The Tagore Omnibus, Volume One

  While working in the garden Aditya used to carry a small cloth bag fastened to his waist, to hold a few essential things. From that bag he now brought out a small broach made of five nagkeshor flowers, their petals flaring like serpents’ hoods. He said, ‘I know you love nagkeshor. Shall I fasten it on your sari, on your shoulder? I have the safety pin here.’

  Sarala made no objection. Aditya took a long time to fasten the broach. Sarala stood up then; Aditya stood facing her, holding her hands and gazing at her face as if he were gazing at the moon. He said, ‘You are wonderful, Sori, so wonderful!’

  Sarala snatched away her hands and fled. Aditya did not follow her, he just stared at her retreating figure silently, for as long as he could. Then he sat down on the platform on the embankment. The servant came to say dinner was served.

  Aditya replied, ‘I shall not eat tonight.’

  6

  FROM THE THRESHOLD OF THE ROOM ROMEN ASKED,‘BOUDI, DID YOU ASK for me?’

  Neerja cleared her throat and said, ‘Come.’

  The room was dark. Through the open window the light of the full moon streamed in, falling on Neerja’s face and on the laburnum poesy which Aditya had placed near the head of the bed. Everything else was in darkness. Leaning against the pillows, Neerja was half-sitting, half-supine, staring out of the window. There, beyond the orchid room could be seen the row of betel nut trees. A wind had arisen and the leaves swayed, the fragrance of mango buds wafted in as well. From afar came the sound of the tom-tom and singing from the coachmen’s dwellings where they were engrossed in celebrating Holi. On the floor lay some milk cake and coloured powder, a present from the security guard. The whole house was silent, so that the patient’s rest was not disturbed. But outside, from one tree to another two koels continued their exchanges, neither willing to let the other bird have the last call. Romen pulled up a stool near the bed. Neerja was silent for a while; she was trying to keep some control over her emotions, for she was afraid she would break down and start crying. Her lips trembled, her throat felt as if her pain was coiled in a knot there. She managed to reign in her feelings; two petals of the laburnum that had fallen were crushed in her grip. Then, without speaking, she handed Romen a letter. It was written by Aditya. It said:

  After all these years, today it became possible for you to question my integrity. I find it shameful to argue about this or to defend myself. In your present state of mind everything I say or do shall appear contrary to your sensibilities. That unreasonable torment will damage your health further every moment! It is better to keep my distance until you feel healthier. I know that you wish for me to send Sarala away. Maybe I shall have to do this. After some reflection, I realize there is no other way. Still, I would say this—my education and my progress owe a great deal to Sarala’s uncle’s charity; he had shown me the way to live life. The treasure of his affection, Sarala, is now destitute, helpless. If today we send her away it will be a sin. Even for your sake I cannot do this.

  After much thought I decided this: I will establish a new branch of our business, to make seeds of fruits and vegetables. In Maniktala we can get a house with grounds attached. I shall send Sarala to work there. I don’t have sufficient money in hand to begin this project. I will have to mortgage the garden house to raise the money. Don’t be angry at this proposal, this is my earnest request. Remember, Sarala’s uncle loaned me funds without any interest for the garden; I heard he had to borrow some of it himself. Not just that, the resources we needed to begin our project—seeds, grafted trees, rare new plants, orchids, lawn mowers and other equipment—he donated without payment. If he had not given me this opportunity, I would have been a mere clerk, renting a house for thirty rupees a month, and I would not have the good fortune to wed you either. After my last conversation with you, the question that recurs in my mind is, have I been a refuge for Sarala or has she provided me a shelter? I forgot this simple truth, you reminded me. Now you must keep it in mind too. Never think Sarala is our dependent. I can never repay their debt, and nor can she ever cease to have claims upon me. That you do not have to see her again is what I shall try for now. But I understand now more than ever that my ties with her can never be broken. I cannot say today all I wish to, my grief is beyond words. If you can realize what is implicit, you will know, or else for the first time my sorrow remains unexpressed to you.

  Romen read the letter twice and fell into silence. Neerja said in anxious tones, ‘Say something, Thakurpo!’

  But Romen declined to answer.

