The Home and the World, Rabindranath Tagore [robert munsch read aloud txt] 📗
- Author: Rabindranath Tagore
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"I have come to give you a warning, Sandip," said my husband.
"About the fever fit of poesy?"
My husband took no notice of this attempt at humour. "For some
time," he continued, "Mahomedan preachers have been about
stirring up the local Mussulmans. They are all wild with you,
and may attack you any moment."
"Are you come to advise flight?"
"I have come to give you information, not to offer advice."
"Had these estates been mine, such a warning would have been
necessary for the preachers, not for me. If, instead of trying
to frighten me, you give them a taste of your intimidation, that
would be worthier both of you and me. Do you know that your
weakness is weakening your neighbouring zamindars also?"
"I did not offer you my advice, Sandip. I wish you, too, would
refrain from giving me yours. Besides, it is useless. And there
is another thing I want to tell you. You and your followers have
been secretly worrying and oppressing my tenantry. I cannot
allow that any longer. So I must ask you to leave my territory."
"For fear of the Mussulmans, or is there any other fear you have
to threaten me with?"
"There are fears the want of which is cowardice. In the name of
those fears, I tell you, Sandip, you must go. In five days I
shall be starting for Calcutta. I want you to accompany me. You
may of course stay in my house there--to that there is no
objection."
"All right, I have still five day's time then. Meanwhile, Queen
Bee, let me hum to you my song of parting from your honey-hive.
Ah! you poet of modern Bengal! Throw open your doors and let me
plunder your words. The theft is really yours, for it is my song
which you have made your own--let the name be yours by all means,
but the song is mine." With this Sandip struck up in a deep,
husky voice, which threatened to be out of tune, a song in the
Bhairavi mode:
/*
"In the springtime of your kingdom, my Queen,
Meetings and partings chase each other in their endless hide
and seek,And flowers blossom in the wake of those that droop and die in
the shade.In the springtime of your kingdom, my Queen,
My meeting with you had its own songs,
But has not also my leave-taking any gift to offer you?
That gift is my secret hope, which I keep hidden in the shadows
of your flower garden,That the rains of July may sweetly temper your fiery June."
*/
His boldness was immense--boldness which had no veil, but was naked
as fire. One finds no time to stop it: it is like trying
to resist a thunderbolt: the lightning flashes: it laughs at all
resistance.
I left the room. As I was passing along the verandah towards the
inner apartments, Amulya suddenly made his appearance and came
and stood before me.
"Fear nothing, Sister Rani," he said. "I am off tonight and
shall not return unsuccessful."
"Amulya," said I, looking straight into his earnest, youthful
face, "I fear nothing for myself, but may I never cease to fear
for you."
Amulya turned to go, but before he was out of sight I called him
back and asked: "Have you a mother, Amulya?"
"I have."
"A sister?"
"No, I am the only child of my mother. My father died when I was
quite little."
"Then go back to your mother, Amulya."
"But, Sister Rani, I have now both mother and sister."
"Then, Amulya, before you leave tonight, come and have your
dinner here."
"There won't be time for that. Let me take some food for the
journey, consecrated with your touch."
"What do you specially like, Amulya?"
"If I had been with my mother I should have had lots of Poush
cakes. Make some for me with your own hands, Sister Rani!"
Of the Ramayana. The story of his devotion to hiselder brother Rama and his brother's wife Sita, has become a
byword.
Chapter Ten
Nikhil's Story
XII
I LEARNT from my master that Sandip had joined forces with Harish
Kundu, and there was to be a grand celebration of the worship of
the demon-destroying Goddess. Harish Kundu was extorting the
expenses from his tenantry. Pandits Kaviratna and Vidyavagish
had been commissioned to compose a hymn with a double meaning.
My master has just had a passage at arms with Sandip over this.
"Evolution is at work amongst the gods as well," says Sandip.
"The grandson has to remodel the gods created by the grandfather
to suit his own taste, or else he is left an atheist. It is my
mission to modernize the ancient deities. I am born the saviour
of the gods, to emancipate them from the thraldom of the past."
I have seen from our boyhood what a juggler with ideas is Sandip.
He has no interest in discovering truth, but to make a quizzical
display of it rejoices his heart. Had he been born in the wilds
of Africa he would have spent a glorious time inventing argument
after argument to prove that cannibalism is the best means of
promoting true communion between man and man. But those who deal
in delusion end by deluding themselves, and I fully believe that,
each time Sandip creates a new fallacy, he persuades himself that
he has found the truth, however contradictory his creations may
be to one another.
