The Boat-wreck

by Rabindranath Tagore

  Jogendra said, ‘I shall not annoy her at all, I shall spare no effort in accomplishing this as gently and quietly as I can. Do you think I cannot live without strife?’

  Jogendra was an impatient sort. That same evening, as soon as Hemnalini emerged after doing her hair, he called out to her. ‘Hem, I have something to discuss with you.’

  Hem’s heart quaked at this. She followed him reluctantly into the drawing room. ‘Have you noticed how unwell Baba is, Hem?’

  An expression of anxiety flitted across Hemnalini’s face, but she did not speak.

  Jogendra continued, ‘Let me tell you that unless we address this, he will fall severely ill.’

  Hemnalini realized that she was being blamed for her father’s ill-health. Lowering her eyes, she tugged miserably at the end of her sari.

  Jogendra said, ‘Whatever happened has happened, the more we beat our breasts over it, the more shameful it is for us. If you want Baba to feel better as soon as possible, we must kill this unhappy business at the root.’

  He looked at Hemnalini for a response.

  Hem said penitently, ‘There is not the slightest possibility that I will disturb his peace with all this.’

  ‘I know you won’t, but that will not stop other people from talking.’

  ‘What can I do, tell me,’ said Hem.

  ‘There is only one way to silence all the wagging tongues.’

  Sensing what Jogendra was proposing, Hemnalini intervened, ‘How about taking Baba for a holiday for now? All the talk will have died down in three or four months.’

  ‘That will not solve the problem,’ said Jogendra. ‘Until Baba is convinced that you have no regrets in your heart any more, a thorn will be lodged in his – it will not allow him to recover.’

  Hemnalini’s tears began to flow at once. Wiping them away quickly, she said, ‘What do you suggest I do?’

  ‘I know this will sound harsh,’ said Jogendra, ‘but if you want the best for everyone, you must get married without any further delay.’

  Hemnalini sat in silence. Unable to rein in his impatience, Jogendra said, ‘You people like to use your imagination to make things seem bigger than they are, Hem. Many women experience the same kind of problem – but they also sort things out. How can people live if everything is turned into a novel? I shall spend all my life on the roof as a monk, gazing at the sky. I shall establish the memory of the rotten liar in the shrine of my heart and worship it. You may not be ashamed to air all this poetry in front of the world, but we die of shame. Marry someone from a decent family and put an end to this drama as soon as possible.’

  Hemnalini was only too familiar with the mortification of turning into a dramatic heroine in the eyes of society. Jogendra’s taunt pierced her like a dagger. She said, ‘Have I said I will turn into a monk and not marry?’

  Jogendra said, ‘If that is not what you want to say, get married. Of course, if you tell me that you will approve of no one barring the king of the gods, you have no choice but to accept the vow of a monk. How many things in life are after our heart? We must mould our hearts to what we get. I believe this is the greatness of human beings.’

  An injured Hemnalini said, ‘Why are you mocking me this way, Dada? Have I said anything about my choice?’

  ‘You may not have said anything, but I have observed that you do not hesitate to express your clear loathing for some well-meaning friends. You have to admit that of all the people you have met, only one has kept you constant in his heart through all joys and sorrows, happiness and anger. I respect him immensely for this. If you wish to have a husband who can give you a life of happiness, you don’t have to go looking for him. But if you want drama…’

  Hemnalini rose to her feet. ‘Do not be so cruel. I will obey Baba, I will marry whoever he wants me to marry. Do not talk to me about drama.’

  Softening at once, Jogendra said, ‘Don’t be angry, Hem. You know I have no control over my words when I am upset – I say whatever comes to my mind. I’ve known you since childhood – I know very well that you are naturally reserved, and how much you love Baba.’

  Jogendra went off to Annada-babu’s room. He had been waiting anxiously.

  ‘Hem has agreed to get married, Baba,’ Jogendra told him. ‘You probably think I forced her but that is not the case at all. All you have to do now is to ask and she will not object to marrying Akshay.’

  ‘I have to ask her?’ said Annada-babu.

  ‘Do you expect her to come to you on her own and say, “I shall marry Akshay”? Very well, if you’re hesitant to say it yourself, allow me to convey your instructions to her.’

