Stories from Tagore
Stories from Tagore-6
Shyama Charan was a severe disciplinarian by
habit and his children were perfectly aware of the
fact. But Bhavani had every possible freedom, and
this gave rise to the impression that he was more
partial to his step-brother than to his own sons.
But Bhavani's education was sadly neglected and he
completely relied on Shyama Charan for the management
of his share of the property. He merely had
to sign documents occasionally without ever spending
a thought on their contents. On the other hand,
Tarapada, the eldest son of Shyama Charan, was
quite an expert in the management of the estate,
having to act as an assistant to his father.
After the death of Shyama Charan, Tarapada
said to Bhavani, "Uncle, we must not live together
as we have done for so long, because some trifling
misunderstanding may come at any moment and
cause utter disruption."
Bhavani never imagined, even in his dream, that
a day might come when he would have to manage
[Pg 154]
his own affairs. The world in which he had been
born and bred ever appeared to him complete and
entire in itself. It was an incomprehensible calamity
to him that there could be a dividing line somewhere
and that this world of his could be split into two.
When he found that Tarapada was immovable and
indifferent to the grief and dishonour that such a
step would bring to the family, he began to rack his
brain to find out how the property could be divided
with the least possible strain.
Tarapada showed surprise at his uncle's anxiety
and said that there was no need to trouble about
this, because the division had already been made in
the life-time of his grandfather. Bhavani said in
amazement, "But I know nothing of this!" Tarapada
said in answer, "Then you must be the only
one in the whole neighbourhood who does not.
For, lest there should be ruinous litigation after he
had gone, my grandfather had already given a portion
of the property to your mother." Bhavani
thought this not unlikely and asked, "What about
the house?" Tarapada said, "If you wish, you
can keep this house to yourself and we shall be contented
with the other house in the district town."
As Bhavani had never been to this town-house, he
had neither knowledge of it, nor affection for it.
He was astounded at the magnanimity of Tarapada
[Pg 155]
for so easily relinquishing his right to the house in
the village where they had been brought up. But
when Bhavani told everything to his mother, she
struck her forehead with her hand and said: "This
is preposterous! What I got from my husband was
my own dowry and its income is very small. I do
not see why you should be deprived of your share
in your father's property."
Bhavani said, "Tarapada is quite positive that
his grandfather never gave us any thing except this
land."
Vraja Sundari was astonished and informed her
son that her husband had made two copies of his
will, one of which was still lying in her own box.
The box was opened and it was found that there
was only the deed of gift for the property belonging
to the mother and nothing else. The copy of the
will had been taken out.
The help of advisers was sought. The man who
came to their rescue was Bagala, the son of their
family guru. It was the profession of the father
to look after the spiritual needs of the village; the
material side was left to the son. The two of them
had divided between themselves the other world and
this. Whatever might be the result for others, they
themselves had nothing to suffer from this division.
Bagala said that, even if the will was missing, the
[Pg 156]
shares in the ancestral property must be equal, as
between the brothers.
Just at this time, a copy of a will made its appearance
supporting the claims of the other side. In this
document there was no mention of Bhavani and the
whole property was given to the grandsons at the
time when no son was born to Bhavani. With
Bagala as his captain Bhavani set out on his voyage
across the perilous sea of litigation. When his
vessel at last reached harbour his funds were nearly
exhausted and the ancestral property was in the
hands of the other party. The land which was
given to his mother had dwindled to such an extent,
that it could barely give them shelter, or keep up the
family dignity. Then Tarapada went away to the
district town and they never met again.
II
Shyama Charan's treachery pierced the heart of
the widow like an assassin's knife. To the end of
her life, almost every day she would heave a sigh
and say that God would never suffer such an injustice
to be done. She was quite firm in her faith
when she said to Bhavani, "I do not know your
law or your law courts, but I am certain that my
husband's true will and testament will someday be
recovered. You will find it again."
[Pg 157]
Because Bhavani was helpless in worldly matters
such assurances as these gave him great consolation.
