‘Do you speak from your own experience when you say these things about religion?’ asked Sucharita, without answering his question.
‘In other words,’ smiled Gora, ‘you want to know whether I have ever sought Ishwar. No, my mind has never been inclined that way.’
His words should not have pleased Sucharita, yet she could not help feeling relieved. She felt rather comforted that Gora had no right to speak assertively in these matters.
‘I claim no right to offer religious guidance to anybody,’ Gora admitted. ‘But I also cannot tolerate it if all of you should mock the beliefs of my countrymen. You call out to our people: “You are foolish, you idol worshippers.” But I want to call all of them to announce: “No, you are not foolish, nor idol worshippers, but wise, and devoted!” By professing my respect, I want to awaken the nation’s heart to the greatness of our sacred philosophy, the profundity of our devotional tradition. I want to arouse its pride in its own riches. I shall not let the country bow its head in shame, nor make it blind to its own reality by generating self-hatred. That is my vow. That is also why I have come to you today. Ever since we met, a new idea haunts my mind, night and day. I had not thought of it before. I constantly feel that Bharatvarsha cannot be completely represented through the masculine perspective alone. Its existence will be fully realized only when manifest to the eyes of our women. I seem to be consumed by the desire that you and I should jointly keep the nation’s image before us. As a man I may strive to death for my Bharatvarsha, but without you, who would ceremonially welcome the nation with a lighted lamp? If you remain distanced from it, the act of serving Bharatvarsha can never acquire beauty.’
Where was Bharatvarsha, alas! And where, far removed from it, was Sucharita! Where did he come from, this worshipper of Bharatvarsha, this delirious ascetic! Why, pushing all others away, did he take his place by her side! Why, ignoring all others, did he call out to her! Without any diffidence, brooking no opposition! Why did he say: ‘We can’t do without you, I have come to take you away, our yajna, this holy sacrifice, will not be complete without you’? Tears streamed from Sucharita’s eyes, but she could not fathom why. Gora glanced at her face. She did not lower her tearful eyes before that glance. Like a dew-bedecked blossom, free of care, her gaze turned itself unselfconsciously upon Gora’s face.
Before those unconstrained, undoubting, tear-flooded eyes, Gora’s entire being seemed to tremble like a stone palace in the throes of an earthquake. With supreme effort he turned away, looking out of the window to regain self-control. It had grown dark. Where the alleyway narrowed, joining the main road, stars were visible against the stone-black darkness of the open sky. That piece of sky, those few stars, carried Gora’s soul away tonight, to a place remote from all worldly demands, far, far away from the mundane routines assigned for this workaday world! Transcending the rise and fall of so many kingdoms and empires, far beyond the efforts and prayers of so many ages, that patch of sky and those few stars were waiting, in complete detachment. Yet when one heart called out to another from within the bottomless abyss, that wordless yearning from the solitary edge of the world seemed to set off a vibration in that remote sky, in those stars so far away. At this moment, the movement of traffic and pedestrians on the busy Kolkata streets appeared shadowy and immaterial to Gora’s eyes. The hubbub of the city did not reach him at all. Glancing within his own heart he found that he too was silent, lonely and dark like that sky. There, it seemed, a pair of tear-filled, simple, sorrowful eyes had been gazing at him unblinkingly, from before the beginning of time, towards an eternal future.
‘Baba, please taste some sweets before you leave.’
At the sound of Harimohini’s voice, Gora started and turned around. ‘Not tonight I’m afraid,’ he declared hastily. ‘You must excuse me tonight. I’m leaving right away.’ Gora rushed from the place without waiting for any more words.
Harimohini stared at Sucharita in surprise. Sucharita left the room. What was this astounding situation? Harimohini wondered to herself, shaking her head.
Not long after, Poreshbabu arrived there. Not seeing Sucharita in her room, he went to Harimohini and asked:
‘Where is Radharani?’
‘How would I know?’ responded Harimohini, sounding annoyed. ‘She was chatting with Gourmohan in the sitting room all this while. Now I suppose she’s walking on the terrace by herself.’
‘Walking on the terrace so late at night, in such cold weather?’ asked Poresh in surprise.
‘Let her cool down a little,’ declared Harimohini. ‘A bit of cold will not harm these girls of today.’
Because Harimohini was feeling upset that evening, she had not sent for Sucharita at mealtime. Sucharita too had lost all sense of time.
When Poreshbabu himself came up to the terrace, Sucharita felt very embarrassed. ‘Come Baba, let’s go downstairs,’ she insisted. ‘You will catch a chill.’
