It again occurred to Kamal that this man had no feelings. He was almost like a machine. Some mysterious compulsion impelled him continually to work, and he went on working. He did not work for any profit to himself, nor even perhaps with any expectation. Activity was rooted in his blood; it came as easily to him as the air he breathed and the water he drank. But others were amazed by it and wondered how it was possible. Kamal said, ‘Well, Rajen, you are yourself a doctor, aren’t you?’
‘A doctor? No. I only studied at that Medical School for some time.’
‘Then who’s looking after him?’
‘Yama.’
‘What do you do then?’
‘I canvass on his behalf. I’m his admiring Chief Disciple.’ He looked at Kamal’s bewildered face for a moment and smiled. ‘He’s not only Yama but King Yama. I salute the man who first hailed him as king, for king indeed he is—as kind as wise. If there really is a creator of this universe, then I’ll wager Yama is His best creation.’
Kamal asked in a subdued tone, ‘Are you being facetious, Rajen?’
‘Not at all. When Satish-da hears me, he turns grave; Haren-da loses his temper and calls me a cynic. At their ashram they have collectively sharpened various strange weapons of austerity like rigour, self-control and sacrifice, and have declared war on Lord Yama, so they think I’m deriding them. But I’m not doing that. They don’t visit the slums where the poor live. If they did I think they would grow very loyal to the King. With hearts full of reverence, they would sing the praises of the Lord of Death and would not upbraid him for being malign.’
Kamal said, ‘If you really hold this view, is it wrong to call you a cynic?’
‘We can judge of the wrong later. Will you come once with me to the leather workers’ slum? They’re ready and waiting, not only for the present spate of influenza but any other occasion—cholera, smallpox, plague. There’s no medicine, no diet, no bed to lie on, nothing to cover their bodies with, no one to give them water—if one sees it suddenly one wonders if there’s a solution to it all. Then I see the solution, stop worrying and say to myself, “Don’t be afraid, my man—however hard the problem might be, He who’s charged with solving it will soon be here.” In other countries there are other arrangements, but in this Land of the Gods the King of Kings has himself taken charge. In that way we are much more fortunate. But how did we get talking about such things? Come, it’s getting late, we have a long way to walk.’
‘But won’t you have to walk back the same distance?’
‘Yes, I will.’
‘How far is your leather workers’ slum?’
‘Quite near. Within a mile or so.’
‘Then cycle there and see them. I’ll wait till you return.’
Rajen said in astonishment, ‘How can that be? You haven’t eaten for two days.’
‘Who told you so?’
‘You remember we were talking about sudden impulses. I found this out on an impulse. I peeped inside your kitchen as I came by. The rice was cooked and waiting, but the state of the rice bowl left no doubt it was last night’s. That means two days of total fasting. So either come with me, or eat what I’ve brought. The excuse of cooking your own food won’t serve today.’
‘Won’t serve!’ repeated Kamal, smiling a little. ‘But why are you so worried about me?’
‘I don’t know why. I’m trying to find out. I’ll let you know as soon as I do.’
Kamal reflected for a while. She said, ‘Do, don’t be shy.’ Again she fell silent, then resumed, ‘Rajen, your elders at the ashram have scarcely known you for what you are; so they think of you as a nuisance. But I know you, and you should know me too. But that needs time. It won’t happen by our bandying words.’ She remained still for a little while and then said, ‘I cook my own food, eat only once, and that too the food of the poorest—a handful of rice and dal. I have not taken any vow on the matter, so I can break the rule when I like. But I shall not break it simply because I haven’t eaten anything for two days. I shan’t forget your concern, Rajen, but I can’t do what you say. Don’t be cross.’
‘I won’t’
‘What are you thinking?’
‘I’m thinking that our introductory session hasn’t gone too badly. I don’t think I’ll forget it soon.’
‘Why should I let you forget it soon?’ said Kamal, suddenly breaking into a laugh. ‘But don’t wait any longer. Go, but come back as soon as possible. I’ll spread a blanket over that big armchair. After a few hours’ sleep, we’ll go home in the morning. All right?’
