‘Ma, I shan’t be shy with you at all,’ said Lalita, raising her head to look at Anandamoyi. ‘I tell you I don’t believe in all these things. I have thought things over very thoroughly. Whatever a person’s religion, faith or community might be, it can never be possible that people can only come together by erasing all those things. In that case, there can be no friendship between Hindus and Christians either. Then we might as well raise high walls and keep each community confined within its own separate fence.’
‘Ah, your words make me very happy!’ beamed Anandamoyi. ‘That’s exactly what I say. One person’s appearance, talents and nature may not match another’s but that doesn’t prevent a union between two persons; so why should a difference of opinion stand between them? Ma, you have brought me great relief, for I was very worried about Binoy. I know he has surrendered his whole heart to you people; he could never bear it if his relationship with all of you were affected in any way. The Lord alone knows how it pained me to oppose him. But how fortunate he is! It is no trifling matter that you should so easily dispel such a grave threat to him! Let me ask you a question: have you discussed this matter with Poreshbabu at all?’
‘No I haven’t,’ confessed Lalita, suppressing her embarrassment. ‘But I know he will understand everything.’
‘If he wasn’t capable of that, from where would you have imbibed such intelligence and strength of mind? Ma, let me send for Binoy; you should come to a direct understanding with him. Let me take this opportunity to tell you something ma: I have seen Binoy since he was ever so small. He is the kind of boy about whom I can say emphatically if you all suffer any pain on his account, he will make that suffering entirely worthwhile. How often I have wondered, who is there so fortunate as to gain Binoy’s hand! Now and then a proposal has come our way, but I have not liked anyone! But today I see that he is no less fortunate.’ With these words, Anandamoyi chucked Lalita under the chin and kissed her own fingers in a gesture of affection. Then she sent for Binoy. Leaving Lachhmia in the room on some pretext, she went away to arrange some refreshments for Lalita.
Now there was no room for embarrassment between Lalita and Binoy. The demands of the difficult situation threatening their lives made them see their mutual relationship in natural and significant terms; no haze of emotion came between them like a coloured screen. Without any discussion, they unhesitatingly accepted, humbly and solemnly, that their hearts were united and that like the rivers Ganga and Yamuna the twin streams of their lives were about to merge at a holy junction. Society had not called upon them to unite; no belief had brought them together; theirs was no artificial bond. Aware of this, they perceived their union as a merging of dharmas, in a faith that was immensely simple, that did not squabble over small things, that could not be obstructed by any panchayat pundit.
‘I can’t bear the dishonour of your bending and belittling yourself in order to have me,’ declared Lalita, her eyes and countenance aglow. ‘I want you to stand firm exactly where you are.’
‘You too must stand firm in the place where you belong,’ Binoy responded. ‘There is not the slightest need for you to displace yourself. If affection cannot admit difference, then why should difference exist at all in this world?’
That was the gist of what the two of them said to each other over nearly twenty minutes. They forgot whether they were Hindu or Brahmo. That they were human spirits, both of them, was the sole thought that blazed in their hearts like the steadfast flame of a lamp.
~59~
After his prayers Poreshbabu sat silently in the veranda in front of his room. The sun had just set. At this juncture Binoy arrived there, accompanied by Lalita. Prostrating himself, he touched Poreshbabu’s feet in a pranam. Poresh was rather surprised to see the two of them arrive together.
‘Come, let’s go in,’ he said, as there were no chairs at hand.
‘No, please don’t get up,’ Binoy insisted. He sat down on the floor. Lalita, too, placed herself at Poresh’s feet, a little way off.
‘We have come to you together, the two of us, to seek your blessings,’ declared Binoy. ‘That will be our real initiation.’
Poreshbabu stared at them in amazement.
‘I shall not take my vows in the Samaj in fixed words according to fixed rules,’ Binoy continued. ‘Your blessing is the initiation that will bend our lives in bondage to truth. It is at your feet that our hearts have prostrated themselves in reverence. It is through your hands that the Lord will grant whatever is best for us.’