Back in the room, when she saw Poresh’s anxious face in the lamplight, Sucharita felt deeply disturbed. Severing all her childhood ties, who was now drawing her away from the man who for so long had been both father and guru to a fatherless girl! Sucharita felt she could never forgive herself. When Poresh sank down on the chowki in fatigue, Sucharita stood behind the chowki to hide her uncontrollable tears, and began to stroke his grey hair.
‘Binoy has refused to accept initiation,’ Poresh informed her. Sucharita offered no reply.
‘I had many doubts about Binoy’s initiation,’ Poresh continued. ‘So I was not greatly upset. But from Lalita’s tone, I can sense that she sees no obstacle to her marrying Binoy even without his initiation.’
‘No Baba, that cannot happen,’ Sucharita suddenly exclaimed, very vehemently. ‘Never!’ She generally did not speak with such unwarranted urgency. Rather surprised at this sudden emotional force in her voice, Poresh asked:
‘What cannot happen?’
‘If Binoy does not become a Brahmo, what rites will be followed at the wedding ceremony?’
‘Hindu rites,’ Poresh declared.
‘No, no,’ protested Sucharita, vigorously shaking her head. ‘What sort of things are we speaking of these days! One should not entertain such ideas at all. That idol worship should take place at Lalita’s marriage, ultimately! I can never allow that to happen.’
It was because she felt drawn to Gora that Sucharita showed such unaccustomed agitation at the mention of a Hindu wedding. The fact of the matter, concealed within this agitation, was that she was holding Poreshbabu to a certain position as if saying: ‘I shall not let you go. Even now, I shall not, by any means, allow my bonds with your community, your worldview, to be severed.’
‘Binoy has agreed to dispense with the shaligram at the wedding ceremony,’ Poresh informed her. From her place behind the chowki, Sucharita came forward to take a chowki facing him. ‘What do you say to that?’ he asked her.
‘In that case, Lalita must leave our community,’ she replied after a brief pause.
‘I have had to think deeply about this,’ Poresh told her. ‘When a person comes into conflict with society, there are two things to be considered: of the two sides, who is just, and who is more powerful. Since society is undoubtedly more powerful, the rebel must suffer. Lalita assures me repeatedly that she is not only prepared for suffering, but also happy to embrace it. If that is true, how can I stop her unless I perceive something unjust in it?’
‘But Baba, what sort of development will this be?’
‘I know it will cause some trouble. But since there is nothing wrong in Lalita’s marrying Binoy, since in fact it is justified, my heart tells me it is not our duty to accept the objections offered by the community. It can never be true that it is the human being who must always submit to social considerations. It is society that must constantly grow and extend itself for the sake of human beings. Hence I cannot bring myself to blame those who are willing to undergo suffering on this account.’
‘Baba, it is you who must suffer the most on t
his account,’ Sucharita reminded him.
‘That is not a consideration at all.’
‘Baba, have you given your consent?’
‘No, not yet. But I must. Given the path Lalita has taken, who but I can offer her blessings and who but Ishwar can come to her aid?’
After Poreshbabu left, Sucharita remained stupefied. She knew how much Poresh privately loved Lalita. She had no illusions about the extent of his distress at the fact that Lalita was abandoning the prescribed path to enter a realm of such great uncertainty. Still, at his age, he was ready to support such a rebellion, and yet, how little bitterness he harboured! He had never displayed his own strength at all, yet how immense was the power that lay easily concealed within him!
Formerly, this aspect of Poreshbabu’s nature would not have struck her as unusual, for indeed she had known him since childhood. But because Sucharita’s whole inner being had endured Gora’s assaults only a little while earlier that day, she could not help feeling, very clearly, the complete contrast between these two types of human nature. How tremendously Gora’s own desires mattered to him! And with what overwhelming power he could impose these desires upon others! Anyone who accepted any sort of relationship with Gora must bow to his will. Sucharita had submitted that day, and even derived pleasure from it, feeling she had gained something significant from her self-surrender. But still, when Poresh, his head bent with worry, emerged slowly from the lamplight in her chamber into the darkness outside, it was after contrasting his image with Gora’s youthful radiance that Sucharita inwardly offered up her special reverence at Poresh’s feet. And for a long time she sat calmly, hands folded in her lap, motionless as a picture.
~61~
That day there was a great to-do in Gora’s house, starting from dawn. First Mahim appeared, puffing away at his hookah.
‘So Binoy has finally flown the cage, it seems?’ he asked Gora.
Gora stared at Mahim in bewilderment.