Rajen nodded and said, ‘All right. I thought I’d have to spend another sleepless night. But I’ve been granted leave: you’ve taken charge of nursing your husband. Very well. I don’t think I’ll be late in returning; don’t fall asleep before I come.’
‘No,’ said Kamal, ‘but who told you that this man is my husband? Perhaps the Punjabi gentlemen? Whoever told you was joking. If you don’t believe me, ask him one day.’
Rajen did not say anything. He went out silently.
Shibnath seemed to have been waiting for this. He turned on his side, opened his eyes and asked, ‘Who was that man?’ Kamal was taken aback at the sound. His voice was clear, without any trace of weariness. His glance was a little drowsy, but his face looked almost normal, with no more than the weariness of a man suddenly woken from sleep. Kamal could not believe that such a serious illness could have abated so soon. Hence she took a long time to reply. Shibnath again asked, ‘Who was that man, Shibani? Did he bring you here?’
‘Yes, he brought me, and he also brought you here yesterday.’
‘What’s his name?’
‘Rajendra.’
‘Do the two of you stay in the same house now?’
‘That’s what I’m trying to arrange. I’ll be lucky if he agrees.’
‘I see. Why did you bring him here?’
Kamal did not reply to this, nor did Shibnath ask anything more. He closed his eyes and lay still. After a long silence he asked, ‘Who told you that I have nothing more to do with you? Do people say that I’ve said so?’
Kamal did not reply to this either, but put a question. ‘Even if I didn’t realize you hadn’t married me, surely you knew it yourself? Why didn’t you tell me so when you went away? Were you afraid that I might stop you, or weep and beat my head and create a scene? You knew very well that I’m not like that. So why didn’t you tell me?’
Shibnath was silent for a few moments; then he said, ‘If I rent a separate house for a few days to cope with the pressure of business, does it mean I’ve deserted you? I’d thought …’
He could not finish. Kamal stopped him, saying, ‘Let it be, I don’t want to know all that.’ But as she said this, she felt ashamed of her own agitation. She fell silent for a while, calmed herself and at last asked, ‘Were you really ill?’
‘What else?’
‘Then why did you go to Ashu Babu’s place instead of mine? Your earlier conduct hurt me, but this has utterly humiliated me. I know you’ll gloat to yourself on hearing that I’ve been hurt, but this knowledge is my consolation. I can endure my sorrow only because you are base; I couldn’t have otherwise.’
Shibnath stayed silent. Looking fixedly at him, Kamal continued, ‘You know I’ve endured everything, but I couldn’t endure driving you out of the house. That’s why I’ve come here to nurse you—not to win you back.’
Shibnath said slowly, ‘I’m grateful to you for your kindness, Shibani.’
Kamal said, ‘Don’t call me Shibani. Call me Kamal.’
‘Why?’
‘I feel revolted when I hear that name. That’s why.’
‘But this was the name you once loved best to hear!’ He gently took Kamal’s hand between his own. Kamal did not move. She found it distasteful even to tug her hand away.
‘Why do you keep quiet and not answer?’
Kamal remained speechless as before.
‘What are you thinking, Shibani? Tell me.’
&nb
sp; ‘Do you know what I’m thinking? I’m thinking how wicked you must be to remind me of that fact.’
Shibnath’s eyes glistened with tears. He said, ‘I’m not wicked, Shibani. One day you’ll see your mistake and your remorse will know no bounds. Why I rented another house …’
‘Have I asked you even once why you rented another house? I only wanted to know why you didn’t tell me before coming away. I wouldn’t have held you back even for a day.’
Tears filled Shibnath’s eyes. He said, ‘I didn’t have the courage to tell you, Shibani.’
‘Why?’
Shibnath wiped his eyes on his shirtsleeve and said, ‘First of all there was so little money, and then I had to go somewhere or other every day—to buy stones, to dispatch goods. So I thought a house nearer the station …’
Kamal rose from the bed, sat in a chair at a distance and said, ‘I don’t feel sorry for myself any more, only for someone else. But today I even feel sorry for you, Shibnath Babu.’
