Summary of Saratchandra Chattopadhyay's "Pather Dabi: The Right of Way" (1926)
Detailed Summary
Note: Chapters of this book were first published in Bengali in a magazine called Bangabani in 1921-1922. Once authorities got involved to ban the magazine, the author decided to try and publish the complete text as a book. He succeeded in doing that in 1926. Thousands of copies of the book were sold, but the book was immediately banned. The ban was lifted in 1939. However, no English translation of Pather Dabi appeared until 1993.
The one existing translation of the book remains under copyright.
Tags: Nationalism, Anti-colonial activism, racism, discrimination, failures of the British justice system, underground organizations, critiques of caste orthodoxy, critiques of patriarchy, Christian converts
Summary
Apurba is raised as an orthodox Brahmin. He earned a Master’s degree in Science, and as a young man often clashes with his modern, ritual-ignoring brothers and friends over his adherence to Hindu traditions, such as sporting a holy tuft of hair and accompanying his mother, Karunamayee, for daily baths in the Ganga.
Here is the opening passage of the novel from the 1993 Mukherjee translation:
Apurba’s orthodoxy got him into frequent arguments with his friends. “While your brothers observe no rituals,’ they would say, ‘there’s nothing that you don’t follow.’
‘Not at all,’ Apurba would reply. ‘I don’t follow my brothers’ example, nor your advice.’
His friends would repeat their old joke. ‘You’ve studied in a college, hold a Master’s degree in Science, and still sport the holy tuft of hair on your head. Does it serve as a conductor for electricity to your brain?’
“There’s nothing in the science books against sporting the tuft of hair, Apurba would reply. ‘Hence I’m not convinced that it’s wrong to sport one. As for electricity, its full facts haven’t yet been ascertained. If you don’t believe me, ask the teachers.
’ Disgusted, they would grumble, ‘It’s no use arguing with you.’
At this Apurba would burst into laughter. “That undoubtedly is a truism, yet you people don’t realise it.’
Encouraged by the example and conduct of their Deputy Magistrate father, when Apurba’s elder brothers began to eat chicken curry and bread openly, and hung their sacred thread on a nail before taking their bath and often forgot to retrieve it afterwards, and also joked about the desirability of getting it washed and ironed by the washerman, Apurba had not yet been invested with the sacred thread.
Despite his mother’s initial reluctance to send him to what she considers an "irreligious" and "barbarous" country, Apurba accepts a lucrative job in Rangoon, Burma, arranged by his college principal. Before his departure, his eldest brother, Binode, suggests that leaving the country might distance Apurba from the "vicious" political atmosphere of the swadeshi movement, which had previously endangered their father's career.
Upon reaching Rangoon, Apurba is disappointed by his stuffy, wooden quarters and his neighbors: a Chinese gentleman and an Anglo-Indian family. His servant, Tewari, is soon involved in a violent dispute with the neighbor upstairs, a drunken man named Mr. Joseph, who pours water through the wooden floor, ruining Apurba's food and bedding. When Apurba attempts to confront the man, he is met by Joseph’s daughter, Bharati, who begs for forgiveness on her father’s behalf. Though initially hostile, Apurba is touched by her gentleness, even as Tewari's strict orthodoxy leads them to refuse a gift of fruit from the Christian girl. However, the situation escalates when Mr. Joseph, coached by his daughter to misrepresent the confrontation, files a criminal case against Apurba for attempted assault. Despite telling the truth, Apurba is fined twenty rupees by a British judge, a stigma he finds deeply humiliating.
