Rabindranath Tagore, "Master Mashai" (1907/ Translated 1918) (Short Story)
Tags: Student/teacher bonds, betrayal, the desire to study in England, City vs. Country, Calcutta, possible Homoeroticism/Queer theme
MASTER MASHAI
I
Adhar Babu lives upon the interest of the capital left him by his
father. Only the brokers, negotiating loans, come to his drawing room
and smoke the silver-chased hookah, and the clerks from the attorney's
office discuss the terms of some mortgage or the amount of the stamp
fees. He is so careful with his money that even the most dogged efforts
of the boys from the local football club fail to make any impression on
his pocket.
At the time this story opens a new guest came into his household. After
a long period of despair, his wife, Nanibala, bore him a son.
The child resembled his mother,--large eyes, well-formed nose, and fair
complexion. Ratikanta, Adharlal's protégé, gave verdict,--"He is worthy
of this noble house." They named him Venugopal.
Never before had Adharlal's wife expressed any opinion differing from
her husband's on household expenses. There had been a hot discussion now
and then about the propriety of some necessary item and up to this time
she had merely acknowledged defeat with silent contempt. But now
Adharlal could no longer maintain his supremacy. He had to give way
little by little when things for his son were in question.
II
As Venugopal grew up, his father gradually became accustomed to spending
money on him. He obtained an old teacher, who had a considerable repute
for his learning and also for his success in dragging impassable boys
through their examinations. But such a training does not lead to the
cultivation of amiability. This man tried his best to win the boy's
heart, but the little that was left in him of the natural milk of human
kindness had turned sour, and the child repulsed his advances from the
very beginning. The mother, in consequence, objected to him strongly,
and complained that the very sight of him made her boy ill. So the
teacher left.
Just then, Haralal made his appearance with a dirty dress and a torn
pair of old canvas shoes. Haralal's mother, who was a widow, had kept
him with great difficulty at a District school out of the scanty
earnings which she made by cooking in strange houses and husking rice.
He managed to pass the Matriculation and determined to go to College. As
a result of his half-starved condition, his pinched face tapered to a
point in an unnatural manner,--like Cape Comorin in the map of India;
and the only broad portion of it was his forehead, which resembled the
ranges of the Himalayas.
The servant asked Haralal what he wanted, and he answered timidly that
he wished to see the master.
The servant answered sharply: "You can't see him." Haralal was
hesitating, at a loss what to do next, when Venugopal, who had finished
his game in the garden, suddenly came to the door. The servant shouted
at Haralal: "Get away." Quite unaccountably Venugopal grew excited and
cried: "No, he shan't get away." And he dragged the stranger to his
father.
Adharlal had just risen from his mid-day sleep and was sitting quietly
on the upper verandah in his cane chair, rocking his legs. Ratikanta was
enjoying his hookah, seated in a chair next to him. He asked Haralal how
far he had got in his reading. The young man bent his head and answered
that he had passed the Matriculation. Ratikanta looked stern and
expressed surprise that he should be so backward for his age. Haralal
kept silence. It was Ratikanta's special pleasure to torture his
patron's dependants, whether actual or potential.
Suddenly it struck Adharlal that he would be able to employ this youth
as a tutor for his son on next to nothing. He agreed, there and then, to
take him at a salary of five rupees a month with board and lodging free.
III
This time the post of tutor remained occupied longer than before. From
the very beginning of their acquaintance Haralal and his pupil became
great friends. Never before did Haralal have such an opportunity of
loving any young human creature. His mother had been so poor and
dependent, that he had never had the privilege of playing with the
children where she was employed at work. He had not hitherto suspected
the hidden stores of love which lay all the while accumulating in his
own heart.
Venu, also, was glad to find a companion in Haralal. He was the only boy
in the house. His two younger sisters were looked down upon, as unworthy
of being his playmates. So his new tutor became his only companion,
patiently bearing the undivided weight of the tyranny of his child
friend.
IV
Venu was now eleven. Haralal had passed his Intermediate, winning a
scholarship. He was working hard for his B.A. degree. After College
lectures were over, he would take Venu out into the public park and tell
him stories about the heroes from Greek History and Victor Hugo's
romances. The child used to get quite impatient to run to Haralal, after
school hours, in spite of his mother's attempts to keep him by her side.
This displeased Nanibala. She thought that it was a deep-laid plot of
Haralal's to captivate her boy, in order to prolong his own appointment.