He settled down in his inactivity, certain in
his own mind that his pious mother's prophecy could
never remain unfulfilled. After his mother's death
his faith became all the stronger, since the memory
of her piety acquired greater radiance through death's
mystery. He felt quite unconcerned about the stress
of their poverty which became more and more
formidable as the years went by. The necessities of
life and the maintenance of family traditions,—these
seemed to him like play acting on a temporary stage,
not real things. When his former expensive clothing
was outworn and he had to buy cheap materials
in the shop, this amused him almost like a joke.
He smiled and said to himself,—"These people do
not know that this is only a passing phase of my
fortune. Their surprise will be all the greater,
when some day I shall celebrate the Puja Festival
with unwonted magnificence."
This certainty of future prodigality was so clear
to his mind's eye that present penury escaped his attention.
His servant, Noto, was the principal companion
with whom he had discussions about these
things. They used to have animated conversations,
in which sometimes his opinion differed from his
master's, as to the propriety of bringing down a
[Pg 158]
theatrical troupe from Calcutta for these future
occasions. Noto used to get reprimands from
Bhavani for his natural miserliness in these items of
future expenditure.
While Bhavani's one anxiety was about the
absence of an heir, who could inherit his vast possible
wealth, a son was born to him. The horoscope
plainly indicated that the lost property would come
back to this boy.
From the time of the birth of his son, Bhavani's
attitude was changed. It became cruelly difficult for
him now to bear his poverty with his old amused
equanimity, because he felt that he had a duty
towards this new representative of the illustrious
house of Saniari, who had such a glorious future before
him. That the traditional extravagance could
not be maintained on the occasion of the birth of his
child gave him the keenest sorrow. He felt as if
he were cheating his own son. So he compensated
his boy with an inordinate amount of spoiling.
Bhavani's wife, Rashmani, had a different temperament
from her husband. She never felt any anxiety
about the family traditions of the Chowdhuris of
Saniari. Bhavani was quite aware of the fact and
indulgently smiled to himself, as though nothing
better could be expected from a woman who came
[Pg 159]
from a Vaishnava family of very humble lineage.
Rashmani frankly acknowledged that she could not
share the family sentiments: what concerned her
most was the welfare of her own child.
There was hardly an acquaintance in the neighbourhood
with whom Bhavani did not discuss the
question of the lost will; but he never spoke a word
about it to his wife. Once or twice he had tried,
but her perfect unconcern had made him drop the
subject. She neither paid attention to the past greatness
of the family, nor to its future glories,—she
kept her mind busy with the actual necessities of the
present, and those necessities were not small in
number or quality.
When the Goddess of Fortune deserts a house, she
usually leaves some of her burdens behind, and this
ancient family was still encumbered with its host of
dependents, though its own shelter was nearly
crumbling to dust. These parasites take it to be
an insult if they are asked to do any service. They
get head-aches at the least touch of the kitchen
smoke. They are visited with sudden rheumatism
the moment they are asked to run errands. Therefore
all the responsibilities of maintaining the family
were laid upon Rashmani herself. Women lose
their delicacy of refinement, when they are compelled
[Pg 160]
night and day to haggle with their destiny over things
which are pitifully small, and for this they are
blamed by those for whom they toil.
Besides her household affairs Rashmani had to
keep all the accounts of the little landed property
which remained and also to make arrangements for
collecting rents. Never before was the estate
managed with such strictness. Bhavani had been
quite incapable of collecting his dues: Rashmani
never made any remission of the least fraction of
rent. The tenants, and even her own agents, reviled
her behind her back for the meanness of the family
from which she came. Even her husband occasionally
used to enter his protest against the harsh
economy which went against the grain of the world-famed
house of Saniari.
Rashmani quite ungrudgingly took the blame of all
this upon herself and openly confessed the poverty
of her parents. Tying the end of her sari tightly
round her waist she went on with her household
duties in her own vigorous fashion and made herself
thoroughly disagreeable both to the inmates of the
house and to her neighbours. But nobody ever had
the courage to interfere. Only one thing she carefully
avoided. She never asked her husband to
help her in any work and she was nervously afraid
of his taking up any responsibilities. Indeed she was
[Pg 161]
always furiously engaged in keeping her husband
idle; and because he had received the best possible
training in this direction she was wholly successful
in her mission.
