifts to the present age. A house he owned was to remain untenanted for a month or so. We took temporary shelter there.
The day I put the question to Damini the wheels of my proposal had buckled and run into such a rut of silence that it seemed it would remain stuck there, beyond the reach of both ‘yes’ and ‘no’. If only with extensive repairs and much hauling and heaving I could get it out! But the situation was unexpectedly saved because the psyche has been created—perhaps as a jest—specially to deceive the psychologist. That spring month of Phalg un, the Creator’s merry laughter o
ver this reverberated between the walls of our borrowed quarters.
All these days Damini had not had the time to recognize that I was of any consequence; perhaps a more intense light from another source was entering her eyes. Now her whole world narrowed to a point where I was the sole presence. Consequently there was nothing for her to do but open her eyes wide to see me. How lucky I was that just at this moment Damini seemed to see me for the first time.
I had roamed widely in Damini’s company, by the sea and across many hills and rivers, while ecstatic melodies and a tumult of drums and cymbals set the air on fire. The line, ‘At your footsteps the noose of love tightens round my soul,’ was like a flame showering sparks in all directions.Yet the veil between us didn’t catch fire.
But what an extraordinary thing happened in this Calcutta alley! The jostling houses seemed to turn into blossoms of amaranth. Truly, God gave a spectacular demonstration of his powers. Brick and woodwork became notes in his celestial melody. And with the touch of a philosopher’s stone of some kind he instantly transformed a nonentity like me into an exceptional being.
When something is concealed behind a screen it seems eternally inaccessible, but when the screen is removed it can be reached in the twinkling of an eye. So we didn’t tarry any longer. ‘I was living in a dream,’ Damini said. ‘All I needed was to be jolted awake. A veil of illusion kept us separate. I bow to my guru in gratitude, for he removed the veil.’
‘Don’t stare at me like that,’ I said to Damini. ‘When you once before found that this particular divine creation wasn’t attractive, I could bear it, but it would be very difficult to bear it now.’
‘I’m now finding that same creation to be quite good-looking,’ Damini said.
‘You’ll go down in history,’ I said. ‘Even the fame of the intrepid man who plants his flag at the North Pole will be nothing compared to yours. You have achieved something not merely difficult, but impossible.’
Never before did I have such an absolute realization of the extreme brevity of Phalgun. Only thirty days, and each of them not a minute longer than twenty-four hours. God has all eternity in his hands, and yet such appalling niggardliness! I couldn’t see why,
‘Since setting yourself on this mad course, have you thought of your family?’ Damini asked.
‘They wish me well,’ I said. ‘So now they will disown me completely.’
‘And then?’
‘You and I will build a new home from scratch. It will be our very own creation.’
‘And the housewife in it will have to be trained from scratch. Let her be entirely your own creation, let there be no fragments of the past.’
We set a date for our wedding in the summer month of Chaitra, and made the necessary arrangements. Damini insisted on getting Sachish to come.
‘Why?’ I asked.
‘He will give away the bride.’
But there was no news of the madcap’s whereabouts. I wrote letter after letter and got no reply. Probably he was still at that haunted house; otherwise the letters would have come back. But I doubted whether he opened any letter and read it.
‘Damini,’ I said, ‘you’ll have to convey the invitation in person. “Please forgive an invitation by post”—that sort of thing won’t do here. I could have gone alone, but I am a timid sort of fellow. By now he has probably moved to the other side of the river to supervise the herons at their preening. Only you would have the guts to go there.’
‘I promised never to go there again,’ Damini said with a laugh.
‘You promised not to go there again with food, but what’s the harm in taking an invitation to a meal?’ I said.
This time there was no hitch. The two of us took Sachish by the hand and marched him back to Calcutta. He was as delighted over our wedding as a child is with a new toy. We wanted to get it over with quietly; Sachish would have none of that. And when Uncle’s Muslim following got wind of the event, they gave themselves up to such boisterous revelry that our neighbours thought the Emir of Kabul—or at least the Nizam of Hyderabad—had arrived on a ceremonial visit.
There was even greater excitement in the papers. The next puja specials duly provided the altar for a dual sacrifice. We had no desire to put a curse on anybody, though. Let Durga fill the coffers of the editors and at least this once let readers freely indulge their addiction to human blood, we thought.
‘Bisri, I’d like you to use my house,’ Sachish said.
‘Why don’t you join us too, so that we can get to work again?’ I replied.
‘No, my work lies elsewhere,’ Sachish said.