It had been a long time since she had addressed him by his name. She said, ‘Look, you can’t carry on trading in the world’s market with downright deception as your sole capital. Perhaps you won’t meet me again, but you will remember me. Let bygones be bygones. But in future, try to see life from a different angle. If you do, you might even be happy. Don’t forget this—please don’t. Even now I really wish you well, and that you may be well.’
Kamal struggled to hold back her tears. Even after this conversation, she could not hit Shibnath so hard as to tell him why Ashu Babu had had him moved out of his house.
A cycle bell rang outside. Shibnath fell silent and turned over on his side.
Rajen came in and said in a low voice, ‘Ah! So you’re still awake. How’s the patient? Did you give him any more medicines?’
Kamal shook her head and said, ‘No, I didn’t give him anything more.’
Rajen pointed to the patient and said, ‘Let’s be quiet, else he’ll wake up. That won’t do him any good.’
‘No. But what have your leather workers been up to?’
‘They’re good people; they’ve kept their word. Before I got there, Lord Yama’s buffalo had carried off the two souls; all I need to do is hand over the two bodies to the municipal buffalo cart tomorrow morning. About eight others are gasping—I’ll take you along tomorrow to see them. I think you’ll learn a lot. But what about my rug-bed in the armchair? Have you forgotten about it?’
Kamal made up the bed. ‘Ah! What comfort,’ sighed Rajen as he lay down, stretching his legs along the arms of the chair. He said, ‘I’m sweating with all this running about. Have you got a fan?’
Kamal picked up a fan and drew her chair close to him. ‘Go to sleep; I’ll fan you. There’s no need to worry about the patient. He’s all right.’
‘Fine! So everything’s all right.’ And he closed his eyes.
18
INFLUENZA WAS NOT AN ENTIRELY NEW DISEASE IN THIS LAND. People used to call it ‘dengue’ and treat it with neglect and contempt, thinking it could do no more than cause a few days’ suffering. No one ever imagined it could so rapidly assume such an epidemic, uncontrollable form. Hence people were first dumbstruck by the stern cruelty of its unlimited power. Then those who could, began to flee. Relatives counted for no more than strangers. Nursing was out of the question: many patients did not even have anyone to give them a last drop of water. Whether in town or village, the situation was the same.
The state of Agra was no different. Within a few days, the appearance of this densely populated, prosperous town changed completely. Schools and colleges were closed, the shops in the markets shut down, and the river bank was almost desolate. The main roads were silent and deserted except for the timorous footsteps of Hindu and Muslim corpse-bearers. Looking around, it seemed that not only the people but even the trees, houses and buildings had turned pale with fear.
As the town lay sunk in this state, many of the inhabitants, burning with anxiety, sorrow and bereavement, made up their differences. It did not require the effort of discussion or mediation—it just happened. Those who had still survived, those who had not yet been obliterated from the face of the earth, seemed by virtue of that to be close kin to each other. People who had not spoken to each other for a long time now met on the street with moist eyes: one’s brother, another’s child or wife had died meanwhile. They no longer had the strength of mind to turn away their faces in hatred. Sometimes they exchanged words; sometimes not, only taking their leave silently, wishing each other well.
Not many in the leather workers’ quarter survived. As many died as fled. Rajen alone was enough to look after the remaining ones: he had taken charge of their final destiny. Kamal had come to join him as assistant, confident in her youthful experience of nursing sick coolies in the tea garden. But within two or three days, she realized that the resources of her experience were useless here. The misery of the leather workers beggared description. One shuddered on stepping into their huts. There was nowhere to sit or stand: until she went there, Kamal had not known the ghastly form sheer filth could assume. She had no idea of how to protect herself in such surroundings and nurse the sick. She had accompanied Rajen with the proud boast of yielding to none in recklessness and fearing nothing in the world, not even death. She had not lied; but on arriving there, she realized that her powers were not limitless. Within a few days her blood seemed to be drying up in terror. And yet, when she returned home, Rajen reassured her that he had never seen such courage: ‘You’ve warded off the real blast of the storm. There’s no more need. Go home and rest for a few days. They can never repay what you’ve done for them.’