However, I shall not give a helping hand to establish a liquor
distillery in my country. The young men, who are ready to offer
their services for their country's cause, must not fall into this
habit of getting intoxicated. The people who want to exact work
by drugging methods set more value on the excitement than on the
minds they intoxicate.
I had to tell Sandip, in Bimala's presence, that he must go.
Perhaps both will impute to me the wrong motive. But I must free
myself also from all fear of being misunderstood. Let even
Bimala misunderstand me ...
A number of Mahomedan preachers are being sent over from Dacca.
The Mussulmans in my territory had come to have almost as much of
an aversion to the killing of cows as the Hindus. But now cases
of cow-killing are cropping up here and there. I had the news
first from some of my Mussulman tenants with expressions of their
disapproval. Here was a situation which I could see would be
difficult to meet. At the bottom was a pretence of fanaticism,
which would cease to be a pretence if obstructed. That is just
where the ingenuity of the move came in!
I sent for some of my principal Hindu tenants and tried to get
them to see the matter in its proper light. "We can be staunch
in our own convictions," I said, "but we have no control over
those of others. For all that many of us are Vaishnavas, those
of us who are Shaktas go on with their animal sacrifices just the
same. That cannot be helped. We must, in the same way, let the
Mussulmans do as they think best. So please refrain from all
disturbance."
"Maharaja," they replied, "these outrages have been unknown for
so long."
"That was so," I said, "because such was their spontaneous
desire. Let us behave in such a way that the same may become
true, over again. But a breach of the peace is not the way to
bring this about."
"No, Maharaja," they insisted, "those good old days are gone.
This will never stop unless you put it down with a strong hand."
"Oppression," I replied, "will not only not prevent cow-killing,
it may lead to the killing of men as well."
One of them had had an English education. He had learnt to
repeat the phrases of the day. "It is not only a question of
orthodoxy," he argued. "Our country is mainly agricultural, and
cows are ..."
"Buffaloes in this country," I interrupted, "likewise give milk
and are used for ploughing. And therefore, so long as we dance
frantic dances on our temple pavements, smeared with their blood,
their severed heads carried on our shoulders, religion will only
laugh at us if we quarrel with Mussulmans in her name, and
nothing but the quarrel itself will remain true. If the cow
alone is to be held sacred from slaughter, and not the buffalo,
then that is bigotry, not religion."
"But are you not aware, sir, of what is behind all this?"
pursued the English-knowing tenant. "This has only become
possible because the Mussulman is assured of safety, even if he
breaks the law. Have you not heard of the Pachur case?"
"Why is it possible," I asked, "to use the Mussulmans thus, as
tools against us? Is it not because we have fashioned them into
such with our own intolerance? That is how Providence punishes
us. Our accumulated sins are being visited on our own heads."
"Oh, well, if that be so, let them be visited on us. But we
shall have our revenge. We have undermined what was the greatest
strength of the authorities, their devotion to their own laws.
Once they were truly kings, dispensing justice; now they
themselves will become law-breakers, and so no better than
robbers. This may not go down to history, but we shall carry it
in our hearts for all time ..."
The evil reports about me which are spreading from paper to paper
are making me notorious. News comes that my effigy has been
burnt at the river-side burning-ground of the Chakravartis, with
due ceremony and enthusiasm; and other insults are in
contemplation. The trouble was that they had come to ask me to
take shares in a Cotton Mill they wanted to start. I had to tell
them that I did not so much mind the loss of my own money, but I
would not be a party to causing a loss to so many poor
shareholders.
"Are we to understand, Maharaja," said my visitors, "that the
prosperity of the country does not interest you?"
"Industry may lead to the country's prosperity," I explained,
"but a mere desire for its prosperity will not make for success
in industry. Even when our heads were cool, our industries did
not flourish. Why should we suppose that they will do so just
because we have become frantic?"
"Why not say plainly that you will not risk your money?"
"I will put in my money when I see that it is industry which
prompts you. But, because you have lighted a fire, it does not
follow that you have the food to cook over it."
XIII
What is this? Our Chakua sub-treasury looted! A remittance of
seven thousand five hundred rupees was due from there to
headquarters. The local cashier had changed the cash at the
Government Treasury into small currency notes for convenience in
carrying, and had kept them ready in bundles. In the middle of
the night an armed band had raided the room, and wounded Kasim,
the man on guard. The curious part of it was that they had taken
only six thousand rupees and left the rest scattered on the
floor, though it would have been as easy to carry that away also.
Anyhow, the raid of the dacoits was over; now the police raid
would begin. Peace was out of the question.
When I went
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