I fainted. I do not remember anything after that. There is no point in repeating what I was told later. But when I regained consciousness, it was late in the night and there were many people beside me. But I did not see any of them. All I saw was that gently rumbling Ganga and that softly treading Rajani, slowly stepping into the waves. I closed my eyes—it was still the same sight. opened my eyes again and it was still the same sight. I looked to the distant horizon, and it was again Rajani, slowly wading into the water. I looked upwards and it was that same river flowing in the heavens and Rajani treading the clouds to step into the water. I tried to think of other things, but it was all the same. I gave up. The doctors began to treat me.
My treatment continued for many days, but the visage of Rajani never left my vision for even a second. I do not know for which disease the doctors were treating me. The face that never left my eyes and her name was something I did not tell anyone.
6
Sachindra
HEY THERE, RAJANI, SLOW, GO SLOW! STEP INTO THE TEMPLE OF MY HEART ever so gently. Why do you hurry thus? You are blind, you do not know the way! This abode is constricted and dark, bleak and gloomy—forever in darkness. Please enter it like the burning wick of the lamp and illuminate it. Burn yourself away like the wick, but please light my heart.
Hey there, Rajani, slow, go slow! Light this abode, but why do you make me burn? Whoever knew that cool marble could also be set on fire? I had taken you to be carved from stone, and hard-hearted; who knew that stone could also blaze? And again, whoever knew that stone, when it caused friction to iron, could very well ignite? The more I see of your beauty, fair as marble, cool as marble and sculpted from marble, the more I wish to gaze at it. Although I look at it every second of the day, every single day, I feel as if I’ve hardly seen you. The craving remains just as strong.
When I was unwell, I barely spoke to anyone. If anyone came to converse to me, I didn’t welcome it. I never brought Rajani’s name to my lips, but I cannot say what I spoke in my delirium. It was a common enough state with me.
I hardly ever left the bed. As I lay there, the sights that defy description flashed before my eyes. Sometimes I saw the battlefield where Greeks were being slain and blood was flowing like a river. Sometimes I saw a diamond tree in distant lands where row upon row of diamonds were in bloom. Once I saw that Saturn with its eight moons had landed with a thud upon Jupiter with its four moons and also saw all the planets in the galaxy shattering into a million pieces, thus blazing into a brilliant conflagration and hurtling about all over the galaxy. Yet another time, I saw that this earth was peopled with radiant, magnificent, divine beings who moved about the skies every now and then, dazzling me with their pleasant fragrance. But whatever I saw, in the centre of it all remained that image of Rajani, like a marble statue. Alas Rajani! Such fire trapped in stone!
Slow, Rajani, slow—ever so slowly open those sightless eyes of yours. Look, look at me and let me look at you! There, I can see your eyelids fluttering open and slowly, ever so slowly I can see your lotus eyes. Who on this earth doesn’t have eyes—even dogs, cows, lambs and the lowest of the low have eyes—but you don’t? No, you don’t—then, I don’t either. I do not want my eyes.
7
Labangalata
I KNEW FOR SURE SACHINDRA WOULD GET HIMSELF INTO TROUBLE. IT WASN’T right to do so much thinking at such an early age. Didi (his mother) never looks at him twice, and what’s the use of my saying something, for no one pays attention to the stepmother’s words. Such boys are very difficult to handle. Now the burden is mine. The doctors have failed to bring about a cure and they do not even know what the disease is. The disease, I am sure, is in his mind—what would they learn from his hands, eyes and tongue? If, like me, they ever lay in wait and watched the boy up to his tricks, they may perhaps have had an inkling of what was wrong with him.
What were the words? ‘Slow, Rajani, go slow!’ The boy muttered them whenever he was alone. Was this the effect of the hermit’s medication? Why, for the love of God, did I think of doing this? Will it help if I made Rajani sit at his bedside for some time? But, I had gone to Rajani’s house and yet she never visited me even once since then. If I sent for her, would she stay away? I decided to risk it and so sent a messenger to her home, saying I needed her urgently and could she please come once?
I decided to mention Rajani to Sachindra first so that it would be apparent if there was any connection between his illness and the girl. Hence, I went and sat near him. After talking of this and that I spoke of Rajani but Sachindra merely gazed at me mournfully without a word passing through his lips. He grew restless, he reached for something, broke something else and thus he went on. Finally, I began to criticize Rajani, calling her a mercenary. There was no one else in the room. The poor child looked up like a startled swan and glanced at my face. I continued, saying that Rajani and her family were ungrateful to us. Sachindra appeared to be displeased by such sentiments but he did not express anything in words.
I was certain now that this was the hermit’s doing. At present, he was travelling, but he was expected back shortly. I began to await his return. But the doubt niggled in my mind whether he’d be able to do anything. I was a foolish, short-sighted woman who had brought this trouble on her own head due to her yearning for wealth. At the time I was sure that Rajani would be my daughter-in-law. Who knew then that even a blind flower girl would be so hard to get? How was I to know that the hermit’s medication would go wrong thus? I had not known just how tiny the woman’s brain was; I stood corrected. Why didn’t I die before I had such a foolish idea? Now I did wish I could die, but I couldn’t as long as I didn’t see that Sachindra was on the road to recovery.
