14

When Gora sat down to his midday meal, Anandamayi gently broached the subject: “Binoy came this morning. Did you not meet him?”

Without raising his eyes from his plate, Gora said, “Yes, I did.”

Anandamayi sat in silence for a long while, then said, “I asked him to stay, but he seemed distracted and went away.”

Gora made no reply. Anandamayi said, “Something is troubling him, Gora. I have never seen him like this before. My heart is heavy.”

Gora continued eating in silence. Because Anandamayi loved Gora deeply, she also held a measure of quiet awe toward him. When he did not open his heart to her of his own accord, she never pressed him. Any other day she would have let the matter rest there. But today her heart ached so keenly for Binoy that she continued: “Listen, Gora, I want to say one thing — do not be angry. God has created many people, but He has not opened only one path for all of them. Binoy loves you as his own life, and so he endures everything from you. But to insist that he must walk only your path — that compulsion will bring no happiness.”

Gora said, “Mother, bring me a little more milk.”

The conversation ended there. After the meal, Anandamayi sat quietly on her wooden divan and took up her sewing. Lachmiya made an idle attempt to draw her into a discussion of some servant’s misbehaviour, then gave it up and lay down on the floor to sleep.

Gora spent a considerable stretch of time writing letters. He knew well enough that Binoy had clearly perceived his anger that very morning, and yet it was inconceivable that Binoy would not come to make it right. And so, even in the midst of all his work, he kept one ear alert for the sound of Binoy’s footstep.

The day wore on — Binoy did not come. Gora was just thinking of putting down his pen when Mahim walked into the room. Barely settled in his chair, Mahim said, “What are you thinking about Shashimukhi’s marriage, Gora?”

Gora had not given it a single thought even for a day, and so he had no choice but to sit in silence like a man caught out.

Mahim discoursed at length on how high the price of eligible bridegrooms had risen in the market and how straitened the finances of the household had become, and asked Gora to think of a way out. When Gora could find no solution, Mahim, in order to rescue him from his difficulty, brought up the subject of Binoy. All this roundabout approach had been quite unnecessary, but Mahim, for all his bluster before Gora, secretly held him in a degree of awe.

That Binoy’s name might arise in such a connection had not crossed Gora’s mind even in a dream. Moreover, both Gora and Binoy had resolved to dedicate their lives to the service of the country without marrying. Gora therefore said, “Why would Binoy marry?”

Mahim said, “A fine sort of Hindu piety this is! You may keep all the tufts you like and mark your foreheads with ash — the English manner seeps out through the very marrow of your bones. Do you not know that according to the scriptures, marriage is one of the essential sacraments for the son of a Brahmin?”

Mahim was not of the modern sort who flout religious custom, nor did he pay much heed to scripture himself. He thought it equally excessive to make a show of dining in hotels, and equally eccentric to be perpetually wrestling with the Shruti and Smriti as Gora did. But when in Rome — before Gora, one had to invoke the authority of scripture.

Had this proposal come two days earlier, Gora would not have given it so much as an ear. Today it seemed to him that the matter was not entirely unworthy of consideration. At the very least, here was an occasion to go at once to Binoy’s lodgings on the pretext of this proposal.

Gora said at last, “Very well, let me sound out Binoy’s inclinations.”

Mahim said, “There is no need to sound him out. He will never be able to refuse you. It is as good as settled. You have only to say the word.”

That very evening Gora arrived at Binoy’s lodgings. Sweeping into his room like a gale, he found no one there. Calling the bearer and asking where the master was, he was told: “Babu has gone to house number seventy-eight.” At these words Gora’s whole spirit turned cold and desolate. All day long it was Binoy who had given Gora no peace of mind — yet that same Binoy could not spare even a moment’s thought for Gora these days. Whether Gora was angry or grieved, it caused no disturbance whatsoever in Binoy’s contentment.

Gora’s heart turned bitter — bitterly hostile toward Paresh-babu’s family and toward the Brahmo Samaj. Carrying within him a tremendous rebellion, he rushed in the direction of Paresh-babu’s house. His intention was to raise there such matters as would sear the bones of this Brahmo household and leave Binoy equally without comfort.

Arriving at Paresh-babu’s house, he was told that none of them were at home — they had all gone to the place of worship. For one brief moment it seemed possible that Binoy had not gone — that perhaps he had already made his way to Gora’s house by now.

He could not stand still. Gora set off toward the temple at his characteristic storm-like pace. Reaching the gate, he saw Binoy following Baradasundari and climbing into their carriage — climbing in shamelessly in the middle of the public road to sit alongside the womenfolk of another family! The fool! This is how one falls into a serpent’s coil — so swiftly! So easily! Then friendship retains no further dignity. Gora strode away like a gale — and in the darkness of the carriage Binoy sat silent, gazing out at the road.

Baradasundari supposed that the preacher’s words were working upon his spirit — and so she said nothing.