The Boat-wreck

by Rabindranath Tagore

  But even this little bit of pleasure and freedom were soon denied her. One night Nabinkali sent for Kamala. The servant came back to report, ‘I cannot find Baman-thakrun anywhere.’

  A worried Nabinkali said, ‘What! Has she run away, then?’

  Nabinkali went looking for Kamala with a lamp in every room, but Kamala was nowhere to be seen. Mukunda-babu was smoking, his eyes half-closed. Nabinkali told him, ‘Listen, I think Baman-thakrun has run away.’

  Not even this revelation could disturb Mukunda-babu’s peace. He only said languorously, ‘I told you not to hire her, we didn’t know her, after all. Has she stolen anything?’

  ‘I cannot see the shawl I gave her, but I have not yet checked on anything else,’ his wife said.

  ‘Let us inform the police,’ an unperturbed Mukunda-babu said grimly.

  One of the servants went looking for her on the road. Meanwhile, Kamala returned to her room to discover Nabinkali scouring through her belongings. She was busy checking whether anything had been stolen. Suddenly spotting Kamala, she said, ‘What have you done! Where did you go?’

  Kamala said, ‘I was walking in the garden.’

  Nabinkali let fly at Kamala. All the servants gathered at the door.

  Kamala had never wept at Nabinkali’s reprimands. Today, too, she stood as still as a statue.

  When the barrage of abuse had stopped, Kamala said, ‘You are unhappy with me, let me go.’

  ‘Most certainly we shall,’ said Nabinkali. ‘Do not imagine we will support an ingrate like you with food and clothing all your life. But you will go only after you learnt whom you have chosen to tangle with.’

  After this Kamala did not dare go out any more. Shutting herself in her room with the door barred, she would tell herself that surely God would find a solution for someone who had suffered so much.

  Mukunda-babu was out for a ride in a carriage with two of his servants. The front door was bolted. It was almost evening.

  Someone asked at the door, ‘Mukunda-babu, are you home?’

  Startled, Nabinkali said, ‘Oh, here’s Doctor Nalinaksha. Budhia, Budhia!’

  There was no response from the maid named Budhia. Nabinkali said, ‘Go open the door, Baman-thakrun. Tell the doctor that Karta is out for some fresh air, he will be back soon. The doctor should wait.’

  Kamala went downstairs with the lantern. Her legs trembled, her heart was hammering, her palms were cold. She was afraid that she was too impatient to get a good look at him. Unlocking the door, Kamala hid behind it, drawing the end of her sari over her head.

  ‘Is Karta home?’ asked Nalinaksha.

  ‘No, please take a seat,’ Kamala managed to force the words out.

  Nalinaksha sat down in the drawing room. Meanwhile, Budhia appeared to tell him, ‘Karta-babu is out, he will be back soon, please wait a little.’

  Kamala’s breath had gathered in her throat, she felt an ache in her breast. She sought out a spot in the darkness of the veranda from where she could see Nalinaksha clearly, but she was unable to stand still. She had to sit down to still her tumultuous heart. A cold wind joined hands with her heartbeat to make her tremble continuously.

  Nalinaksha seemed to be lost in thought next to the kerosene lamp. Her mind in complete disarray, Kamala gazed at him from the darkness, her eyes filling with tears. Wiping them away quickly, she fixed her eyes on him again, trying to draw him into the depths of her heart. The light from the lamp lit up his noble forehead – his face was imprinted on Kamala’s soul. She felt herself growing numb and becoming a part of the sky. Everything disappeared except the illuminated face, and she melted into it.

  Kamala remained rooted to the spot, though it was difficult to say whether she was conscious or oblivious. Suddenly she realized that Nalinaksha had risen to his feet and was talking to Mukanda-babu.

  Lest they come into the veranda and Kamala be discovered, she quickly went into the kitchen, which was on one side of the courtyard which led to the inner chambers.

  Delight in her heart, Kamala told herself, ‘How can a hapless woman like me have such a noble husband. As dignified, as pure, as beautiful as a god! All my suffering has proven worthwhile, my lord.’

  She thanked the Almighty repeatedly.

  Kamala heard footsteps going down the stairs. She went up to the door quickly, hiding herself in the darkness again. Budhia led Nalinaksha out with a lamp, and he followed her.