One day she talked to him from behind the purdah: "It is your duty to
teach my son only for an hour or two in the morning and evening. But why
are you always with him? The child has nearly forgotten his own parents.
You must understand that a man of your position is no fit companion for
a boy belonging to this house."
Haralal's voice choked a little as he answered that for the future he
would merely be Venu's teacher and would keep away from him at other
times.
It was Haralal's usual practice to begin his College study early before
dawn. The child would come to him directly after he had washed himself.
There was a small pool in the garden and they used to feed the fish in
it with puffed rice. Venu was also engaged in building a miniature
garden-house, at the corner of the garden, with its liliputian gates and
hedges and gravel paths. When the sun became too hot they would go back
into the house, and Venu would have his morning lesson from Haralal.
On the day in question Venu had risen earlier than usual, because he
wished to hear the end of the story which Haralal had begun the evening
before. But he found his teacher absent. When asked about him, the
door-servant said that he had gone out. At lesson time Venu remained
unnaturally quiet. He never even asked Haralal why he had gone out, but
went on mechanically with his lessons. When the child was with his
mother taking his breakfast, she asked him what had happened to make him
so gloomy, and why he was not eating his food. Venu gave no answer.
After his meal his mother caressed him and questioned him repeatedly.
Venu burst out crying and said,--"Master Mashai." His mother asked
Venu,--"What about Master Mashai?" But Venu found it difficult to name
the offence which his teacher had committed.
His mother said to Venu: "Has your Master Mashai been saying anything to
you against me?"
Venu could not understand the question and went away.
V
There was a theft in Adhar Babu's house. The police were called in to
investigate. Even Haralal's trunks were searched. Ratikanta said with
meaning: "The man who steals anything, does not keep his thefts in his
own box."
Adharlal called his son's tutor and said to him: "It will not be
convenient for me to keep any of you in my own house. From to-day you
will have to take up your quarters outside, only coming in to teach my
son at the proper time."
Ratikanta said sagely, drawing at his hookah: "That is a good
proposal,--good for both parties."
Haralal did not utter a word, but he sent a letter saying that it would
be no longer possible for him to remain as tutor to Venu.
When Venu came back from school, he found his tutor's room empty. Even
that broken steel trunk of his was absent. The rope was stretched across
the corner, but there were no clothes or towel hanging on it. Only on
the table, which formerly was strewn with books and papers, stood a bowl
containing some gold-fish with a label on which was written the word
"Venu" in Haralal's hand-writing. The boy ran up at once to his father
and asked him what had happened. His father told him that Haralal had
resigned his post. Venu went to his room and flung himself down and
began to cry. Adharlal did not know what to do with him.
The next day, when Haralal was sitting on his wooden bedstead in the
Hostel, debating with himself whether he should attend his college
lectures, suddenly he saw Adhar Babu's servant coming into his room
followed by Venu. Venu at once ran up to him and threw his arms round
his neck asking him to come back to the house.
Haralal could not explain why it was absolutely impossible for him to go
back, but the memory of those clinging arms and that pathetic request
used to choke his breath with emotion long after.
VI
Haralal found out, after this, that his mind was in an unsettled state,
and that he had but a small chance of winning the scholarship, even if
he could pass the examination. At the same time, he knew that, without
the scholarship, he could not continue his studies. So he tried to get
employment in some office.
Fortunately for him, an English Manager of a big merchant firm took a
fancy to him at first sight. After only a brief exchange of words the
Manager asked him if he had any experience, and could he bring any
testimonial. Haralal could only answer "No"; nevertheless a post was
offered him of twenty rupees a month and fifteen rupees were allowed him
in advance to help him to come properly dressed to the office.
The Manager made Haralal work extremely hard. He had to stay on after
office hours and sometimes go to his master's house late in the evening.
But, in this way, he learnt his work quicker than others, and his fellow
clerks became jealous of him and tried to injure him, but without
effect. He rented a small house in a narrow lane and brought his mother
to live with him as soon as his salary was raised to forty rupees a
month. Thus happiness came back to his mother after weary years of
waiting.
Haralal's mother used to express a desire to see Venugopal, of whom she
had heard so much. She wished to prepare some dishes with her own hand
and to ask him to come just once to dine with her son. Haralal avoided
the subject by saying that his house was not big enough to invite him
for that purpose.
VII
The news reached Haralal that Venu's mother had died. He could not wait
a moment, but went at once to Adharlal's house to see Venu. After that
they began to see each other frequently.
