56

When Baradasundari summoned Haranbabu and told him everything, he sat for a while in grave silence and then said, “In this matter it would be proper to speak with Lalita first.”

When Lalita arrived, Haranbabu raised the pitch of his solemnity to its highest register and said, “Look, Lalita, a moment of great responsibility has come upon your life. On one side stands your faith, on the other your inclination — between these two you must choose your path.”

Having said this, Haranbabu paused and fixed his gaze upon Lalita’s face. Haranbabu knew that before this gaze, ablaze with the fire of righteousness, timidity trembled and deceit was reduced to ash — this spiritually radiant eye of his was one of the Brahmo Samaj’s most prized possessions.

Lalita said nothing; she remained silent.

Haranbabu said, “You have perhaps heard that Binoy-babu, in consideration of your situation or for whatever reason, has at last agreed to take initiation into our faith.”

Lalita had not heard this news before; having heard it, she did not betray what feeling arose within her — her two eyes blazed bright, and she sat perfectly still as a stone image.

Haranbabu said, “Pareshbabu has no doubt been very pleased by this compliance of Binoy’s. But whether there is any genuine cause for pleasure in it — that you yourself must determine. Therefore today I appeal to you in the name of the Brahmo Samaj: set aside your frenzied inclination, and keeping your gaze fixed solely upon faith, ask your own heart this question — is there any true reason to be pleased?

Lalita remained silent still. Haranbabu felt that great progress was being made. With redoubled enthusiasm he said, “Initiation! Must I tell you today what a sacred moment initiation is in a life! And to defile that very initiation! Are we to give way to falsehood in the Brahmo Samaj — to welcome and embrace hypocrisy — out of considerations of comfort, convenience, or the pull of attachment! Tell me, Lalita, will the history of this degradation of the Brahmo Samaj be bound up with your life for all time?”

Still Lalita said nothing; she gripped the arm of the chair with clenched fist and sat rigidly. Haranbabu said, “I have seen many times how relentlessly weakness assails a person through the breach of attachment, and I know as well how one must forgive human frailty — but that weakness which strikes not merely at one’s own life but strikes at the very foundation of the refuge of hundreds of thousands of souls — you tell me, Lalita, can one forgive it for even a single moment? Has God given us the right to forgive that?”

Lalita rose from her chair and said, “No, no, Panu-babu, you shall not forgive. Attacking has become the habit of the whole world on your account — your forgiveness would perhaps be utterly unbearable to everyone.”

Having said this, Lalita left the room.

Baradasundari grew greatly agitated at Haranbabu’s words. She could not possibly let Binoy go at this point. After much futile supplication before Haranbabu, she finally dismissed him in anger. Her difficulty was this: she could not win Pareshbabu to her side, nor could she win Haranbabu. That such an unimaginable situation could arise was something no one could ever have conceived. The time had come for Baradasundari to revise her opinion of Haranbabu once again.

So long as Binoy had viewed the matter of taking initiation in a vague, hazy fashion, he had been declaring his resolve with considerable force. But when he saw that to this end he would have to apply to the Brahmo Samaj and that Haranbabu would be consulted in the matter, the terror of this naked public exposure threw him into utter confusion. He could not think of where to go or with whom to consult — indeed, even going to Anandamayi had become impossible for him. Nor did he have the strength to wander about the streets. And so he went back to his solitary lodgings and lay down upon the plank-bed in the upper room.

Evening was drawing near. He was thinking to himself that when the servant came to bring a lamp to the dark room he would send it away — when just then Binoy heard a call from below: “Binoy-babu! Binoy-babu!”

Binoy felt as though he had been delivered. He had found water in the desert to slake his thirst. At this moment none other than Satish could have brought him any comfort. Binoy’s listlessness fled. Calling out “What is it, brother Satish?” he sprang from his bed and, not stopping even to put on his shoes, hurried rapidly down the stairs.

He saw that in his small courtyard, directly before the stairs, Satish was standing together with Baradasundari. The same predicament again, the same struggle! In hasty confusion Binoy led Satish and Baradasundari up to the room above.

Baradasundari said to Satish, “Satish, go and sit out on the veranda for a bit.”

Pained by this joyless sentence of banishment upon Satish, Binoy brought out several picture-books for him, lit a lamp in the adjoining room, and settled him there.

When Baradasundari said, “Binoy, you are not acquainted with anyone in the Brahmo Samaj — write me a letter in your own hand, and tomorrow morning I shall go myself and give it to the Secretary, and make all the arrangements, so that your initiation may take place this Sunday. You will not need to trouble yourself about anything” — Binoy found himself unable to say a single word. He wrote a letter according to her direction and placed it in Baradasundari’s hands. Whatever it was, he had needed to be carried out in some such way that there remained absolutely no means of turning back or hesitating.

Baradasundari also broached, in passing, the matter of his marriage to Lalita.

After Baradasundari had left, a deep sense of repugnance began to overwhelm Binoy’s mind. Even the memory of Lalita began to sound somewhat discordant within him. It seemed to him as though there was some connection between Baradasundari’s unseemly haste and Lalita herself. Along with the diminishing of his own self-respect, his respect for everyone else seemed to ebb away as well.

Baradasundari, upon returning home, thought to herself that she would make Lalita happy this very day. She had been certain that Lalita loved Binoy. It was for this very reason that when trouble had arisen in society over their marriage, she had held everyone else to blame — everyone except herself. For some days she had more or less ceased speaking with Lalita. And so now that a resolution had been reached — a resolution that was in large measure owing to her own efforts — she was eager to reveal this distinction before Lalita and, on that account, to make peace with her. Lalita’s father had as good as ruined everything. Lalita herself had not been able to bring Binoy round. Nor had any help been forthcoming from Panu-babu. It was Baradasundari, alone, who had cut through every knot. Yes indeed — what one woman can accomplish, five men together cannot.

On returning home Baradasundari was told that Lalita had retired early that evening, as she was not feeling very well. She smiled inwardly and said to herself, “I am about to restore her health.”

Carrying a lamp into the darkened bedchamber, she found that Lalita had not yet gone to bed; she was lying back in an armchair.

Lalita sat up at once and asked, “Mother, where have you been?”

There was a sharpness in her voice. She had heard that her mother had taken Satish and gone to Binoy’s lodgings.

Baradasundari said, “I went to Binoy’s place.”

“Why?”

Why! Baradasundari felt a flicker of irritation within. “Lalita thinks I am doing nothing but working against her interests! Ungrateful child!”

Baradasundari said, “See here — that is why.” And she spread Binoy’s letter before Lalita’s eyes. Reading the letter, the colour rose in Lalita’s face. Baradasundari, somewhat embellishing the account in order to proclaim her own achievement, made it known that this letter had not been easy to extract from Binoy’s hand. She could say with pride that this was a feat beyond the power of any other person living.

Lalita covered her face with both hands and sank back in her chair. Baradasundari thought that Lalita was ashamed to display so violent a surge of emotion in her presence. She left the room.

The next morning, when she went to take the letter to the Brahmo Samaj, she found that someone had torn it to pieces.