Bipradas put his right leg over the raised left one, leaned back on the bolster, closed his eyes and was deep in thought for quite a while. At last he opened his eyes and said, ‘According to the clauses of the loan agreement Madhusudan cannot claim repayment from us without six months’ notice in advance. Meanwhile Subodh will be here by the month of Ashadh and we shall find a solution then.’
Kalu said with some irritation, ‘Sure you will find a solution. Instead of all the lights going out at the same time, they will be turned off at decent intervals.’
‘In any case the light is in its last throes, now it matters little as to which bearer comes in and how he blows it out. I am sick of looking after the end piece of that light. A complete darkness will give me greater relief.’
Kalu was hurt at this response from Bipradas. He understood that it was the reaction of a sick person. Normally Bipradas was not a person to give up so easily. Kalu knew he was planning a lot to avoid the final disaster and he also believed that he would get over it. It was hard for him to think that after today there was no room even for such a belief.
Kalu looked at Bipradas gently and said, ‘Brother, you don’t have to think any more. I shall do whatever is necessary. Let me go and meet the brokers.’
The next day Bipradas had a letter from Madhusudan written in English. The language was legalistic, probably drafted by his attorney. It demanded to know for certain if and when Kumu was coming back, and that appropriate action would be taken depending on the reply to his letter.
Bipradas asked Kumu if she had considered all sides carefully.
Kumu said, ‘I have given up thinking about it totally. And that is why today my mind is at rest. I have a feeling that for me, everything was just as it used to be; and whatever had happened in between was nothing but a dream.’
‘If they try to force you to go, will you be able to resist it?’
‘If they leave you out of it, I shall certainly be able to manage.’
‘I am asking you because, if you have to go back in the end, then the more you delay the nastier it will be. Have you developed any soft corner anywhere in your mind for your in-laws?’
‘Not in the least. I like only Nabin, Motir-ma and Habloo, but more like an outsider.’
‘You see, they are going to torture you. They have the power of money and the society to torture you. That is why we have to defy it. And to do that you have to stand up in public without shame, fear or hesitation. There will be a storm of criticism at home and outside, yet you have to keep your head in the midst of all that.’
‘Won’t it bring you harm and disquiet?’
‘What do you call harm and disquiet, Kumu? What could cause me greater harm than you leading a life of dishonour? And nothing could cause me more disquiet than the knowledge that the home where you lived had not become your own and the person who should have been closest to you was the farthest from you. Father loved you very much, but in those days the heads of families were distant entities, and the thought that you also needed some education, never crossed his mind. I have taught you and brought you up right from the beginning. I am no less than your parents. Today I realize the onus of that task. If you were like any other girl you would have had no problems. But today, any place where there is no recognition, no respect for your own distinct identity would be hell to you. Can I have the heart to banish you to such a place? Why not stay with me forever as any younger brother of mine might have?’
Kumu rested her head on the bed close to her brother’s chest, but turned her face away and said, ‘But won’t I be a burden on you? Tell me frankly.’
Bipradas stroked her head and said, ‘My dear sister, how can you be a burden? I will make you work your feet off! You will look after all my jobs. No private secretary could do all that. On top of it you will have to play music for me and my horse will be in your charge too. You know that I love to teach, and I could not hope for a better pupil than you. Let’s do something I always wanted to do—learn Persian. We will study together. You are bound to excel me, but I assure you I won’t be jealous!’
Kumu was enthralled listening to him. Nothing could be more pleasurable in life.
Bipradas said then, ‘Let me tell you something more, Kumu. The times will change and with it our mores too. We have to live like poor people and you will be the poor man’s treasure.’
Tears welled up in her eyes. She said, ‘If that happens, I shall be the luckiest girl in the world.’
Bipradas held Madhusudan’s letter in his hand. He did not reply to it.
56
WITHIN A COUPLE OF DAYS NABIN CAME WITH MOTIR-MA AND HABLOO. THE little boy climbed up on Kumu’s lap and hid his face in her breast and started crying. It was difficult to guess what the crying was for, was it a sulk for the past, a childish demand of the present or a concern for the future?