‘What’s the point trying to fool us any longer?’ said Mahim. ‘After all the news about your friend is no secret anymore—it’s being drummed all over town. Look here, look at this.’
Mahim handed Gora a Bengali newspaper. It contained a pointed article about the news of Binoy’s initiation into the Brahmo Samaj that very day. The writer had deployed a great deal of harsh rhetoric to elaborate upon the fact that while Gora was in jail, some eminent members of the Brahmo Samaj, burdened with marriageable daughters, had secretly tempted this weak-willed young man away from the sacred Hindu community. When Gora denied any knowledge of this news, Mahim refused to believe him at first. Then he repeatedly expressed his amazement at such profound deceit on Binoy’s part. Before leaving he added that when Binoy started equivocating even after clearly agreeing to marry Shashimukhi, they should have realized he was already headed for disaster.
‘Gourmohanbabu, what a terrible situation!’ cried Abinash, who now arrived, breathless and panting. ‘This is beyond anything we could have dreamt of! That Binoybabu should ultimately …’ Abinash could not finish what he was saying. So delighted was he at Binoy’s ignominy that it had become hard for him to feign worry or anxiety.
In no time all the prominent members of Gora’s group had assembled there. Binoy became the subject of a heated discussion among them. Most of them agreed there was nothing surprising in the present development for they had always noticed signs of vacillation and weakness in Binoy’s conduct. In fact, Binoy had never surrendered himself wholeheartedly to their group. Many of them declared that Binoy from the outset had tried to somehow pass himself off as Gora’s equal, a tendency they could not tolerate. Where all others, out of deference, had maintained an appropriate distance from Gora, Binoy would go out of his way to show his intimacy with Gora, as if he was different from everyone else, and on an equal footing with Gora. It was because of Gora’s affection for Binoy that everyone tolerated such extraordinary brazenness. This sort of unbridled arrogance always led to such deplorable results.
‘We are not learned like Binoybabu,’ they asserted, ‘nor do we boast of great intellect. But bapu, we have always followed a principle. We don’t say one thing and believe in another. Call us fools if you like, or idiots, or what you please, but we are incapable of acting one way today and another way tomorrow.’
Gora added not a word to this discussion. He sat silent and motionless. As the day advanced, after they had all gone away, one by one, Gora saw Binoy going up the staircase at the side without entering his room.
‘Binoy!’ called Gora, rushing out of his room.
Binoy came down the stairs. As soon as he entered the room, Gora said: ‘Binoy, have I unwittingly wronged you in some way? You seem to have abandoned me.’
Having already decided that he and Gora would quarrel today, Binoy had come there with a hardened heart. But now, seeing Gora’s dejected expression and sensing an aching tenderness in his voice, his mental defences crumbled instantly.
‘Bhai Gora,’ he exclaimed, ‘please don’t misunderstand me. Life brings many changes, and one must give up many things, but why would I give up a friendship?’
‘Binoy, have you been initiated into the Brahmo Samaj?’ asked Gora after a short silence.
‘No Gora, I have not, and I shall not, either. But I don’t wish to give the matter any importance.’
‘What does that mean?’
‘It means I no longer feel there is any need for a great hue and cry about whether I accept the Brahmo path or not.’
‘What were your feelings formerly, and what are they at present, may I ask?’
At Gora’s tone Binoy again braced himself for battle. ‘Formerly,’ he declared, ‘if I heard of anyone converting to Brahmoism, I would be enraged and wish him to be specially punished for it. But now I no longer feel that way. I feel one can counter opinion with opinion and argument with argument, but to punish an intellectual act with anger is barbaric.’
‘You will no longer be enraged at seeing a Hindu become a Brahmo, but seeing a Brahmo perform penance to convert to Hinduism, you will blaze with fury,’ asserted Gora. ‘That’s the difference between your former state and your present one.’
‘You say this because you are angry with me; your words are not spoken judiciously.’
‘I say this out of respect for you,’ Gora insisted. ‘Things should indeed have turned out this way. It would have been the same with me. If adopting or rejecting religious beliefs were a superficial matter, no different from the colour changes of a chameleon, there would be no problem at all. But because it was a matter of inner significance, I could not take it lightly. If there were no hindrances, if one did not have to pay a penalty, why would a person use all his intellectual powers when accepting or altering an attitude towards some significant issue? One must prove to people whether one is acknowledging the truth solely because it is true. One must accept the penalty for it. To claim the jewel without paying its price—trading in truth is not such an artful business.’
There was no longer any check on the argument. Words met words like a volley of arrows, clashing in a shower of sparks.