Rashmani had attained middle age before her son
came. Up to this time all the pent-up tenderness of
the mother in her and all the love of the wife had
their centre of devotion in this simple-hearted good-for-nothing
husband. Bhavani was a child grown
up by mistake beyond its natural age. This was
the reason why, after the death of her husband's
mother, she had to assume the position of mother
and mistress in one.
In order to protect her husband from invasions of
Bagala, the son of the guru, and other calamities,
Rashmani adopted such a stern demeanour, that the
companions of her husband used to be terribly afraid
of her. She never had the opportunity, which a
woman usually has, of keeping her fierceness hidden
and of softening the keen edge of her words,—maintaining
a dignified reserve towards men such as
is proper for a woman.
Bhavani meekly accepted his wife's authority with
regard to himself, but it became extremely hard
for him to obey her when it related to Kalipada,
his son. The reason was, that Rashmani never regarded
Bhavani's son from the point of view of
[Pg 162]
Bhavani himself. In her heart she pitied her husband
and said, "Poor man, it was no fault of his,
but his misfortune, to be born into a rich family."
That is why she never could expect her husband
to be deprived of any comfort to which he had been
accustomed. Whatever might be the condition of
the household finance, she tried hard to keep him in
his habitual ease and luxury. Under her régime all
expense was strictly limited except in the case of
Bhavani. She would never allow him to notice if
some inevitable gap occurred in the preparation of
his meals or his apparel. She would blame some
imaginary dog for spoiling dishes that were never
made and would blame herself for her carelessness.
She would attack Noto for letting some fictitious
article of dress be stolen or lost. This had the usual
effect of rousing Bhavani's sympathy on behalf of his
favourite servant and he would take up his defence.
Indeed it had often happened that Bhavani had confessed
with bare-faced shamelessness that he had
used the dress which had never been bought, and for
whose loss Noto was blamed; but what happened
afterwards, he had not the power to invent and was
obliged to rely upon the fertile imagination of his
wife who was also the accuser!
Thus Rashmani treated her husband, but she
never put her son in the same category. For he was
[Pg 163]
her own child and why should he be allowed to give
himself airs? Kalipada had to be content for his
breakfast with a few handfuls of puffed rice and
some treacle. During the cold weather he had to
wrap his body as well as his head with a thick rough
cotton chaddar. She would call his teacher before
her and warn him never to spare her boy, if he was
the least neglectful with his lessons. This treatment
of his own son was the hardest blow that
Bhavani Charan suffered since the days of his destitution.
But as he had always acknowledged defeat at
the hands of the powerful, he had not the spirit to
stand up against his wife in her method of dealing
with the boy.
The dress which Rashmani provided for her son,
during the Puja festivities, was made of such poor
material that in former days the very servants of
the house would have rebelled if it had been offered
to them. But Rashmani more than once tried her
best to explain to her husband that Kalipada, being
the most recent addition to the Chowdhuri family,
had never known their former splendour and so was
quite glad to get what was given to him. But this
pathetic innocence of the boy about his own destiny
hurt Bhavani more than anything else, and he could
not forgive himself for deceiving the child. When
Kalipada would dance for joy and rush to him to
[Pg 164]
show him some present from his mother, which was
ridiculously trivial, Bhavani's heart would suffer
torture.
Bagala, the guru's son, was now in an affluent condition
owing to his agency in the law suit which had
brought about the ruin of Bhavani. With the money
which he had in hand he used to buy cheap tinsel
wares from Calcutta before the Puja holidays. Invisible
ink,—absurd combinations of stick, fishing-rod
and umbrella,—letter-paper with pictures in the
corner,—silk fabrics bought at auctions, and other
things of this kind, attractive to the simple villagers,—these
were his stock in trade. All the forward
young men of the village vied with one another in
rising above their rusticity by purchasing these
sweepings of the Calcutta market which, they were
told, were absolutely necessary for the city gentry.
Once Bagala had bought a wonderful toy,—a doll
in the form of a foreign woman,—which, when
wound up, would rise from her chair and begin to
fan herself with sudden alacrity. Kalipada was
fascinated by it. He had a very good reason to
avoid asking his mother about the toy; so he went
straight to his father and begged him to purchase it
for him. Bhavani answered "yes" at once, but
when he heard the price his face fell. Rashmani
kept all the money and he went to her as a timid
[Pg 165]
beggar. He began with all sorts of irrelevant remarks
and then took a desperate plunge into the
subject with startling incoherence.