  Kamala thought, ‘I want to serve at your feet, but I am bound in slavery. You walked past me but you did not know.’

  When Mukunda-babu went to the inner chambers for his meal, Kamala stole into the drawing room. Kneeling to touch the floor before Nalinaksha’s chair with her forehead, she kissed it. Her heart was stricken, her emotions were thwarted, and she had not found an opportunity to serve Nalinaksha.

  The next day Kamala learnt that the doctor had advised Mukunda-babu to travel further west for a change of air. Preparations began for the journey.

  Kamala told Nabinkali, ‘But I cannot leave Kashi.’

  ‘We can go, but you can’t! Such consideration!’

  ‘I will stay here at any cost.’

  ‘We shall see how you stay here.’

  ‘Have mercy on me, don’t take me away.’

  ‘You are a dangerous woman, making excuses at the eleventh hour. How will we find a replacement at such short notice? Who will do all the work?’

  Kamala’s pleas fell on deaf ears. Locking herself in her room, she began to pray, weeping.

  53

  Annada-babu’s colic resurfaced on the night that he had discussed the possibility of Hemnalini marrying Nalinaksha.

  His night passed in pain. When the pain abated the next morning, he sat in the garden near the road under a freshly-risen winter sun. Hemnalini had served him his tea on a teapoy. His face was pallid and strained from the previous night’s agony, there were dark circles under his eyes and he seemed to have aged overnight.

  Hemnalini felt a knife stab her in the heart every time she saw Annada-babu’s stricken expression. Hemnalini was filled with remorse because her unwillingness to marry Nalinaksha had caused her aged father such pain and physical agony. She did not know what to do or how to console him.

  Suddenly Akshay appeared at the gate, with a middle-aged man in tow. As Hemnalini made to leave, Akshay said, ‘Please do not go, this is Chakraborty-moshai from Ghazipur, everyone knows him – he has something important to tell you.’

  Chakraborty and Akshay took their seats.

  Chakraborty said, ‘I’m told Ramesh-babu is close to your family, which is why I have come to enquire whether you have heard anything about his wife.’

  Annada-babu was silent with astonishment for a while. Then he said, ‘Ramesh-babu’s wife!’

  Hemnalini lowered her eyes. Chakraborty said, ‘Ma, I am sure you consider me a meddlesome busybody. If you are patient enough to listen to what I have to say, you will realize that I am not here to gossip. I met Ramesh-babu and his wife while travelling on a steamer. As you know, even a single glimpse of Kamala draws her to your heart. At my age, I have been hardened by numerous sorrows and considerable suffering, but she was a goddess whom I can never forget. Ramesh-babu was undecided about their destination, but Kamala developed such a fondness for this old man that she persuaded Ramesh-babu to put up at my house in Ghazipur. Kamala lived there, looked after by my younger daughter Shailaja with more love than for her own sister. But I still do not know why she went away, leaving us miserable. Shailaja’s tears have not stopped flowing.’

  Chakraborty’s own eyes began to stream with tears. Troubled, Annada-babu said, ‘What has happened to her, where has she gone?’

  Chakraborty said, ‘You know the entire story, Akshay-babu, you tell them. My heart breaks thinking of it.’

  Akshay recounted the whole story in detail. He added no footnotes of his own, but Ramesh did not emerge as a pleasant character in his narrative.

  Annada-babu kept saying, ‘We didn’t know
any of this. There has not been a single letter from Ramesh since he left Calcutta.’

  Akshay added, ‘In fact we did not even know that he had married Kamala. Let me ask you, Chakraborty-moshai, are you sure Kamala was his wife and not his sister or a relative?’

  Chakraborty said, ‘What do you mean, Akshay-babu! What else but his wife! How many people are fortunate enough to have such perfect wives?’

  Akshay said, ‘But strangely, perfect wives are the most neglected. God probably tests good people the most.’ He sighed.

  Running his fingers through his sparse hair, Annada-babu said, ‘It is undoubtedly a tragedy, but what’s done is done, grieving is of little use now.’

  Akshay said, ‘But I wonder whether it is possible that Kamala only left her home, not killed herself. That is why I came here to Kashi with Chakraborty-moshai to make enquiries. It is obvious you know nothing. Still, we shall make more enquiries.’

