An extraordinary girl

Long Exile from the Light

Thus I was compelled to leave the Ashram, which throughout my childhood represented heaven, and returned to the world which was nothing short of hell as I discovered by and by. Life in Calcutta could not but appear so even to a girl of my age —particularly to someone of my nature — compared to the life I had enjoyed in Pondicherry.

My mother went like a conqueror among her kindred elements in society and in her own household-kingdom of ease and comfort. I withdrew into my shell, but soon found a close friend in one of my young aunties. She was very beautiful indeed and we became very fond of each other and passed our time delightfully talking on endless topics. Being poor, her beauty remained like

A violet by a mossy stone,
Half hidden from the eye.

One day, however, the violet caught the eye of a suitor, a suitor who held a high position in Government service, and was eligible in every respect, except that he was the ugliest of men. He simply lost his head over her. To the father of my friend ugliness was of little consequence so long as he could dispose of the heavy burden of a daughter without paying any dowry. He declared, "What shall I do with beauty? Is beauty something that can be washed and eaten every day for sustenance?" — as goes the Bengali saying. So the paragon of beauty was sacrificed for the sake of convenience on the altar of ugliness. But the sacrifice was avenged. She made her husband work like a slave and, though she bore him children, gave him not an iota of love. Whenever I protested, she retorted with her stock answer: "I never wanted to marry such an ugly man!" But the devoted husband did everything he could to satisfy a wife who refused to be pleased. In the end Fate exacted from her a terrible price: she died of cancer.

This unhappy story was one of the early experiences I had of life in the world outside the Ashram.

After the marriage of this aunt and friend, I was again lonely and withdrew into my shell, while my mother continued to thrive on social life in which I had to participate. Being well-off, we ourselves often entertained our guests lavishly. In one such tea-party, distinguished persons had been invited. While enjoying the delectable dishes, they regaled themselves with gossip of all kinds, among which came gossip about the Ashram. They could not find a better topic. They vented all their accumulated resentment: each one vied with the other and excelled in the art of calumny, though the Ashram had done nothing to the world or to them to deserve it. But I suppose the story about me and other rumours must have reached them. At that time the Ashram and the Mother and Sri Aurobindo were anathema to Calcutta's high society, perhaps because Sahana aunty and my uncle, two renowned and much loved figures in Calcutta's elite music-world, had abandoned Calcutta for the Ashram. As a young girl of thirteen or so in such a high-browed assembly, I was quietly listening to their scurrilous conversation.

A report of all this and what happened next was received in the Ashram. What follows is an account by Nirod-da:

I read out the report to the Mother and Sri Aurobindo, while the other attendants were also present:

The topic of the Ashram came up. Comments and criticisms started flying. Even the Mother and Sri Aurobindo were not spared. The child was listening quietly, but when somebody seemed to overstep the limit of decency, she could stand it no longer. In a firm tone she said: 'Look here. If you speak one word more against my Gurus, I'll give you such a slap that you will roll on the floor.' A bolt from the blue! Everybody was stunned. Her mother left the room in shame and anger. An uncle started looking at the ceiling.

The Mother and Sri Aurobindo looked pleased at this report. Then the Mother left.

Sri Aurobindo commented, "What she has done is remarkable for her age. She is an extraordinary girl. Along with strength of character she has developed an extraordinary intelligence. When she used to write to us, she would make reflections about people and the world in general which were beyond even a woman of fifty."

I added, "There are some stories which show her power of judgment as well as of detachment. She had a dancing-master. Her parents wanted to dismiss him because he was found to have a bad character. She stood against it saying that character had nothing to do with teaching. But against all her opposition, he was sent away. And when he left, she was not at all touched, although she had fought so much on his behalf. There is also the incident of the death of her pet dog, whom she had loved intensely. The death made no difference to her. She remained perfectly calm as if nothing serious had happened. This set her mother thinking that she had not really loved the dog and, who knows, she might not love her too. One day she might leave her for the Ashram."

Sri Aurobindo said, "Her parents had found out that it would be difficult to bend her to their will."

I repeated what people were saying, "She is quite happy where she is at present." Sri Aurobindo replied, "How do they make it out? She wrote to us she was very unhappy."

Then I asked him why she had to go away. He answered that there was a part in her vital being which wanted to have experience of the world. I understood then that there was an occult reason for her going away.?