The Boat-wreck

by Rabindranath Tagore

  Bipin turned ashen. ‘What is it?’ he asked.

  Shailaja said, ‘Kamala went to the bungalow yesterday, she can’t be found now.’

  ‘Did she not come here last night?’

  ‘No. I had meant to send for her when Khuki fell ill, but whom could I have sent? Is Ramesh-babu here?’

  ‘When he didn’t see her at the bungalow he concluded Kamala was here. He has come here.’

  ‘Go with him at once and look for her. Uma is asleep – she is fine.’

  Bipin and Ramesh went back to the bungalow in the same carriage and began to question Bishan. After much effort, the information that emerged was that last evening Kamala had gone off towards the river all by herself. Bishan had proposed accompanying her, but she had refused, even giving him some money. He had been sitting on guard near the front gate. A toddy-seller had passed with frothing pitchers of freshly made palm-toddy – it was not very clear to Bishan what had transpired in the universe thereafter. Bishan showed them the path that Kamala had taken to the river.

  Ramesh, Bipin and Umesh followed the same path through the dew-soaked field of grains in search of Kamala. Umesh threw sharp, desperate glances all around, like a beast of prey in search of its quarry. The three of them paused when they arrived at the bank of the Ganga. There was an open expanse all around them, the sand stretching out beneath the morning sun. No one was to be seen anywhere. Umesh shouted at the top of his voice, ‘Ma, where are you, Ma?’ An echo returned from the high bank on the other side of the river, but no one answered.

  Suddenly Umesh spotted something white in the distance. Rushing up to it, he found a bunch of keys bundled into a handkerchief, lying at the edge of the water. ‘What have you found?’ asked Ramesh, coming up. It was Kamala’s set of keys.

  There was a layer of silt at the edge of the sand where the keys had been found. Small footprints were visible on it, going all the way to the water. Something was glittering in the shallows, catching Umesh’s eye at once. When he held it up, it turned out to be an enamelled gold brooch, a gift from Ramesh.

  With every sign pointing towards the river, Umesh could contain himself no longer. Screaming, ‘Ma, Ma!’ he jumped into the water. The water was not very deep; Umesh began to dive beneath the surface repeatedly, thrashing about and muddying the water.

  Ramesh stood still, stupefied.

  ‘What are you doing, Umesh?’ said Bipin. ‘Come on out.’

  Spitting water, Umesh kept saying, ‘I shan’t come out, I shan’t come out. You cannot leave me behind, Ma!’

  Bipin was frightened. But Umesh could swim like a fish, it was difficult for him to commit suicide in the water. After a great deal of panting and heaving he climbed out of the water in exhaustion and flung himself on the sand, weeping.

  Putting his hand on Ramesh’s shoulder quietly, Bipin said, ‘Let’s go, Ramesh-babu, it’s no use standing here. Let’s inform the police, let them search for her.’

  No one ate or slept that night at Shailaja’s house. Everyone was weeping. The fishermen went a long way into the river, casting their net. The police searched everywhere. At the station, they discovered that no one matching Kamala’s description had boarded a train that night.

  Chakraborty arrived the same evening. Having heard a detailed account of Kamala’s behaviour and all that had taken place, he was left in no doubt that she had committed suicide by drowning in the river.

  Lachhmania said, ‘That’s why Khuki began to cry last night and feel ill, she needs to be exorcised thoroughly.’

  Ramesh felt his heart drying up, it did not have even a cloud of tears. As he sat there, he said to himself, ‘This same Kamala had risen out of the Ganga once to come to me, and now, like a sacred flower, she has again been interred in the waters of the Ganga.’

  When the sun set, Ramesh returned to the river, gazing at the footprints left behind on the silt where the keys had been lying. Then, taking his shoes off, rolling his dhoti up, he waded into the river and, taking the necklace from its case, he flung it into the water in the distance.

  No one at Chakraborty’s house was in a state of mind to find out when Ramesh left Ghazipur.

  46

  Ramesh was left with nothing to do. He felt as though he would never work again in his lifetime, that he would never be able to settle down anywhere. It wasn’t as though he did not think of Hemnalini at all, but he pushed the thoughts away. He told himself, ‘This catastrophe has made me forever unfit for a worldly existence. How can a tree struck down by lightning expect to find a place in a happy forest?’