  ‘No, I’ll tell her myself,’ protested Annada-babu. ‘But what’s the hurry? I think we should let some more time pass.’

  ‘No, Baba,’ said Jogendra. ‘Delaying might lead to more trouble – we mustn’t let things linger.’

  No one in the family could stand up to Jogendra’s will. He did not relent till he got his way. Annada-babu was afraid of him. To keep the matter in abeyance for now, he said, ‘All right, I will tell her.’

  ‘This is the best time to tell her, Baba,’ said Jogendra. ‘She is waiting for your opinion. Resolve it one way or another at once.’

  ‘Stay here, Jogen, I shall talk to her alone,’ said Annada-babu.

  ‘Very well, I’ll wait here,’ Jogen said.

  Entering the drawing room, Annada-babu found it dark. Someone jumped up from a couch, and the next moment a tearful voice said, ‘The light has gone out, Baba – let me tell the servant to light the lamp.’

  Annada-babu perceived the reason for the light going out. He said, ‘Never mind, what do we need light for?’ He groped his way towards Hemnalini.

  ‘You’re not looking after yourself, Baba,’ said Hem.

  ‘There’s a reason for that, Ma,’ said Annada-babu. ‘I don’t look after myself because I am quite well. It is you who needs to pay attention to your health.’

  A disappointed Hemnalini said, ‘All of you keep saying the same thing, this is most unfair, Baba. I am living a normal life – when did you see me neglecting myself? If you think there is something specific I should do, why don’t you tell me what it is? Have I ever refused you, Baba?’ Her voice turned tearful.

  Troubled by her response, Annada-babu said, ‘Never, Ma. I never even have to tell you, you always know what lies in my heart – you have always followed my wishes. If my deepest blessings are not to fail, God will give you eternal happiness.’

  ‘Are you not going to keep me by your side, Baba?’ asked Hem.

  Annada-babu said gently, ‘Why ever not?’

  ‘I can at least stay till Dada’s wife arrives. Who will look after you if I’m not here?’

  ‘Look after me? Don’t do that, Ma. I am not so important – all of you do not have to pay attention to my well-being.’

  Hem said, ‘It’s very dark, Baba, let me get a light.’ She fetched a lantern from the next room. ‘I haven’t been able to read you the newspaper in the confusion of these past few evenings. I’ll do it today.’

  Rising to his feet, Annada-babu said, ‘Just a minute, Ma, I’ll be back.’ He went to Jogendra with the intention of telling him that he had not brought the subject up today, but that he would do it another day. But as soon as Jogendra said, ‘Well, Baba, did you talk of the marriage?’ he quickly answered, ‘Yes, we did.’ He was worried lest Jogendra began to torment Hemnalini himself.

  Jogendra said, ‘She must have agreed.’

  ‘Yes, you could say so.’

  ‘Then shall I go and tell Akshay?’ asked Jogendra.

  ‘No, don’t say anything to Akshay just yet,’ said Annada-babu quickly. ‘Everything will go wrong if you try to hurry things up, Jogen. There’s no need to tell anyone now, let us go on our holiday first. We can finalize things afterwards.’

  Jogendra left without answering. Draping a shawl around his shoulders, he went directly to Akshay’s house. Akshay was learning book-keeping from an English textbook.
Flinging his books and notebooks away, Jogendra said, ‘Later. It’s time to finalize your wedding date.’

  ‘Really?’ said Akshay.

  39

  When Hemnalini emerged from her room the next morning, she found Annada-babu sitting quietly on a canvas deckchair that he had drawn up to the window. The room did not have much furniture. There was a bed, a cupboard in a corner, a framed photograph of Annada-babu’s wife – now faded to a shadow – on one wall, and, on the opposite wall, a piece of silk embroidery made by her. The few objets d’art that used to adorn the cupboard when his wife was alive were still in the same place.

  Standing behind her father, Hemnalini ran her soft fingers through her father’s hair on the pretext of plucking out a few grey strands, and said, ‘Let’s have a cup of tea quickly, Baba. Then I’ll listen to stories of the old days from you in your room – I can’t tell you how much I love listening to them.’

