29

The Lieutenant-Governor was expected to arrive that day, and so the Magistrate came to court at precisely half-past ten and endeavoured to conclude the proceedings as early as possible.

Satkaribabu took up the cause of the schoolboys, using the occasion to make an effort to rescue his friend as well. Perceiving the lay of the land, he had judged that pleading guilty was the wisest move here. He submitted that boys would always be unruly, called them ignorant and senseless, and pleaded on their behalf for clemency. The Magistrate ordered the students taken to gaol and sentenced them to between five and twenty-five strokes of the cane, varying according to their age and the degree of their offence. Gora had no lawyer. When he attempted, in the course of conducting his own case, to say something about the police’s oppression, the Magistrate rebuked him sharply, silenced him, and for the offence of obstructing the police in the discharge of their duty, sentenced him to one month’s rigorous imprisonment — pronouncing this light sentence as an act of special mercy.

Sudhir and Binoy were present in court. Binoy could not bring himself to look at Gora’s face. He felt as if his breathing were about to cease; he hurried out of the courtroom. Sudhir urged him to return to the dak bungalow and take his bath and meal — he would not hear of it, but walked on along the road through the fields until he sat down under a tree. He told Sudhir, “You go back to the bungalow; I shall come presently.” Sudhir departed.

How long he sat thus he could not tell. When the sun had tilted from overhead towards the west, a carriage drew up and stopped directly before him. Binoy raised his eyes and saw Sudhir and Sucharita alighting from the carriage and coming towards him. Binoy rose quickly to his feet. Sucharita drew near and said in a voice soft with tenderness, “Come, Binoybabu.”

Binoy suddenly became aware that the people on the road were finding amusement in the scene. He got hurriedly into the carriage. No one could find a word to say the entire way back.

Reaching the dak bungalow, Binoy found a battle in progress there. Lalita had dug her heels in and would not, under any circumstances, take part in the Magistrate’s entertainment that evening. Baradasundari was in a desperate predicament. Haranbabu was beside himself with anger at what he regarded as this senseless rebellion from a mere girl like Lalita. He kept repeating that the young people of today had gone utterly wrong — they refused to submit to any discipline! This sort of thing came from associating with all manner of people and indulging in all manner of discussions.

The moment Binoy arrived, Lalita said, “Binoybabu, I beg your forgiveness. I have been greatly at fault towards you; at the time I did not understand at all what you said; it is because we know nothing of the world outside that we misunderstand so greatly. Panubabu says that the rule of the Magistrate in India is the ordinance of Providence — if that be so, then the stirring of the desire to curse that rule with all one’s heart, soul, and voice is also the ordinance of that same Providence.”

Haranbabu said angrily, “Lalita, you —”

Lalita turned away from Haranbabu and said, “Be silent. I am saying nothing to you. Binoybabu, do not yield to anyone’s request. The performance simply cannot take place today, under any circumstances.”

Baradasundari hurriedly spoke over Lalita and said, “Lalita, you are a fine girl, I must say. Will you not let Binoybabu bathe and eat today? It is past half-past one — do you know that? Look at his face — see how drawn and pale he has become.”

Binoy said, “We are here as the guest of that same Magistrate — I cannot take my bath and meal in this house.”

Baradasundari entreated Binoy at great length, trying to reason with him. Seeing that all the young women were silent, she said crossly, “What has come over you all? Suchi, you say something to Binoybabu. We have given our word — guests have all been invited — we must get through this day somehow — what will people think otherwise? I shall never be able to show my face before them again.”

Sucharita sat with her head bowed in silence.

Binoy went off to the steamer moored at the river nearby. This steamer was to set out for Calcutta with its passengers within two hours or so, and would arrive there at around eight o’clock the following morning.

Haranbabu, growing agitated, rose and began to castigate Binoy and Gora. Sucharita quickly got up from her chair, went into the adjoining room, and pulled the door shut behind her with force. After a little while, Lalita pushed the door open and entered the room. She found Sucharita lying face-down on the bed with both hands covering her face.

Lalita bolted the door from within, sat down slowly at Sucharita’s side, and began drawing her fingers gently through the hair on her head. After a long while, when Sucharita had grown calm, Lalita prised her arms away from her face and, bringing her own face close to Sucharita’s, whispered into her ear, “Didi, let us go back to Calcutta from here — we cannot possibly attend the Magistrate’s function today.”

Sucharita made no reply to this for a long while. When Lalita pressed her repeatedly, she sat up on the bed. “How can that be done, dear? I had no desire at all to come here in the first place — but since Father has sent us, I cannot leave without accomplishing what we came to do.”

Lalita said, “Father does not know about all this — had he known, he would never have asked us to stay.”

Sucharita said, “But how are we to know that, dear!”

Lalita said: Didi, can you bear it? Tell me, how will you manage to go? And then, dressed up and adorned, to stand on the stage and recite poetry! My tongue would split and bleed before a single word came out.

Sucharita said, “I know that well enough, dear! But even the torments of hell must be endured. There is no way out now. This is a day I shall never be able to forget for as long as I live.”

Enraged by Sucharita’s helpless submission, Lalita came out of the room. She went to her mother and said, “Ma, are you not going?”

Baradasundari said, “Have you lost your mind? We must leave after nine at night.”