  ‘Where is Ramesh now?’ asked Annada-babu.

  Chakraborty said, ‘He left Ghazipur without informing us.’

  Akshay said, ‘I did not meet him, but I was told he is in Calcutta. Perhaps he will practise at the Alipur court. A man cannot mourn forever, especially when he is young. Come, Chakraborty-moshai, let us make some enquiries in town.’

  ‘You’re coming back here, aren’t you, Akshay?’ said Annada-babu.

  ‘I cannot say,’ Akshay answered. ‘I am very upset, Annada-babu. As long as I’m in Kashi I must keep looking for Kamala. Just imagine a girl from a decent family, if she has indeed left her home, she must be in deep trouble. Ramesh-babu can be oblivious to all this, but not I.’

  Akshay left with Chakraborty.

  Annada-babu glanced at Hemnalini anxiously. She had controlled herself all this while, knowing that her father was worrying about her.

  Hemnalini said, ‘You must get yourself examined by the doctor thoroughly today, Baba. You fall ill far too quickly, this needs to be remedied.’

  Annada-babu felt a great sense of relief. A weight lifted off his mind at the fact that Hemnalini seemed more anxious about his health than about the momentous revelation about Ramesh. At any other time, he would have dismissed all talk of his illness, but today he said, ‘Very well. I shall consult a doctor. Should I send for Nalinaksha?’

  Hemnalini was hesitant about Nalinaksha after all that had happened. It would be difficult to face him as easily as she did earlier in her father’s presence, but still she said, ‘Yes, let me send for him.’

  Gathering courage at Hemnalini’s unperturbed demeanour, Annada-babu said, ‘Hem, all these things that Ramesh has—’

  Interrupting him at once, Hemnalini said, ‘The sun is getting stronger, Baba – come into the house now.’ Without giving him the chance to protest, she led him indoors. Settling him into a deck chair and wrapping him up warmly, she handed him a newspaper, put his glasses on his nose, and said, ‘Read the papers, I’ll be back soon.’

  Annada-babu tried to follow her orders obediently, but he could not concentrate. He grew increasingly uneasy about his daughter. Eventually he put his newspaper away and went to look for her, discovering her door locked at this unusual hour of the morning.

  Annada-babu began to pace up and down in the veranda without a word. Much later, he went looking for Hemnalini again, only to find her door was still locked. An exhausted Annada-babu sat down on his chair and began to run his hand through his hair feverishly.

  Nalinaksha arrived to examine Annada-babu and explained what needed to be done. ‘Is Annada-babu harbouring some sort of anxiety?’ he asked Hem.

  ‘It’s possible,’ Hem answered.

  Nalinaksha said, ‘His mind needs complete rest. I am facing the same problem with my mother – she becomes so disturbed at the slightest provocation that it has become difficult to protect her health. She was awake all night over something quite insignificant. I try my best to ensure that nothing upsets her, but it’s impossible.’

  ‘You don’t look very well either,’ said Hemnalini.

  Nalinaksha said, ‘No, I am quite well. But I may not be looking very fresh today because I was up late last night.’

  ‘It would be best if there were a woman to look after your mother. You are alone, you have work of your own, how can you attend to her needs all by yourself?’

  Hemnalini said this quite naturally; nor was there any doubt that her reasoning was justified. But she was overcome by embarrassment as soon as she spoke, her face reddening. She was afraid that she might have offended Nalinaksha-babu. On his part, Nalinaksha remembered his mother’s proposal.

  Recovering quickly, Hemnalini said, ‘It would be a good idea to engage a maid for her.’

  Nalinaksha said, ‘I have tried many times but Ma refuses. She’s so meticulous with her rituals that she cannot trust a maid. Nor can she bear to be looked after by someone doing it for the money.’

  Hemnalini could not argue with this. After a pause, she said, ‘Sometimes I find it difficult to follow your advice. I fear that there is no hope. Will I never have peace? Must I always be battered by life?’

  Disturbed by Hemnalini’s plaintive appeal, Nalinaksha said, ‘Look, obstacles appear to make us stronger. You must not be despondent.’

  ‘Can you come again tomorrow morning?’ asked Hemnalini. ‘I feel a lot stronger with your help.’

