19

One morning Gora was at his work when Binoy came in without particular purpose and said in a somewhat disconnected manner, “The other day I went with Pareshbabu’s daughters to see the circus.”

Without lifting his pen from the page, Gora said, “I know.”

Binoy asked in surprise, “From whom did you hear it?”

Gora: From Abinash. He was at the circus that same day.

Gora said nothing more and went on writing. That Gora had already heard the news — and through Abinash of all people, who would certainly have missed no opportunity for description and embellishment — caused Binoy, by force of his long-standing sensibilities, to feel a great discomfort within himself. He would have been far happier had the matter of the circus visit not become a subject of public discussion in this manner.

At that moment he recalled that the previous night, lying awake until a late hour, he had been waging an argument in his mind with Lalita. Lalita thought him afraid of Gora — thought that he deferred to Gora in the manner of a small schoolboy deferring to his master. How unjustly can one person misjudge another! Gora and Binoy were of one soul; he did hold a reverence for Gora by virtue of his exceptional nature, but to see it as Lalita had seen it was unjust both to Gora and to Binoy. Binoy was not a minor, and Gora was not his guardian.

Gora continued to write in silence, while the few sharp and pointed questions Lalita had posed came back to Binoy’s mind again and again. He could not easily dismiss them.

Gradually, a spirit of rebellion began to raise its head within Binoy. “What of it that I went to the circus! Who is Abinash, that he should come and discuss that matter with Gora — and why should Gora lend himself to discussing my movements with that worthless fellow? Am I Gora’s prisoner under watch? Must I render an account to Gora of whom I see and where I go? This is a tyrannous imposition upon friendship.”

Binoy’s anger at Gora and Abinash would not have been so great had he not suddenly perceived his own timidity within himself with startling clarity. The very fact that he had found himself obliged to conceal something from Gora, even for a brief moment, made him now — in the theatre of his own mind — attempt to lay the blame upon Gora himself. Had Gora roundly reproached him over the circus visit, that at least would have preserved the equity of friendship, and Binoy might have found some comfort; but this — Gora sitting grave and solemn like a great judge, dismissing Binoy with contemptuous silence — caused Lalita’s barbed words to prick him over and over again.

At this moment Mahim entered the room, hookah in hand. He lifted the damp cloth cover from the box, placed a betel leaf in Binoy’s hand, and said, “My dear Binoy, everything on this side is quite settled — now if only a letter arrives from your paternal uncle, one could rest easy. You have written to him, have you not?”

The urgency regarding the marriage struck Binoy as acutely disagreeable this day, yet he knew that Mahim was in no way to blame — a promise had been given to him. But within the very act of that promise, Binoy now felt a certain abasement. Had not Anandamoyi all but discouraged him? Had he himself not felt no attraction toward this marriage? Then how, in the confusion of a moment, had the matter solidified so quickly? One could not truly say that Gora had pressed him hard. Had Binoy resisted with even a little genuine resolve, Gora would not have insisted further. And yet — upon that very “and yet” Lalita’s barb found its mark and struck home again. It was no single episode in particular, but behind it lay long years of dominance. Out of sheer affection, and from a compliant and gentle nature, Binoy had grown accustomed to enduring Gora’s authority with ease. And for that very reason this relationship of dominance had mounted above friendship and seated itself upon its head. For all these years Binoy had not felt it — but he could no longer deny it. Then must he really marry Shashimukhi?

Binoy said, “No, I have not yet written to my uncle.”

Mahim said, “That is my own oversight. The writing of this letter was not your affair — I shall write it myself. Tell me, what is his full name?”

Binoy said, “Why do you hurry so? The marriage cannot take place in Ashwin or Kartik in any case. There is only the month of Agrahayan — but even that poses a difficulty. At some point in the distant history of our family, some misfortune befell someone in the month of Agrahayan, and ever since, all auspicious ceremonies — marriages and the like — have been forbidden in our lineage during that month.”

Mahim set his hookah against the wall in the corner of the room and said, “Binoy, if you people are going to abide by all these things, then what is the use of education — is it merely to commit passages to memory and perish? This wretched country has precious few auspicious days to begin with, and if every household is to open its own private almanac on top of that, how is any business ever to be conducted?”

Binoy said, “And why do you yourself observe the prohibition on Bhadra and Ashwin?”

Mahim said, “I observe it, do I! Never, not for a single day. What is one to do, my boy — in this country one can manage well enough without believing in God, but if one does not observe Bhadra-Ashwin, Jupiter and Saturn, the tithis and the nakshatras, they will not let you remain in your own house by any means. And yet — even as I say I do not observe them, when the time comes to act and the appointed day is transgressed, the mind grows uneasy — just as the country’s air gives one malaria, so too does it give one this fear; I have not been able to rid myself of it.”

