{"id":2293,"date":"2013-07-13T01:40:39","date_gmt":"2013-07-13T01:40:39","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/localhost\/?p=2293"},"modified":"2013-07-13T01:40:39","modified_gmt":"2013-07-13T01:40:39","slug":"36-anandamath-the-first-thirteen-chapters-vol-05-translations","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/worksofthemotherandsriaurobindo.org\/index.php\/01-works-of-sri-aurobindo\/03-cwsa\/05-translations\/36-anandamath-the-first-thirteen-chapters-vol-05-translations","title":{"rendered":"-36_Anandamath The First Thirteen Chapters.html"},"content":{"rendered":"
\n\n\n
\n

\n
\nAnandamath<\/font><\/span><\/b><\/p>\n

\n <\/p>\n

\n
\nTHE FIRST THIRTEEN CHAPTERS<\/font><\/span><\/b><\/p>\n

\n <\/p>\n

\n

\nPrologue<\/font><\/span><\/b><\/p>\n

\n <\/p>\n

\nA<\/font> WIDE <\/b>interminable forest. Most of the trees are sals<\/i>, but
\nother kinds are not wanting. Treetop mingling with treetop, foliage melting into foliage, the interminable lines
\nprogress; without crevice, without gap, without even a way for the light to enter, league after league and again league after
\nleague the boundless ocean of leaves advances, tossing wave upon wave in the wind. Underneath, thick darkness; even at
\nmidday the light is dim and uncertain; a seat of terrific gloom. There the foot of man never treads; there except the illimitable
\nrustle of the leaves and the cry of wild beasts and birds, no sound is heard.
\n<\/span><\/p>\n

\nIn this interminable, impenetrable wilderness of blind gloom, it is night. The hour is midnight and a very dark
\nmidnight; even outside the woodland it is dark and nothing can be seen. Within the forest the piles of gloom are like the
\ndarkness in the womb of the earth itself. <\/span><\/p>\n

\nBird and beast are utterly and motionlessly still. What hundreds of thousands, what millions of birds, beasts, insects, flying things have their dwelling within that forest, but not one is giving
\nforth a sound. Rather the darkness is within the imagination, but inconceivable is that noiseless stillness of the ever-murmurous,
\never noise-filled earth. In that limitless empty forest, in the solid darkness of that midnight, in that unimaginable silence there
\nwas a sound, “Shall the desire of my heart ever be fulfilled?” <\/span><\/p>\n

\nAfter that sound the forest reaches sank again into stillness.
\nWho would have said then that a human sound had been heard in those wilds? A little while after, the sound came again, again
\nthe voice of man rang forth troubling the hush, “Shall the desire of my heart ever be fulfilled?”
\n<\/span><\/p>\n

\nThree times the wide sea of darkness was thus shaken. Then the answer came, “What is the stake put down?”<\/span><\/p>\n

\n <\/p>\n

\n

<\/p>\n

Page \u2013 471<\/font><\/span><\/p>\n

\n

\n

The first voice replied, “I have staked my life and all its riches.”
\n<\/span><\/p>\n

\n

The echo answered, “Life! it is a small thing which all can sacrifice.”
\n<\/span><\/p>\n

\n

“What else is there? What more can I give?” <\/span><\/p>\n

\n

This was the answer, “Thy soul’s worship.”<\/span><\/p>\n

\n

 <\/p>\n

\n

<\/p>\n

Page \u2013 472<\/font><\/span><\/p>\n

\n

\nChapter I
\n<\/a>
\n<\/font><\/span><\/b><\/p>\n

\n <\/p>\n

\nI<\/font>T WAS <\/b>a summer day of the Bengali year 1176. The glare and
\nheat of the sun lay very heavy on the village of Padchinha. The village was crowded with houses, yet there was not a
\nman to be seen. Line upon line of shops in the bazaar, row upon row of booths in the mart, hundreds of earthen houses
\ninterspersed with stone mansions high and low in every quarter. But today all was silent. In the bazaar the shops are closed, and
\nwhere the shopkeeper has fled no man can tell. It is market day today, but in the mart there is no buying and selling. It is the
\nbeggars’ day but the beggars are not out. The weaver has shut up his loom and lies weeping in his house; the trader has forgotten
\nhis traffic and weeps with his infant in his lap; the givers have left giving and the teachers closed their schools; the very infant,
\nit would seem, has no longer heart to cry aloud. No wayfarers are to be seen in the highways, no bathers in the lake, no human
\nforms at door and threshold, no birds in the trees, no cattle in the pastures, only in the burning-ground dog and jackal crowd.
\nIn that crowded desolation of houses one huge building whose great fluted pillars could be seen from afar, rose glorious as the
\npeak of a hill. And yet where was the glory? The doors were shut, the house empty of the concourse of men, hushed and voiceless,
\ndifficult even to the entry of the wind. In a room within this dwelling where even noon was a darkness, in that darkness, like
\na pair of lilies flowering in the midnight, a wedded couple sat in thought. Straight in front of them stood Famine.
\n<\/span><\/p>\n

\nThe harvest of the year 1174 had been poor, consequently in the year 1175 rice was a little dear; the people suffered, but
\nthe Government exacted its revenues to the last fraction of a farthing. As a result of this careful reckoning the poor began to
\neat only once a day. The rains in 1175 were copious and people thought Heaven had taken pity on the land. Joyously once more<\/span><\/p>\n

