Gora

by Rabindranath Tagore

  In the joyless confines of prison, Gora had been unable to fight the memory of this countenance. The rapture of contemplating it brought a sense of the profoundest freedom into his jail cell. The harsh, physical bonds of prison would seem to him a shadowy illusion. From his pulsating heart emanated supranatural waves that penetrated all the prison walls unhindered, merging with the sky, swaying with the flowers and foliage, sporting in the world’s workspaces. Imagining there was no reason to fear this fanciful image, Gora had for this last month given full rein to it. He feared only substantial things.

  Seeing Poreshbabu as soon as he emerged from prison, Gora had felt overjoyed. His delight was not merely at the sight of Poreshbabu; Gora had not realized at first the extent to which his joy was infused with the magic of that imaginary figure who had lately become his companion. But gradually he understood. Travelling on the steamer he distinctly sensed that his attraction towards Poreshbabu was not on account of the latter’s own virtues alone. At last, Gora again braced himself. ‘I shall not admit defeat,’ he declared. On the steamer he resolved firmly that he would again go somewhere far away, and not allow his mind to be fettered by any bonds, however subtle.

  At this juncture he became involved in a debate with Binoy. When the two friends first met after their spell of separation, the argument would not normally have grown so intense. But now, concealed within this argument raged a debate with himself. Through this argument, Gora was clarifying his own premises even to himself. That was why he spoke so vehemently on this occasion, for it was he who particularly needed such vehemence. When this assertiveness aroused Binoy’s antagonism, when Binoy mentally countered Gora’s statements with his entire soul militating against the unjust fanaticism of Gora’s strictures, he had not dreamt that Gora’s onslaught might not have been so aggressive if it had not been directed against himself.

  After his debate with Binoy, Gora decided: ‘I cannot afford to quit the arena. If I abandon Binoy to save my own life, there will be no saving him!’

  ~54~

  At this moment, Gora’s mind was in a trance, regarding Sucharita not as an individual but an abstract idea. In the form of Sucharita the image of Indian womanhood manifested itself to him. It was to make the Indian home sweet and pure through virtue, beauty and love that this image had appeared. The goddess Lakshmi who nurtures the infants of India, tends to the sick, comforts the troubled, glorifies even the humble with her love, who has not abandoned or ignored even the poorest of us in times of trouble, who though herself venerable has devotedly worshipped even the unworthiest of us, whose lovely, skilful hands are dedicated to our service, and whose ever-sympathetic, merciful love we have received from the Almighty as an eternal gift—seeing her incarnate here before his very eyes, seated beside his mother, Gora was filled with profound joy. He began to think: ‘We had not glanced at this Lakshmi-figure, pushing her completely into the background! There can be no greater sign of our degradation.’ He now felt: ‘She signifies the land itself, ensconced upon a thousand-petalled lotus in the soul’s garden, at the heart of the entire nation Bharatvarsha. We are her servants. The country’s plight is her dishonour; it is because we are indifferent to her humiliation that our virility is put to shame.’

  Gora was privately astounded. Up until now he had not even realized how incomplete was his understanding of Bharatvarsha, as long as he had remained unaware of Indian womanhood. When the female sex had been an opaque mystery to him, he had felt something missing from his sense of patriotic duty. As if it had strength but no life, muscle but no nerves. In an instant Gora realized: ‘The more we have kept women away and belittled them, the more our own virility has dwindled and wasted away.’ Hence when Gora said to Sucharita, ‘Here you are, you have arrived!’ his words were not uttered merely as a customary polite greeting. They were loaded with a newfound joy and wonder.

  Gora’s body bore some marks of his prison days. He had become much thinner than before. Out of contempt and distaste for prison food, he had virtually fasted through this month-long period. His glowing, fair complexion had also grown somewhat dull. His extremely short-cropped hair made the haggardness of his countenance all the more apparent. It was this leanness that aroused pain and awe in Sucharita’s heart. She longed to touch Gora’s feet in obeisance. Gora appeared to her like a pure flame that burns so brightly, the wood and smoke become invisible. An intense devotion mingled with sympathy made her heart tremble inwardly. She could not utter a word.