Here is a passage describing that outcome:
Apurba’s perspective on the British administration begins to shift following a series of personal insults, including being kicked off a "Europeans only" railway bench by Anglo-Indian boys and being dismissed with contempt by a British Station Master.There was no lawyer from the defendant’s side. In his own statement Apurba gave an absolutely true version of the incident; he neither suppressed, nor exaggerated anything. The 52 only witness for the plaintiff was his daughter. In the course of her evidence, her antecedents came to light. Apurba was greatly surprised by what he heard. She was apparently the daughter of one late Raj Kumar Bhattacharya of Barisal. The girl’s name was Mary Bharati. Mr. Bhattacharya had himself attained enlightenment by embracing Christianity. After his death, his wife came to Bangalore as an attendant to the daughter of a missionary. There she succumbed to the charms of Mr. Joseph and married him. The girl renounced her ancestral surname ‘Bhattacharya’ as it appeared old-fashioned and ugly and adopted the surname ‘Joseph’ instead. So she was now known as Miss Mary Bharati Joseph. When questioned by the Magistrate, she denied having gone to Apurba’s rooms with the fruits. But her tone and face betrayed the truth so clearly that it did not escape the attention of not only the Magistrate, but also of his orderly. As no lawyer had been engaged by either party, there was no scope for making a mountain out of a molehill.
The trial was over the same day. Tewari was found not guilty and acquitted, but Apurba was fined twenty rupees. This sentence in a court of law on a false charge so early in life pained Apurba greatly. He paid the amount, and as he came out of the courtroom he found Ramdas standing near the door. Apurba burst out, ‘They fined me twenty rupees! What should we do now? File an appeal?’
Here is a brief passage describing that scene:
He finds an unexpected mentor in his office accountant, Ramdas Talwarkar, a Marathi Brahmin who reveals he was once imprisoned and whipped by the British for his political activities.When he managed to get up he found five or six Anglo-Indian boys, some with cigarettes and some with pipes dangling from their lips, grinning at him. One of them who had possibly knocked him down now pointed to something written on the bench and said in broken Hindi, ‘Bastard, this bench is meant for sahibs; not for you!’ Shame, insult and indignation made Apurba miserable. His eyes turned moist and red, his lips began to quiver. He was unable to say anything. His plight caused great amusement among the AngloIndian boys. One of them said, ‘You native milkman, you’ve the cheek to glare at us! Wish to go to jail, eh?’ All burst into loud laughter. One of them let out a whistle and made an obscene gesture. Apurba’s sanity deserted him. In a moment he would have pounced on the boys. But some north Indian workmen, who had been sitting nearby cleaning the lamps, intervened and pushed him out of the platform.
That day when in a state of euphoria Apurba disclosed the whole thing, Ramdas sat silently looking at his face. Nor did he ask a single question as Apurba spoke of Bharati, Sumitra, Doctor, Nabatara and even the drunkard, and then went on to describe the aims and objectives of their organisation and went on to give an account of his visit to the coolie lines. Apurba knew that Ramdas had been. to jail, had been whipped and tortured for the sake of the motherland. Though Ramdas never spoke about it except once, Apurba knew it and idolized him for that. Despite being his superior in the office, Apurba felt small before Ramdas for this. He was not mean-minded and regarded Ramdas as his friend. Nor was he envious of him; yet he could not shake off his inferiority complex. Thus, there grew up something like a wall between these two friends. Apurba now placed Sumitra’s letter before Ramdas and describing himself as an important member of the organisation, devoted heart and soul to the service of the motherland; he felt he had become his equal at last. Sumitra’s letter was written in English.
Ramdas read through it silently more than once and then looked up and asked, ‘How’s it you’ve never told me anything about all this earlier?’
At the same time, Apurba encounters a senior police official and family friend, Naimaibabu, who is in Rangoon to hunt a legendary revolutionary named Sabyasachi Mallick. Apurba unknowingly meets Sabyasachi at the police station, where the revolutionary is disguised as a sickly, fashion-obsessed man named Girish Mahapatra. Sabyasachi easily outwits the police, and Apurba later realizes his true identity, feeling a deep, if fearful, reverence for the man’s sacrifice for the motherland.
Bharati eventually introduces Apurba to "Pather Dabi" (The Right of Way), a secret society dedicated to Indian independence, led by the regal and intellectually formidable Sumitra. Apurba is fascinated but troubled by the organization’s radical views, particularly Sumitra’s disregard for traditional concepts of female chastity and Sabyasachi’s belief that all obsolete social and religious structures must be demolished to achieve freedom.
Here is an excerpt of a debate between Sumitra and another member of the organization, Manohar Babu, where Sumitra makes her critique of patriarchal double-standards regarding the participation of women in the movement:
He no longer regretted having come to this meeting. Sumitra now replied to the argument advanced by the gentleman in European dress. Indeed, this was what a woman’s voice should be like! Apurba leaned forward so as not to miss a single syllable.
