Gora

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Gora Page 47

by Rabindranath Tagore


  Sucharita read the letter to him. It was addressed to him by a Brahmo Samaj committee, bearing the signatures of several Brahmos. In sum, the letter declared that since Poresh had consented to non-Brahmo rites at his daughter’s marriage and was prepared to participate in the ceremonies himself, the Brahmo Samaj in such circumstances could by no means count him among the civilized. If he had anything to say in his own defence, the committee must receive a letter to that effect before the coming Sunday. That day the matter would be discussed and resolved according to the views of the majority. Poresh took the letter and put it in his pocket. Gently clasping his right hand, Sucharita silently walked beside him. Gradually, dusk descended and the darkness deepened. In the alley to the south of the garden, a light came on.

  ‘Baba, it is time for your prayers,’ said Sucharita softly. ‘I want to pray with you this evening.’ So saying, Sucharita led him by the hand to the secluded prayer chamber. There, the mat had been spread and a candle lit, as usual. That evening, Poresh meditated silently for a long time. Ultimately after uttering a small prayer, he arose and came away.

  As soon as he emerged he saw Lalita and Binoy waiting quietly outside the door. Seeing him, the two of them bent to touch his feet in a pranam. Placing his hands on their heads, he blessed them in his mind.

  ‘Ma,’ he said to Sucharita, ‘I shall visit your house tomorrow. Let me complete my work tonight.’ With these words he went into his room.

  Tears were streaming from Sucharita’s eyes. Motionless as a statue, she stood silently in the darkness of the verandah. For a long time, Lalita and Binoy also did not utter a word. When Sucharita prepared to leave, Binoy came before her.

  ‘Didi, will you not bless us?’ he asked in a low voice.

  He and Lalita bowed together at Sucharita’s feet. What Sucharita said in a tear-choked voice was audible only to the One who resides in our hearts.

  Back in his room, Poreshbabu wrote a letter to the Brahmo Samaj committee:

  I must take charge of Lalita’s wedding. If you abandon me for that reason, it will not be unjust of you. At this moment I only pray to Ishwar that he remove me from all social shelter and grant me a place at his own feet.

  ~66~

  Sucharita became desperate to tell Gora what Poresh had said to her. Had Gora not realized that the very Bharatvarsha for whose sake he had expanded his outlook and drawn his heart to a powerful love, was now affected by Time and on the path to decline! Because Bharatvarsha had survived on the strength of its internal organization all these years, its people had not needed to be vigilant. But was there any time left now for such a complacent existence? Could we afford to stay indoors, clinging to old systems as before?

  ‘I too have a duty to perform here,’ Sucharita began to think. ‘What might it be?’ At this point, Gora should have come before her to offer instructions and show her the way. Sucharita said to herself: ‘If he could have rescued me from all my constraints and ignorance, and positioned me in my proper place, would the significance of that not have overridden all petty questions of social propriety and malicious gossip?’ She was infused with a sense of her own superiority. She asked herself why Gora had not put her to the test, why he did not ask her to accomplish the impossible. Was there a single man in Gora’s group, capable like Sucharita of effortlessly surrendering all they possessed? Did Gora see no need for such voluntary self-sacrifice and such strength? Would it not harm the nation at all if this urge was rendered ineffective by the shackles of propriety? Refusing to acknowledge such indifference, Sucharita dismissed it from her thoughts. ‘He could never possibly reject me in this fashion. He must come to me, seek me out, giving up all constraints and hesitations. However powerful a man he is, he needs me: he told me so himself, once. How could he forget that now simply due to some meaningless speculations!’

  ‘Didi!’ cried Satish, rushing up to stand close to Sucharita’s lap. ‘So, bhai bakhtiar!’ she responded, hugging him.

  ‘Lalitadidi’s wedding is on Monday. I stay with Binoybabu for the next few days. He has sent for me.’

  ‘Have you told Mashi?’

  ‘I told her. She got angry and said: “I don’t know about that, speak to your didi, she’ll decide what’s best.” Didi, please don’t forbid me. My studies will not suffer at all there, I’ll study every day. Binoybabu will guide me.’

  ‘You will cause disturbance in a house where everyone will be busy,’ Sucharita told him.