  Ramesh began to travel. He could not stay anywhere for very long. From a boat, he saw the splendour of Kashi’s riverside ghats, in Delhi he climbed to the top of the Qutub Minar, in Agra he viewed the Taj by moonlight. From the Gurudwara in Amritsar to the temple on Mount Abu in Rajputana – he offered his mind and body no rest whatsoever.

  Eventually, exhausted with travel, the young man’s heart cried out for home. But he was battered by his memories of a home where he had lived in peace, and by the house of happiness his imagination had conjured up for him. Finally, his grief-stricken perambulations ended suddenly one day; with a deep sigh, he bought a ticket to Calcutta and boarded the train.

  In Calcutta, Ramesh found himself unable to enter the familiar lane at Colootola. He did not know what he would see and hear there. He felt a deep anxiety, certain that a momentous change had taken place. One day he went as far as the head of the lane before turning back. The next evening Ramesh forced himself to appear at the house. He found all the doors and windows closed, and no sign of inhabitants. Still, assuming that Sukhan, the servant, was taking care of the empty house, Ramesh called out his name and banged on the door several times. No one responded. Chandramohan, a neighbour, was smoking outside his drawing room. He said, ‘Is that Ramesh-babu? I hope you are well. Annada-babu and his family aren’t here.’

  Ramesh asked, ‘Do you know where they are?’

  ‘I do not, all I know is that they are on holiday,’ came the answer.

  ‘Has everyone gone?’

  ‘Annada-babu and his daughter.’

  ‘Are you sure they were not accompanied by anyone else?’

  ‘Of course I am. I even met them as they were leaving.’

  Unable to restrain himself, Ramesh said, ‘I was told they were accompanied by someone named Nalin-babu, is that right?’

  Chandramohan said, ‘You were misinformed. Nalin-babu lived in your old house for some time. He left for Kashi three or four days before these people departed.’

  Ramesh extracted every detail about this Nalin-babu from Chandramohan. His name was Nalinaksha Chattopadhyay. It was said he had a medical practice at Rangpur earlier, but now he lived with his mother at Kashi. Ramesh was silent for some time. Then he asked, ‘Do you know where Jogen is?’

  Chandramohan told him that Jogendra had been appointed headmaster at a high school set up in Bishaipur by a zamindar from Mymensing.

  ‘We haven’t seen you for some time, Ramesh-babu,’ said Chandramohan. ‘Where were you?’

  Ramesh saw no reason to hide the truth. ‘I went to Ghazipur to practise law,’ he answered.

  ‘Is that where you will be staying?’

  ‘No, I will not be staying there, but I have not yet decided where to go.’

  Akshay appeared soon after Ramesh’s departure. Before leaving, Jogendra had entrusted him with the responsibility of looking after the house. Akshay never took his responsibilities lightly; he turned up from time to time without warning to check whether at least one of the two servants were home.

  Chandramohan told him, ‘Ramesh-babu left a short while ago.’

  ‘Really!’ Akshay was surprised. ‘What was he here for?’

  ‘I don’t know. He asked me for all the news about Annada-babu and his family. He has become so thin that it was difficult to recognize him. Had he not been calling out the servant’s name I would not have known who he was.’

  ‘Did you find
out where he lives now?’

  ‘He was in Ghazipur. But he has left, and could not say with certainty where he will settle next.’

  ‘I see,’ said Akshay, still puzzling over Ramesh’s sudden resurfacing.

  Returning home, Ramesh told himself, ‘What terrible jest is fate engaged in? I meet Kamala and Nalinaksha meets Hemnalini – this is like a novel, and that too, a badly written one. Such contradictory matchmaking is possible only for an uncaring writer like destiny – it conjures up events that the timid novelist dare not write in his imagined stories.’ But Ramesh concluded that now that he had been freed from his web of problems, perhaps fate would not write a tragic conclusion for him in the final chapter of this complex narrative.

  Jogendra had found a place to stay in a one-storeyed building near the zamindar’s residence at Bishaipur. He was reading the newspaper on a Sunday morning when a man from the market gave him a letter. He was surprised to see the handwriting on the envelope. It was Ramesh – he was waiting for Jogendra at a shop in Bishaipur, he had something urgent to discuss.

