Anandamath

Chapter I

At a very early age in her childhood Santi lost her mother. Of the influences which built up Santi’s character this was the chief. Her father was a Brahmin teacher. In his home there were no other women.

Thus it happened, when Santi’s father used to teach in his Tol, Santi used to sit beside him. Some of the students resided in the Tol. At other times Santi would sit beside them and play. She would climb on their laps or shoulders. They too would pet her.

The first result of spending her childhood amongst men, was that Santi did not learn to dress as a girl or if she did, she left off dressing thus. She wore her cloth like a boy and if any one dressed her as a girl she took off her cloth and tucked it up like boys. The students of the Tol did not their hair in a girlish knot at the back of their head. Santi too did not tie her hair thus — and for sooth, who was to do it for her? With a wooden comb the students of the Tol combed her hair which fell in locks and ringlets on her back and shoulders, on her arms and cheek. The students used to adorn their faces with sacred marks and besmear themselves with sandal wood paste. Santi too would do likewise. As she was not allowed to wear the sacred thread like them she would cry bitterly. But at the time of offering morning and evening devotions she would sit with them and imitate their every action. In the absence of their teacher the pupils would with a few obscene Sanskrit quotation make up one or two indecent stories. These Santi learnt like a parrot. Like a parrot she did not know their meaning.

The second result was, that, as soon as Santi began to grow up, whatever the students learnt Santi too began to learn. She knew not a word of grammar, but she learnt by heart with their commentaries the slokas (verses) of Bhatti, Raghu, Kumar, Naishad. Seeing this Santi’s father saying to himself, “Let the inevitable happen,” started heron Mugdhabodh (grammar). Santi learnt very quickly. Her father was surprised. With the grammar he taught her some books of literature. After that all was lost in confusion. Santi’s father died.

Then Santi became homeless. The Tol wound up. The students left. But they loved Santi. They could not desert her. One of them in pity took her to his home. It is he who afterwards entered the society of Santans as Jivananda. We shall therefore call him Jivananda.

At that time Jivananda’s parents were alive. Jivananda properly introduced the girl to them. His parents asked “Who is to take the responsibility of another’s daughter?” Jivananda replied, “I have brought her. I shall bear her responsibility.” Jivananda’s parents said, “It is well.” Jivananda was unmarried, Santi was of marriageable age. So Jivananda married her.

After the marriage everyone started regretting the step. They all understood that the action had not been wise. Santi would not dress like a girl. She would not tie her hair like a girl, she would not remain indoors. She would join the young boys of the locality and play with them. Near Jivananda’s house there was a forest. Santi would enter the forest alone and search for peacocks, deer and strange flowers and fruits. Her father and mother-in-law at first told her not to go, then scolded her, then beat her and at last kept her locked in a room. These hindrances annoyed Santi very much. One day finding the door open, without telling any one Santi left the house and went away.

Going to the forest, she picked flowers and dyed her clothes in saffron and dressed herself as a young Sannyasin. At that time throughout Bengal there were bands of wandering Sannyasins. Santi begged her bread from door to door and reached the road to the sacred city of Jagannath. Soon on that road appeared a band of Sannyasins. Santi joined this band.

The Sannyasins of those times were not like the present day Sannyasins. They were organised, learned, strong, trained in the art of warfare, and possessors of other good qualities and accomplishments. In a way they were rebels who used to rob the King of his revenue. When they saw strong well-built young boys they kidnapped them. They trained them and initiated them as one of their band. Thus they were called kidnappers.

Santi as a young Sannyasin entered one of these bands. At first seeing her delicate body they were not willing to take her. But when they saw her keeness, her cleverness and ability in work they very willingly took her as one of themselves. Santi remaining with them learnt gymnastics and was trained in the use of all weapons of war, thus becoming hardy. With them she traversed many lands, saw many fights and learnt the art of war.

Soon the unmistakable signs of her budding womanhood become apparent. Many of the Sannyasins came to know that this disguised boy was really a girl. But the Sannyasins were mostly true celibates. No body referred to the fact.