  ‘No Didi, I shan’t disturb anything,’ Satish promised anxiously.

  ‘Will you take your little puppy along, then?’

  ‘Yes, I must take him. Binoybabu has specially asked me to. There was a separate invitation for him printed on red paper. It says he must attend and savour the refreshments, along with his family.’

  ‘And who might his family be?’

  ‘Why, Binoybabu says it’s me,’ Satish hastened to assure her. ‘He has also asked us to bring along that organ, Didi. Please let me have it. I won’t break it.’

  ‘But I would be relieved if it were to break. So now it’s quite clear—it is to play the organ at his wedding that your friend has invited you? Does he intend to avoid the professional musicians of the rowshan-chowki altogether?’

  ‘No, never!’ cried Satish, greatly agitated. ‘Binoybabu says he will make me his mitbar, the groom’s young double. What is the mitbar’s role, Didi?’

  ‘He must fast all day,’ Sucharita informed him. Satish was utterly incredulous. Now Sucharita drew him firmly to her lap and asked: ‘Tell me bhai bakhtiar, what will you become when you grow up?’

  Satish was mentally prepared with his answer. It was his class teacher who stood for his ideal of indomitable power and extraordinary learning. He had already decided to become a mastermoshai, a schoolteacher, when he grew up.

  ‘There’s a lot to be done, bhai!’ Sucharita told him. ‘Brother and sister, we two must perform our duties together. What do you say Satish? We must give our lives to enlarge our nation’s stature. Indeed, what is there to enlarge! Is there anything as great as our nation! It is our spirit we must enlarge. Do you know that? Do you understand?’

  Satish was not one to readily acknowledge that he had not understood.

  ‘Yes,’ he affirmed emphatically.

  ‘You know how immense is our country, our population,’ Sucharita declared. ‘How would I explain it to you? What an extraordinary nation this is! How many thousands of years the Maker of our destiny has spent, preparing to place this nation on the world’s pinnacle; how many people from diverse lands have come here to join in the preparations, how many great men have been born here, how many great wars fought, how many great utterances pronounced, how many great tasks accomplished, how diversely religion has been viewed in this country and how many varied solutions have been found here for life’s problems! Such is this Bharatvarsha of ours. Know its greatness bhai, don’t ever disdain it even by mistake. What I tell you now you must one day understand. Not that I imagine you have understood nothing of it even today. Bear this in mind—you have been born into a very vast country; you must revere this immense nation with all your heart, and lay down your life in its service.’

  ‘Didi, what will you do?’ asked Satish after a short silence.

  ‘I shall do the same,’ Sucharita assured him. ‘You’ll help me, won’t you?’

  ‘Yes I shall,’ declared Satish, immediately swelling with pride.

  There was no one at home to whom Sucharita could confide the thoughts that swelled in her heart. Hence all her emotions overflowed when she found this younger brother close at hand. What she said, and the words in which she said it, were not meant for a young boy’s ears, but that did not deter her. She had sensed that only if she gave a complete account of the insight she had gained in her present excitable state, would everyone, young or old, somehow interpret it according to their own levels of comprehension. But if she held things back, trying to explain them in other people’s terms, the truth would inevitably be
come distorted.

  Satish’s imagination was aroused. ‘When I grow up, when I have a lot of money …’ he began.

  ‘No, no, no!’ objected Sucharita. ‘Don’t talk of money. We two have no need for money, bakhtiar. For our undertaking we need devotion, the commitment of the heart.’

  At this moment Anandamoyi entered the room. The blood raced in Sucharita’s heart. She bent to touch Anandamoyi’s feet. Pranams did not come easy to Satish. Awkwardly, he somehow performed the gesture. Drawing Satish to her lap, Anandamoyi kissed the top of his head and said to Sucharita:

  ‘I came for a bit of consultation with you, ma. I don’t see anyone else after all. Binoy was saying, “The wedding will take place at my own house.” “That cannot happen under any circumstances,” I objected. “As if you are a great nawab, that a daughter of ours should come to your own home for the wedding ceremony!” That can’t be allowed. I have located a place, not far from yours. I have just come from there. Please speak to Poreshbabu and convince him.’

  ‘Baba will agree.’