  ‘I now realize what joy a daughter could have brought me, Gora!’ said Anandamoyi. ‘How can I tell you what solace Sucharita offered me, when you were away! I didn’t know their family before, but in times of trouble one discovers many great and good things in this world. I now recognize this glorious aspect of sorrow. We suffer only because we don’t always realize where, in how many places, the Almighty Ishwar has left provision for our solace. You are embarrassed, ma, but how can I help mentioning in your presence the joy you have brought me during my difficult days?’

  With profound gratitude, Gora glanced once at Sucharita’s embarrassed face. ‘Ma,’ he said to Anandamoyi, ‘she came to share your sorrows in your times of trouble, and is here again to enhance your joy in happier circumstances. Only those with largeness of heart are capable of such unwarranted sympathy.’

  ‘Didi, once a thief is caught he is chastised by all concerned,’ observed Binoy, noticing Sucharita’s awkwardness. ‘You are now suffering the result of being captured by all of them. Now there’s no escape! I’ve known you a long time, but I never gave anything away. I have kept very quiet, knowing in my heart that nothing remains hidden for long.’

  ‘You have kept quiet, indeed!’ smiled Anandamoyi. ‘As if you are the sort of boy to keep quiet! Ever since he met all of you, he has sung your praises continuously, but he can never say enough.’

  ‘Pay heed, didi!’ said Binoy. ‘Here’s direct proof that I appreciate the virtues of others and that I’m not ungrateful.’

  ‘That only indicates your own virtues,’ Sucharita retorted.

  ‘But you will learn nothing about my virtues from me,’ Binoy replied. ‘If that’s what you seek, please go to my mother and you will be dumbfounded. When I hear such praise from her lips, I am myself astonished. If Ma were to write my biography, I’d willingly die early.’

  ‘Just listen to this boy!’ said Anandamoyi.

  ‘Binoy,’ observed Gora, ‘your parents indeed gave you a fitting name.’

  ‘It was perhaps because they expected no other virtue of me that they claimed for me the quality of binoy or modesty, else I would have become a laughing-stock for everyone.’

  In this way, the constraint of their first encounter melted away.

  ‘Won’t you visit our part of the town sometime?’ Sucharita asked Binoy while taking her leave.

  She invited Binoy but could not bring herself to ask Gora. Unable to quite understand what this meant, Gora was secretly hurt. So far he had never felt the slightest pang at the fact that he could not match Binoy’s ability to easily make himself at home in everybody’s midst. But today he felt this missing quality as a lack.

  ~55~

  Binoy had realized that it was to discuss his marriage to Lalita that Sucharita had invited him. He may have dispensed with the proposal, but that did not mean the matter had ended there. As long as the issue remained alive, there could be no reprieve for either party.

  All these days, Binoy’s biggests worry had been, ‘How can I hurt Gora’s feelings?’ By Gora he meant not just the man himself, but his attitude, his faith and the life he had adopted. To always keep in step with this had been Binoy’s habit, his source of joy. Opposing it in any way seemed to him like rebelling against his own self. But his initial hesitation about striking that blow had vanished. Now that he had discussed the Lalita affair openly with Gora, Binoy felt heartened. Before his sore was lanced, there had been no e
nd to the patient’s fear and apprehension; but once the instruments were applied, he felt pain indeed but also relief, and found the procedure not as terrible as he had imagined.

  All this while, Binoy had been unable to argue with himself, but now the doors to internal debate were also opened. Now, in his mind, he exchanged words with Gora. Mentally summoning up all the arguments one might expect from Gora, he began to counter them from diverse angles. If the entire debate with Gora could have taken place verbally, it would have aroused excitement but also quenched it. But Binoy realized Gora would not carry this particular argument to its conclusion. This, too, angered Binoy. ‘Gora will neither understand nor explain, but only apply force. Force! I cannot submit to force.’ ‘Whatever happens, I am on the side of Truth,’ he declared. With these words, he clutched the word ‘Truth’ to his heart. It was necessary to set up a very strong opposition to Gora; hence Binoy repeatedly told himself that Truth itself was his final recourse. In fact, he developed tremendous self-respect at having made Truth his refuge. So when Binoy headed for Sucharita’s house that afternoon, he held his head high. Whether his strength came from his leanings towards Truth or whether his leanings lay elsewhere, he was in no state to determine.