Lalita said, “I am speaking of going to Calcutta.”

Baradasundari. Listen to what the girl says! Just listen!

Lalita said to Sudhir, “Sudhirda, will you stay on here as well?”

Gora’s punishment had unnerved Sudhir, yet he lacked the strength to resist the temptation of displaying his learning before the great sahibs. He murmured something indistinct — it was clear he felt some discomfiture, but he would stay nonetheless.

Baradasundari said, “The commotion has eaten up the afternoon. We cannot afford any more delay. From now until half past five, no one is to rise from their beds — you must rest. Otherwise you will grow tired and look haggard and dreadful by evening.”

So saying, she forcibly ushered everyone into the bedchamber and made them lie down. All fell asleep, save Sucharita, who could not sleep; and in the next room, Lalita sat upright upon her bed.

The steamer sounded its whistle again and again.

The steamer was on the verge of departing; the sailors had made ready to raise the gangway — it was at that moment that Binoy, standing on the upper deck, saw a respectable woman approaching the vessel with rapid steps. Her dress and bearing put him in mind of Lalita, yet he could not at once bring himself to believe it. As she drew closer, all doubt vanished. For a moment he thought Lalita had come to call him back; but had it not been Lalita herself who had stood opposed to accepting the Magistrate’s invitation? And yet Lalita stepped aboard — the sailors drew up the gangway. With an anxious heart, Binoy descended from the upper deck and came to stand before her. Lalita said, “Take me up to the top.”

Binoy said in astonishment, “But the boat is casting off.”

Lalita said, “I know that.”

Without waiting for Binoy, she went up the stairs ahead and climbed to the upper deck. The steamer blew its whistle and cast off.

Binoy seated Lalita in a chair on the first-class deck and looked at her face in silent inquiry.

Lalita said, “I am going to Calcutta — I simply could not remain.”

Binoy asked, “And the others?”

Lalita said, “No one knows yet. I have left a letter — they will know when they read it.”

Binoy was struck dumb by Lalita’s audacity. He began to speak with hesitation, “But —”

Lalita quickly cut him off and said, “The boat has already departed — what use is ‘but’ now! Simply because I was born a woman does not mean I must endure everything in silence — I do not accept that. For us too there is right and wrong, the possible and the impossible. To go to today’s invitation and perform for them would be harder for me than taking my own life.”

Binoy understood that what had happened had happened; there was nothing to be gained by tormenting his mind with judgements of right and wrong after the fact.

After a silence, Lalita said, “You see, I have done a great injustice in my heart to your friend Gourmohan Babu. I do not know why, from the very beginning, the mere sight of him and the sound of his words set my mind against him. He spoke with such force, and you all seemed to go along with everything he said — that used to vex me greatly. It is my nature — if I see someone asserting themselves with force in word or deed, I cannot bear it at all. But Gourmohan Babu’s force is not only directed at others — he applies it equally to himself. That is genuine strength — I have never seen such a man.”

Lalita continued to speak at length in this manner. It was not solely from remorse over Gora that she spoke thus. In truth, a sense of misgiving about what she had done in a fit of impulse kept rising to the surface from within her; a hesitation was gathering strength — that this act might not have been wise; that sitting alone with Binoy on the steamer in this fashion was a source of such profound embarrassment was something she had not anticipated beforehand; but knowing that if her shame showed it would become all the more shameful, she spoke on with all the force of her will. Binoy could not easily find words to speak. On one side lay Gora’s sorrow and humiliation; on the other, his own shame at having come here to take pleasure at the Magistrate’s home; and above all this, the sudden crisis that Lalita’s presence had brought upon him — all of it mingled together and robbed Binoy of speech.

In earlier times, Lalita’s recklessness would have stirred reproach in Binoy’s mind — today, nothing of the sort arose. Indeed, the astonishment that had come over him was tinged with reverence; and to this was added a particular gladness — that among their entire party, only Binoy and Lalita had made even the smallest effort to redress Gora’s humiliation. Binoy would not have to suffer greatly for it, but Lalita would have to endure considerable pain for her actions over a long time to come. And yet Binoy had always known this Lalita to be set against Gora. The more he reflected, the more Binoy’s admiration for her grew — for her courage that heeded no consequences, and for her utter revulsion at injustice. He could not think of how or with what words he could express this admiration. Binoy reflected again and again that Lalita’s contempt for him — her charge that he was spineless and dependent on others’ approval — was entirely just. He could never, by his own bold conduct, so powerfully disregarding the censure and praise of all his kinsmen and friends, express his own convictions as she had done. He acknowledged within himself that he had often, for fear of causing Gora pain, or lest Gora think him weak, failed to follow his own nature; he had often spun elaborate webs of reasoning and tried to deceive himself into believing Gora’s views were his own. Today, acknowledging all this in his heart, he accepted Lalita as greatly superior to himself in the power of independent judgement. He felt shame recalling how many times he had censured Lalita inwardly. He even felt an impulse to beg her forgiveness — but he could not think how to do so. The gentle feminine form of Lalita, illuminated by the fire of her own inner spirit, appeared to Binoy’s eyes today in a glory so resplendent that, in this wondrous encounter with womanhood, Binoy felt his own life to be fulfilled. In that moment, he offered up all his pride, all his pettiness, before this grace-adorned strength.