For a while Poreshbabu remained speechless and still. Then he asked:
‘You won’t become a Brahmo then, Binoy?’
‘No.’
‘Do you want to remain within the Hindu Samaj itself?’ Poreshbabu persisted.
‘Yes.’
Poreshbabu looked at Lalita.
‘Baba,’ she said, sensing his feelings, ‘I still retain my faith and always will. It may cause me inconvenience, even suffering; but I can never think that it would hinder my faith not to alienate and reject those whose beliefs and habits differ from mine.’
Poreshbabu remained silent.
‘Formerly I used to think of the Brahmo Samaj as the only world that existed. Everything beyond it seemed a mere shadow,’ Lalita explained. ‘As if renouncing the Brahmo Samaj amounted to renouncing all forms of truth. But of late, I have completely lost that feeling.’
Poreshbabu smiled wanly.
‘Baba, I can’t tell you what a great change of heart I have undergone,’ she continued. ‘Even if I share their faith, I am in no sense identical with the people I encounter in the Brahmo Samaj. I see no sense, now, in using the name of the Brahmo Samaj to call these people specially my own, keeping everyone else in the world at arm’s length.’
‘Can one make reliable judgements when one’s heart is agitated for personal reasons?’ asked Poreshbabu, gently patting his rebellious daughter’s back. ‘One needs a community to ensure the welfare of one’s family line from ancestors to future progeny. That is no artificial need. Will you not think of your community, which bears responsibility for the far-reaching future of your would-be descendants?’
‘But there is the Hindu community,’ Binoy pointed out.
‘What if the Hindu community does not take responsibility for you two, refuses to accept it?’ asked Poreshbabu.
‘We must take it upon ourselves to make them accept it,’ declared Binoy, recalling Anandamoyi’s attitude. ‘All along, Hindu society has extended shelter to new communities; any religious community can belong to Hindu society.’
‘In verbal argument we may represent things in a certain way, but it may not be borne out in practice,’ Poreshbabu replied. ‘Otherwise, could anyone willingly leave their old social world? To believe in a community that would use outward rituals to shackle people’s religious thoughts to the same fixed position, we must become puppets for the rest of our lives.’
‘If the Hindu community has indeed become so narrow, we must assume the responsibility of setting it free. If one can let in more light and air into the house simply by multiplying its doors and windows, nobody wants to demolish a well-built structure in a fit of rage.’
‘Baba, I understand nothing of all this,’ Lalita blurted out. ‘I have not resolved to take responsibility for the advancement of any community. But I am so oppressed by injustice from all quarters that my heart feels suffocated. I should never tolerate all this with compliance. I don’t even understand what’s right or wrong, but, Baba, I can’t accept this!’
‘Wouldn’t it be better to allow yourself more time?’ suggested Poreshbabu gently. ‘Your mind is restless now.’
‘I don’t mind taking some more time. But I know for sure that untrue rumours and unjust oppressions will keep on multiplying,’ declared Lalita. ‘That is why I am terrified lest, if things become intolerable, I end up doing something that might hurt you as well. Don’t imagine, Baba, that I have not given the matter any thought. I have considered everything well, and co
ncluded that given my habits and education, I may have to accept a great many constraints and sufferings once outside the Brahmo Samaj. But my heart does not shrink from that at all; rather, I feel a certain strength arise within me, a certain elation. My only anxiety, Baba, is lest some action of mine should cause you the slightest pain.’ With these words Lalita began to gently stroke Poreshbabu’s feet.
‘Ma,’ said Poreshbabu with a faint smile, ‘if I depended solely upon my own intellect, I would be hurt by any action that contradicted my desires and beliefs. I can’t say with conviction that the passion that possesses both of you now is entirely inauspicious. I too had once left home in revolt, with no thought for pros and cons. The attacks and counter-attacks constantly directed against our community nowadays are clear signs of the Lord’s power at work. How do I know what He will create and how, through his process of breaking, making and mending things in various ways? What does the Brahmo Samaj mean to Him, or the Hindu community either? He perceives only the human element in us.’ With these words, Poreshbabu closed his eyes for a moment, as if to steady himself inwardly, in the private recesses of his soul.