But times had changed. Venu, stroking his budding moustache, had grown
quite a young man of fashion. Friends, befitting his present condition,
were numerous. That old dilapidated study chair and ink-stained desk had
vanished, and the room now seemed to be bursting with pride at its new
acquisitions,--its looking-glasses, oleographs, and other furniture.
Venu had entered college, but showed no haste in crossing the boundary
of the Intermediate examination.
Haralal remembered his mother's request to invite Venu to dinner. After
great hesitation, he did so. Venugopal, with his handsome face, at once
won the mother's heart. But as soon as ever the meal was over he became
impatient to go, and looking at his gold watch he explained that he had
pressing engagements elsewhere. Then he jumped into his carriage, which
was waiting at the door, and drove away. Haralal with a sigh said to
himself that he would never invite him again.
VIII
One day, on returning from office, Haralal noticed the presence of a man
in the dark room on the ground floor of his house. Possibly he would
have passed him by, had not the heavy scent of some foreign perfume
attracted his attention. Haralal asked who was there, and the answer
came:
"It is I, Master Mashai."
"What is the matter, Venu?" said Haralal. "When did you arrive?"
"I came hours ago," said Venu. "I did not know that you returned so
late."
They went upstairs together and Haralal lighted the lamp and asked Venu
whether all was well. Venu replied that his college classes were
becoming a fearful bore, and his father did not realize how dreadfully
hard it was for him to go on in the same class, year after year, with
students much younger than himself. Haralal asked him what he wished to
do. Venu then told him that he wanted to go to England and become a
barrister. He gave an instance of a student, much less advanced than
himself, who was getting ready to go. Haralal asked him if he had
received his father's permission. Venu replied that his father would not
hear a word of it until he had passed the Intermediate, and that was an
impossibility in his present frame of mind. Haralal suggested that he
himself should go and try to talk over his father.
"No," said Venu, "I can never allow that!"
Haralal asked Venu to stay for dinner and while they were waiting he
gently placed his hand on Venu's shoulder and said:
"Venu, you should not quarrel with your father, or leave home."
Venu jumped up angrily and said that if he was not welcome, he could go
elsewhere. Haralal caught him by the hand and implored him not to go
away without taking his food. But Venu snatched away his hand and was
just leaving the room when Haralal's mother brought the food in on a
tray. On seeing Venu about to leave she pressed him to remain and he did
so with bad grace.
While he was eating the sound of a carriage stopping at the door was
heard. First a servant entered the room with creaking shoes and then
Adhar Babu himself. Venu's face became pale. The mother left the room as
soon as she saw strangers enter. Adhar Babu called out to Haralal in a
voice thick with anger:
"Ratikanta gave me full warning, but I could not believe that you had
such devilish cunning hidden in you. So, you think you're going to live
upon Venu? This is sheer kidnapping, and I shall prosecute you in the
Police Court."
Venu silently followed his father and went out of the house.
IX
The firm to which Haralal belonged began to buy up large quantities of
rice and dhal from the country districts. To pay for this, Haralal had
to take the cash every Saturday morning by the early train and disburse
it. There were special centres where the brokers and middlemen would
come with their receipts and accounts for settlement. Some discussion
had taken place in the office about Haralal being entrusted with this
work, without any security, but the Manager undertook all the
responsibility and said that a security was not needed. This special
work used to go on from the middle of December to the middle of April.
Haralal would get back from it very late at night.
One day, after his return, he was told by his mother that Venu had
called and that she had persuaded him to take his dinner at their house.
This happened more than once. The mother said that it was because Venu
missed his own mother, and the tears came into her eyes as she spoke
about it.
One day Venu waited for Haralal to return and had a long talk with him.
"Master Mashai!" he said. "Father has become so cantankerous of late
that I cannot live with him any longer. And, besides, I know that he is
getting ready to marry again. Ratikanta is seeking a suitable match, and
they are always conspiring about it. There used to be a time when my
father would get anxious, if I were absent from home even for a few
hours. Now, if I am away for more than a week, he takes no
notice,--indeed he is greatly relieved. If this marriage takes place, I
feel that I cannot live in the house any longer. You must show me a way
out of this. I want to become independent."
Haralal felt deeply pained, but he did not know how to help his former
pupil. Venu said that he was determined to go to England and become a
barrister. Somehow or other he must get the passage money out of his
father: he could borrow it on a note of hand and his father would have
to pay when the creditors filed a suit. With this borrowed money he
would get away, and when he was in England his father was certain to
remit his expenses.