  Annada-babu had become so sensitive to Hemnalini these days that it took him a moment to understand her reason for hurrying him. Akshay would appear at their table soon; it was to avoid his company that Hem was trying to finish their cup of tea quickly and take refuge in the privacy of his room. It pained him to think that his daughter was constantly fearful, as a doe is of the hunter.

  Downstairs, he discovered that the kettle had not yet been put on. He flew into a temper, while the servant tried to explain in vain that it was well before the usual hour for their cup of tea. Annada-babu announced his conviction that the servants had all turned into lazy creatures and that other servants would have to be appointed to awaken them.

  The servant brought the hot water quickly. Instead of lingering over his cup of tea to the accompaniment of conversation, as he was wont to do, Annada-babu busied himself in emptying his cup as quickly as possible. ‘Are you in a hurry to go somewhere, Baba?’ asked Hemnalini in surprise.

  ‘Not at all,’ said Annada-babu. ‘Drinking your tea quickly on a cold day warms the body.’

  But before his body could warm up, Jogendra entered along with Akshay, who was dressed with particular care today. He held a silver-headed cane, while a watch and chain were visible on his breast. In his right hand was a book covered in brown paper. Instead of taking his usual place at the table, Akshay drew up a chair not very far from Hemnalini. Smiling, he said, ‘Your clock is running fast today.’

  Hemnalini neither glanced at him nor responded. Annada-babu said, ‘Come upstairs, Hem. My warm clothes need to be put out in the sun.’

  Jogendra said, ‘The sun isn’t running away, Baba, what’s the hurry? Pour Akshay a cup of tea first, Hem. I need one too, but guests first.’

  Smiling, Akshay said, ‘Have you seen such sacrifice in the line of duty? A second Sir Philip Sydney.’

  Without paying the slightest attention to him, Hemnalini poured two cups of tea, handing one to Jogendra and pushing the other in Akshay’s direction before turning to Annada-babu. He said, ‘It will get uncomfortably hot later, let us get going at once.’

  Jogendra said, ‘Why not keep it for another day? Akshay is here…’

  Suddenly inspired, Annada-babu said, ‘You insist all the time. All you want to do is to impose your own will on the heart-rending pain of other people. I have borne all this in silence for a long time but this cannot go on. Hem, you and I will have our tea upstairs in my room from tomorrow.’

  As he was about to leave with his daughter, Hem said quietly, ‘A few more minutes, Baba. You haven’t enjoyed your tea today. May I ask what the mystery wrapped in brown paper is, Akshay-babu?’

  ‘Not just ask, you may even unravel this mystery,’ said Akshay.

  He extended the packet towards Hemnalini.

  Unwrapping it, Hem discovered a volume of Tennyson bound in Moroccan leather. She started, her face turning pale. She had previously received an identical Tennyson, bound the same way, and the volume was still preserved in secret, loving care in a drawer in her bedroom.

  With a smile Jogendra said, ‘The mystery has not yet been revealed in its entirety.’

  Opening the book to its first, empty page, he gave it to Hem. On it was inscribed: ‘To Srimati Hemnalini, a gift of Akshay’s eternal regard’.

  The book fell at once from Hem’s hands to the floor. Without a glance at it, she said, ‘Come, Baba.’

  They left the room. Jogendra’s eyes began to blaze. ‘No, I cannot live here any longer,’ he said. ‘I will find myself a schoolmaster’s job somewhere and go away.’

  ‘Your anger is misplaced, Jogen,’ said Akshay. ‘I was doubtful at the outset about your interpretation. I was swayed only by your repeated assurances. But I assure you that Hemnalini will never be favourably disposed towards me. Give up that hope. But it is your duty to ensure that she should forget Ramesh.’

  ‘It’s all very well for you to say it is my duty, but how?’ said Jogendra.

  Akshay said, ‘Am I the only eligible young man in the universe? I can see that had you been my sister, my forefathers would not have had to wait in desperation for my bachelorhood to be obliterated. A suitable boy must be got hold of somehow, someone who does not intensify the desire to put warm clothes out in the sun.’

  ‘Grooms cannot be ordered for.’

  ‘Why do you give up so easily? I can tell you where to find a groom, but haste will ruin everything. You cannot broach the topic of marriage at once, for that will terrify both parties. Let the acquaintance grow into a friendship, after which you can settle on a date.’