‘Gora,’ Binoy asserted, finally rising to his feet after a long war of words, ‘there’s a basic difference between your nature and mine. All this while, it had remained suppressed; whenever it threatened to rear its head, it was I who forced it to subside, aware that you don’t know how to compromise where you detect any difference. You just rush on, sword in hand. So to protect our friendship, I have always repressed my own nature. Now I realize that this was not beneficial and can never be.’
‘What are you intentions now?’ Gora inquired. ‘Please tell me frankly.’
‘Now I stand alone,’ Binoy declared. ‘That one must somehow pacify the monster called society by daily sacrificing human beings to him, and bear the yoke of his dominance by whatever means whether it kills one or not, is something I can never accept.’
‘So will you set out to kill the stork-headed demon Bakasur with a straw, like th
e Brahman-infant in the Mahabharata?’ taunted Gora.
‘I don’t know if my straw would destroy Bakasur,’ retorted Binoy, ‘but I can never accept that he has the right to chew me up, not even while he is chewing me up!’
‘You speak in metaphors,’ complained Gora. ‘All this is hard to understand.’
‘It’s not hard for you to understand,’ countered Binoy, ‘accepting it is what you find difficult. You know as well as I do, that where man is independent in nature, independent in his religious beliefs, our society imposes meaningless restrictions even upon his food, sleep and rest. But you want to use force to obey this enforcement. Today I declare that I shall not submit to force from any quarters, in such matters. I shall accept the claims of society as long as it protects my rightful demands. If society does not count me as a human being, if it tries to make me a clockwork toy, I too shall not worship it with flowers and sandalwood. I shall consider it an iron machine, nothing more.’
‘So, in short, you will become a Brahmo?’ Gora asked.
‘No.’
‘Will you marry Lalita?’
‘Yes.’
‘By Hindu rites?’
‘Yes.’
‘Does Poreshbabu approve?’
‘Here is his letter.’
Gora read Poresh’s letter twice over. The concluding lines read:
I shall not mention my own likes and dislikes at all. Nor do I want to discuss your convenience or inconvenience. The nature of my beliefs, and the community to which I belong, are known to both of you. Nor are you unaware of the education Lalita has received since her childhood and the traditions within which she has been brought up. Knowing all this fully well, you have chosen your path. I have nothing more to say. Do not imagine that I have given up hope without thinking about anything or because I can’t find a way out. To the best of my ability I have thought about it. I have realized that there is no religious cause to oppose your union for I have full respect for you. In such a situation you are not obliged to accept any objections raised by society. I just have a small thing to say: if you wish to exceed the limits of society then you must rise above society, be greater than it. Let your love, your conjugal life, not merely signal revolt but also contain elements of creativity and stability. It is not enough to suddenly express a certain daring in this single undertaking; after this you must let the thread of heroism run through all your life’s works, or you will become utterly degraded. For society will no longer support you from the outside on an equal footing with the ordinary populace. If you cannot rise above the masses on your own strength, you must descend to a level beneath them. I remain gravely concerned about your future welfare. But I have no right to hold you back because of this concern. For in this world, those who have the courage to solve ever-new problems by the example of their own lives are the ones who raise society to greater heights. Those who merely follow rules only support society, they do not help it advance. Hence I shall not block your path with my timidity and my anxieties. Follow what you have chosen to believe, in the face of all adversities, and may Ishwar support you. Ishwar does not chain Creation to a single state of being; through ever-new transformations, he awakens it to eternal renewal. As the emissaries of that renewal, you two are forging ahead on a difficult path, lighting the way with the flaming torch of your lives, guided by the One who steers the entire universe. I cannot impose upon you the restriction of having always to follow my path alone. At your age, we too had once unmoored our boat and set it afloat in the face of a storm, brooking no prohibitions. I do not regret that to this day. Even if there had been cause for regret, what of it? Human beings must err, be thwarted, suffer pain, but they cannot remain still. They must surrender their lives to what they understand to be right. In this way, the pure stream of this world’s river will remain ever-flowing and unpolluted. To dam the flood forever, fearing it might occasionally erode the river banks causing temporary damage, would bring pestilence upon us; that I know for sure. Hence I offer my devoted pranam to the force that draws you at relentless speed beyond the boundaries of happiness, ease and social law, and I leave you in His hands. May He make it all worthwhile, all the shame, humiliation and separation from kin that you have suffered in your lives. It is He who has summoned you to this difficult path, and it is He who will guide you to your destination.
Gora (Modern Classics) Page 42