Rashmani briefly remarked: "Are you mad?"
Bhavani Charan sat silent revolving in his mind what
to say next.
"Look here," he exclaimed, "I don't think I
need milk pudding daily with my dinner."
"Who told you?" said Rashmani sharply.
"The doctor says it's very bad for biliousness."
"The doctor's a fool!"
"But I'm sure that rice agrees with me better than
your luchis. They are too indigestible."
"I've never seen the least sign of indigestion in
you. You have been accustomed to them all your
life!"
Bhavani Charan was ready enough to make
sacrifices, but there his passage was barred. Butter
might rise in price, but the number of his luchis never
diminished. Milk was quite enough for him at his
midday meal, but curds also had to be supplied because
that was the family tradition. Rashmani
could not have borne seeing him sit down to his
meal, if curds were not supplied. Therefore all his
attempts to make a breach in his daily provisions,
through which the fanning foreign woman might
enter, were an utter failure.
[Pg 166]
Then Bhavani paid a visit to Bagala for no reason
whatever, and after a great deal of round about
talk asked concerning the foreign doll. Of course
his straightened circumstances had long been known
to Bagala, yet it was a perfect misery to Bhavani
to have to hesitate to buy this doll for his son owing
to want of ready money. Swallowing his pride, he
brought out from under his arm an expensive old
Kashmir shawl, and said in a husky voice: "My
circumstances are bad just at present and I haven't
got much cash. So I have determined to mortgage
this shawl and buy that doll for Kalipada."
If the object offered had been less expensive than
this Kashmir shawl, Bagala would at once have
closed the bargain. But knowing that it would not
be possible for him to take possession of this shawl
in face of the village opinion, and still more in face
of Rashmani's watchfulness, he refused to accept it;
and Bhavani had to go back home disappointed with
the Kashmir shawl hidden under his arm.
Kalipada asked every day for that foreign fanning
toy, and Bhavani smiled every day and said,—"Wait,
a bit, my boy, till the seventh day of the
moon comes round." But every new day it became
more and more difficult to keep up that smile.
On the fourth day of the moon Bhavani made
a sudden inroad upon his wife and said:
[Pg 167]
"I've noticed that there's something wrong with
Kalipada,—something the matter with his health."
"Nonsense," said Rashmani, "he's in the best of
health."
"Haven't you noticed him sitting silent for hours
together?"
"I should be very greatly relieved if he could sit
still for as many minutes."
When all his arrows had missed their mark, and
no impression had been made, Bhavani Charan
heaved a deep sigh and passing his fingers through
his hair went away and sat down on the verandah
and began to smoke with fearful assiduity.
On the fifth day, at his morning meal, Bhavani
passed by the curds and the milk pudding without
touching them. In the evening he simply took one
single piece of sandesh. The luchis were left unheeded.
He complained of want of appetite.
This time a considerable breach was made in the
fortifications.
On the sixth day, Rashmani took Kalipada into
the room and sweetly calling him by his pet name
said, "Betu, you are old enough to know that it is
the halfway house to stealing to desire that which
you can't have."
Kalipada whimpered and said, "What do I know
about it? Father promised to give me that doll."
[Pg 168]
Rashmani sat down to explain to him how much
lay behind his father's promise,—how much pain,
how much affection, how much loss and privation.
Rashmani had never in her life before talked thus
to Kalipada, because it was her habit to give short
and sharp commands. It filled the boy with amazement
when he found his mother coaxing him and
explaining things at such a length, and mere child
though he was, he could fathom something of the
deep suffering of his mother's heart. Yet at the
same time it will be easily understood, that it
was hard for this boy to turn his mind away altogether
from that captivating foreign fanning woman.
He pulled a long face and began to scratch the
ground.
This made Rashmani's heart at once hard, and
she said in her severe tone: "Yes, you may weep
and cry, or become angry, but you shall never get
that which is not for you to have." And she
hastened away without another word.