\n <\/p>\n

\n

<\/p>\n

Page \u2013 473<\/font><\/span><\/p>\n

\n

\n

the herdsman sang his ditty in the fields, the tiller’s wife again began to tease her husband for a silver bracelet. Suddenly in
\nthe month of Aswin Heaven turned away its face. In Aswin and Kartik not a drop of rain fell; the grain in the fields withered and
\nturned to straw as it stood. Wherever an ear or two flourished, the officials bought it for the troops. The people no longer had
\nanything to eat. First they stinted themselves of one meal in the day, then even from their single meal they rose with half-filled
\nstomachs, next the two meal-times became two fasts. The little harvest reaped in Chaitra was not enough to fill the hungry
\nmouths. But Mahomed Reza Khan, who was in charge of the revenues, thought fit to show himself off as a loyal servant and
\nimmediately enhanced the taxes by ten per cent. Throughout Bengal arose a clamour of great weeping.
\n<\/span><\/p>\n

\n

First, people began to live by begging, but afterwards who could give alms? They began to fast. Next they fell into the
\nclutch of disease. The cow was sold, plough and yoke were sold, the seed-rice was eaten, hearth and home were sold, land and
\ngoods were sold. Next they began to sell their girls. After that they began to sell their boys. After that they began to sell their
\nwives. Next girl, boy, or wife, \u2014 who would buy? Purchasers there were none, only sellers. For want of food men began to
\neat the leaves of trees, they began to eat grass, they began to eat weeds. The lower castes and the forest men began devouring
\ndogs, mice and cats. Many fled, but those who fled only reached some foreign land to die of starvation. Those who remained ate uneatables or subsisted without food till disease took hold of them and they died.
\n<\/span><\/p>\n

\n

Disease had its day, \u2014 fever, cholera, consumption, smallpox. The virulence of smallpox was especially great. In every
\nhouse men began to perish of the disease. There was none to give water to his fellow, none who would touch him, none to
\ntreat the sick. Men would not turn to care for each other’s sufferings, nor was there any to take up the corpse from where
\nit lay. Beautiful bodies lay rotting in wealthy mansions. For where once the smallpox made its entry, the dwellers fled from
\nthe house and abandoned the sick man in their fear.<\/span><\/p>\n

\n

 <\/p>\n

\n

<\/p>\n

Page \u2013 474<\/font><\/span><\/p>\n

\n

\nMohendra Singha was a man of great wealth in the village of Padchinha, but today rich and poor were on one level. In
\nthis time of crowding afflictions his relatives, friends, servants, maidservants had all been seized by disease and gone from him.
\nSome had died, some had fled. In that once peopled household there was only himself, his wife and one infant girl. This was the
\ncouple of whom I spoke. <\/span> <\/p>\n

\nThe wife, Kalyani, gave up thinking and went to the cowshed to milk the cow; then she warmed the milk, fed her child and went again to give the cow its grass and water. When she
\nreturned from her task Mohendra said, “How long can we go on in this way?”
\n<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\n“Not long;” answered Kalyani, “as long as we can. So long as possible I will keep things going, afterwards you and the girl
\ncan go to the town.” <\/span> <\/p>\n

\n
\nMohendra<\/i>. “If we have to go to the town at the end, why
\nshould I inflict all this trouble on you at all? Come, let us go at once.”
\n<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nAfter much arguing and contention between husband and wife, Kalyani said, “Will there be any particular advantage in
\ngoing to the town?” <\/span> <\/p>\n

\n
\nMohendra<\/i>. “Very possibly that place too is as empty of men
\nand empty of means of subsistence as we are here.”
\n<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\n
\nKalyani<\/i>. “If you go to Murshidabad, Cassimbazar or Calcutta, you may save your life. It is in every way best to leave this place.”
\n<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nMohendra answered, “This house has been full for many years of the gathered wealth of generations. All this will be
\nlooted by thieves!” <\/span> <\/p>\n

\n
\nKalyani<\/i>. “If thieves come to loot it, shall we two be able
\nto protect the treasure? If life is not saved who will be there to enjoy? Come, let us shut up the whole place this moment and
\ngo. If we survive, we can come back and enjoy what remains.” <\/span> <\/p>\n

\n“Will you be able to do the journey on foot?” asked Mohendra. “The palanquin-bearers are all dead. As for cart or carriage, where there are bullocks there is no driver and where there is a
\ndriver there are no bullocks.”<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n

\n <\/p>\n

\n

<\/p>\n

Page \u2013 475<\/font><\/span><\/p>\n

\n

\n


\nKalyani<\/i>. “Oh, I shall be able to walk, do not fear.” <\/span><\/p>\n

\n


\nIn her heart she thought, even if she fell and died on the
\nway, these two at least would be saved. <\/span><\/p>\n

\n


\nThe next day at dawn the two took some money with them,
\nlocked up room and door, let loose the cattle, took the child in their arms and set out for the capital. At the time of starting Mohendra said, “The road is very difficult, at every step dacoits and highwaymen are hovering about, it is not well to go
\nempty-handed.” So saying Mohendra returned to the house and took from it musket, shot, and powder.
\n<\/span><\/p>\n