  Neerja fell upon the bed and hitting her head on the pillow repeatedly, said, ‘I was wrong, I was wrong. But don’t any of you see what made me insane!’

  ‘What are you doing, Boudi! Be calm, you’ll hurt yourself.’

  ‘This broken body has caused me this misfortune, why feel for it? I suspected him—where did that suspicion come from? I can only suspect myself, my own disability. Where is that Neeru now whom he would sometimes call the florist, sometimes the goddess of the forest! Who has wrested away her grove now! Did I have just one name!When he would be late and I would wait up for him and watch over his food, he would call me Annapurna, the goddess of plenty. At dusk we would sit by the pool, and I would arrange jasmine flowers and paan on a silver plate, he would chuckle and call me the Betel Bearer. Those days he consulted me in all domestic affairs; he would call me his Home Secretary. I was like the overflowing river reaching out to the sea, my tributaries spread in all directions; but in one fatal moment the water from all my streams evaporated at once, leaving behind only the stony river bed.’

  ‘Boudi, you will be well again, once more you will occupy your throne and you will rule in full power.’

  ‘Don’t give me false hope, Thakurpo! I’ve heard what the doctor says. That is why I cling on this household of so many happy days, with my miserable destitution.’

  ‘Why do you need to, Boudi? So long you have poured yourself out to your domestic world. Can there be anything nobler than that? You received as much as you gave, how many women have got so much? If what the doctor says is true, if it is time to go, then what you have received in abundance, donate it freely. You spent so many days here in such honour, why must you trivialize this honour now, if you have only a short time left with us? Act such that your last days in this house attain new glory.’

  ‘My heart breaks, Thakurpo, my heart breaks! I could have left all these years of happiness behind me and gone smiling if I felt that I would be missed fervently and loved even after death. But I can’t help thinking: will there be no void anywhere where a small lamp may burn, even dimly, for me and our separation? Thoughts of this make me resist even death. That woman Sarala will possess everything completely, is this what Fate ordains?’

  ‘I shall be honest, Boudi, but don’t be angry. I fail to understand what you’re saying. What you are unable to relish, can’t you give away to one whom you have already given so much? Will your love be stained with this blame forever? The lamp of respect that you carried in your household is being smashed to bits by yourself. You will escape that agony forever but it will hurt us for all time to come. I beg you, don’t let the generosity of your entire life dwindle to meanness in the last moment.’

  Neerja wept in spasms. Romen sat quietly, not attempting to console her; when the tears were finished Neerja sat up in bed and spoke, ‘I have one prayer, Thakurpo.’

  ‘Instruct me, Boudi.’

  ‘Listen to me. When the heart is swept away with tears, I gaze at Ramakrishna’s picture there. Yet, his words fail to reach my heart. My mind is ugly, petty. In whatever way you can, find me the guru. Or else I will not be able to break these ties. My mind is trapped in attachment to the world in which I spent such joyful days. After I die I will be spending age after age weeping in the ethereal plane if I don’t attain freedom from this attachment—save me from this, save me!’

  ‘You know, Boudi, I am what is called a heretical creature in the scriptures. I don’t believe in anything spiritual. Prabha
s Mittir persuaded me to visit his guru once. Before I could get attached to him, I fled. The jail has a fixed term; but there’s no end to a spiritual sentence.’

  ‘Thakurpo, your mind is strong, you can never understand my peril. I know that the more I struggle the more I am sinking bottomless waters, I cannot control myself.’

  ‘Boudi, listen to me. As long as you think somebody is set to capture your treasure, your heart will burn in agony.You won’t have peace. But sit still and say, “I give it. What is most precious I give it to him whom I love most.” Then the entire burden shall be lifted in a moment.Your heart will be filled with joy. You don’t need a guru; say now, “I give, give all, keeping nothing, I give up everything I own, I am ready to depart unencumbered and in purity, not leaving behind any sorrowful bondage in this worldly life.”’

  ‘Ah, go on Thakurpo, repeat those words to me again and again. So long whatever I have done for him has given me great joy, and now because I cannot give any more, it hurts so much. I will give, give, give—give everything I have—no more delay now. Bring him here.’