Kalipada went out. Bhavani Charan was still
smoking his hookah. Noticing Kalipada from a distance
he got up and walked in the opposite direction
as if he had some urgent business. Kalipada ran to
him and said,—"But that doll?" Bhavani could
not raise a smile that day. He put his arm round
Kalipada's neck and said:
[Pg 169]
"Baba, wait a little. I have some pressing business
to get through. Let me finish it first, and then
we will talk about it." Saying this, he went out of
his house.
Kalipada saw him brush a tear from his eyes.
He stood at the door and watched his father, and
it was quite evident, even to this boy, that he was
going nowhere in particular, and that he was dragging
the weight of a despair which could not be relieved.
Kalipada at once went back to his mother and
said:
"Mother, I don't want that foreign doll."
That morning Bhavani Charan returned late.
When he sat down to his meal, after his bath, it was
quite evident, by the look on his face, that the curds
and the milk pudding would fare no better with him
than on the day before, and that the best part of
the fish would go to the cat.
Just at this critical juncture Rashmani brought in
a card-board box, bound round with twine, and set
it before her husband. Her intention had been to
reveal the mystery of this packet to her husband
when he went to take his nap after his meal. But in
order to remove the undeserved neglect of the curds
and the milk and the fish, she had to disclose its contents
before the time. So the foreign doll came
[Pg 170]
out of the box and without more ado began to fan
itself vigorously.
After this, the cat had to go away disappointed.
Bhavani remarked to his wife that the cooking was
the best he had ever tasted. The fish soup was incomparable:
the curds had set themselves with an
exactness that was rarely attained, and the milk
pudding was superb.
On the seventh day of the moon, Kalipada got the
toy for which he had been pining. During the whole
of that day he allowed the foreigner to go on fanning
herself and thereby made his boy companions jealous.
In any other case this performance would have
seemed to him monotonously tiresome, but knowing
that on the following day he would have to give
the toy back, his constancy to it on that single occasion
remained unabated. At the rental of two
rupees per diem Rashmani had hired it from
Bagala.
On the eighth day of the moon, Kalipada heaved
a deep sigh and returned the toy, along with the box
and twine, to Bagala with his own hands. From
that day forward Kalipada began to share the confidences
of his mother, and it became so absurdly easy
for Bhavani to give expensive presents every year,
that it surprised even himself.
When, with the help of his mother, Kalipada came
[Pg 171]
to know that nothing in this world could be gained
without paying for it with the inevitable price of
suffering, he rapidly grew up in his mind and became
a valued assistant to his mother in her daily tasks.
It come to be a natural rule of life with him that
no one should add to the burden of the world, but
that each should try to lighten it.
When Kalipada won a scholarship at the
Vernacular examination, Bhavani proposed that he
should give up his studies and take in hand the supervision
of the estate. Kalipada went to his mother
and said,—"I shall never be a man, if I do not
complete my education."
The mother said,—"You are right, Baba, you
must go to Calcutta."
Kalipada explained to her that it would not be
necessary to spend a single pice on him; his scholarship
would be sufficient, and he would try to get some
work to supplement it.
But it was necessary to convince Bhavani of the
wisdom of the course. Rashmani did not wish to
employ the argument that there was very little of
the estate remaining to require supervision; for she
knew how it would hurt him. She said that Kalipada
must become a man whom everyone could
respect. But all the members of the Chowdhuri
family had attained their respectability without ever
[Pg 172]
going a step outside the limits of Saniari. The
outer world was as unknown to them as the world
beyond the grave. Bhavani, therefore, could not
conceive how anybody could think of a boy like Kalipada
going to Calcutta. But the cleverest man in
the village, Bagala, fortunately agreed with Rashmani.
"It is perfectly clear," he said, "that, one day,
Kalipada will become a lawyer; and then he will set
matters right concerning the property of which the
family has been deprived."
This was a great consolation to Bhavani Charan
and he brought out the file of records about the theft
of the will and tried to explain the whole thing to
Kalipada by dint of daily discussion. But his son
was lacking in proper enthusiasm and merely echoed
his father's sentiment about this solemn wrong.
The day before Kalipada's departure for Calcutta
Rashmani hung round his neck an amulet containing
some mantras to protect him from evils. She gave
him at the same time a fifty-rupee currency note,
advising him to keep it for any special emergency.