\n


\nWhen she saw the weapon, Kalyani said, “Since you have remembered to take arms with you, hold Sukumari for a moment
\nand I too will bring a weapon with me.” With the words she put her daughter into Mohendra’s arms and in her turn entered the
\nhouse. <\/span><\/p>\n

\n


\nMohendra called after her, “Why, what weapon can you
\ntake with you?” <\/span><\/p>\n

\n


\nAs she came, Kalyani hid a small casket of poison in her
\ndress. Fearing what fate might befall her in these days of misfortune, she had already procured and kept the poison with
\nher. <\/span><\/p>\n

\n


\nIt was the month of Jyaistha, a savage heat, the earth as
\nif aflame, the wind scattering fire, the sky like a canopy of heated copper, the dust of the road like sparks of fire. Kalyani
\nbegan to perspire profusely. Now resting under the shade of a babla-tree, now sitting in the shelter of a date-palm, drinking the
\nmuddy water of dried ponds, with great difficulty she journeyed forward. The girl was in Mohendra’s arms and sometimes he
\nfanned her with his robe. Once the two refreshed themselves, seated under the boughs of a creeper-covered tree flowering with
\nodorous blooms and dark-hued with dense shade-giving foliage. Mohendra wondered to see Kalyani’s endurance under fatigue.
\nHe drenched his robe with water from a neighbouring pool and sprinkled it on his and Kalyani’s face, forehead, hands and feet.
\n<\/span><\/p>\n

\n


\nKalyani was a little cooled and refreshed, but both of them were distressed with great hunger. That could be borne, but the
\nhunger and thirst of their child could not be endured, so they<\/span><\/p>\n

\n <\/p>\n

\n

<\/p>\n

Page \u2013 476<\/font><\/span><\/p>\n

\n

\nresumed their march. Swimming through those waves of fire they arrived before evening at an inn. Mohendra had cherished
\na great hope that on reaching the inn he would be able to give cool water to his wife and child to drink and food to save their
\nlives. But he met with a great disappointment. There was not a man in the inn. Big rooms were lying empty, the men had all
\nfled. Mohendra after looking about the place made his wife and daughter lie down in one of the rooms. He began to call from
\noutside in a loud voice, but got no answer. Then Mohendra said to Kalyani, “Will you have a little courage and stay here alone?
\nIf there is a cow to be found in this region, may Sri Krishna have pity on us and I shall bring you some milk.” He took an earthen
\nwater-jar in his hand and went out. A number of such jars were lying about the place.<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n

\n <\/p>\n

\n

<\/p>\n

Page \u2013 477<\/font><\/span><\/p>\n

\n

\nChapter II
\n<\/a>
\n<\/font><\/span><\/b><\/p>\n

\n <\/p>\n

\nM<\/font>OHENDRA <\/b>departed. Left alone with no one near
\nher but a little girl, Kalyani in that solitary and unpeopled place, in that almost pitch-dark cottage began to study closely every side. Great fear was upon her. No one anywhere, no sound of human existence to be heard, only
\nthe howling of the dogs and the jackals. She regretted letting her husband go,
\n\u2014 hunger and thirst might after all have been
\nborne a little longer. She thought of shutting all the doors and sitting in the security of the closed house. But not a single
\ndoor had either panel or bolt. As she was thus gazing in every direction suddenly something in the doorway that faced
\nher caught her eye, something like a shadow. It seemed to her to have the shape of a man and yet not to be human.
\nSomething utterly dried up and withered, something like a very black, a naked and terrifying human shape had come and was
\nstanding at the door. After a little while the shadow seemed to lift a hand, \u2014 with the long withered finger of a long withered hand, all skin and bone, it seemed to make a motion of summons to someone outside. Kalyani’s heart dried up in
\nher with fear. Then just such another shadow, withered, black, tall, naked, came and stood by the side of the first. Then another came and yet another came. Many came, \u2014 slowly, noiselessly they began to enter the room. The room with its almost
\nblind darkness grew dreadful as a midnight burning-ground. All those corpselike figures gathered round Kalyani and her
\ndaughter. Kalyani almost swooned away. Then the black withered men seized and lifted up the woman and the girl, carried
\nthem out of the house and entered into a jungle across the open fields.
\n<\/span><\/p>\n

\nA few minutes afterwards Mohendra arrived with the milk in the
\nwater-jar. He found the whole place empty. Hither and<\/span><\/p>\n

\n <\/p>\n

\n

<\/p>\n

Page \u2013 478<\/font><\/span><\/p>\n

\n

\n

thither he searched, often called aloud his daughter’s name and at last even his wife’s. There was no answer, he could find no
\ntrace of his wife and child.<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n