  ‘Not tonight, Boudi, take a few days to convince yourself. Strengthen your resolve.’

  ‘No, no, I can’t bear to hold back any more. From the time he said he would leave this house to stay in the Japanese room, this bed seems to be my funeral pyre. If he does not return now, this night will never end for me and I shall die of a broken heart. Call Sarala here too, I shall weed out this thorn from my heart; I shall not be afraid, that I can tell you for certain.’

  ‘It is not the right time yet, Boudi, leave it for now.’

  ‘I fear the passage of time. Call them now.’

  Looking at the picture of Paramhansadeb, she said, folding her hands, ‘Give me strength, give me strength, Lord, save this foolish, fallen woman. My grief has kept God from me, all acts of worship are ruined! Thakurpo, let me say something, don’t stop me.

  ‘What?’

  ‘Let me go to the prayer room just for ten minutes, I will be strong then, my fear will leave me.’

  ‘All right, go then, I shall not stop you.’

  ‘Ayah!’

  ‘What, Khokhi?’

  ‘Take me to the prayer room.’

  ‘What! The doctor. . .’

  ‘The doctor cannot keep death away from me; then, should he keep me away from the Lord?’

  ‘Ayah, take her. Don’t worry, it will only be for her good.’

  Holding on to the ayah, Neerja left the room. Soon after, Aditya came in. He asked, ‘What is this, where is Neeru?’

  ‘She has gone to the prayer room. She will be back soon.’

  ‘Prayer room! That’s not close by. The doctor has specifically forbidden her to exert herself too much.’

  ‘Don’t heed that, Dada.This will work better than the doctor’s medicine. She will be back after offering flowers and her salutations just once.’

  When he had written that letter to Neerja, Aditya was not fully aware that the script that Destiny had written on the canvas of his life would be touched by the heat outside and suddenly burn so bright. At first he had decided to send Sarala away, and had come to the garden to tell her this—that there was no other way, they would have to separate. But when it was time to say it, his tongue had uttered the exact opposite. Afterwards he sat in the moonlit night, on the embankment, and said repeatedly to himself—the truth of life had been discovered late but that did not mean it could be denied. He was not at fault, so he had nothing to be ashamed of. It would be wrong to hide the truth. He would not hide it—come what may. This Aditya realized with certainty, that if, from his life and his work, he removed Sarala, then loneliness and apathy would destroy him—his work too would stop forever.

  Now, as he waited for Neerja to return, he said to Romen, ‘Romen, you know about us, I know that.’

  ‘Yes, I do.’

  ‘Today I shall settle everything, lift the screen.’

  ‘You are not alone, Dada! You cannot just shrug the burden off your shoulders and be done with it. Boudi’s feelings also have to be considered. The ties of life are complex.’

  ‘I cannot let a lie stand between your Boudi and me. From childhood the relationship between Sarala and myself has carried no guilt, you understand that, don’t you?’

  ‘Certainly.’

  ‘This simple relationship contained great love. We did not realize it then; but was that our fault?’

  ‘Who says it was a fault?’

  ‘If I hide this fact it will be the crime of hypocrisy. Instead, I will declare it boldly.’

  ‘Why should you hide it, or even declare it loudly? What Boudidi has to know she has already discovered by herself. In a few days the knots of this dreadful sorrow will loosen themselves naturally. Don’t tug at them needlessly. Listen to what Boudi wants to say, you will know how to give the appropriate answers without any effort.’

  Seeing Neerja enter the room, Romen went out. Seeing Aditya, Neerja sank to the floor and laying her head at his feet, spoke in weeping tones, ‘Forgive me, forgive me, I have sinned. After this long don’t reject me, don’t cast me away.’

  Aditya helped her up with both hands and clasping her to his breast led her slowly to the bed and helped her lie down. ‘Neeru, don’t I understand your pain!’ he said.

  Neerja could not stem the flow of her tears. Aditya stroked her head gently. Neerja tugged at Aditya’s hand and clutching it to her breast, she asked, ‘Tell me honestly that you forgive me. If you aren’t pleased I will not be happy, even after death.’

