Gora (Modern Classics)

by Tagore, Rabindranath

  The day the rebellious Lalita came aboard the steamer, Binoy felt: ‘Lalita and I are united in our stand against the rest of the world.’ He could not dismiss the thought that, ignoring everyone else, it was to him that Lalita had come, seeking his support. Whatever the reason and whatever the purpose, today Lalita did not merely regard Binoy as one in a crowd; he alone was by her side, he was the only one; all her relatives and dear ones were far away, he alone was close. The rapture of this proximity throbbed in his heart like the rumbling of thunder clouds. When Lalita withdrew to the first class cabin Binoy could not tear himself away to retire to his own sleeping quarters. Removing his shoes, he began to silently pace up and down the deck outside that cabin. Lalita was not likely to face any harassment on board the steamer, but tempted to savour his sudden newfound rights to the full, Binoy could not resist exercising them even without need.

  The night was intensely dark, the cloudless firmament covered in stars, the treeline on the shore still and silent like the night sky’s deep ink-black base, the wide river’s powerful current flowing silently beneath. In this setting, Lalita lay sleeping. This lovely, trustful sleep was all she had placed in Binoy’s hands today. Binoy had assumed the responsibility of guarding her sleep like a priceless jewel. With neither parents nor siblings near her, Lalita was sleeping peacefully, resting her beautiful form on an unfamiliar bed, her breath rising and falling very gently, as if in rhythm with the poem that was her slumber; not one braid of her skillfully coiled hairknot had come undone; those hands, with their tender feminine grace, lay on the bed in a posture of complete repose; her feet with their lovely flowerlike soles rested on the bed, stilling all her charming restlessness, like music at the end of a festival. This image of tranquil repose filled Binoy’s imagination. Like a miniscule pearl within an oyster, Lalita’s tiny spell of sleep in the midst of this dark, silent firmament adorned with planets and stars, appeared to Binoy today as his only precious possession. ‘I am awake, I am awake!’—like the fearless sound of a conchshell, these words arose from the expanded recesses of Binoy’s heart, floating up to the vast, endless sky to merge with the wordless utterance of the ever-watchful, wakeful being who presides over the great universe.

  On this night of the moon’s dark quarter, another thought continued to torment Binoy. Tonight, Gora was in jail! Until now, Binoy had shared all Gora’s joys and sorrows. This was the first time that it had happened otherwise. Binoy knew that for a person like Gora, the constraints of prison were of no consequence; but in this matter, from beginning to end, Binoy had not been involved with Gora at all; this important episode in Gora’s life had occurred entirely without Binoy’s participation. Once the course of their lives had diverged at this single point, could the two friends fill the gap when they were united again? Wasn’t there a breach now in the completeness of their friendship? A friendship so perfect, so rare! Tonight, simultaneously experiencing emptiness on one account and fulfillment on another, having arrived at a moment in his life where the forces of creation and destruction merged, Binoy gazed silently into the darkness.

  Had it indeed been purely due to circumstances that Binoy was unable to join Gora in his travels, or to share Gora’s travails in prison after he was sentenced, their friendship could not have been damaged. But it was not mere happenstance that Binoy was acting in a show while Gora set forth on his journey. It was because Binoy’s entire lifestream had deviated from the course of their former friendship that this outward separation had also become possible after so long. But now there was no denying the truth. It was no longer really possible for Binoy to singlemindedly adopt Gora’s unswerving path. But would their lifelong mutual love be altered due to this change of direction alone? This doubt made Binoy’s heart tremble. He knew Gora could not proceed without drawing all his friendship, his sense of duty, towards a single goal. How powerful Gora was! How fierce his desire! Fate had granted Gora’s nature the royal splendour to draw all his relationships into a victory march in celebration of that single desire.

  The hired cab stopped at Poreshbabu’s door. Binoy could clearly sense how Lalita’s legs trembled as she dismounted and how she braced herself when entering the house. Lalita herself was unable to gauge the extent of her guilt at the step she had impulsively taken. She knew Poreshbabu would not say anything that could be taken for a direct reprimand; for that very reason, it was his silence she feared most of all. Observing Lalita’s hesitation Binoy could not determine exactly what to do in such a situation. To test whether his presence would aggravate Lalita’s awkwardness, he said rather doubtfully:

  ‘I’ll take my leave then!’

