Anandamath

Chapter XVI

The woman who entered was almost twenty-five but she did not appear older than Nimai. She entered the room clothed in a dirty cloth tom and knotted together, but it seemed that with her beauty the whole room was lighted. It seemed as if some plant in which the buds were covered with thick foliage had suddenly burst into bloom. It seemed that somewhere a vessel of rose water tightly closed had been broken open and its fragrance dispersed. It seemed that somebody had cast scented incense into dying embers which flamed and became luminous with sweet odour. The lovely woman who had entered the room began searching for her husband rather hesitatingly. At first she could not find him. Then she found Jivananda in the courtyard, his head resting against the trunk of a mango tree, weeping. The beautiful woman approached him slowly and took his hand. It cannot be said that there were no tears in her eyes. God knows that the unshed sea of tears held back in her eyes if allowed to flow would have been enough to flood Jivananda. But she did not allow it to flow. She held Jivananda’s hand in her own and said, “Do not weep. I know your tears are flowing for me. Do not weep for me. As you have chosen to keep me I am happy so to live.”

Jivananda raising his bent head dried his eyes and said to his wife. “Santi, why do you wear this dirty cloth tom and knotted in a hundred places. You are not in need of food and raiment?”

Santi replied — “Your wealth is stored for you. I do not know what to do with money. When you return, when you once more take me back — ”

Jivananda exclaimed, “Take you back — Santi! Have I abandoned you?”

Santi — “No, you have not abandoned me. I mean when your vow is completed, when you are able once more to love me — ”

Before Santi could finish her words Jivananda locking Santi in a tight embrace resting his head on her shoulders remained silent for a long time. At last sighing he exclaimed — “Why did I see you?”

Santi —“Why did you see me? You have broken your vow!”

Jivananda — “Let it be broken, I can always do penance for that. I am not anxious on that account. But having seen you I cannot return. For this I told Nimai that I should not see you — that seeing you I could not return. On one side religion, wealth, desire, liberation, the entire world — and again my vow, the sacrificial fire, religious practices, all these and on the other — you. I cannot at all times realise if these were balanced which scale would be the weightier. My country is after all peaceful — what shall I do with it? If I could but get a fraction of an acre of land, with you I could build a heaven on it. What use is the country to me? As to the sorrows of my countrymen — one who has abandoned a wife like you, no man can be more sorrowful than him? One who has seen you clothed in tom clothes knotted in a hundred places, who can be poorer than him? You are my helpmate in my religion. He who has abandoned such a support, what to him is the true religion? For what religion do I wander from place to place, from forest to forest my gun on my shoulder killing people? Why should I thus burden myself with sins? I do not know if the Santans will ever possess the world. But you are my possession. You are greater than the world to me, you are my heaven. Come home with me. I shall return no more.”

For a while Santi could give no reply. And then she said, “Fie! You are a hero. My greatest happiness in the world is that I am the wife of a hero. For a worthless woman will you abandon the path of the hero? Do not love me. I do not want that happiness. But do not ever forsake your faith — the path of the hero. Only tell me one thing before you leave, what penance must you perform for breaking your vow.”

Jivananda replied. “Penance? Gifts in charity, fast, a fine of twelve kahan of cowries.”

Santi smiled a little and said. “I know what the penance is. Is it the same penance for one as for a hundred failings?”

Jivananda asked in sadness and surprise — “Why these words?”

Santi. — “I have one favour to ask. Before meeting me again do not perform any penance.”

Jivananda then replied laughingly, “You may rest assured about that. Without seeing you once more I shall not die. There is no hurry about dying. I shall not stay here any more. But I have not yet feasted my eyes enough on your beauty. One day undoubtedly I shall see you till my heart is full. One day surely our desires will be fulfilled. I am now leaving. Keep one request of mine, abandon these clothes and go and live in my paternal home.”

Santi asked, “Where will you go now?” Jivananda — “I shall now go to our math in search of the Brahmachari. The manner in which he went into the city has caused me some anxiety. If I do not find him in the temple, I must go to the city.”