\n 
\n<\/span><\/p>\n

\n

<\/p>\n

Page \u2013 479<\/font><\/span><\/p>\n

\n

\nChapter III
\n<\/a>
\n<\/font><\/b><\/span><\/p>\n

\n <\/p>\n

\nI<\/font>T WAS<\/b> a very beautiful woodland in which the robbers set
\ndown Kalyani. There was no light, no eye to see the loveliness, \u2014 the beauty of the wood remained invisible like the
\nbeauty of soul in a poor man’s heart. There might be no food in the country, but there was wealth of flowers in the woodland; so
\nthick was the fragrance that even in that darkness one seemed to be conscious of a light. On a clear spot in the middle covered
\nwith soft grass the thieves set down Kalyani and her child and themselves sat around them. Then they began to debate what to
\ndo with them, for what ornaments Kalyani had with her were already in their possession. One group was very busy with the
\ndivision of this booty. But when the ornaments had been divided, one of the robbers said, “What are we to do with gold and silver?
\nSomeone give me a handful of rice in exchange for an ornament; I am tortured with hunger, I have eaten today nothing but the
\nleaves of trees.” No sooner had one so spoken than all echoed him and a clamour arose. “Give us rice, give us rice, we do not
\nwant gold and silver!” The leader tried to quiet them, but no one listened to him. Gradually high words began to be exchanged,
\nabuse flowed freely, a fight became imminent. Everyone in a rage pelted the leader with his whole allotment of ornaments. He also
\nstruck one or two and this brought all of them upon him striking at him in a general assault. The robber captain was emaciated
\nand ill with starvation, one or two blows laid him prostrate and lifeless. Then one in that hungry, wrathful, excited, maddened
\ntroop of plunderers cried out, “We have eaten the flesh of dogs and jackals and now we are racked with hunger; come, friends,
\nlet us feast today on this rascal.” Then all began to shout aloud “Glory to Kali! Bom Kali!! today we will eat human flesh.” And
\nwith this cry those black emaciated corpselike figures began to shout with laughter and dance and clap their hands in the<\/span><\/p>\n

\n

 <\/p>\n

\n

<\/p>\n

Page \u2013 480<\/font><\/span><\/p>\n

\n

\ncongenial darkness. One of them set about lighting a fire to roast the body of the leader. He gathered dried creepers, wood and
\ngrass, struck flint and iron and set light to the collected fuel. As the fire burned up a little, the dark green foliage of the trees that
\nwere neighbours to the spot, mango, lemon, jackfruit and palm, tamarind and date, were lit up faintly with the flames. Here the
\nleaves seemed ablaze, there the grass brightened in the light; in some places the darkness only became more crass and deep.
\nWhen the fire was ready, one began to drag the corpse by the leg and was about to throw it on the fire, but another intervened
\nand said “Drop it! stop, stop! if it is on the grand meat that we must keep ourselves alive today, then why the tough and juiceless
\nflesh of this old fellow? We shall eat what we have looted and brought with us today. Come along, there is that tender girl, let
\nus roast and eat her.” Another said “Roast anything you like, my good fellow, but roast it; I can stand this hunger no longer.”
\nThen all gazed greedily towards the place where Kalyani and her daughter had lain. They saw the place empty; neither child nor
\nmother was there. Kalyani had seen her opportunity when the robbers were disputing, taken her daughter into her arms, put
\nthe child’s mouth to her breast and fled into the wood. Aware of the escape of their prey, the ghostlike ruffian crew ran in every
\ndirection with a cry of “Kill, kill”. In certain conditions man is no better than a ferocious wild beast.<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n

\n <\/p>\n

\n

<\/p>\n

Page \u2013 481<\/font><\/span><\/p>\n

\n

\nChapter IV
\n<\/a>
\n<\/font><\/b><\/span><\/p>\n

\n <\/p>\n

\nT<\/font>HE DARKNESS<\/b> of the wood was very deep and Kalyani
\ncould not find her way. In the thickly-woven entanglement of trees, creepers and thorns there was no path at the
\nbest of times and on that there came this impenetrable darkness. Separating the branches and creepers, pushing through thorn
\nand briar Kalyani began to make her way into the thickness of the wood. The thorns pierced the child’s skin and she cried from
\ntime to time; and at that the shouts of the pursuing robbers rose higher. In this way with torn and bleeding body, Kalyani made
\nfar progress into the woodland. After a little while the moon rose. Until then there was some slight confidence in Kalyani’s
\nmind that in the darkness the robbers would not be able to find her and after a brief and fruitless search would desist from the
\npursuit, but, now that the moon had risen, that confidence left her. The moon, as it mounted into the sky, shed its light on
\nthe woodland tops and the darkness within was suffused with it. The darkness brightened, and here and there, through gaps,
\nthe outer luminousness found its way inside and peeped into the thickets. The higher the moon mounted, the more the light
\npenetrated into the reaches of foliage, the deeper all the shadows took refuge in the thicker parts of the forest. Kalyani too with
\nher child hid herself farther and farther in where the shadows retreated. And now the robbers shouted higher and began to
\ncome running from all sides, and the child in her terror wept louder. Kalyani then gave up the struggle and made no farther
\nattempt to escape. She sat down with the girl on her lap on a grassy thornless spot at the foot of a great tree and called
\nrepeatedly “Where art Thou? Thou whom I worship daily, to whom daily I bow down, in reliance on whom I had the strength
\nto penetrate into this forest, where art Thou, O Madhusudan?” At this time, what with fear, the deep emotion of spiritual love<\/span><\/p>\n

\n <\/p>\n

\n

<\/p>\n

Page \u2013 482<\/font><\/span><\/p>\n

\n

\nand worship and the lassitude of hunger and thirst, Kalyani gradually lost sense of her outward surroundings and became
\nfull of an inward consciousness in which she was aware of a heavenly voice singing in mid-air,
\n<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\n  <\/p>\n

\n “O Hari, O Murari, O foe of Kaitabh and Madhu! <\/span> <\/p>\n

\n O Gopal, O Govinda, O Mukunda, O Shauri!
\n<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\n O Hari, O Murari, O foe of Kaitabh and Madhu!” <\/span> <\/p>\n