  ‘And then ma, you too must go there. The wedding is on this very Monday. In these few days we must stay there and make all the arrangements. Indeed, we don’t have much time. I can handle everything alone, but if you are not involved Binoy will feel very hurt. He can’t bring himself to request you directly, in fact he did not mention you even to me, but from that itself I can sense that for him it is a very sensitive issue. You can’t afford to remain detached any longer, ma. Lalita too would be deeply hurt.’

  ‘Ma, can you participate in this wedding?’ asked Sucharita, rather surprised.

  ‘How can you say that, Sucharita! Participate! Am I an outsider, to merely participate! This is Binoy’s wedding after all! It is I who must handle the whole affair. But I have told Binoy, “As far as this wedding is concerned, I’m no relation of yours. I represent the bride’s party.” He is coming to my house to marry Lalita.’

  Anandamoyi’s heart was heavy with the sorrow of knowing that despite having a mother, Lalita had been abandoned by her at this auspicious moment. For that very reason, she was trying single-mindedly to ensure that the wedding ceremony did not smack of neglect or disrespect. Taking her mother’s place, she would personally adorn Lalita for the ceremony, organize the ceremonial reception of the bridegroom, ensure that there was not the slightest lapse in hospitality if a few invitees should turn up. And she would decorate this new dwelling in such a way that Lalita would regard it as a home. Such was her resolve.

  ‘Will this not create problems for you?’ Sucharita asked her. ‘Indeed it might, but so what?’ responded Anandamoyi, recalling the upheaval Mahim had caused at home. ‘There are always some problems, but if we bear them quietly, in time they too disappear.’

  Sucharita knew Gora had not participated in the wedding preparations. She was curious to know whether he had made any attempt to dissuade Anandamoyi from participating. But she could not broach the matter directly, and Anandamoyi did not even mention Gora’s name.

  Harimohini had heard of the developments. Having completed the chores at hand in a leisurely way, she entered the room and asked:

  ‘Didi, I hope you are doing well? We don’t see you, nor do you enquire after us.’

  ‘I have come to fetch your bonjhi,’ responded Anandamoyi, without answering her complaint. She then proceeded to explain her purpose. Displeased, Harimohini remained silent for a while. Then she said:

  ‘I can’t attend, in the middle of all this.’

  ‘No bon, my sister, I don’t ask you to attend,’ Anandamoyi assured her. ‘Don’t worry about Sucharita. I shall be with her, after all.’

  ‘Let me tell you, then,’ declared Harimohini. ‘Radharani has been telling people she is a Hindu. Now she feels inclined towards Hinduism. So if she wants to follow the Hindu ways, she must be careful. As it is it will cause a lot of gossip, but I can counter that. But from now on, she should mind her ways for a while. The first thing people ask is why she isn’t married, at such an advanced age. That can somehow be suppressed. Not that one couldn’t find a good match for her, if one tried. But if she again takes to her recent ways, how many fronts can I manage, tell me? Daughter of a Hindu family, you understand everything; so how can you say such things either? If you had a daughter of your own, could you have sent her to attend this marriage? You would be compelled to worry about getting your daughter married!’

  Anandamoyi glanced in amazement at Sucharita, whose face flamed blood-red.

  ‘I don’t want to exert any force,’ she explained. ‘If Sucharita objects, I …’

  ‘I can’t fathom what you have in mind, the two of you!’ protested Harimohini. ‘It is your son who has accepted her according to Hindu tradition, so how can you appear so surprised?’

  Where was the Harimohini who in Poreshbabu’s house was always afraid of making a mistake, clinging avidly to anyone who showed the slightest signs of being favourably inclined! Now she was poised like a tigress to defend her rights, always on edge, suspicious that adverse forces were at work everywhere, to wrest her very own Sucharita from her possession. Unable to surmise who was her friend, and who her enemy, her mind could not remain at ease. Her spirit could not find equilibrium even in worshipping the deity in whom she had previously sought refuge in desperation, finding the whole world hollow. She was extremely worldly, once; when extreme grief made her indifferent to material things, she could never have imagined that she might some day regain the slightest attachment to money, property or family relationships. But now, as soon as her heart had recovered somewhat from its wounds, the world was again present before her, tugging at her emotions. Once again, all her hopes and desires had reared their heads, fed by her long-time hunger. So strong was the urge to resume what she had renounced, she had not experienced such restlessness even when she had formerly belonged to the everyday world. Anandamoyi was astonished at the unimaginable transformation that had taken place in just a few days, its signs evident in Harimohini’s facial expressions, body language and social conversation. Anandamoyi began to feel very sorry for Sucharita in her tender heart. Had she sensed such imminent danger, she would never have come to call Sucharita. Now she found it a problem to protect Sucharita from pain.