‘Look here Binoy,’ he continued after a short silence, ‘In our land, society is completely entangled with religious beliefs, hence all our social practices involve religious rituals. Because outsiders to our religion cannot be allowed inside the boundaries of our society under any circumstances, there is no loophole for that purpose. I cannot think how you might circumvent this fact.’
Lalita did not understand him properly, for she had never witnessed the difference between the customs of other communities and her own. She assumed that their customs and rituals did not differ very much, on the whole. As if the relation between different communities resembled that between Binoy and her own family, where differences were not apparent. Actually she was not even aware that the Hindu marriage rites might pose any particular problem for her.
‘Are you referring to the fact that our wedding ritual takes place before the holy stone, the shalgram?’ Binoy inquired.
‘Yes,’ replied Poreshbabu, casting a glance at Lalita. ‘Can Lalita accept that?’
Binoy looked at Lalita’s face. He realized that her whole being was shrinking at the thought. In the heat of passion Lalita had arrived at a point that was unfamiliar and dangerous for her. This aroused extreme compassion in Binoy’s heart. He must save her, bearing the whole brunt of the onslaught himself. It was intolerable to allow such a fiery spirit to turn back in defeat, and equally terrible that in her indomitable eagerness for victory she should bare her bosom to these arrows of death. She must be allowed to triumph, but must also be protected.
For a while Lalita sat with drooping head. Then, raising her face once, she looked pitifully at Binoy and asked: ‘Do you really believe in the shalgram, with all your heart?’
‘No I don’t,’ responded Binoy at once. ‘For me the shalgram is not a deity, merely a social symbol.’
‘But what you privately recognize as a symbol must be publicly acknowledged as a deity?’ Lalita persisted.
‘I shall dispense with the shalgram,’ declared Binoy, glancing at Poresh.
‘Binoy, you two are not considering everything clearly,’ complained Poresh, rising to his feet. ‘We are not speaking only of your views or someone else’s. Marriage is not just a personal matter after all, it is a social act—how can we afford to forget that? Give yourselves some time to think things over. Don’t make up your minds just yet.’ With these words Poresh left the room and went out into the garden. He began to pace up and down there, all by himself.
Lalita paused briefly before she too left the room. Her back to Binoy, she said: ‘If our desires are not wrong, and if they don’t entirely coincide with the laws of a particular community, must we then hang our heads and turn back defeated? This I utterly fail to understand. Is there room for false behaviour in society, but none for conduct that is just?’
Slowly Binoy came up to Lalita. ‘I am not afraid of any community,’ he declared. ‘If we two make truth our refuge, where can a greater community be found than the one we have created?’
Borodasundari stormed into the room. ‘Binoy, you will not take initiation, I hear!’ she demanded.
‘I shall accept initiation from a guru worthy of the name, not from any community,’ Binoy informed her.
‘What is the meaning of all your conspiracies, all these deceitful acts!’ cried Borodasundari, in a rage. ‘Think of the mess you have created, fooling me as well as the Brahmo Samaj by pretending these last two days that you will be initiated! Did you not think even once of the disaster you will bring upon Lalita?’
‘But all members of your Brahmo Samaj do not approve of Binoybabu’s initiation,’ protested Lalita. ‘You have read the papers, haven’t you? What is the need for such an initiation ceremony?’
‘Without that how can the marriage take place?’ Borodasundari demanded.
‘Why not?’ countered Lalita.
‘Will it take place according to Hindu custom then?’ Borodasundari asked. ‘That may be possible,’ said Binoy. ‘I shall deal with the minor obstacles that remain.’
Borodasundari was speechless for a while. Then in a choked voice she said:
‘Binoy, go away from here. Please leave. Don’t come to this house again.’