\n  <\/p>\n

\n Kalyani had heard from her childhood, in the recitation
\nof the Puranas, that the sages of Paradise roam the world on the paths of the sky, crying aloud to the music of the harp the
\nname of Hari. That imagination took shape in her mind and she began to see with the inner vision a mighty ascetic, harp in
\nhand, white-bodied, white-haired, white-bearded, white-robed, tall of stature, singing in the path of the azure heavens,
\n\t<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\n  <\/p>\n

\n \t“O Hari, O Murari, O foe of Kaitabh and Madhu!” <\/span> <\/p>\n

\n  <\/p>\n

\n Gradually the song grew nearer, louder she heard the words,
\n\t<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\n  <\/p>\n

\n \t“O Hari, O Murari, O foe of Kaitabh and Madhu!” <\/span> <\/p>\n

\n  <\/p>\n

\n Then still nearer, still clearer,
\n<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\n  <\/p>\n

\n \t“O Hari, O Murari, O foe of Kaitabh and Madhu!” <\/span> <\/p>\n

\n  <\/p>\n

\n At last over Kalyani’s head the chant rang echoing in the woodland,
\n\t<\/span> <\/p>\n

\n  <\/p>\n

\n \t“O Hari, O Murari, O foe of Kaitabh and Madhu!”
\n<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\n  <\/p>\n

\n Then Kalyani opened her eyes. In the half-lustrous moonbeams suffused and shadowed with the darkness of the forest,
\nshe saw in front of her that white-bodied, white-haired, white-bearded,
\n\twhite-robed image of a sage. Dreamily all her consciousness centred on the vision. Kalyani thought to bow down to it, but she could not perform the salutation; even as she bent
\nher head, all consciousness left her and she lay fallen supine on the ground.<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n

\n <\/p>\n

\n

<\/p>\n

Page \u2013 483<\/font><\/span><\/p>\n

\n

\nChapter V
\n<\/a>
\n<\/font><\/b><\/span><\/p>\n

\n <\/p>\n

\nI<\/font>N A <\/b>huge tract of ground in the forest there was a great
\nmonastery engirt with ruined masses of stone. Archaeologists would tell us that this was formerly a monastic retreat of the
\nBuddhists and afterwards became a Hindu monastery. Its rows of edifices were two-storeyed; in between were temples and in
\nfront a meeting-hall. Almost all these buildings were surrounded with a wall and so densely hidden with the trees of the forest
\nthat, even at daytime and at a short distance from the place, none could divine the presence of a human habitation here. The buildings were broken in many places, but by daylight one could see that the whole place had been recently repaired. A glance showed
\nthat man had made his dwelling in this profound and inaccessible wilderness. It was in a room in this monastery, where a great
\nlog was blazing, that Kalyani first returned to consciousness and beheld in front of her that
\nwhite-bodied, white-robed Great One.
\nKalyani began once more to gaze on him with eyes large with wonder, for even now memory did not return to her. Then the
\nMighty One of Kalyani’s vision spoke to her, “My child, this is a habitation of the Gods, here have no apprehension. I have a
\nlittle milk, drink it and then I will talk with you.” <\/span><\/p>\n

\nAt first Kalyani could understand nothing, then, as by degrees her mind recovered some firm foundation, she threw the hem of her robe round her neck and made an obeisance at the
\nGreat One’s feet. He replied with a blessing and brought out from another room a sweet-smelling earthen pot in which he
\nwarmed some milk at the blazing fire. When the milk was warm he gave it to Kalyani and said, “My child, give some to your
\ndaughter to drink and then drink some yourself, afterwards you can talk.” Kalyani, with joy in her heart, began to administer
\nthe milk to her daughter. The unknown then said to her, “While I am absent, have no anxiety,” and left the temple. After a while<\/span><\/p>\n

\n <\/p>\n

\n

<\/p>\n

Page \u2013 484<\/font><\/span><\/p>\n

\n

\nhe returned from outside and saw that Kalyani had finished giving the milk to her child, but had herself drunk nothing; the
\nmilk was almost as it was at first, very little had been used. “My child,” said the unknown, “you have not drunk the milk; I am
\ngoing out again, and until you drink I will not return.” <\/span> <\/p>\n

\n The sage-like personage was again leaving the room, when Kalyani once more made him an obeisance and stood before him with folded hands.
\n\t<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\n “What is it you wish to say?” asked the recluse. <\/span> <\/p>\n

\n Then Kalyani replied, “Do not command me to drink the
\nmilk, there is an obstacle. I will not drink it.” <\/span> <\/p>\n

\n The recluse answered in a voice full of compassion, “Tell
\nme what is the obstacle; I am a forest-dwelling ascetic, you are my daughter; what can you have to say which you will not tell
\nme? When I carried you unconscious from the forest, you then seemed to me as if you had been sadly distressed with thirst and
\nhunger; if you do not eat and drink, how can you live?” <\/span> <\/p>\n

\n Kalyani answered, the tears dropping from her eyes, “You
\nare a god and I will tell you. My husband remains still fasting and until I meet him again or hear of his tasting food, how can
\nI eat?” <\/span> <\/p>\n