Binoy: The fear of Agrahayan in our family will not pass away either. At the very least, my aunt will on no account consent.

In this way, for the time being, Binoy managed to keep the matter suppressed for that day.

From the tone of Binoy’s words, Gora understood that a hesitation had arisen in Binoy’s mind. For some days now Binoy had been scarcely seen at all. Gora had understood that Binoy had begun visiting Pareshbabu’s house far more frequently than before. And now today, this attempt to evade the marriage proposal gave Gora a sense of unease.

Just as a serpent, once it has begun to swallow its prey, is utterly incapable of releasing it — so too was Gora, one might fairly say, completely incapable of abandoning any resolution he had formed, or of conceding even the smallest part of it. Whenever any resistance or slackening appeared from the other side, his stubbornness only mounted higher. Every faculty of his being now braced itself to hold the vacillating Binoy firmly in place.

Gora set aside his writing, raised his head, and said, “Binoy, now that you have given Dada your word, why do you keep him in uncertainty and cause him needless distress?”

Binoy suddenly burst out with impatience: “Did I give my word — or was my word wrested from me in haste?”

Seeing in Binoy this sudden sign of revolt, Gora grew at once astonished and stern, and said, “Who wrested your word from you?”

Binoy said, “You.”

Gora: I! No more than five or seven words passed between us on this matter — and you call that wresting away your word!

In truth, Binoy had no clear proof to offer — what Gora said was accurate — only a few words had been exchanged, and there had been nothing in them that could properly be called compulsion or insistence — and yet it remained true that Gora had, as it were, plundered Binoy’s consent from him. Accusations that have little outward evidence tend to breed all the greater resentment within a person. And so Binoy said, in a tone of somewhat unreasonable anger, “It does not require many words to take something away.”

Gora rose from the table and said, “Very well then — take back your word. Whether I begged for it or stole it by brigandage, it is no such great and priceless thing.”

In the very next room sat Mahim — Gora called to him in a voice like thunder: “Dada!”

The moment Mahim came hurrying in, Gora said, “Dada, let me tell you plainly from the outset — the marriage between Shashimukhi and Binoy cannot take place. I give it no sanction!”

Mahim: You most certainly did say so. No one but you could have said such a thing. Had it been any other brother, he would have expressed enthusiasm for his niece’s marriage proposal from the very beginning.

Gora: Why did you use me to make the appeal to Binoy?

Mahim: I thought it would serve the purpose — there was no other reason.

Gora said, his face flushing red, “I want nothing to do with any of this. Matchmaking is not my vocation — I have other work to attend to.”

With that, Gora walked out of the room. The bewildered Mahim had not even had time to put a question to Binoy when Binoy too stepped straight out into the street. Mahim retrieved his hookah from the corner of the wall, sat himself down in silence, and began to draw on it.

Gora and Binoy had quarrelled many times before over many long years, but nothing like this sudden and violent eruption had ever occurred between them. At first Binoy stood struck dumb by what he had done. Then, as he made his way home, a sharp pain began to pierce him to the heart. Contemplating how grievous a wound he had inflicted upon Gora in that brief moment, he lost all appetite for food and all inclination for rest. What tormented him above all was the recognition that blaming Gora in this affair had been utterly strange and utterly without reason; he said to himself again and again, “It was wrong — wrong — wrong!”

It was two o’clock in the afternoon, and Anandamoyi had just finished her meal and settled down to her sewing, when Binoy came and sat beside her. She had already learnt something of the morning’s events from Mahim. And from the look on Gora’s face at the midday meal, she had understood that a storm had passed through the house.

As soon as Binoy arrived he said, “Mother, I have done wrong. What I said to Gora this morning about the marriage with Shashimukhi has no justification whatsoever.”

Anandamoyi said, “Let it be, Binoy — when one tries to hold down some pain within the heart, it comes out in just such a manner. It is perhaps for the best. In two days you will have forgotten this quarrel, and Gora will have forgotten it too.”

Binoy: But, Mother — I have come to let you know that I have no objection whatsoever to the marriage with Shashimukhi.

Anandamoyi: My dear child, do not rush to mend a quarrel and fall headlong into a deeper entanglement. Marriage is a thing for all one’s life; a quarrel is over in two days.

Binoy would not be persuaded. He could not yet go with this proposal directly to Gora. He went instead to Mahim and informed him — there was no obstacle to the marriage proposal; the matter would be completed in the month of Magh; as for any reluctance on the part of his uncle, Binoy himself undertook to see that there would be none.

Mahim said, “Let the formal betrothal at least be settled.”

Binoy said, “Very well — but do consult Gora before arranging it.”

Mahim said with some agitation, “Consulting Gora again!”

Binoy said, “No, it cannot be done otherwise.”

Mahim said, “Well, if it cannot be done otherwise, there is nothing more to say — but—”

And with that he took a betel leaf and placed it in his mouth.