‘And what about you?’
Rajen said, ‘I’ll quit too after I’ve seen them go. Do you think I want to die?’
Kamal did not know what to say. She looked at him for a while, then retreated silently.
It was not that she had not been home at all during these days. She came once a day to cook and carry the food back with her. On the one hand she felt relieved at not having to return to that terrible place; on the other, an unuttered anguish possessed her completely. She had forgotten to ask about Rajen’s meals today. But however big this omission might be, it could not compare with the situation in which she had left him.
With the closure of the schools and colleges, Harendra’s brahmacharya ashram had also closed down. Satish had undertaken to escort the boy-brahmacharis to a safe place and take care of them. Harendra could not go himself because of Ashu Babu’s illness. He now turned up at Kamal’s house. Greeting her, he said, ‘I’ve been here every morning for the last five or six days, but I couldn’t find you. Where were you?’
When Kamal mentioned the leather workers’ quarter, Harendra was amazed. ‘I heard hordes of people were dying there. Who gave you this idea? Whoever it was, he is to blame.’
‘Why?’
‘Can you ask? Going there virtually amounts to suicide. We’d thought that after Shibnath Babu left Agra, you too had gone away somewhere else only for a few days, of course, otherwise you wouldn’t have kept on these rooms. Well, do you know anything about Rajen? Is he in town or has he gone away? He has sunk so utterly without trace that it’s impossible to find him.’
‘Do you need him urgently?’
‘No, not what people normally mean by “need”. Yet there is a need, because if I too stop asking after him he’ll be left with no one to do so except the police. I believe you know where he is.’
Kamal said, ‘I do know. But it’s no use telling you. It’s culpable curiosity to ask where somebody is after driving him out of your house.’
Harendra remained silent for a while. Then he said, ‘But it’s not my house, it’s our ashram. We couldn’t go on having him there, but I shan’t have any one else blaming me for it. Well, I’ll be off. I’ve tracked him down quite a few times before this. I’m sure I’ll do so this time too. You can’t hide him from me.’
Kamal smiled on hearing this and said, ‘If I could,
do you think it would put an end to my misery?’
Harendra smiled too, but there was an emptiness in his smile. He said, ‘There are many others in Agra besides me to answer this question. Do you know what they’d say? They’d say, “Kamal, human misery isn’t all of one kind, but many. They have various natures and various remedies.” So if you meet them, discuss the matter and decide it with them. He was silent for a while, then spoke again: ‘But you’re making a fundamental mistake. I’m not one of these people. I haven’t come to bother you unnecessarily, because I’m one of those who really respect you.’
Kamal looked at him and asked gently,’ On what grounds do you respect me? My ideas and attitudes don’t match yours in the slightest.’
Harendra promptly replied, ‘No, they don’t, but I still respect you greatly. And I repeatedly ask myself why.’
‘Have you found any answer?’
‘No, but I hope I will one day.’ After a short silence, he said, ‘I heard something about your past from you and something from Ajit Babu. By the way, perhaps you know that he’s staying at our ashram now.
Kamal nodded and said, ‘You told me so earlier.’
Harendra said, ‘The strange chapters of your life have been laid before us so simply and frankly that it’s hard to pass summary judgement on them. Your life seems to have been like a lawsuit in defence of every idea I have so long held to be wrong or vicious. I don’t know when and where we’ll find the judge, or what the verdict will be, but one can’t but respect somebody who stands up so fearlessly, without any need of a veil.’
Kamal said, ‘Is it so important to take a fearless stand? Haven’t you heard of those utterly shameless people who always walk down the middle of the road? You haven’t seen the English tea planter, but I have. Their shameless, fearless impudence not only flouts modesty, but seems to thrust it aside by the neck. Their audacity is boundless, but is it something to respect?’
Harendra had not expected such a rejoinder, at least not from this woman. Unable to find an immediate reply, he said, ‘That’s different.’
The Final Question Page 20