\n The ascetic asked, “Where is your husband?”
\n<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\n “I do not know,” said Kalyani, “the robbers stole me away after he had gone out in search of milk.” Then the ascetic by
\nquestion after question elicited all the information about Kalyani and her husband. Kalyani did not indeed utter her husband’s
\nname, \u2014 she could not; but the other information the ascetic received about him was sufficient for him to understand. He asked
\nher, “Then you are Mohendra Singha’s wife?” Kalyani, in silence and with bowed head, began to heap wood on the fire at which
\nthe milk had been warmed. Then the ascetic said, “Do what I tell you, drink the milk; I am bringing you news of your husband.
\nUnless you drink the milk, I will not go.” Kalyani asked, “Is there a little water anywhere here?” The ascetic pointed to a jar
\nof water. Kalyani made a cup of her hands, the ascetic filled it with water; then Kalyani, approaching her hands with the water
\nin them to the ascetic’s feet, said “Please put the dust of your feet<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n

\n <\/p>\n

\n

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\n

\n

in the water.” When the ascetic had touched the water with his foot, Kalyani drank it and said, “I have drunk nectar of the gods,
\ndo not tell me to eat or drink anything else; until I have news of my husband I will take nothing else.” The ascetic answered,
\n“Abide without fear in this temple. I am going in search of your husband.”<\/span><\/p>\n

\n <\/p>\n

\n

<\/p>\n

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\n

\nChapter VI
\n<\/a>
\n<\/font><\/b><\/span><\/p>\n

\n <\/p>\n

\nI<\/font>T WAS <\/b>far on in the night and the moon rode high overhead.
\nIt was not the full moon and its brilliance was not so keen. An uncertain light, confused with shadowy hints of darkness, lay
\nover an open common of immense extent, the two extremities of which could not be seen in that pale lustre. This plain affected
\nthe mind like something illimitable and desert, a very abode of fear. Through it there ran the road between Murshidabad and
\nCalcutta. <\/span><\/p>\n

\nOn the road-side was a small hill which bore upon it a
\ngoodly number of mango-trees. The tree-tops glimmered and trembled with a sibilant rustle in the moonlight, and their shadows too, black upon the blackness of the rocks, shook and quivered. The ascetic climbed to the top of the hill and there
\nin rigid silence listened, but for what he listened, it is not easy to say; for, in that great plain that seemed as vast as infinity,
\nthere was not a sound except the murmurous rustle of the trees. At one spot
\nthere is a great jungle near the foot of the hill, \u2014
\nthe hill above, the high road below, the jungle between. I do not know what sound met his ear from the jungle, but it was
\nin that direction the ascetic went. Entering into the denseness of the growth he saw in the forest, under the darkness of the
\nbranches at the foot of long rows of trees, men sitting, \u2014 men tall of stature, black of hue, armed; their burnished weapons
\nglittered fierily in the moonlight where it fell through gaps in the woodland leafage. Two hundred such armed men were sitting
\nthere, not one uttering a single word. The ascetic went slowly into their midst and made some signal, but not a man rose,
\nnone spoke, none made a sound. He passed in front of all, looking at each as he went, scanning every face in the gloom,
\nas if he were seeking someone he could not find. In his search he recognised one, touched him and made a sign, at which the<\/span><\/p>\n

\n <\/p>\n

\n

<\/p>\n

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\n

\n

other instantly rose. The ascetic took him to a distance and they stood and talked apart. The man was young; his handsome face
\nwore a thick black moustache and beard; his frame was full of strength; his whole presence beautiful and attractive. He wore
\nan ochre-coloured robe and on all his limbs the fairness and sweetness of sandal was smeared. The Brahmacharin said to
\nhim, “Bhavananda, have you any news of Mohendra Singha?” <\/span><\/p>\n

\n

Bhavananda answered, “Mohendra Singha and his wife and
\nchild left their house today; on the way, at the inn \u2014 ” <\/span><\/p>\n

\n

At this point the ascetic interrupted him, “I know what
\nhappened at the inn. Who did it?” <\/span><\/p>\n

\n

“Village rustics, I imagine. Just now the peasants of all the
\nvillages have turned dacoits from compulsion of hunger. And who is not a dacoit nowadays? Today we also have looted and
\neaten. Two maunds of rice belonging to the Chief of Police were on its way; we took and consecrated it to a devotee’s dinner.”
\n<\/span><\/p>\n

\n

The ascetic laughed and said, “I have rescued his wife and child from the thieves. I have just left them in the monastery.
\nNow it is your charge to find out Mohendra and deliver his wife and daughter into his keeping. Jivananda’s presence here will be
\nsufficient for the success of today’s business.” <\/span><\/p>\n

\n

Bhavananda undertook the mission and the ascetic departed
\nelsewhere.<\/span><\/p>\n

\n <\/p>\n

\n

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\n

\nChapter VII
\n<\/a>
\n<\/font><\/b><\/span><\/p>\n

\n <\/p>\n

\nM<\/font>OHENDRA<\/b> rose from the floor of the inn where he
\nwas sitting, for nothing could be gained by sitting there and thinking over his loss. He started in the
\ndirection of the town with the idea of taking the help of the officials in the search for his wife and child. After journeying
\nfor some distance he saw in the road a number of bullock-carts surrounded by a great company of sepoys.
\n<\/span><\/p>\n