‘Manoharbabu, you're no inexperienced young lawyer,’ said Sumitra. ‘If your argument becomes irrelevant, how am I to decide the case?’
‘To talk irrelevant matters is against my profession,’ replied Manoharbabu.
‘That’s what we expect,’ smiled Sumitra. ‘Now your argument -in brief is like this. You’re a friend of Nabatara’s husband. He wants to force her to return to him. But she’s not agreeable; she wants to serve her country. I don’t see anything wrong in her decision.’
‘But doesn’t she have a duty towards her husband? It’s not enough if she says that she wants to serve her country.’ ‘Look here. It’s for Nabatara to decide what she wants to do or not to do. But her husband also had a duty towards his wife, which we all know he never fulfilled. Certainly duty cannot be one-sided.’
Manoharbabu said angrily, ‘But that’s no argument for the wife to become unchaste. That she'll be able to maintain her chastity while working for the country, in this crowd, and in her age . . . surely no one can give that assurance either!’
Sumitra’s face turned momentarily red. Then she regained her composure and said, ‘One can of course give no assurances. But we’ve seen that Nabatara is humane, energetic, courageous, and above all, has piety. But whether she’ll be able to retain what you describe as chastity, that is for her to say.’
While visiting factory worker lines with Bharati, Apurba is horrified by the bestial conditions and moral degradation of the laborers, leading him to doubt if such a population can ever be united. Sabyasachi, however, argues that these miseries are the direct result of colonial exploitation and that revolution is the only path to "manhood" and self-respect.
The tension between Apurba’s fear and his burgeoning patriotism reaches a breaking point during a public meeting at the Phaya temple grounds. When British mounted police order the meeting to stop, Apurba is paralyzed by fear and unable to speak, while Ramdas Talwarkar courageously addresses the crowd and is subsequently arrested and beaten. In the aftermath, Apurba's cowardice is fully revealed when, under pressure from his manager and the police, he divulges information about "Pather Dabi" to protect his job. The society, viewing this as an unpardonable act of treachery, lures Apurba to a deserted Buddhist monastery where they sentence him to death. Only the intervention of Sabyasachi, who overrules the unanimous vote of the members for Bharati’s sake, saves Apurba’s life. Sabyasachi dismisses Apurba as a "weakling" rather than a traitor and orders him to return to India.
During this period, Apurba’s mother, Karunamayee, dies of pneumonia in a crowded Rangoon boarding house after following her son to Burma in a fit of grief over her family's internal disputes. Apurba is shattered by her death and the cold response of his elder brother, who refuses to come to Burma to assist with the rites. Bharati, despite her deep disappointment in Apurba’s earlier betrayal, stays by his side, nursing him through his grief and managing his household. This tragedy transforms Apurba; he renounces his former life and vows to become an ascetic dedicated to serving the rural peasantry, though Sabyasachi skeptically notes that the peasantry may not be ready for the sacrifice required for true revolution.
In the final chapters, the Rangoon branch of "Pather Dabi" collapses as the police close in. Sumitra leaves for Java to claim an inheritance, and the other members scatter across Asia. Sabyasachi prepares to depart for China and Singapore to save other branches of his organization, knowing that Brojendra—a rival member who hates Sabyasachi’s authority—may be plotting to kill him. On a final stormy night, Sabyasachi visits Bharati and Apurba one last time, reaffirming his uncompromising creed that the only outcome for his life is either death or India's independence. He rejects the British promise of administrative reforms as a "hoax" intended to make the "prison cell a little wider".
As Sabyasachi and his loyal soldier Hira Singh vanish into the torrential rain and darkness to catch a Chinese ship, Bharati and Apurba are left behind in Rangoon. Sashi the poet, who has vowed to give up liquor and politics to look after Bharati, salutes the departing leader. Apurba, now free from the burden of his former fear, also offers a silent salutation, finally recognizing the debt he owes to the man who saved his life. Bharati remains by the window, staring into the dark, a witness to the end of an era for the society but the beginning of her own committed path to service and her enduring, if complicated, love for Apurba.