A few days later, the hermit reappeared seemingly out of nowhere. He said he had heard about Sachindra’s illness and had come to see him. He did not reveal from where he had got the news.
He first acquainted himself with all the details of Sachindra’s illness. Then he sat near Sachindra and began to talk of many things. Finally, I sent for the hermit in order to take his blessing. After doing that, I asked after his health and then said, ‘You are omniscient, oh sage; there is nothing beyond your ken. I am sure you know what ails Sachindra?’
He replied, ‘It is a very difficult malady indeed.’
I said, ‘Why then does Sachindra always mention Rajani?’
He said, ‘You are a child, you wouldn’t understand—’ (Dear Lord, me a child! I am Sachi’s mother!) ‘One of the symptoms of this disease is that every desire, every unconscious thought comes to the forefront of the brain and grows stronger by the day. Once when Sachindra wanted to test my divine powers, I had performed a ritual whereby he would dream of the one person who loved him the most. Sachindra dreamt of Rajani. It is an innate law of nature that we tend to start loving someone if we come to know of their love for us. Therefore, that night, the seeds of passion for Rajani were sowed secretly in Sachindra’s subconscious. But Rajani being blind and born to a low caste, his fondness remained concealed even to himself. Even if he perceived some signs of his own fondness for her, he refused to acknowledge it. Gradually, the spectre of penury loomed large on the horizon of this family. That upset Sachindra the most. In order to forget his woes, he turned to his books. He began to study in real earnest. A profusion of this reading made his heart grow restless. That, in turn, caused this mental collapse. With the aid of this breakdown, his hidden desire for Rajani made itself felt in his conscious mind. Now Sachindra lacked the mental strength to fight this growing love and to banish it from his heart. Especially since, as I mentioned earlier, the desires that come forth during this illness tend to take a strong hold upon the mind. Then it takes the form of a delirium and that’s what has happened to Sachindra.’
I was beside myself with worry as I asked, ‘Is there a cure for this illness?
The hermit said, ‘I know nothing of medical science and I do not know if it has the means to effect a cure. But I have never heard of doctors b
eing able to cure this kind of a disease.
I said, ‘Many doctors have been consulted, but no cure has been found.’
‘In my experience, even our native form of medicine will prove to be quite ineffective for this.’
‘So then, is there no way out?’ I asked in despair.
‘If you so desire, I can prescribe a cure,’ he said.
‘What could be better than that? You are everything to us—please give us the cure for this malady.
‘You are the mistress of this house. I can work the cure only if you give permission. Sachindra is also in your sway. He will take my medication on your orders alone. But medication alone will not help. For a mental illness we need a psychological solution—we need Rajani.’
‘She will come—I have sent for her.’
‘But, it is debatable whether her presence would prove to be a blessing or a bane,’ he cautioned me. ‘It is possible that the arrival of Rajani, when he is in this state, would only serve to entrench his feelings for her more strongly in his heart. If his marriage to Rajani is unlikely, then perhaps it is better for her to stay away.’
‘There is no time now to debate on the good or evil of Rajani’s presence—there she comes now.’
At that moment Rajani arrived, accompanied by a maid. On hearing of Sachindra’s illness, Amarnath himself had arrived with Rajani. He stayed back in the outer chambers and sent Rajani indoors with the maid.
Part V
Amarnath
1
I DON’T KNOW WHAT SPELLS THIS BLIND FLOWER GIRL CAN CAST. WITH HER sightless eyes, she had enslaved a hermit like me. I had thought I could never love anyone after Labangalata. But pride comes before a fall. Others may have failed, but I fell in love with this blind flower girl quite easily.
I had thought this life would be like a new-moon night—that it would pass in darkness. But suddenly the moon rose in my sky. I had thought I’d have to swim my way across the ocean of life, but suddenly a golden bridge appeared before me. I had thought this desert of a life would stay barren forever, but Rajani suddenly created an oasis in its midst. My joy knew no bounds. It was like that of a man who had lived in a dark cave all his life and suddenly came upon this sunlit, verdant earth full of people. In loving Rajani, my pleasure was the same as his who, blind from birth, has suddenly been granted sight.
But I cannot say where this enchantment will lead. I am a thief! On my back was branded the word thief in fiery letters. The day Rajani’s fingers traverses those letters and she’ll ask me what they say, what will I say to her? Will I be able to say they mean nothing? She was blind, she’d never know. But how could I deceive the one person with whom I was planning to regain my paradise on earth? Perhaps some men can. When I could, I had attempted far more daring deeds, and suffered for them. Why again? I had said to Labangalata that I’d confess to Rajani, but I hadn’t been able to do it yet. Now I will!
The day that Rajani came back after seeing Sachindra, I went to her in the afternoon intending to confess to her. I found her sitting alone and weeping. Without saying a word to her, I asked her aunt why she was crying. Her aunt said she didn’t know, and that Rajani had been weeping ever since she came back from the Mitra residence. I had not visited Sachindra personally because he was cross with me, and I feared my presence could aggravate his illness. So I did not know what took place there. I asked Rajani why she was crying. She wiped her eyes and kept quiet.