\nIn the Bengali year 1175 the province of Bengal had not become subject to British administration. The English were then
\nthe revenue officials of Bengal. They collected the taxes due to the treasury, but up to that time they had not taken upon
\nthemselves the burden of protecting the life and property of the Bengali people. The burden they had accepted was to take the
\ncountry’s money; the responsibility of protecting life and property lay upon that despicable traitor and disgrace to humanity, Mirzafar. Mirzafar was incapable of protecting even himself; it was not likely that he would or could protect the people of
\nBengal. Mirzafar took opium and slept; the English raked in the rupees and wrote despatches; as for the people of Bengal they
\nwept and went to destruction. <\/span><\/p>\n

\nThe taxes of the province were therefore the due of the
\nEnglish, but the burden of administration was on the Nawab. Wherever the English themselves collected the taxes due to them,
\nthey had appointed a collector, but the revenue collected went to Calcutta. People might die of starvation, but the collection of
\ntheir monies did not stop for a moment. However, very much could not be collected: for if Mother Earth does not yield wealth,
\nno one can create wealth out of nothing. Be that as it may, the little that could be collected, had been made into cartloads and
\nwas on its way to the Company’s treasury at Calcutta in charge of a military escort. At this time there was great danger from dacoits, <\/span><\/p>\n

\n <\/p>\n

\n

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\n

\n

so fifty armed sepoys marched with fixed bayonets, ranked before and behind the carts. Their captain was an English soldier
\nwho went on horseback in the rear of the force. On account of the heat the sepoys did not march by day but only by night. As
\nthey marched, Mohendra’s progress was stopped by the treasure carts and this military array. Mohendra, seeing his way barred
\nby sepoys and carts, stood at the side of the road; but as the sepoys still jostled him in passing, holding this to be no fit time
\nfor debate, he went and stood at the edge of the jungle by the road.
\n<\/span><\/p>\n

\n

Then a sepoy said in Hindustani, “See, there’s a dacoit making off.” The sight of the gun in Mohendra’s hand confirmed
\nthis belief. He went for Mohendra, caught hold of his neck and, with the salutation “Rogue! thief!” suddenly gave him a blow of
\nthe fist and wrested the gun from his hand. Mohendra, empty-handed, merely returned the blow. Needless to say, Mohendra
\nwas something more than a little angry, and the worthy sepoy reeled with the blow and went down stunned on the road. Upon
\nthat, three or four sepoys came up, took hold of Mohendra and, dragging him forcibly to the commander, told the Saheb, “This
\nman has killed one of the sepoys.” The Saheb was smoking and a little bewildered with strong drink; he replied, “Catch hold of
\nthe rogue and marry him.” The soldiers did not understand how they were to marry an armed highwayman, but in the hope that,
\nwith the passing of the intoxication, the Saheb would change his mind and the marriage would not be forced on them, three
\nor four sepoys bound Mohendra hand and foot with the halters of the cart bullocks and lifted him into the cart. Mohendra saw
\nthat it would be vain to use force against so many, and, even if he could effect his escape by force, what was the use? Mohendra
\nwas depressed and sorrowful with grief for his wife and child and had no desire for life. The sepoys bound Mohendra securely
\nto the wheel of the cart. Then with a slow and heavy stride the escort proceeded on its march.<\/span><\/p>\n

\n <\/p>\n

\n

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\n

\nChapter VIII
\n<\/a>
\n<\/font><\/b><\/span><\/p>\n

\n <\/p>\n

\nP<\/font>OSSESSED<\/b> of the ascetic’s command, Bhavananda, softly
\ncrying the name of Hari, went in the direction of the inn where Mohendra had been sitting; for he thought it likely
\nthat there he would get a clue to Mohendra’s whereabouts. <\/span><\/p>\n

\nAt that time the present roads made by the English were
\nnot in existence. In order to come to Calcutta from the district towns, one had to travel by the marvellous roads laid down by
\nthe Mogul emperors. On his way from Padchinha to the town, Mohendra had been travelling from south to north, and it was
\ntherefore that he met the soldiers on the way. The direction Bhavananda had to take from the Hill of Palms towards the inn,
\nwas also from south to north; necessarily, he too on his way fell in with the sepoys in charge of the treasure. Like Mohendra, he
\nstood aside to let them pass. Now, for one thing, the soldiers naturally believed that the dacoits would be sure to attempt the
\nplunder of this despatch of treasure, and on that apprehension came the arrest of a dacoit in the very highway. When they saw
\nBhavananda too standing aside in the night-time, they inevitably concluded that here was another dacoit. Accordingly, they seized
\nhim on the spot. <\/span><\/p>\n

\nBhavananda smiled softly and said, “Why so, my good
\nfellow?” <\/span><\/p>\n

\n“Rogue!” answered a sepoy, “you are a robber.”
\n<\/span><\/p>\n

\n“You can very well see I am an ascetic wearing the yellow robe. Is this the appearance of a robber?”
\n<\/span><\/p>\n

\n“There are plenty of rascally ascetics and Sannyasins who rob,” retorted the sepoy, and he began to push and drag Bhavananda. Bhavananda’s eyes flashed in the darkness, but he only said very humbly, “Good master, let me know your commands.”
\n<\/span><\/p>\n

\nThe sepoy was pleased at Bhavananda’s politeness and said, “Here, rascal, take this load and carry it,” and he clapped a<\/span><\/p>\n