~60~
Sucharita knew for sure that Gora would visit her that day. Since dawn her heart trembled inwardly. As if the joy of anticipating Gora’s arrival was mixed with a certain apprehension. For at every step she was tormented by the conflict between Gora’s pull in a certain direction and the direction in which her life had grown since infancy, roots, branches and all. So when Gora had bowed at the idol’s feet in Mashi’s room the previous day, Sucharita felt as if daggers had pierced her heart. She could by no means comfort her heart by telling herself: so what if Gora offers pranams, so what if such are indeed his beliefs? When she detected anything in Gora’s behaviour that contradicted her basic religious beliefs, Sucharita’s heart trembled in fear. What sort of battle had Ishwar flung her into!
To offer a good example to Sucharita, the proud novice in their faith, Harimohini led Gora into her prayer room on this occasion as well, and again Gora bent to offer pranams to the deity.
As soon as Gora came into her sitting room downstairs, Sucharita demanded: ‘Do you feel any devotion for this thakur?’
‘Yes I do indeed,’ replied Gora with a little more emphasis than necessary. Hearing this, Sucharita hung her head in silence. Her humble, silent suffering wounded Gora to the heart. ‘Look, I’ll tell you the truth,’ he hastened to clarify. ‘I can’t say for sure that I feel devoted to the deity, but I am devoted to patriotism. I believe in revering the object of the entire nation’s worship through all these ages. I can never regard Him with venom like a Christian missionary.’
Sucharita fixed her gaze on Gora’s face, preoccupied with her thoughts.
‘I know it is very difficult for you to really understand what I’m saying,’ Gora told her. ‘For having grown up within a community, you people have lost the ability to view these things in a natural way. When you look at the thakur in your Mashi’s room, all you see is the stone, but all I see is your Mashi’s tender heart, full of devotion. Seeing that, how can I remain angry or indifferent! Do you think the deity who rules that heart is made of stone?’
‘Is it enough to be devoted? Must one not consider the object of one’s devotion?’ Sucharita demanded.
‘In other words you consider it a delusion to worship a finite object as divine! But must finitude be determined only by one’s own time and place? Suppose a particular line in the scriptures arouses your devotion when you remember it; would you determine the significance of that line merely by measuring the size of the page on which it is inscribed or counting the letters of the alphabet in its words? After all infinitude of emotion is a much greater thing than infinitude of extent. That tiny little idol is more real for your Mashi than the boundless
sky embellished with moon, sun and stars. It is because you quantify your idea of the infinite that you must close your eyes when you think of it; I don’t know if that proves effective. But with open eyes one can find the infinitude of the heart in even the smallest things. If that were not accessible, how after losing all her happiness could your Mashi still cling to that idol? Is it possible to fill such a great void in one’s heart casually, with a piece of stone! Without infinitude of emotion, one can’t fill the emptiness in one’s heart.’
Sucharita could not answer such fine arguments, yet nor could she accept them as true. Hence, her heart only resonated with a pain without language, without power of retaliation. Gora had never felt the slightest sympathy when arguing with his opponents. Rather, in such situations, his heart was aggressive as a beast of prey. But now Sucharita’s silent defeat began to strangely affect his feelings.
‘I don’t want to say anything against your religious beliefs,’ he assured her, softening his tone. ‘All I have to say is, that the deity you attack as a mere idol cannot be known merely by seeing his image; only the person whose heart has found stability, whose soul has been satisfied, whose nature has found a refuge, would know whether this deity is clay or spirit, finite or infinite. I tell you, no devotee in our country worships the finite; the joy of their devotion lies in dispelling all constraints within the limits of the finite.’
‘But everyone is not a devotee,’ Sucharita pointed out.
‘Who cares what someone who is not a devotee may worship!’ countered Gora. ‘What happens to a member of the Brahmo Samaj who is faithless? All his worship ends up in a bottomless void. No, worse than a void: partisanship is his deity, with pride itself for its priest. Have you never witnessed the worship of this blood-thirsty deity in your own community?’