  Jogendra jumped off his stool. Although he had been forced to humiliate Ramesh once, here in this distant land, he could not turn away his childhood friend whom he had not met in a long time. In fact, he actually felt joy in his heart, along with curiosity in no small measure. Especially since Ramesh could do no harm as Hemnalini was not nearby.

  Jogendra accompanied the bearer of the letter. Ramesh was sitting silently on an empty can of kerosene at a grocery. The grocer had offered him a hookah, but hearing that the bespectacled gentleman did not smoke, he had classified him as some sort of strange creature from the city. Since then there had been no attempt at a conversation between them.

  Arriving in a rush, Jogendra drew Ramesh up by his arms, saying, ‘Really, you’re hopeless! You and your hesitation! You should have come straight home, but here you are, seated like a rock.’

  Ramesh smiled defensively. Jogendra chattered continuously on the way back. ‘Whatever anyone may say, none of us have been able to understand the Almighty. Did He make me grow up in the city and be a city man only to kill my soul here in the countryside?’

  Looking around, Ramesh said, ‘But it doesn’t seem to be a bad place.’

  ‘Meaning?’

  ‘Meaning, it’s quiet and secluded…’

  ‘That is why I’m dying to exclude someone like me from this place to make it a little more secluded.’

  ‘Say what you like, but for peace of mind…’

  ‘Don’t tell me all this. This abundance of peace of mind is choking me. I have spared no effort to destroy this peace, coming close to fisticuffs with the secretary. The zamindar has seen a sample of my temper and will no longer attempt to interfere with my work. He was keen on using me as a mouthpiece for the English newspaper, but I have explained to him with some forcefulness that my opinion is independent. That I am surviving is not on the strength of my qualifications – the Englishman posted here likes me very much, so the zamindar is afraid to get rid of me. The day I see in the gazette that the Englishman is being transferred, I’ll know that the sun of my headmastership will set in the sky of Bishaipur. I have only another acquaintance here – a street dog. The glances that everyone else throws at me can hardly be called benign.’

  Ramesh sat down when they arrived at Jogendra’s home. ‘No, you mustn’t sit down,’ said Jogendra. ‘I know you have a terrible superstition by the name of the morning bath, get it over and done with. I shall put the kettle on once more in the meantime. A second cup of tea awaits me under the pretext of hospitality.’

  The day passed in eating, conversation and rest. Jogendra did not give Ramesh the opportunity to say what he had come to tell him. After their meal in the evening, they drew up two armchairs and sat down in the veranda by the light of a lantern. A jackal was heard close by, while crickets began to chirp in the darkness.

  Ramesh said, ‘You know what I have come to tell you, Jogen. When you had first asked me the question, the time was not ripe for an answer. Nothing stands in the way of my answering it now.’

  Ramesh sat in silence for a while. Then, speaking slowly, he recounted all the events. At times his voice faltered and choked, sometimes he lapsed into silence for a minute or two. Jogendra listened without saying a word.

  When he was done, Jogendra said with a sigh, ‘Had you told me all this at the time, I would not have believed you.’

  ‘The reasons for believing me have not changed. That is why my request to you is to visit the village where I got married. I will also take you to Kamala’s maternal uncle’s home.’

  ‘I shall not take a single footstep. I shall sit here in this chair and believe every word you have told me. I have always believed everything you say; only once was there an exception, and I seek your forgiveness for that.’

  Getting out of his chair, Jogendra came up to Ramesh. As soon as Ramesh rose to his feet, they embraced.

  Clearing his throat, Ramesh said, ‘I had been trapped in such an impenetrable web of falsehood woven by fate that I could see no way out except to remain snared. Now that I have been freed, now that I have nothing to hide, I have found new life. I have still not understood what Kamala came to know or conclude that led her to take her own life, and there is no hope of finding out either. But had death not severed this difficult bond between our lives, the crisis that we might have been led into still makes my heart quake when I think of it. The problem emerged from the jaws of death, and it was in the depths of death that it vanished.’