  Harimohini was preparing to cook. There, at the kitchen door, Binoy made her sanction the Brahman’s claim to a midday meal, and proceeded upstairs. Fingers busy, eyes on a piece of embroidery, Sucharita raised the topic that was uppermost in their minds.

  ‘Look here, Binoybabu,’ she said, ‘must external antagonisms matter where there is no internal obstacle?’

  In his debate with Gora, Binoy had opposed him. But in his discussion with Sucharita, he again took the opposite side. Who could tell, now, that there was any difference of opinion between Gora and him!

  ‘Didi,’ he argued, ‘all of you are not minimizing the external obstacles either.’

  ‘There’s a reason for that Binoybabu! The obstacles we face are not exactly external. Our Samaj is based on our spiritual faith after all. But in your community, the restrictions are merely social. Hence it would not be as great a loss to you to renounce your community as it would be for Lalita to withdraw from the Brahmo Samaj.’

  Binoy began to argue that religion is a personal pursuit, not to be associated with any community. At this juncture Satish entered, carrying a letter and an English newspaper. Seeing Binoy, he became very excited, eager to somehow convert Friday into Sunday. In no time, Binoy and Satish were deep in conversation. Meanwhile, Sucharita began to read Lalita’s letter and the accompanying paper. This Brahmo paper carried the news that there was no longer any fear of a match between an eminent Brahmo family and the Hindu community, because the prospective Hindu groom had declined the proposal. In this connection, the pathetic weakness of the Brahmo family was decried, in contrast to the steadfastness of the aforementioned Hindu boy.

  Sucharita privately resolved that Binoy and Lalita must be married, by whatever means. But that could not be accomplished by arguing with this young man. She sent a note to Lalita, inviting her home and mentioning that Binoy was present there. As no almanac offered any provision for turning Friday into Sunday by some planetary conjunction, Satish had to go and get ready for school. Sucharita also went away, saying she needed time to bathe.

  Alone in Sucharita’s secluded chamber, once the heat of the argument had evaporated, the young man in Binoy was aroused. It was about nine or nine-thirty in the morning. There was no hubbub in the street. A clock was ticking on Sucharita’s writing desk. The room exuded an influence that began to overwhelm Binoy. The small decorative items all around him seemed to set up a conversation with him. The neatness of the tabletop, the embroidered cover on the chair, the deerskin rug at the foot of the chair, the few pictures hanging on the wall, the small bookshelf at the back, with its books covered in red fabric—all this struck a profound chord in Binoy’s mind. There seemed to be some beautiful mystery tucked away inside this chamber, as if all the intimate confidences shared here between sakhis on lonely afternoons still lingered in the room, scattered here and there. Binoy began to visualize the place and posture of the female companions during their conversations. The words spoken by Poreshbabu the other day—‘I have learnt from Sucharita that Lalita is not averse to you’—appeared to his mind’s eye in a myriad different ways, with a picture-like clarity. An unutterable anguish haunted his heart like a sad, melancholy melody. Because he lacked the capacity to express in any way the things that inhabit the recesses of one’s heart in such secret, profound forms, like wordless hints—in other words, because Binoy was not a poet or painter—his whole inner being grew restless. He began to feel as if there was something that might bring him relief if only he could accomplish it, yet there seemed no way of doing so. The screen that hung before him, very close at hand yet keeping him at a slight distance—did Binoy not have the strength to arise and forcefully rip it apart, this very minute?

  Harimohini looked in to ask if Binoy wanted a snack.

  ‘No,’ he replied.