"But who is there," Haralal asked, "who would advance you the money?"
"You!" said Venu.
"I!" exclaimed Haralal in amazement.
"Yes," said Venu, "I've seen the servant bringing heaps of money here in
bags."
"The servant and the money belong to someone else."
Haralal explained why the money came to his house at night, like birds
to their nest, to be scattered next morning.
"But can't the Manager advance the sum?" Venu asked.
"He may do so," said Haralal, "if your father stands security."
The discussion ended at this point.
X
One Friday night a carriage and pair stopped before Haralal's lodging
house. When Venu was announced Haralal was counting money in his
bedroom, seated on the floor. Venu entered the room dressed in a strange
manner. He had discarded his Bengali dress and was wearing a Parsee coat
and trousers and had a cap on his head. Rings were prominent on almost
all the fingers of both hands, and a thick gold chain was hanging round
his neck: there was a gold-watch in his pocket, and diamond studs could
be seen peeping from his shirt sleeves. Haralal at once asked him what
was the matter and why he was wearing that dress.
"My father's marriage," said Venu, "comes off to-morrow. He tried hard
to keep it from me, but I found it out. I asked him to allow me to go to
our garden-house at Barrackpur for a few days, and he was only too glad
to get rid of me so easily. I am going there, and I wish to God I had
never to come back."
Haralal looked pointedly at the rings on his fingers. Venu explained
that they had belonged to his mother. Haralal then asked him if he had
already had his dinner. He answered, "Yes, haven't you had yours?"
"No," said Haralal, "I cannot leave this room until I have all the money
safely locked up in this iron chest."
"Go and take your dinner," said Venu, "while I keep guard here: your
mother will be waiting for you."
For a moment Haralal hesitated, and then he went out and had his dinner.
In a short time he came back with his mother and the three of them sat
among the bags of money talking together. When it was about midnight,
Venu took out his watch and looked at it and jumped up saying that he
would miss his train. Then he asked Haralal to keep all his rings and
his watch and chain until he asked for them again. Haralal put them all
together in a leather bag and laid it in the iron safe. Venu went out.
The canvas bags containing the currency notes had already been placed in
the safe: only the loose coins remained to be counted over and put away
with the rest.
XI
Haralal lay down on the floor of the same room, with the key under his
pillow, and went to sleep. He dreamt that Venu's mother was loudly
reproaching him from behind the curtain. Her words were indistinct, but
rays of different colours from the jewels on her body kept piercing the
curtain like needles and violently vibrating. Haralal struggled to call
Venu, but his voice seemed to forsake him. At last, with a noise, the
curtain fell down. Haralal started up from his sleep and found darkness
piled up round about him. A sudden gust of wind had flung open the
window and put out the light. Haralal's whole body was wet with
perspiration. He relighted the lamp and saw, by the clock, that it was
four in the morning. There was no time to sleep again; for he had to get
ready to start.
After Haralal had washed his face and hands his mother called from her
own room,--"Baba, why are you up so soon?"
It was the habit of Haralal to see his mother's face the first thing in
the morning in order to bring a blessing upon the day. His mother said
to him: "I was dreaming that you were going out to bring back a bride
for yourself." Haralal went to his own bedroom and began to take out the
bags containing the silver and the currency notes.
Suddenly his heart stopped beating. Three of the bags appeared to be
empty. He knocked them against the iron safe, but this only proved his
fear to be true. He opened them and shook them with all his might. Two
letters from Venu dropped out from one of the bags. One was addressed to
his father and one to Haralal.
Haralal tore open his own letter and began reading. The words seemed to
run into one another. He trimmed the lamp, but felt as if he could not
understand what he read. Yet the purport of the letter was clear. Venu
had taken three thousand rupees, in currency notes, and had started for
England. The steamer was to sail before day-break that very morning. The
letter ended with the words: "I am explaining everything in a letter to
my father. He will pay off the debt; and then, again, my mother's
ornaments, which I have left in your care, will more than cover the
amount I have taken."
Haralal locked up his room and hired a carriage and went with all haste
to the jetty. But he did not know even the name of the steamer which
Venu had taken. He ran the whole length of the wharves from Prinsep's
Ghat to Metiaburuj. He found that two steamers had started on their
voyage to England early that morning. It was impossible for him to know
which of them carried Venu, or how to reach him.
When Haralal got home, the sun was strong and the whole of Calcutta was
awake. Everything before his eyes seemed blurred. He felt as if he were
pushing against a fearful obstacle which was bodiless and without pity.