  ‘Don’t assume that Kamala has indeed committed suicide. Still, this aspect has now been clarified – I am thinking of Nalinaksha.’ Then Jogendra added, ‘I don’t understand such people easily, and I do not like what I do not understand. But I meet all sorts of people, and some of them prefer what they do not understand. That is why I am fearful for Hem. When I saw that she has given up tea, that she doesn’t even eat meat or fish any more, that her eyes no longer brim over as before when I make fun of her, on the contrary, she smiles, I realized trouble was brewing. Anyway, with you by my side, rescuing her will not take much time, I know this too. Prepare yourself, therefore – the two of us will have to declare war against the saint.’

  Ramesh said with a smile, ‘I am ready, although I am not reputed for my valour.’

  ‘Wait till the Christmas holidays begin.’

  ‘That is some way away, why don’t I proceed on my own meanwhile?’

  ‘Impossible! It was I who broke up your marriage, I shall make amends for this myself. I shall not allow you to go on ahead and usurp this happy act. There are only ten days to go.’

  ‘Then meanwhile I shall—’

  ‘I shall have none of it. You are staying with me for the next ten days. I have driven away every one of the people here I could have arguments with, I need the presence of a friend now for a change of tone. I cannot let you go in these circumstances. All these evenings I have only listened to the howls of jackals, my state is so woeful that even your voice sounds like music to my ears now.’

  47

  Several thoughts occurred to Akshay after hearing about Ramesh from Chandramohan. He wondered what had happened. Ramesh had been practising law in Ghazipur, more or less in hiding. What had made him give up his practice there and make a courageous appearance again in Colootola Lane? Ramesh was bound to discover that Annada-babu and Hemnalini were at Kashi, whereupon he would undoubtedly turn up there. Akshay decided to visit Ghazipur, find out everything, and then pay Annada-babu and Hemnalini a visit in Kashi.

  One November afternoon, Akshay arrived in Ghazipur with his luggage. At the market, he enquired, ‘Where does the Bengali lawyer Ramesh-babu live?’ Posing this question to several people, he learnt that there was no well-known lawyer hereabouts who went by the name of Ramesh. He went to the court, which had just ended its sessions for the day. A Bengali lawyer in a cloak was about to step into his carriage when Akshay asked him, ‘A Bengali lawyer named Rameshchandra Chowdhury h
as arrived recently in Ghazipur, do you know where he lives?’

  From him Akshay learnt that Ramesh had been living in Chakraborty’s house all this while, but it was difficult to say whether he was still there or not. His wife could not be found, perhaps she had drowned.

  Akshay set off for Chakraborty’s house. Ramesh’s motive was now clear to him. With his wife dead, he would freely prove to Hemnalini that he had never been married. Hemnalini would not be inclined to disbelieve him. Those who go to extremes over ethics in public are in fact dangerous people in private – pondering over this conclusion, Akshay felt a sense of respect towards himself.

  Chakraborty could not control his grief when Akshay asked him about Ramesh and Kamala. Weeping, he said, ‘Since you are a close friend of Ramesh’s, you must consider Ma Kamala a member of your family; but I am telling you this, even though I only knew her for a very short time, I forgot the difference between her and my daughter. I had never imagined that my love for her would be cut short in this manner, that she would abandon me so cruelly.’

  Summoning a sorrowful expression to his face, Akshay said, ‘I simply cannot understand how something like this could have happened. I am sure Ramesh misbehaved with Kamala.’

  Chakraborty said, ‘Don’t be angry, but I have not yet understood this Ramesh of yours. He appears to be an excellent person, but it is impossible to discern his thoughts or his actions. How could he have neglected a wife like Kamala? She was so chaste and pure, my daughter and she had grown as close as sisters, but not once did she say anything against her husband. My daughter could make out that Kamala was suffering, but till the last day she never succeeded in getting Kamala to talk. You can imagine what sort of unbearable suffering would force a wife to such an act – the very thought breaks my heart. And it was in my fate to be in Allahabad at the time – Ma could never have left me otherwise.’

  The next morning, Akshay took Chakraborty for a walk to Ramesh’s bungalow and the riverbank. Returning, he said, ‘Look, I am not as certain as you that Kamala drowned herself in the Ganga.’