  Now Harimohini entered the room and sat down. While at Poreshbabu’s, she had felt strongly drawn towards Binoy. But ever since she had set up house independently with Sucharita, these visits had become extremely distasteful to her. She had decided these companions were to blame for the fact that Sucharita did not completely follow Harimohini in observing orthodox restrictions nowadays. Though she knew Binoy was not a Brahmo, she clearly sensed that he inwardly lacked any firm convictions about Hindu tradition. So she no longer wasted the deity’s prasad by enthusiastically inviting this Brahman’s son to taste the consecrated food, as before.

  ‘Tell me, baba, you are a Brahman’s son after all, so don’t you perform the sandhya prayer ritual, or offer any archana?’ she asked Binoy conversationally that day.

  ‘Mashi,’ he answered, ‘I’m so busy memorizing my lessons all day, I’ve forgotten gayatri, sandhya, everything.’

  ‘Poreshbabu is also an educated man,’ Harimohini protested. ‘But he still performs some rituals, morning and evening, according to his faith.’

  ‘Mashi, what he does cannot be accomplished by memorizing mantras alone. If I can ever become like him, I too shall follow his path.’

  ‘Meanwhile,’ said Harimohini rather sharply, ‘why not follow the path of your forefathers? Is it a good idea to be neither here nor there? A person must have a religious identity after all. Neither Rama nor Ganga—O ma, what sort of conduct is this!’

  At this moment Lalita entered the room. She started when she saw Binoy.

  ‘Where is Didi?’ she asked Harimohini.

  ‘Radharani has gone for a bath,’ Harimohini replied.

  ‘Didi had sent for me,’ said Lalita, by way of a needless explanation.

  ‘Why don’t you wait, she will join us very soon,’ suggested Harimohini.

  Harimohini was not favourably disposed towards Lalita either. She now wanted to bring Sucharita completely under her control, freeing her of all her former ties. Poreshbabu’s other daughters did not visit here very frequently. Only Lalita would drop by at odd hours to chat with Sucharita, which Harimohini did not like. She often tried to disrupt their conversation, calling Sucharita away on some errand or other, or expressing regret that Sucharita’s studies were no longer progressing unhindered as before. Yet when Sucharita applied herself to her studies, Harimohini would also not refrain from pointing out that excessive learning was unnecessary and harmful for women. Truth be told, because she could not succeed in bringing Sucharita as completely under her power as she wished, she would sometimes blame Sucharita’s companions and sometimes her education.

  Not that it pleased Harimohini to linger there with Lalita and Binoy; but there she remained all the same, because she was angry with both of them. She had sensed a mysterious relationship between Binoy and Lalita. Hence she told herself: ‘Whatever the customs of your community, I shall not permit s
uch shameless intermingling, such outrageous Khristani ways, in this house of mine!’

  Meanwhile, Lalita’s heart also bristled with rebellion. The previous day, she too had resolved to accompany Sucharita to Anandamoyi’s house, but she could not force herself to go. Lalita respected Gora immensely, but her hostility towards him was also very intense. She could never dismiss the fact that Gora was opposed to her in every respect. Indeed, from the day Gora came out of prison, her attitude towards Binoy had also undergone a change. Even a few days earlier, she had arrogantly assumed that she had strong claims upon Binoy. But the very thought that Binoy could never overcome Gora’s influence made her brace herself for battle with him.

  As soon as he saw Lalita enter the room, Binoy’s heart was flung into a turmoil. Try as he might, he could not maintain a natural demeanour towards her. Ever since rumours had spread within their social circle about the likelihood of their getting married, Binoy’s heart would tremble at the very sight of Lalita, like a magnet within an electrical field. Seeing Binoy in the room, Lalita was incensed with Sucharita, assuming that Sucharita had been trying her best to persuade the reluctant Binoy and that it was to iron out this problem that she had been summoned here today.

  ‘Please tell Didi I can’t wait for her now,’ she declared, addressing Harimohini. ‘I’ll come another time.’ With these words, without so much as glancing at Binoy, she rushed from the room. Now that it was pointless for Harimohini to remain with Binoy any longer, she too departed to attend to her housework.