His mother came on the verandah to ask him anxiously where he had gone.
With a dry laugh he said to her,--"To bring home a bride for myself,"
and then he fainted away.
On opening his eyes after a while, Haralal asked his mother to leave
him. Entering his room he shut the door from the inside while his mother
remained seated on the floor of the verandah in the fierce glare of the
sun. She kept calling to him fitfully, almost mechanically,--"Baba,
Baba!"
The servant came from the Manager's office and knocked at the door,
saying that they would miss the train if they did not start out at once.
Haralal called from inside, "It will not be possible for me to start
this morning."
"Then where are we to go, Sir?"
"I will tell you later on."
The servant went downstairs with a gesture of impatience.
Suddenly Haralal thought of the ornaments which Venu had left behind. Up
till now he had completely forgotten about them, but with the thought
came instant relief. He took the leather bag containing them, and also
Venu's letter to his father, and left the house.
Before he reached Adharlal's house he could hear the bands playing for
the wedding, yet on entering he could feel that there had been some
disturbance. Haralal was told that there had been a theft the night
before and one or two servants were suspected. Adhar Babu was sitting in
the upper verandah flushed with anger and Ratikanta was smoking his
hookah. Haralal said to Adhar Babu, "I have something private to tell
you." Adharlal flared up, "I have no time now!" He was afraid that
Haralal had come to borrow money or to ask his help. Ratikanta suggested
that if there was any delicacy in making the request in his presence he
would leave the place. Adharlal told him angrily to sit where he was.
Then Haralal handed over the bag which Venu had left behind. Adharlal
asked what was inside it and Haralal opened it and gave the contents
into his hands.
Then Adhar Babu said with a sneer: "It's a paying business that you two
have started--you and your former pupil! You were certain that the
stolen property would be traced, and so you come along with it to me to
claim a reward!"
Haralal presented the letter which Venu had written to his father. This
only made Adharlal all the more furious.
"What's all this?" he shouted, "I'll call for the police! My son has not
yet come of age,--and _you_ have smuggled him out of the country! I'll
bet my soul you've lent him a few hundred rupees, and then taken a note
of hand for three thousand! But I am not going to be bound by _this_!"
"I never advanced him any money at all," said Haralal.
"Then how did he find it?" said Adharlal, "Do you mean to tell me he
broke open your safe and stole it?"
Haralal stood silent.
Ratikanta sarcastically remarked: "I don't believe this fellow ever set
hands on as much as three thousand rupees in his life."
When Haralal left the house he seemed to have lost the power of dreading
anything, or even of being anxious. His mind seemed to refuse to work.
Directly he entered the lane he saw a carriage waiting before his own
lodging. For a moment he felt certain that it was Venu's. It was
impossible to believe that his calamity could be so hopelessly final.
Haralal went up quickly, but found an English assistant from the firm
sitting inside the carriage. The man came out when he saw Haralal and
took him by the hand and asked him: "Why didn't you go out by train this
morning?" The servant had told the Manager his suspicions and he had
sent this man to find out.
Haralal answered: "Notes to the amount of three thousand rupees are
missing."
The man asked how that could have happened.
Haralal remained silent.
The man said to Haralal: "Let us go upstairs together and see where you
keep your money." They went up to the room and counted the money and
made a thorough search of the house.
When the mother saw this she could not contain herself any longer. She
came out before the stranger and said: "Baba, what has happened?" He
answered in broken Hindustani that some money had been stolen.
"Stolen!" the mother cried, "Why! How could it be stolen? Who could do
such a dastardly thing?" Haralal said to her: "Mother, don't say a
word."
The man collected the remainder of the money and told Haralal to come
with him to the Manager. The mother barred the way and said:
"Sir, where are you taking my son? I have brought him up, starving and
straining to do honest work. My son would never touch money belonging to
others."
The Englishman, not knowing Bengali, said, "Achcha! Achcha!" Haralal
told his mother not to be anxious; he would explain it all to the
Manager and soon be back again. The mother entreated him, with a
distressed voice,
"Baba, you haven't taken a morsel of food all morning." Haralal stepped
into the carriage and drove away, and the mother sank to the ground in
the anguish of her heart.
The Manager said to Haralal: "Tell me the truth. What did happen?"
Haralal said to him, "I haven't taken any money."
"I fully believe it," said the Manager, "but surely you know who has
taken it."
Haralal looked on the ground and remained silent.
"Somebody," said the Manager, "must have taken it away with your
connivance."
