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'My Lord, my Lord,
Who can stem the turbulent tide of youth? The tide is
on
And my new boat sails joyous; The captain is at the
helm,
My Lord, my Lord, Let me brush aside
These embankments of sand And reach the land of
my hearts desire.
The tide is on the swelling stream My Lord, my Lord,
Who can stem the turbulent tide of youth?'
The human voices stopped singing and the sarangi
sang alone:
'My Lord, my Lord,
The tide is on the swelling stream Who can stem the
tide on the swelling stream?'
Shanti slowly entered the very heart of the jungle. No
one from outside might ever see what lay inside this
wilderness of darkness  a little cottage hidden by the
branches and the foliage of the trees, the roof made of
leaves. Twigs of trees served as strings. The floor was
of wood covered with earth. Shanti opened the door of
creepers, and entered the cottage. Jiban was playing
the sarangi there.
'You come here after such a long time, Shanti?' Jiban
said. Is it high tide in the river again?'
'Dead pools are never affected with the rising tide in
the rivers, you know,' Shanti said as she laughed.
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 Jiban was disappointed at the reply, and said: 'Look
here, Shanti, for the sin of breaking my vow but once, I
have to pay with my life. That penalty must be paid. It
is only at your request that I have not yet paid it. But a
fierce battle cannot be long delayed. On that battlefield
I must pay the penalty. I have to die  and I must die
then. The day of my death is here! But  .'
'I am your wife by faith,' Shanti interrupted. 'It is my
religious duty to help you in the performance of your
duties. You have accepted a rigorous religion. I left
home only to help you in the path of your duty. I am
roaming in these jungles so that you and I together
may serve Mother India to the best of our ability. I
want to fortify you in the discharge of your duties as a
Child. As a wife in the faith, how can I stand in the
way of your higher duties? Marriage is for this life as
well as for the next. Let us imagine that the earthly part
of the marriage was not meant to be ours. Our
marriage is only for the life beyond death. We shall
thus reap a double harvest for our unflinching loyalty
to our duties. But why speak of the supreme
atonement? What sin have you committed? You
promised not to live with a woman. And you have not
done that Then why do you talk of penalty, and of
death, my most beloved? You are my teacher. How can
I teach you the way of the dharma? You are a hero and
how can I teach you the duties of a hero?'
'Shanti, you have just taught me a great lesson,' Jiban
said with tears in his eyes. 'And yet, our marriage in
this life has not been in vain either. You love me and I
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love you. Can anyone expect anything higher than that
from a marriage on earth? So sing Bande Mataram, and
forget all sorrows in the supreme joy of that song.'
Fervently they both sang together.
4
ne of those days Bhavan went to the
O
town. There he left a broad street to enter
a dark and narrow lane. High buildings stood on both
sides of the lane. Only at noon could the sunlight
penetrate the lane and that too for a short time. At all
other hours darkness reigned supreme.
Bhavan entered a two-storied building by the lane
and walked into the kitchen. A middle-aged woman
was cooking there. She was fat and dark, dressed in
pure white as a widow. She was stirring rice, talking
aloud to herself and making grimaces.
'Good morning, grandma cook,' Bhavan said. She
was taken aback to see Bhavan, and began fixing her
dress. So fat was she that an ordinary sari was too
short for the proper veiling of her face. In a mood of
embarrassment she said: 'I see it is Bhavan. You are
most welcome. But why do you use such polite
language with me?'
'You are our grandma.'
'You are very affectionate so that you call me
grandma. You are a holy man. Well, well may you live
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long  that is, you may call me grandma  at any rate
I am much older than you are.'
Gouri was in fact about twenty-five years older than
him, but the clever Bhavan said: 'What do you mean,
grandma? I call you grandma because you are such a
romantic young lady! Don't you remember that you
were six years my junior the last time we made the
calculation? I feel as if I must ask the permission of the
leader of our order to get married to you. I came here
today only to say this to you/
'You should never say such things! I am a widow, you
know.'
'Do you mean to imply that I can't marry you?'
'Well, you may do just as you please. You are a
learned man, and I am a woman of no education. What
do I understand about these things? But  then 
when do you think we should get married?'
'I must meet the leader of our order first. But, by the
way, how is Kalyani?' Bhavan strained every nerve to
restrain his laughter.
Gouri looked hurt. She suspected the sincerity of
Bhavan and at once came to the conclusion that he was
only joking with her. So she said rather indifferently:
'She is all right, as usual.'
'Please go upstairs and tell her that I am here and [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]