  When Harimohini made pointed remarks about Gora, Sucharita hung her head and silently walked out of the room.

  ‘Have no fear, bon!’ Anandamoyi assured her. ‘I was not aware of this. Well, I shall not trouble her with any more requests. Please don’t say anything to her either. She has previously been brought up in a certain way. If you suddenly pressurize her too much, she cannot endure it!’

  ‘As if I don’t realize that, considering my advanced age!’ retorted Harimohini. ‘Let her declare in your presence then, if I have ever caused her any pain. She does whatever she pleases, I never say a word. I pray the Lord should protect her, that is all I ask. Such is my misfortune, I can’t sleep for fear of what may happen someday.’

  When Anandamoyi was on her way out, Sucharita emerged from her room and touched her feet.

  ‘I shall come ma, and bring you all the news,’ promised Anandamoyi, patting her tenderly. ‘Nothing will hinder you. With Ishwar’s blessings, the auspicious event will materialize.’

  Sucharita did not say a word.

  Early next morning, when Anandamoyi, along with Lachhmia, had unleashed a torrential flood to wash away the long-accumulated dust in their building, Sucharita arrived on the scene. Quickly dropping her broom, Anandamoyi drew her to her bosom. Now there was a great to-do, washing and mopping, moving things about and decorating the place. Poreshbabu had given Sucharita a suitable amount of money for their expenses. With that capital in hand, the two of them made countless lists, and then proceeded to amend them.

  Not long after, Poresh himself arrived there with Lalita. Her own home had now become intolerable for Lalita. Nobody dared say anything to her, yet their silence had begun to assault her at every step. Ultimately when Borodasundari’s friends be
gan to visit their home in groups, to express their sympathy with her, Poresh judged it better to take Lalita away from this household. When it was time to depart, Lalita went to offer her pranams to Borodasundari. But the latter kept her face averted and started weeping after Lalita had left. Labanya and Leela were quite curious about Lalita’s wedding; if they could somehow gain permission, they would not have wasted a moment in rushing to the wedding celebrations. But when Lalita took her leave, they maintained an extremely grave exterior, bearing in mind the harsh requirements of the Brahmo community. At the door, Lalita came face to face with Sudhir for a split second. But as some elderly members of their community were just behind him, she could not speak to him. Mounting her carriage, Lalita spotted a paper-wrapped package tucked into a corner of her seat. Opening it she found a German silver flower vase. Inscribed on it in English were the words: ‘May Ishwar bless the happy couple.’ Accompanying it was a card bearing only Sudhir’s initials. Hardening her heart, Lalita had determined not to shed any tears that day. But as she clasped this sole token of love from their childhood friend at the moment of departure from her paternal home, tears streamed from her eyes. Poreshbabu sat motionless, his eyes closed.

  ‘Come, come, ma, come,’ Anandamoyi welcomed her, taking both Lalita’s hands and drawing her inside, as if she had been expecting her just then.

  Poreshababu sent for Sucharita. ‘Lalita has left our house for good,’ he told her in a trembling voice.

  ‘She will not lack for care and affection here, Baba,’ Sucharita assured him, clasping his hand.

  When Poresh was about to leave, Anandamoyi appeared before him, head covered, and greeted him with a namaskar. Flustered, Poresh returned her greeting.

  ‘Please have no worries about Lalita,’ said Anandamoyi. ‘She will never suffer any pain at the hands of the one to whose care you have surrendered her. And after all this time, the Almighty has filled a gap in my life. I had no daughter, but now I have acquired one. For a long time, I had been waiting in the hope that Binoy’s bride would compensate for my lack of a daughter. Well, just as Ishwar has granted my wish at last, He has also brought me unimaginable good fortune in gifting me such a daughter and in such a wonderful way.’

 

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