"Nobody," replied Haralal, "could take it away with my knowledge without
taking first my life."
"Look here, Haralal," said the Manager, "I trusted you completely. I
took no security. I employed you in a post of great responsibility.
Every one in the office was against me for doing so. The three thousand
rupees is a small matter, but the shame of all this to me is a great
matter. I will do one thing. I will give you the whole day to bring back
this money. If you do so, I shall say nothing about it and I will keep
you on in your post."
It was now eleven o'clock. Haralal with bent head went out of the
office. The clerks began to discuss the affair with exultation.
"What can I _do_? What can I _do_?" Haralal repeated to himself, as he
walked along like one dazed, the sun's heat pouring down upon him. At
last his mind ceased to think at all about what could be done, but the
mechanical walk went on without ceasing.
This city of Calcutta, which offered its shelter to thousands and
thousands of men had become like a steel trap. He could see no way out.
The whole body of people were conspiring to surround and hold him
captive--this most insignificant of men, whom no one knew. Nobody had
any special grudge against him, yet everybody was his enemy. The crowd
passed by, brushing against him: the clerks of the offices were eating
their lunch on the road side from their plates made of leaves: a tired
wayfarer on the Maidan, under the shade of a tree, was lying with one
hand beneath his head and one leg upraised over the other: The
up-country women, crowded into hackney carriages, were wending their way
to the temple: a chuprassie came up with a letter and asked him the
address on the envelope,--so the afternoon went by.
Then came the time when the offices were all about to close. Carriages
started off in all directions, carrying people back to their homes. The
clerks, packed tightly on the seats of the trams, looked at the theatre
advertisements as they returned to their lodgings. From to-day, Haralal
had neither his work in the office, nor release from work in the
evening. He had no need to hurry to catch the tram to take him to his
home. All the busy occupations of the city--the buildings--the horses
and carriages--the incessant traffic--seemed, now at one time, to swell
into dreadful reality, and at another time, to subside into the shadowy
unreal.
Haralal had taken neither food, nor rest, nor shelter all that day.
The street lamps were lighted from one road to another and it seemed to
him that a watchful darkness, like some demon, was keeping its eyes wide
open to guard every movement of its victim. Haralal did not even have
the energy to enquire how late it was. The veins on his forehead
throbbed, and he felt as if his head would burst. Through the paroxysms
of pain, which alternated with the apathy of dejection, only one thought
came again and again to his mind; among the innumerable multitudes in
that vast city, only one name found its way through his dry
throat,--"Mother!"
He said to himself, "At the deep of night, when no one is awake to
capture me--me, who am the least of all men,--I will silently creep to
my mother's arms and fall asleep, and may I never wake again!"
Haralal's one trouble was lest some police officer should molest him in
the presence of his mother, and this kept him back from going home. When
it became impossible for him at last to bear the weight of his own body,
he hailed a carriage. The driver asked him where he wanted to go. He
said: "Nowhere, I want to drive across the Maidan to get the fresh air."
The man at first did not believe him and was about to drive on, when
Haralal put a rupee into his hand as an advance payment. Thereupon the
driver crossed, and then re-crossed, the Maidan from one side to the
other, traversing the different roads.
Haralal laid his throbbing head on the side of the open window of the
carriage and closed his eyes. Slowly all the pain abated. His body
became cool. A deep and intense peace filled his heart and a supreme
deliverance seemed to embrace him on every side. It was _not_ true,--the
day's despair which threatened him with its grip of utter helplessness.
It was _not_ true, it was false. He knew now that it was only an empty
fear of the mind. Deliverance was in the infinite sky and there was no
end to peace. No king or emperor in the world had the power to keep
captive this nonentity, this Haralal. In the sky, surrounding his
emancipated heart on every side, he felt the presence of his mother,
that one poor woman. She seemed to grow and grow till she filled the
infinity of darkness. All the roads and buildings and shops of Calcutta
gradually became enveloped by her. In her presence vanished all the
aching pains and thoughts and consciousness of Haralal. It burst,--that
bubble filled with the hot vapour of pain. And now there was neither
darkness nor light, but only one tense fulness.
The Cathedral clock struck one. The driver called out impatiently:
"Babu, my horse can't go on any longer. Where do you want to go?"
There came no answer.
The driver came down and shook Haralal and asked him again where he
wanted to go.
There came no answer.
And the answer was never received from Haralal, where he wanted to go.
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- Short Stories by Rabindranath Tagore Amardeep Singh