Amongst the Sannyasins there were many scholars. When they saw that Santi had a fair knowledge of Sanskrit a scholarly Sannyasin started teaching her. I have already said that most of the Sannyasins were true celibates, but not all. This scholar certainly was not. Or seeing Santi’s young budding beauty he was charmed and distressed by sensual urges. He started to teach her literature full of obscene details, and read to her commentaries of the same nature. This did not harm Santi. Rather it benifitted her. Santi was not acquainted with maiden modesty. Now she became subject to modesty natural to womanhood. To crown her manly firmness the clear lustre of the radiance of womanhood came and still further enhanced her virtues. Santi gave up her studies.

As a hunter pursues a deer, wherever Santi’s teacher saw Santi he began to pursue her. But through her gymnastic training she had acquired strength which even a man could envy. As soon as her teacher approached her she would greet him with sounding blows and these blows were by no means of a mean order. One day finding Santi in a lonely place the Sannyasin caught told of Santi’s hand in such a strong grip that Santi could not release it with her best efforts. But unluckily for the Sannyasin this was Santi’s left hand. With her right hand Santi struck such a fierce blow on the Sannyasin’s forehead that he fell fainting to the ground. Santi left the band of Sannyasins and fled.

Santi was fearless. Alone she started in search of her homeland. Because of her courage and the strength of her arms she was able to proceed without much hindrance. Begging her bread or sustaining herself on wild fruits and gaining victory in many a fight Santi reached the home of her father-in-law. She found that her father-in-law had died. But her mother-in-law did not receive her into the house for fear of being outcasted. Santi left her home.

Jivananda was at home. He followed Santi and stopping her on the way asked her, “Why did you leave my house? Where have you been so long?” Santi told the truth. Jivananda knew how to distinguish between truth and falsehood. He believed Santi.

The charmed arrow which is said to have been framed from the light of the glamourous glance full of the sweet desire of the Apsaras is not usually wasted by Cupid on a pair already united in wed-lock. Even on full moon night the British light the streets with gas; Bengalis pour oil on a head already well-oiled, and even apart from such unnecessary actions of human beings, in nature, we see that sometimes the moon remains shining in the sky even after sunrise: the God Indra sends rain even over the ocean. In the chest which is already filled to overflowing, the God of wealth carries his riches, the God of Death carries away the remaining one from the man whose home he has already emptied. Only the God of love is more wise. Where the marriage tie has already united a pair, he does not waste his labour. Leaving the whole responsibility to Prajapati, the presiding deity over births, he goes in search of those whose crimson heart’s blood he can drink. But perhaps today Cupid was without any occupation. Suddenly he wasted two of his flowery arrows. One struck Jivananda’s heart, and the other striking the heart of Santi made her for the first time realise that it was a woman’s heart — a thing of extreme tenderness. Like a bud wetted by the first drops of rain freed from the early clouds, Santi suddenly flowered into womanhood and with delighted eyes gazed at Jivananda. Jivananda said, “I will not forsake you, as long as I do not return stand here.”

Santi replied — “Will you really come back?”

Jivananda without replying, without looking on either side, in the shade of that grove of coconut trees by the way side kissed Santi and thinking he had drunk nectar left the spot.

Having explained things to his mother, Jivananda took leave of his mother and returned. His sister Nimai had recently been married to a resident of Bhairabipur. Between Jivananda and his brother-in- law a bond of affection had grown. Jivananda went to Bhairabipur taking Santi with him.

His brother-in-law gave Jivananda some land. Jivananda built a cottage on it. Jivananda lived there happily with Santi. Living constantly in the company of her husband the masculine hardness of Santi s character gradually disappeared or remained out of sight. The grace of womanhood flowered anew day by day in Santi. Like a joyous dream their lives were passed. But suddenly that joyous dream was Jivananda under the influence of Satyananda accepting the of the Santan religion left Santi and went away. Their first meeting after Jivananda had left Santi was effected by the trick of Nimai. It is this which has been described in the preceding chapter.