  ‘Excellent process, but who is this man?’

  ‘You do not know him very well, but you have seen him. It’s Nalinaksha, the doctor.’

  ‘Nalinaksha!’

  ‘Why the surprise? So what if there’s a furore over him amongst Brahmos? That doesn’t mean you should let a groom like him slip through your fingers.’

  ‘It’s not as though grooms slip through my fingers just because I unclench my hand. But is Nalinaksha amenable to marriage?’

  ‘I cannot claim he is amenable at present, but there is nothing that time cannot achieve. Listen to me, Jogen. Nalinaksha will be delivering a speech tomorrow. Take Hemnalini to listen to him. His oratory is powerful. It is no mean skill when it comes to attracting a woman. The poor things do not realize that a husband who listens is far preferable to a husband who speaks.’

  ‘But what is Nalinaksha’s history, let’s hear it.’

  ‘Look, Jogen, if you find flaws in his history, don’t worry too much about them. A flaw or two brings what is rare within reach, I, for one, consider this a boon.’

  What Akshay told Jogendra about Nalinaksha was, in brief:

  Nalinaksha’s father Rajballabh had been a minor zamindar in Faridpur. He was indoctrinated in the Brahmo faith at the age of about thirty. But his wife refused to accept her husband’s conversion and kept her own rituals and practices distinct from his. Needless to say, this was not a pleasant experience for Rajballabh. His son Nalinaksha was well established in the Brahmo society at a suitable age on the strength of his fervour at spreading the word about the faith and his powerful oratory. As Nalinaksha travelled across Bengal as a government doctor, his fame for purity of character, medical prowess and enthusiasm for all manner of activity spread far and wide.

  Meanwhile, the unthinkable happened. In his old age, Rajballabh suddenly went into a frenzy in his desire to marry a widow. No one could dissuade him. Rajballabh said, ‘My present wife is not truly faithful since she does not share my faith. It would be a crime not to accept as my wife the one with whom I have found a match in faith, outlook and practices.’ Amidst general condemnation, Rajballabh married the widow under Hindu rites.

  When Nalinaksha’s mother prepared to leave her home and go to Kashi, he abandoned his medical practice at Rangpur and told her, ‘I shall go to Kashi with you, Ma.’

  Weeping, his mother said, ‘You people do not agree with me on anything, my dear, why do you want to suffer without reason?’

  ‘I will have no disagreem
ents with you,’ said Nalinaksha.

  Determined to ensure happiness for his mother, humiliated and forsaken by her husband as she was, Nalinaksha travelled with her to Kashi. His mother said, ‘Am I not to get a daughter-in-law?’

  A beleaguered Nalinaksha said, ‘There’s no need, Ma, I’m happy enough.’

  Nalinaksha’s mother realized that despite his sacrifices, her son was not willing to marry outside the Brahmo community. Pained, she said, ‘You cannot possibly remain a monk all your life on my account. You may marry whomsoever your taste dictates, I shall never object.’

  After thinking it over for a day or two, Nalinaksha said, ‘I shall bring you a daughter-in-law after your heart, she will be your handmaiden. I will never bring home someone capable of disagreement with you or causing you any hurt.’

  Nalinaksha left for Bengal to seek a bride. There was a gap in the history after this. Some said he had secretly married an orphaned girl in a village, and that his wife died soon after the wedding. Others expressed doubts over this. Akshay believed that he had backed away from the wedding at the last moment.

  Be that as it may, Akshay felt that, far from objecting, Nalinaksha’s mother would be happy with whoever he chose to marry. Where would Nalinaksha find a bride like Hemnalini? No matter what, Hem’s disposition was so pleasing that there could be no doubt that she would accord sufficient respect to her mother-in-law and not hurt her in any way. Once Nalinaksha had spent some time in Hemnalini’s company, he would realize as much. Therefore, it was Akshay’s advice that arrangements be made for them to meet.

  40

  Jogendra went upstairs as soon as Akshay left. There he found Annada-babu and Hemnalini in conversation with each other in the sitting room. Annada-babu looked embarrassed when he saw Jogendra. He regretted of having lost his natural equanimity this morning and given vent to anger. So he said with great cordiality, ‘Come, Jogendra, sit with us.’