I was disconsolate. I said, ‘Rajani, whatever your sorrow is, if I come to know of it I shall do my best to eliminate the cause. Won’t you tell me the reason why you are crying?
She began to weep again. Then she checked herself with great effort and said, ‘You are so generous to me, but I am not worthy of it.’
‘Why do you say that, Rajani? I know for a fact that it is I who isn’t worthy of you and that’s what I have come to tell you, I said.
‘I am a serf at your feet—why do you say such things to me?’ she pleaded.
I began to open my heart out to her. ‘Listen to me, Rajani—it is my heart’s desire that I shall marry you and spend the rest of my life in happiness. If my hopes are dashed, I may even die. But I have come to tell you of the obstacles in the way of my dreams. Speak only after you hear me and not before that. In the first flush of youth, once upon a time, I had been dazzled by beauty—senselessly, I had committed a crime and I bear the marks of that deed upon my body to this day. That’s what I have come to tell you.
Then I narrated the whole sorry tale slowly, aided by patience and nothing else. I could do it only because she was blind. If our eyes had met, I would have failed.
Rajani remained silent. I said, ‘Rajani, I was swayed by corporeal beauty and in the first flush of youth, just once, I committed this crime. Never ever have I done anything wrong again. I have paid for that one instance every day of my life. Will you accept me?’
Rajani was weeping as she said, ‘Even if you have been looting, killing or pillaging all your life, you would still be a god to me. If you make room for me at your feet I am ever willing to serve you. But I am not worthy of you. You are yet to hear that tale.’
‘What is it, Rajani?’ I asked in anxious anticipation.
‘This sinful heart of mine belongs to another,’ she said quietly.
I got a jolt of shock, ‘What!’
Rajani went on, ‘I am a woman—what more can I say to you? But Labangalata knows everything. If you ask her, you will know everything. Please tell her that I have asked her to tell you all.’
I went to the Mitra mansion immediately. I shall not waste time on trivial matters by describing how I came upon Labangalata. I found her lying on the floor and weeping for Sachindra. The moment she saw me, she grabbed my feet and wept even louder saying, ‘Forgive me, Amarnath! Forgive me. Fate is punishing me for torturing you once. Sachindra, a son dearer to me than one from my own womb would be, is about to lose his life through my fault. I shall take poison and die—I’ll do it right now, in front of you!’
My heart shattered. Labanga was weeping, Rajani was weeping! They were women, used to shedding tears. My tears were checked but Rajani’s words had raised a storm of tears in my bosom. Labanga wept, Rajani wept, I wept—and Sachindra was sick—who said life was good? It was depressing at best.
I put away my woes and asked after Labanga’s woes first. She then began to weep as she described Sachindra’s illness. Labanga described everything, starting with testing the hermit’s powers to the meeting with Rajani at his bedside.
Then I asked her about Rajani’s tale. I said, ‘Rajani has asked you to tell me everything, so please tell me.’
Labanga then narrated all that she had come to know from Rajani.
Rajani belonged to Sachindra, Sachindra belonged to Rajani; what was I doing there?
Now I hid my face in my shirt and sobbed as I walked back home.
2
I HAD TO WIND UP SHOP FROM THIS MARKETPLACE CALLED LIFE. FATE HAD not decreed joy for me—how could I rob another of his joy? I decided to return Sachindra’s Rajani to him and to get away from this life. I would quit the marketplace, I would punish this heart and I would submit myself at the feet of Him who is beyond all pain and pleasure.
Lord, I have hunted for you high and low, where are You? You are not present in philosophy or science. You are not there in the knowledge of the erudite or in the contemplation of the saint. You are beyond proof and hence there is no proof of You. This blossoming heart is the sole proof that You exist—please ride on it. Let me cast away the blind flower girl from it and replace her with Your image.
You do not exist? Doesn’t matter—I shall make everything in Your name.
The infinite universe, pervaded completely by You, I bow before it—and so saying I shall cast away this sullied body of mine. Will You not take back that which is Your bequest? You must, or who else can restore the purity to this burden of sins?
Lord, I have but one request to You! Who has sullied this body—You or I
? I am dishonest and foolish—is it my fault or Yours? Who has furbished this shop of mine—You or I? I shall return to You that which you have set up—I shall no longer ply this trade.
Joy! I have looked for you everywhere, you have eluded me. If there is no joy, what use is hope? What is the use of setting up a kitchen in a land devoid of fire?
I vowed to give up everything.
*
The following day I visited Sachindra. I found him to be comparatively calmer, looking a little more cheerful. I conversed with him for some time. But I realized that he was still plagued by some ire towards me.
The next day I went to see him again. I began to visit him every day. Sachindra’s paleness and malaise did not go away but he began to appear more composed. The delirium vanished and gradually he began to recover.
Bankimchandra Omnibus: Volume - 1: v. 1 Page 54