This note, which was the symbol of his mother's
numberless daily acts of self-denial, was the truest
amulet of all for Kalipada. He determined to keep
it by him and never to spend it, whatever might
happen.
[Pg 173]
III
From this time onward the old interminable discussions
about the theft of the will became less frequent
on the part of Bhavani. His one topic of
conversation was the marvellous adventure of Kalipada
in search of his education. Kalipada was
actually engaged in his studies in the city of Calcutta!
Kalipada knew Calcutta as well as the palm
of his hand! Kalipada had been the first to hear
the great news that another bridge was going to be
built over the Ganges near Hughli! The day on
which the father received his son's letter, he would
go to every house in the village to read it to his
neighbours and he would hardly find time even to take
his spectacles from his nose. On arriving at a
fresh house he would remove them from their case
with the utmost deliberation; then he would wipe
them carefully with the end of his dhoti; then, word
by word, he would slowly read the letter through to
one neighbour after another, with something like the
following comment:—
"Brother, just listen! What is the world coming
to? Even the dogs and the jackals are to cross the
holy Ganges without washing the dust from their
feet! Who could imagine such a sacrilege?"
No doubt it was very deplorable; but all the same
[Pg 174]
it gave Bhavani Charan a peculiar pleasure to communicate
at first hand such important news from his
own son's letter, and this more than compensated for
the spiritual disaster which must surely overtake the
numberless creatures of this present age. To everyone
he met he solemnly nodded his head and prophesied
that the days were soon coming when Mother
Ganges would disappear altogether; all the while
cherishing the hope that the news of such a momentous
event would come to him by letter from his own
son in the proper time.
Kalipada, with very great difficulty, scraped
together just enough money to pay his expenses till
he passed his Matriculation and again won a
scholarship. Bhavani at once made up his mind to
invite all the village to a feast, for he imagined that
his son's good ship of fortune had now reached its
haven and there would be no more occasion for
economy. But he received no encouragement from
Rashmani.
Kalipada was fortunate enough to secure a place
of study in a students' lodging house near his college.
The proprietor allowed him to occupy a small room
on the ground floor which was absolutely useless
for other lodgers. In exchange for this and his
board, he had to coach the son of the owner of the
house. The one great advantage was that there
[Pg 175]
would be no chance of any fellow lodger ever sharing
his quarters. So, although ventilation was lacking,
his studies were uninterrupted.
Those of the students who paid their rent and
lived in the upper story had no concern with Kalipada;
but soon it became painfully evident that those
who are up above have the power to hurl missiles at
those below with all the more deadly force because
of their distance. The leader of those above was
Sailen.
Sailen was the scion of a rich family. It was
unnecessary for him to live in a students' mess, but
he successfully convinced his guardians that this
would be best for his studies. The real reason was
that Sailen was naturally fond of company, and the
students' lodging house was an ideal place where he
could have all the pleasure of companionship without
any of its responsibilities. It was the firm conviction
of Sailen that he was a good fellow and a
man of feeling. The advantage of harbouring such
a conviction was that it needed no proof in practice.
Vanity is not like a horse or an elephant requiring
expensive fodder.
Nevertheless, as Sailen had plenty of money he
did not allow his vanity merely to graze at large; he
took special pride in keeping it stall-fed. It must
be said to his credit that he had a genuine desire
[Pg 176]
to help people in their need, but the desire in him
was of such a character, that if a man in difficulty
refused to come to him for help, he would turn
round on him and do his best to add to his trouble.
His mess mates had their tickets for the theatre
bought for them by Sailen, and it cost them nothing
to have occasional feasts. They could borrow
money from him without meaning to pay it back.
When a newly married youth was in doubt about the
choice of some gift for his wife, he could fully rely
on Sailen's good taste in the matter. On these occasions
the love-lorn youth would take Sailen to the
shop and pretend to select the cheapest and least
suitable presents: then Sailen, with a contemptuous
laugh would intervene and select the right thing. At
the mention of the price the young husband would
pull a long face, but Sailen would always be ready
to abide by his own superior choice and to pay the
cost.
In this manner Sailen became the acknowledged
patron of the students upstairs. It made him intolerant
of the insolence of any one who refused to
accept his help. Indeed, to help others in this way
had become his hobby.