  Nalinaksha’s manner and voice always brought peace to Hemnalini, making her feel protected. Even after he had left, his comforting touch remained in Hemnalini’s heart. Standing in the veranda adjoining her bedroom, she looked at the world outside, lit up by the winter sun. On this lovely afternoon, hard work seemed to coexist with repose, power with tranquillity, enterprise with detachment. She submitted her wounded heart to this vastness. The sunlight and the bright, wide, blue sky conveyed the blessings of creation to her soul.

  Hemnalini began to think of Nalinaksha’s mother. She understood Kshemankari’s anxiety which did not allow her to sleep. Her first withdrawal to the proposal of marriage with Nalinaksha had subsided. In fact, Hemnalini’s dependence on Nalinaksha kept growing, although it did not include the electrifying agony of love – but no matter. A self-made man, Nalinaksha did not appear to be waiting for a woman’s love. But everyone needed to be taken care of. Nalinaksha’s mother was old and infirm, who was to look after him? Nalinaksha did not deserve neglect – caring for such a man had to be an act of respect.

  The episode of Ramesh’s life that Hemnalini had learnt of this morning had forced her to gather all her resolve to protect her wounded heart. Things had come to a pass where it would be shameful to be pained by such behaviour. But she did not want to pronounce him guilty either. Thousands of people all over the world were engaged in acts both good and bad – Hemnalini had not taken the responsibility of judging them. She did not even wish to think of Ramesh. From time to time, when she recalled Kamala’s suicide, she asked herself tremulously, ‘Am I responsible for her suicide in any way?’ She felt a mixture of mortification, hatred and compassion in her heart. Joining her palms together, she said, ‘I have done nothing wrong, my lord, then why have I been implicated? Break this bond, sever it for good. I want nothing more, just let me live without guilt.’

  Annada-babu was eager to know Hemnalini’s thoughts on the subject, but he did not dare broach it directly. Hemnalini was embroidering silently in the veranda. He made occasional visits, retreating each time at the sight of Hemnalini lost in thought.

  In the evening, Hemnalini gave Annada-babu a glass of milk with digestives and sat down by his side. He said, ‘I don’t want the light in my eyes.’

  When the room was darker, Annada-babu said, ‘Our morning guest appeared to be a simple man.’

  Hemnalini did not respond. Annada-babu abandoned his preamble. He said, ‘I was astonished by the story about Ramesh. People had said many things, none of which I had believed, but now…’

  Hemnalini said desperately, ‘Let’s not talk about all this, Baba.’

  ‘I don’t wis
h to, Ma,’ said Annada-babu. ‘But the vagaries of fate link us to some people’s joys and sorrows – you cannot ignore their behaviour.’

  Hemnalini protested forcefully, ‘No, Baba, why should I allow the threads of my happiness to be entangled here? I am fine as I am, don’t embarrass me with your anxiety.’

  Annada-babu said, ‘I’m an old man now, Hem, how can I be at peace till I see you settling down? Can I leave you behind while you lead an ascetic’s life?’ Hemnalini was silent. ‘Look, Ma,’ said Annada-babu. ‘Just because your hopes have been shattered in this case you must not spurn other priceless opportunities. You’re too resentful today to understand how to make your life happy and fulfilling, but I think of your well-being all the time – I know what will bring you happiness, what will be good for you. Do not ignore my proposal.’

  Hemnalini’s eyes brimmed with tears. ‘Don’t say that, I don’t ignore anything you tell me. I will obey your order – I only want to prepare for it properly, cleansing my soul first.’

  Annada-babu touched Hemnalini’s tear-soaked cheeks, and then her head. He did not say anything more.

  Akshay appeared the next morning while Annada-babu was having a cup of tea with Hemnalini beneath a tree. Annada-babu looked at him questioningly. ‘No news yet,’ said Akshay, helping himself to a cup of tea.

  A little later he said, ‘Some of Ramesh-babu’s and Kamala’s effects are still with Chakraborty-moshai, he’s wondering where to send them. Ramesh-babu will surely track you down here and visit you, so if he could…’

  Flying into a rage, Annada-babu said, ‘You have no sense whatsoever, Akshay! Why should Ramesh visit us, and why should I keep his things?’

  Akshay said, ‘Whether it was wrong of Ramesh or merely a mistake, he must be repenting now. Is it not the duty of old friends to console him at this hour? Must he be forsaken entirely?’