Kumu embraced him and said, ‘It is a cruel world, Gopal—there is no end to tears. What do I have that I can offer to wipe your tears? Can I try and stop the crying with mine? That’s about all I can do. The love that gives oneself and nothing more, is the kind of love you children have.Your Auntie will not be there forever, but remember her words and remember her—do remember.’ She kissed his cheeks.
Nabin said, ‘Bourani, we are off to our ancestral home in Rajabpur. This chapter is closed.’
Kumu said in distress, ‘I am the unlucky one who brought you this misery.
Nabin said, ‘On the contrary. We have been toying with the idea for quite a while. In fact, we were ready and packed to leave, when you appeared in our lives. We were so happy—but the gods did not let it be.’
It was clear that Madhusudan on his return the other night must have raised Cain.
Whatever Nabin might say, Motir-ma had no doubt that Kumu’s advent had turned their household topsy-turvy and she had no intention of pardoning her on that score. In her opinion Kumu should have gone back with her head hanging in shame and accepted whatever torment was in store for her. She asked Kumu somewhat harshly, ‘So you have decided never to set foot in your in-law’s house?’
Kumu was equally firm. ‘No, I shall not.’
Motir-ma asked, ‘Where will you be then?’
Kumu said, ‘There will be some space for me in this wide world. One loses much in life, but something is always left.’
Kumu understood that Motir-ma had mentally distanced herself from her a lot. She turned to Nabin and asked, ‘So what will you be doing now?’
‘We have some land by the riverside. That will be enough for our living, plus there will be plenty of pure air.’
Motir-ma said with some hauteur, ‘No, my dear, you don’t have to worry about that. No one can take away our rightful earnings from the Mirzapur household. We are not such honourable people that we shall walk out just because the big brother had chased us out. He will call us back sooner or later. We can hold out till then. Take it from me!’
Nabin was a bit disappointed and embarassed at her outburst. He said, ‘I am well aware of that, Mejobou, and I have no pride on that account. If there is rebirth as they say, then my only wish is to be born an honourable man, even it means starving.’
In fact Nabin had often made up his mind to leave his brother’s shelter and take up farming on his own in their village home. Motir-ma also fumed a lot, but when push came to shove, she could never bring herself to move. She had stopped her husband every time. To her way of thinking, she had full claim over her elder brother-in-law. He was almost like her father-in-law. He might do something wrong but that could never be taken as an insult. It appeared totally outlandish to her that Kumu should refuse to live with her husband, whatever his behaviour towards her might have been.
The doctor was announced. Kumu said, ‘Do wait till I find out what the doctor has to say.
The doctor said, ‘His pulse is no better. He is not sleeping enough at night. The patient needs more rest.’
Kumu was getting back to her visitors when Kalu met her and said, ‘I
must tell you something. The matter is getting very complicated. If you do not go back it will become worse. Frankly, I see no way out.’
Kumu stood silently. Kalu continued, ‘Summons have come from your husband. Do we have the strength to resist it? We are well within his grip.’
Kumu held on tightly to the railing and said, ‘I am at a loss to understand anything. I feel stifled. It seems there is no way out for me but death,’ and quickly ran inside.
Motir-ma was exchanging news with Aunt Kshema, whilst Kumu was with her brother. Comparing notes about her symptoms, both suspected that Kumu was pregnant. Motir-ma was happy and prayed to goddess Kali that this was true. Now she was trapped good and proper! The proud woman wanted to ignore her in-laws but now it was a knot in the cord of life, not a mere ritual marriage tie. There was no escape for her this time!
She took Kumu aside and told her about what she suspected. Kumu’s face was drained of all colour. She clenched her fists and said, ‘No, no, this cannot be, must not be!’
Motir-ma said testily, ‘Why not? You may belong to the highest in the land but the laws of life won’t be changed for your sake.You belong to the Ghoshal clan now and the family god of the Ghoshals won’t let you off easily. He is guarding your escape route.’