  ‘No,’ said Lalita quickly. ‘Come, let’s go to Baba.’

  Binoy was secretly delighted at this desperate plea. Thinking that his duty was not over as soon as he had brought her home after all, that these sudden developments had created a special bond between himself and Lalita, Binoy seemed to stand by her with added confidence. The thought of Lalita’s dependence upon him was like a physical touch that electrified his entire body. He imagined Lalita was clutching his right hand. His male breast swelled at this contact with her. He privately expected that Poreshbabu would be incensed at Lalita’s stubborn antisocial stance, that he would admonish her, at which point Binoy would take as much of the blame as possible. He would unhesitatingly accept his share of the reprimand and like a suit of armour, try to protect Lalita from every onslaught.

  But Binoy had not understood Lalita’s actual state of mind. It was not merely because he could protect her from rebuke that she was reluctant to let him go. Truth be told, Lalita was incapable of subterfuge. She seemed to assume that all aspects of her action would be apparent to Poreshbabu and that she must accept the full consequences of her trial. Since that morning, Lalita had been secretly fuming at Binoy. She knew full well that her anger was unwarranted, but precisely for that reason, her fury increased instead of diminishing.

  While on the steamer, Lalita’s mood had been different. Since childhood, she had always managed to get into unimaginable scrapes, acting sometimes out of anger, sometimes out of stubbornness. But this time it was a serious matter. That Binoy should have been involved with her in this forbidden escapade caused her embarrassment on one hand and deep elation on the other. This elation seemed to be enhanced by its very forbiddenness. The way she had sought refuge with an outsider to her family, coming so close to him without her relatives as a protective barrier between them, could have caused great awkwardness. But Binoy’s natural civility had created such a restrained aura of propriety, that in this risky predicament, the knowledge of his fine sense of decency had delighted Lalita. This was surely not the same Binoy who always laughed and joked with everybody in their house, who prattled on without pause, whose familiarity even with the servants was open and free! Binoy had maintained such a distance where he could easily have claimed more time in Lalita’s company in the name of watchfulness, that this in itself had increased her secret sense of intimacy with him. At night, in the steamer cabin, all sorts of anxieties had kept her awake. As she tossed and turned, she presently felt sure that dawn must be approaching. Gently opening the cabin door she looked out and saw that the dew-drenched darkness of the late hours still enveloped the open sky above the river and the treeline along its shore. A cool breeze had just aroused gurgling sounds in the river, and below in the engine room there were signs of activity, as if the sailors were about to resume work. As soon as she stepped out of the cabin, Lalita found Binoy asleep on a cane chair not far away, a warm wrap around his shoulders. The sight at once set her heart racing. Binoy had stayed there all night guarding her! So near and yet so far! With trembling footsteps Lalita immediately left the deck and returned to her cabin. Standing at the door on that autumnal Hemanta dawn, she gazed at Binoy’s solitary sleeping figure, within that darkness-enshrouded, unfamiliar riverine landscape. To her, the stars on the horizon before her seemed to encircle Binoy’s slumber; her whole heart brimmed with an indescribable
solemnity and sweetness; why her eyes so swiftly filled with tears she could not understand. The deity she had been taught by her father to worship seemed to bless her today. And on this sleeping rivershore dense with foliage, at the sacred moment of union when the night’s darkness first secretly embraces the new light of dawn, at the full assembly of stars in the firmament, a divine melody rang out on the unstirred strings of the vast cosmic mahaveena, like unbearably exquisite pangs of joy. Just then Binoy’s hand twitched slightly in his sleep. Lalita quickly shut the cabin door and lay down in her bed. Her palms and soles turned cold. For a long time, she was unable to quell the restlessness of her heart.

  The darkness faded. The steamer was on the move. Having washed and dressed, Lalita came out and stood leaning on the railing. Binoy too, having already awakened at the sound of the steamer horn, was ready and waiting to watch the dawn break over the eastern shore. As soon as Lalita emerged, he grew embarrassed and prepared to leave.

  ‘Binoybabu!’ she called out at once.

  ‘You probably didn’t sleep well at night,’ she observed when he came close.

  ‘I didn’t sleep too badly.’