‘You can’t leave before the bou-bhat ceremony,’ Damini insisted.
There weren’t too many guests at the bou-bhat. In fact there was only Sachish.
Sachish had blithely invited us to enjoy the use of his property, but what it entailed only we knew. Harimohan had taken possession of it and rented it out. He would have moved in himself, but those who advised him on spiritual matters considered it unwise because some Muslims had died of the plague there. The tenants who lived there would also . . . But they could be kept in the dark.
How we retrieved the house from Harimohan’s grip would make for a long tale. Our chief strength lay in the neighbourhood Muslims. I simply gave them a glimpse of Jagmohan’s will. After that it was unnecessary to go to any lawyer.
Till now I had always received some help from my family; it stopped. The two of us set up house unaided, but our hardship was our delight. I bore the badge of a Premchand-Raychand scholar, so it was easy to land a lectureship. In addition I put out patent medicines to help students pass examinations: voluminous notes on the text-books. I needn’t have gone to such lengths, because our needs were few. But Damini said we must see to it that Sachish didn’t have to worry about earning a living.There was another thing Damini didn’t ask me to do, nor did I speak to her about it; it had to be done on the quiet, Damini’s brothers lacked the means to ensure that her two nieces were married well or her several nephews well educated. They wouldn’t let us into their houses—but money has no smell, especially when it merely has to be accepted and needn’t be acknowledged.
On top of my other responsibilities I took up the sub-editorship of an English newspaper. Without telling Damini I engaged the services of a servant-boy, a bearer and an indigent Brahmin cook. The next day she dismissed them all without telling me. When I objected she said, ‘You are always indulging me for the wrong reasons. How on earth can I do nothing while you are working yourself to the bone?’
My work outside and Damini’s work inside the home—the two mingled like the confluence of the Ganges and the Jamuna. Besides, Damini began giving sewing lessons to the Muslim girls of the neighbourhood. She seemed to have vowed not to be outdone by me.
Calcutta became Vrindaban and our daily struggle became the nimble Krishna’s flute, but I lack the poetic talent to express this simple truth in the right key. Let me just say that the days that went by didn’t walk or run, they danced.
We passed yet another Phalgun. But no more after that. Ever since the return from the cave Damini had been suffering from a pain in the chest that she mentioned to no one. When it began getting worse she said in reply to my anxious queries: ‘This pain is my secret glory, my philosopher’s stone. It is the dowry that enabled me to come to you, otherwise I wouldn’t have deserved you.’
The doctors each diagnosed the ailment differently. None of their prescriptions agreed. Eventually, when like Rama conquering Lanka the blaze of their fees and medicine bills had reduced my savings to cinders, the doctors capped their triumph by pronouncing unanimously that a change of air was necessary. By then my resources had dwindled into thin air.
‘Take me to the place by the sea from where I brought the pain,’ Damini said. ‘There’s plenty of air there.’
When the full moon of wintry Magh gave way to Phalgun and the entire sea rose, filled with the aching tears of high tide, Damini took the dust of my feet and said, ‘My longing
s are still with me. I go with the prayer that I may find you again in my next life.’
Glossary
Airavata
The white elephant, created by the churning of the ocean; became the mount of the god Indra.
Akanda
Mauve flower growing on a small tree.
Ashar
The first of the two months of the rainy season, mid-June to mid-July.
Baba
Father; also used affectionately for a son or young boy.
Babu
A gentleman; as a suffix added to a name it is equivalent to ‘Mister’, e.g. Sribilashbabu.
Bhantiphool
Sweet-smelling white flower with deep red spots.
Bou-bhat
Bou means bride, bhat rice. One of the many traditional Hindu wedding feasts, organized by the groom’s family to welcome the bride.
Chaitra
The second of the two spring months in the Bengali calendar, mid-March to mid-April; it is hot and dry.
Chalta
An evergreen tree bearing large white scented blossoms and an edible fruit.
Chamar
Traditionally the caste of leather-workers, described as ‘untouchable’.
Dada
Elder brother, grandfather, great-uncle.
Durga
One of the fierce forms assumed by the great Hindu goddess Devi, when she is the great protectress of humanity.
Haidini, Sandhini and Jogmaya
All associated with Vaishnava cults based on the ideal love of Radha and Krishna as the path to the realization of the Ultimate Being. Hiadini, identified with Radha, manifests the power of bliss; Sandhini, the power of existence; Jogmaya, identified with Durga, the power of divine diffusion.
The Tagore Omnibus, Volume One Page 52