The fear of pregnancy brought clearly to Kumu’s mind the distorted image that was taking shape out of her brief encounter with her husband. The differences between one person and another that are insurmountable are often very tenuous in their elements. There may be nothing apparently clashing in language, bearing and small hints of behaviour, but they are spread over unspoken gestures, tone of voice, manners and ideals of living. There was something in Madhusudan that not only hurt her but deeply shamed her. He was desperately poor at the start of his life, so the opinions he expressed now and then, boastfully, about the supremacy of ‘money was the reflection of an inherent inferiority within himself. He had raised this topic of worshipping the god of wealth as a barb against her own family. His natural vulgarity, harshness of speech, arrogant incivility and his mental and physical personality as well as the intrinsic ugliness of his household had repelled her body and mind every day she spent there. The more she tried to overlook these and not to think about them, the more they heaped up around her like a gigantic garbage dump. Kumu had fought valiantly against this feeling of hatred within herself. She spared no effort on her part to keep up the tradition of husband-worship. She had not realized until now how pitifully she had lost her battle. Now she was linked by flesh and blood with Madhusudan; the horror of it began to torment her. She asked Motir-ma anxiously, ‘How can you know for certain?’
Motir-ma was incensed, but she controlled herself and said, ‘I am the mother of a child. Who will know better than me? The time has not come to be absolutely sure. You had better get yourself examined by a qualified midwife.’
It was time for Nabin, Motir-ma and Habloo to leave. But Kumu could not put her mind to anything but this grave unfair blow fate had dealt her. So her leave-taking from her friendly in-laws was perfunctory. Nabin said, ‘All good things must end sometime. I was so lucky to be of service to you. But I could hardly imagine it should end so abruptly.’ Nabin touched her feet. Habloo was crying silently. Motir-ma kept a stern exterior and did not utter a word.
57
THE NEWS REACHED BIPRADAS. THE MIDWIFE CAME AND PUT AN END TO ALL doubts about Kumu’s pregnancy. The news also reached Madhusudan’s ears. He had wanted wealth and amassed enough of it. He had wanted a title worthy of his status—he had got that too. And now the final goal of his wordly duties would be attained if he could perpetuate his own glory through family succession. The more he was pleased at the throught, the more he transferred the burden of all guilt from Kumu to her brother Bipradas.
He wrote him a second letter starting with ‘Whereas’ and ending with ‘Your obedient servant’ and appended his own signature in full—Madhusudan Ghoshal. In between there were clauses like, ‘I shall have the painful necessity’ etc. Usually these kind of threatening letters had the contrary effect on the Chatterjees. Bipradas showed the letter to Kalu who turned red in the face. ‘This kind of letter provokes even a cool fellow like me to get into the Badshahi mood, call the Kotwal—the chief of police—and order him to cut off the head of the writer and bring it to me instantly.’
Because he had a lot of paper-work to finish during the day, Bipradas could send for Kumu only in the evening. Kumu had not met her brother the whole day. She was avoiding him carefully.
Bipradas got up from his bed and sat on a chair. Lying down made his mind weak. He had also reserved a seat for Kumu in front of him. The lamp was kept shaded in a corner of the room. A large hanging fan was being pulled from outside with great gusto. The air was still hot, it was the end of Boishakh. Short spurts of breeze from the south offered scant respite. The leaves of the trees were still, as if listening—all ears. The darkness of the evening was somewhat like the blue of the sea at the mouth of the Ganga, toned down by the river as it ran into the ocean. In between, there were flickers of the last light of the lengthening eventide. The pond in the garden was usually in the shadows, but the reflection of a very bright star in it tonight was like a beckoning finger. The owls hooted as the servants passed to and from under the trees with lanterns in hand.
Kumu came into the room a little late, still hesitant. As soon as she sat down near Bipradas, she said, ‘Dada, I don’t like the look of things at all. I feel like going away somewhere.’
Bipradas said, ‘You are mistaken, Kumu. You are going to like it. In a little while you will be fulfilled in body and mind as well.’
‘But then . . .’ Kumu stopped halfway.
‘I know, but who can release you from your bondage now?’
‘Does it mean I have to go?’