  After this, neither of them said a word. At the far end of the dew-moist kash fields with their tall feathery reeds, shone the golden radiance of approaching sunrise. Neither of them had ever witnessed such a sunrise before. The light had never touched them in this way. For the first time they realized that the sky was not empty, that it gazed steadfastly at Creation in silent wondrous bliss. Such an intense awareness had awakened in their hearts that they seemed to physically collide with the innermost consciousness of the entire universe. Neither of them uttered a word.

  The steamer arrived at Kolkata. Hiring a cab at the ghaat, Binoy settled Lalita within and took his place beside the coachman. Travelling in the carriage on these Kolkata streets in the daytime, why Lalita’s thoughts underwent a reversal, who could say! That Binoy was on the steamer at this time of crisis, that Lalita had become involved with him in this way, that he was escorting her home as if he was her guardian—all these things began to torment her. She now found it intolerable that Binoy should have acquired a certain authority over her by force of circumstance. Why should it be so! Why did that music of the night end on such a harsh note when confronted with the daytime workaday world! So when Binoy came to the door and asked hesitatingly, ‘I’ll take my leave then?’ Lalita was even more annoyed.

  ‘Binoybabu thinks I’m ashamed to face my father in his company,’ she thought. To demonstrate emphatically that she had no qualms about this, and to present the complete facts of the case to her father, she was reluctant to let Binoy depart from the doorstep like a culprit. She wanted her relationship with Binoy to revert to its former transparent footing. She did not want to appear to Binoy in a reductive light by allowing any constraint or any hazy fantasy to linger as an obstacle between them.

  ~31~

  As soon as he saw Binoy and Lalita, Satish rushed up, placed himself between them, and held their hands.

  ‘Why, hasn’t Borodidi come?’ he demanded.

  Binoy patted his pocket, looked all around and said: ‘Borodidi! Really, what could have happened! She is lost.’

  ‘Ish!’ exclaimed Satish, giving Binoy a shove. ‘Indeed! I don’t believe you! Lalitadidi, please answer me!’

  ‘Borodidi will come tomorrow’ said Lalita, and headed for Poreshbabu’s room.

  ‘Come and see who is here,’ Satish insisted, dragging Binoy and Lalita by the hand.

  ‘It doesn’t matter who’s here,’ said Lalita, pulling her hand away. ‘Don’t bother us now. We’re going to Baba.’

  ‘Baba is out. He’ll be back late.’

  Hearing this, both Binoy and Lalita felt a temporary sense of relief.

  ‘Who is our visitor?’ Lalita wanted to know.

  ‘I shan’t tell you. Achchha Binoybabu, can you guess who is here? You can never guess. Never never!’

  Binoy began to suggest some preposterously impossible and inappropriate names: Sirajuddaula, Raja Nabokrishna, at one point even Nandokumar. Satish protested loudly, offering irrefutable reasons why such an assembly of guests was utterly impossible.

  ‘True indeed,’ conceded Binoy, acknowledging defeat. ‘It hadn’t occurred to me before that there might be some serious reasons why Sirajuddaula would find it inconvenient to visit this house. Anyway, let your didi investigate the matter first. Then, if necessary, I’ll come as soon as you send word.’

  ‘No, both of you must come,’ Satish persisted.

  ‘Which room must we go to?’ asked Lalita.

  ‘The room on the second floor.’

  In a corner of the second floor terrace was a small attic with a jutting tiled roof sloping southwards to keep out the sun and rain. There beneath that sloping sunshade, the duo following in Satish’s wake found a bespectacled elderly lady reading Krittivasa’s Ramayana on a small mat. The broken end of her spectacle frame was tied with a string, secured behind her ear. She would be about forty-five. The hair had thinned in front, but her fair countenance was still almost perfectly smooth, like a ripe fruit. Between her brows was a tattoo mark. She was in widow’s garb, her form unadorned. Spotting Lalita first, she hastily removed her spectacles, and abandoning her book, she gazed at her face with special eagerness. The next moment, seeing Binoy following behind Lalita, she swiftly rose to her feet, pulled her sari aanchal over her head and prepared to retreat into the room. Satish rushed up to hug her.