  ‘You know, Neeru, at times there has been dissent between us, but has our mental harmony ever been shattered?’

  ‘Before this you have never left the house. Why did you go now? What made you so cruel?’

  ‘I was wrong, Neeru, you must condone this.’

  ‘What unreasonable things you say. From you I get all my punishments, all my rewards. In hurtful resentment I tried to judge you, that is why I am in this state. I told Thakurpo to call Sarala, why isn’t she here now?’

  The prospect of having Sarala in the room struck a discordant note in Aditya’s mind. He didn’t want to face up to the situation regarding her at least for some time. So he said, ‘It is late tonight, let it be for now.’

  But Neerja spoke up, ‘There, listen, I think they are waiting outside the door. Thakurpo, come in, both of you.’

  Romen came in with Sarala. Neerja stood up from the bed. Sarala bent down to touch Neerja’s feet. ‘Come, sister, come to me,’ said Neerja.

  She took Sarala by the hand and seated her on the bed. She took out a jewellery case from under her pillow and taking out a pearl necklace, she put it around Sarala’s neck. She said, ‘I once wished that when I am burnt at the pyre this necklace would be around my neck. But this is better. You wear this for me, right to the end. On special days I have worn this necklace so many times, your Dada knows. If you wear it around your neck he will remember those days.’

  ‘I am not worthy of this, Didi, why do you shame me!’

  Neerja had figured that in this all-sacrificing act of charity Sarala too would play her part and raise some objections. But that her heartache in announcing this sacrifice would manifest so clearly in the act was not known fully even to herself. Aditya, on the other hand, sensed how the whole scene hurt Sarala; he said, ‘Give me the necklace, Sarala! Its value to me is more than it can be to anybody else; I cannot give it to another person.’

  Neerja exclaimed, ‘My luck! After all this I still can’t make you understand! Sarala, I heard there was talk of making you leave the garden. I will never allow that. I will bind you to everything I own in this earthly life; my giving you the necklace symbolizes this. Here, I hand you the binding chain, so I can die in peace.’

  ‘You’re making a mistake, Didi, it is better not to chain me, no good will come of it.’

  ‘What kind of talk is this!’

  ‘I shall speak the truth. Until now you could trust me. But now don’t ever trust me, I te
ll you this in front of all of you here. What gifts Fate has cheated me of, I shall not acquire by cheating someone else. Here, I touch your feet and leave my salutations. I am going. The fault is not mine; it is His, the God to whom I prayed twice a day. This too ceases as of now.’

  Uttering these words, Sarala left the room in haste. Aditya could not contain himself, and followed her out.

  ‘Thakurpo, what is this that has happened, tell me, Thakurpo.’

  ‘This is why I told you not to call them tonight, Boudi.’

  ‘Why, I poured out my heart and donated all I have. Did he not realize this?’

  ‘He did, without doubt. But he also realized that your heart held something back. Something was out of tune.’

  ‘Nothing makes my heart pure! Even after so much grief! Who will make me pure? Oh , sanyasi, save me—please. Thakurpo, who is there for me, who will I go to?’

  ‘I am here for you, Boudi. I will take responsibility for you. Now sleep.’

  ‘How can I sleep! If he leaves the house again only death will have the power to put me to sleep.’

  ‘He cannot leave; he does not wish to, nor will he be able to. Here, take some sleeping tablets, I want to see you asleep before I go.’

  ‘Go, Thakurpo, you go, see where those two are and tell me. Or I shall go myself; let my body fall to bits if it will.’

  ‘All right, all right, I am going.’

  7

  WHEN SHE SAW ADITYA FOLLOWING HER, SARALA SAID, ‘WHY HAVE YOU come! it’s not right for you to leave Didi alone. Go back. I will not let you get entangled with me like this.’

  ‘Whether you will or not is hardly the point; my life is already entangled with yours. It may be good or it may be bad but I have no say in the matter.’

  ‘We will discuss this later; go back now, and tend to the patient.’

  ‘I want to open a new branch of the garden, I wanted to tell you . . .’

  ‘Not today, please. Let me think over things for a day or two; I have no energy for thought now.’