‘I don’t have the right to tell you not to. I dare not rob your child of its rightful home.’
‘When do I have to go?’ she asked in a low voice.
‘Tomorrow. It brooks no delay.’
‘Dada, I am sure it is clear to you that they will never let me come to you again.’
‘Yes, I am well aware of it.’
‘Then let it be so. But I do not want you ever to call on them. I know I will die of longing to see, you but I do not wish to see you in that house ever. I just could not bear the thought.’
‘No, Kumu, you don’t have to worry on that score.’
‘But they will also try to create trouble for you?’
‘When they finish doing with me what they will, they will also lose all hold on me. I shall be free that very moment. Why do you call that trouble?’
‘Make me free too at the same time. By then I would have been able to deliver their child to them. There are things one cannot give up even for a child’s sake.’
‘Have your baby first and then we shall see how you feel.’
‘You may not believe me. But do you remember Mother? I believe, she chose her own time and place of death. The day she lost her rightful place in the family she could leave her children easily. When one desires freedom intensely, nothing can hold one back. I am your sister, I too want freedom. Take it from me, the day I renounce my ties, my mother will bless me.’
Both of them sat quietly again for some time. Suddenly there was a gust of wind, the leaves of the book on the teapoy started fluttering. The fragrance of bael flowers blew in from the garden to fill the room.
Kumu said, ‘Don’t think, Dada, that they wilfully caused me pain. I am built in such a way that they could not make me happy. I too cannot please them. There will always be a problem with those who cannot please them easily. Then why all this torment. I shall have to bear all the calumny from the society, they will go unscathed. But mark my words, Dada, one day I shall be rid of them and I shall be free to come back to you. There is no point in being the Borrobou of that family if I can’t be Kumu, my own self. I know, Dada, you don’t believe in God, but I do. Even more now, than I did three months ago. I ha
ve been thinking the whole of today—why with so much anomaly, such chaos everywhere, the world is still not overwhelmed by dirt? There lies beyond all this a space where the sun, moon and the universe are still turning—that is where paradise lies, that is where my god resides. I feel shy to talk to you like this, but there may never be another opportunity. I poured out my thoughts so that you may not be consumed with worry unnecessarily on my account. I have realized that there is a residue of your own even after you’ve lost all. And that is inexhaustible, that is my god. If I hadn’t realized this truth, then I’d have clung to you till my death and never entered that prison-house again.’
When she finished she lay her head on his feet. For a long time Bipradas looked out of the window, lost in endless brooding.
58
EARLY NEXT MORNING HE SENT FOR KUMU. SHE FOUND ONE ESRAJ STRETCHED on his lap and another lying on the bed. He said, ‘Pick up the instrument, let’s play together.’ It was still somewhat dark. After the whole night, the breeze had cooled down and was lightly blowing through the peepul leaves, and the crows had started cawing. The two of them started with a slow alaap in Raag Bhairon—sombre, quiet and plaintive. It recalled the mood of Mahadev in the morning after he had reconciled himself to the loss of Sati. As they played, the rays of the sun shone brighter through the flowering branches of gulmohar; the sun came up beyond the garden wall. Servants came, stood near the door and went away. They could not do the room. Sunlight filled the room, the orderly came and kept the newspaper on the side-table and left silently.
When they finished Bipradas said, ‘Kumu, you think I have no religion. I don’t talk about it because then there wouldn’t be an end to it. I see its form in music where deep sorrow and ecstasy mingle together. I am unable to give it a name. You are leaving today, perhaps for good. So this morning I thought I would see you off beyond the pale of all discord and disharmony. You have read Kalidas’s Shakuntala. Remember when Shakuntala was starting out to join her husband Dushyanta, the sage Kanva travelled some distance with her. Much sorrow and humiliation lay on the way to the destination he was leading her to. But she did not stop even there, but crossed over to eternal peace. This morning’s Raag Bhairon captures the same peace, and my heartfelt blessings may reach you towards your entire fulfilment—a fulfilment which may inundate your inner and outer being and flush all your sorrows away.’
Tagore Omnibus, Volume 1 Page 75