  ‘Mashima, why are you running away?’ he demanded. ‘This is our Lalitadidi, and this is Binoybabu. Borodidi will arrive tomorrow.’

  This brief introduction to Binoybabu was enough; there had undoubtedly been plenty of discussion about him already. At the slightest opportunity Satish would hold forth on the few subjects in the world he was equipped to speak about, and he kept nothing back. Not understanding who the term ‘Mashima’ might refer to here, Lalita stood transfixed in amazement. When Binoy touched this elderly woman’s feet in a pranam, Lalita followed his example. Mashima hurriedly fetched a mat from the room and spread it out.

  ‘Sit, baba. Please sit down, ma.’

  When Binoy and Lalita had settled on the mat, she resumed her place on her own mat with Satish close to her. Embracing Satish firmly with her right arm, she declared:

  ‘You don’t know me, all of you. I am Satish’s mashi. His mother was my own elder sister.’

  This brief introduction did not reveal much, but there was something in Mashima’s face and voice that manifested a pure, tear-bright hint of the deep sorrows of her life. When she clasped Satish to her bosom declaring ‘I am Satish’s mashi,’ Binoy’s heart ached in sympathy even without knowing anything of this woman’s life history.

  ‘You can’t be Satish’s mashi alone, for then Satish and I will quarrel for the first time in all this while. As it is Satish calls me Binoybabu, not Dada. For him to deprive me of Mashima as well would be utterly unfair.’

  It did not take Binoy long to win people over. In no time at all this young man with his charming appearance and pleasing speech had usurped part of Satish’s dominion in Mashima’s heart.

  ‘Where is your mother, my son?’ Mashima asked him.

  ‘I lost my own mother long ago,’ Binoy replied, ‘but I can’t say that I have no mother.’

  As he spoke, he remembered Anandamoyi and his eyes instantly grew moist, as if misted over by emotion. The conversation between the two of them became very animated. One could never have guessed that they were new acquaintances. Satish began to interrupt this dialogue with utterly irrelevant opinions of his own. Lalita remained silent.

  Lalita seemed to find it difficult to express herself easily, even if she tried. She took very long to break the inhibitions of a first meeting. Besides, she was not in a good mood today. She did not like the way Binoy was effortlessly chatting with this unknown woman; privately, she condemned his frivolity in remaining so free of anxiety, heedless of the gravity of Lalita’s p
redicament. Not that Binoy could have escaped Lalita’s displeasure if he had remained morose and silent, with a grave expression; for then, surely, Lalita would have angrily said to herself: ‘It is I who must confront my father, but Binoybabu is behaving as if he must shoulder all the blame!’ Truth be told, in the broad light of day the impact that had struck a musical note last night now only produced chords of pain. Nothing was as it should be. That was why Lalita was mentally taking Binoy to task at every step. Nothing he did could have prevented this quarrel. The Almighty alone knew the root cause that must be addressed, for the problem to be solved.

  Alas, why should women, who deal solely in matters of the heart, be condemned as irrational? If the heart is in the right place to begin with, it functions so easily and beautifully that all rational arguments bow to it in defeat. But should the slightest trouble occur in the beginning, it is beyond the brain’s capacity to repair that instrument. It is fruitless then to even try gauging how anger and indifference, laughter and tears, lead from one thing to another.

  Meanwhile it was not as if Binoy’s heart-machine was functioning quite normally either. If its condition had remained exactly as before, he would have rushed to Anandamoyi this very moment. Who but Binoy could break the news of Gora’s jail sentence to his mother? Who else did she have to console her! This painful thought was like a huge weight grinding away constantly at the bottom of his heart. But it had become impossible for him to part from Lalita immediately. He was trying to convince himself that he was now Lalita’s sole protector against the whole world, and that if any intervention was required when Lalita faced Poreshbabu, he must discharge those duties before departing. His heart was easily convinced; it had no capacity to resist. However deep his anguish for Gora and Anandamoyi, Lalita’s close proximity delighted Binoy so much, made him feel so expansive, made the whole world seem so glorious, gave him such a distinctive sense of identity, that his pain remained buried in the lower reaches of his heart. Today he could not meet Lalita’s eyes. Even the tiniest glimpses that caught his eye every now and then—a corner of her clothing, a hand resting quietly on her lap—instantly made him ecstatic.