Kalipada, in his tattered jersey, used to sit on a
dirty mat in his damp room below and recite his
lessons, swinging himself from side to side to the
[Pg 177]
rhythm of the sentence. It was a sheer necessity
for him to get that scholarship next year.
Kalipada's mother had made him promise, before
he left home for Calcutta that he would avoid the
company of rich young men. Therefore he bore
the burden of his indigence alone, strictly keeping
himself from those who had been more favoured by
fortune. But to Sailen, it seemed a sheer impertinence
that a student as poor as Kalipada should yet
have the pride to keep away from his patronage.
Besides this, in his food and dress and everything,
Kalipada's poverty was so blatantly exposed, it
hurt Sailen's sense of decency. Every time he
looked down into Kalipada's room, he was offended
by the sight of the cheap clothing, the dingy mosquito
net and the tattered bedding. Whenever he passed
on his way to his own room in the upper story the
sight of these things was unavoidable. To crown
it all there was that absurd amulet which Kalipada
always had hanging round his neck, and those daily
rites of devotion which were so ridiculously out of
fashion!
One day Sailen and his followers condescended to
invite Kalipada to a feast, thinking that his gratitude
would know no bounds. But Kalipada sent an
answer saying that his habits were different and it
would not be wholesome for him to accept the invitation.
[Pg 178]
Sailen was unaccustomed to such a refusal,
and it roused up in him all the ferocity of his insulted
benevolence. For some days after this, the noise on
the upper story became so loudly insistent that it
was impossible for Kalipada to go on with his
studies. He was compelled to spend the greater
part of his days studying in the Park, and to get up
very early and sit down to his work long before it
was light.
Owing to his half-starved condition, his mental
overwork, and badly-ventilated room, Kalipada
began to suffer from continual attacks of headache.
There were times when he was obliged to lie down
on his bed for three or four days together. But
he made no mention of his illness in his letters to his
father. Bhavani himself was certain that, just as
vegetation grew rank in his village surroundings, so
comforts of all kinds sprang up of themselves from
the soil of Calcutta. Kalipada never for a moment
disabused his mind of that misconception. He did
not fail to write to his father, even when suffering
from one of these paroxysms of pain. The deliberate
rowdiness of the students in the upper story
added at such times to his distress.
Kalipada tried to make himself as scarce and small
as possible, in order to avoid notice; but this did not
bring him relief. One day, he found that a cheap
[Pg 179]
shoe of his own had been taken away and replaced
by an expensive foreign one. It was impossible for
him to go to college with such an incongruous pair.
He made no complaint, however, but bought some
old second-hand shoes from the cobbler. One day,
a student from the upper story came into his room
and asked him:
"Have you, by any mistake, brought away my
silver cigarette case with you?"
Kalipada got annoyed and answered:
"I have never been inside your room in my life."
The student stooped down. "Hullo!" he said,
"here it is!" And the valuable cigarette case was
picked up from the corner of the room.
Kalipada determined to leave this lodging house
as soon as ever he had passed his Intermediate Examination,
provided only he could get a scholarship to
enable him to do so.
Every year the students of the house used to have
their annual Saraswati Puja. Though the greater
part of the expenses fell to the share of Sailen, every
one else contributed according to his means. The
year before, they had contemptuously left out Kalipada
from the list of contributors; but this year,
merely to tease him, they came with their subscription
book. Kalipada instantly paid five rupees to
the fund, though he had no intention of participating
[Pg 180]
in the feast. His penury had long brought on him
the contempt of his fellow lodgers, but this unexpected
gift of five rupees became to them insufferable.
The Saraswati Puja was performed with great éclat
and the five rupees could easily have been spared.
It had been hard indeed for Kalipada to part with
it. While he took the food given him in his landlord's
house he had no control over the time at which
it was served. Besides this, since the servants
brought him the food, he did not like to criticise the
dishes. He preferred to provide himself with some
extra things; and after the forced extravagance of
his five-rupee subscription he had to forgo all this
and suffered in consequence. His paroxysms of
headache became more frequent, and though he
passed his examination, he failed to obtain the scholarship
that he desired.