\n <\/p>\n

\n

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\n

\n

bundle on Bhavananda’s head. Then another of the sepoys said to the first, “No, he will run away; tie up the rascal on the cart
\nwhere the other rogue is bound.” Bhavananda grew curious to know who was the man they had bound; he threw away the
\nbundle on his head and administered a slap on the cheek to the soldier who had put it there. In consequence, the sepoys bound
\nBhavananda, lifted him on to the cart and flung him down near Mohendra. Bhavananda at once recognised Mohendra Singha.
\n<\/span><\/p>\n

\n

The sepoys again marched on, carelessly and with noise, and the creaking of the cartwheels recommenced. Then, softly
\nand in a voice audible only to Mohendra, Bhavananda said, “Mohendra Singha, I know you and am here to give you help.
\nThere is no need for you to know just at present who I am. Do very carefully what I tell you. Put the rope that ties your hands
\non the wheel of the cart.” <\/span><\/p>\n

\n

Mohendra, though astonished, carried out Bhavananda’s
\nsuggestion without a word. Moving a little towards the cartwheel under cover of darkness, he placed the rope that tied his
\nhands so as to just touch the wheel. The rope was gradually cut through by the friction of the wheel. Then he cut the rope on his
\nfeet by the same means. As soon as he was free of his bonds, by Bhavananda’s advice he lay inert on the cart. Bhavananda also
\nsevered his bonds by the same device. Both lay utterly still and motionless.
\n<\/span><\/p>\n

\n

The path of the soldiers took them precisely by the road where the Brahmacharin had stood in the highway near the
\njungle and gazed round him. As soon as they arrived near the hill, they saw under it, on the top of a mound, a man standing.
\nCatching sight of his dark figure silhouetted against the moonlit azure sky, the havildar said, “There is another of the rogues;
\ncatch him and bring here: he shall carry a load.” <\/span><\/p>\n

\n

At that a soldier went to catch the man, but, though he saw
\nthe fellow coming to lay hold on him, the watcher stood firm; he did not stir. When the soldier laid hands on him, he said
\nnothing. When he was brought as a prisoner to the havildar, even then he said nothing. The havildar ordered a load to be put
\non his head; a soldier put the load in place, he took it on his<\/span><\/p>\n

\n

 <\/p>\n

\n

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\n

\nhead. Then the havildar turned away and started marching with the cart. At this moment a pistol shot rang suddenly out and the
\nhavildar, pierced through the head, fell on the road and breathed his last. A soldier shouted, “This rascal has shot the havildar,”
\nand seized the luggage-bearer’s hand. The bearer had still the pistol in his grasp. He threw the load from him and struck the
\nsoldier on the head with the butt of his pistol; the man’s head broke and he dropped farther proceedings. Then with a cry of
\n“Hari! Hari! Hari!” two hundred armed men surrounded the soldiery. The men were at that moment awaiting the arrival of
\ntheir English captain, who, thinking the dacoits were on him, came swiftly up to the cart and gave the order to form a square;
\nfor an Englishman’s intoxication vanishes at the touch of danger. The sepoys immediately formed into a square facing four ways
\nand at a farther command of their captain lifted their guns in act to fire. At this critical moment someone wrested suddenly the
\nEnglishman’s sword from his belt and with one blow severed his head from his body. With the rolling of the Englishman’s head
\nfrom his shoulders the unspoken command to fire was silenced for ever. All looked and saw a man standing on the cart, sword
\nin hand, shouting loud the cry of “Hari, Hari” and calling “Kill, kill the soldiers.” It was Bhavananda.
\n<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\n The sudden sight of their captain headless and the failure of any officer to give the command for defensive action kept
\nthe soldiers for a few moments passive and appalled. The daring assailants took advantage of this opportunity to slay and wound
\nmany, reach the carts and take possession of the money chests. The soldiers lost courage, accepted defeat and took to flight.
\n\t<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\n \tThen the man who had stood on the mound and afterwards assumed the chief leadership of the attack, came to Bhavananda.
\nAfter a mutual embrace Bhavananda said, “Brother Jivananda, it was to good purpose that you took the vow of our brotherhood.” “Bhavananda,” replied Jivananda, “justified be your name.” Jivananda was charged with the office of arranging for
\nthe removal of the plundered treasure to its proper place and he swiftly departed with his following. Bhavananda alone remained
\nstanding on the field of action.<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n

\n <\/p>\n

\n

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\n

\nChapter IX
\n<\/a>
\n<\/font><\/b><\/span><\/p>\n

\n <\/p>\n

\nM<\/font>OHENDRA<\/b> had descended from the cart, wrested a
\nweapon from one of the sepoys and made ready to join in the fight. But at this moment it came home clearly
\nto him that these men were robbers and the plunder of the treasure the object of their attack on the soldiery. In obedience
\nto this idea he stood away from the scene of the fight, for to help the robbers meant to be a partner in their ill-doing. Then
\nhe flung the sword away and was slowly leaving the place when Bhavananda came and stood near him. Mohendra said to him,
\n“Tell me, who are you?” <\/span><\/p>\n

\nBhavananda replied, “What need have you to know that?”
\n<\/span><\/p>\n

\n“I have a need” said Mohendra. “You have done me today a very great service.”
\n<\/span><\/p>\n

\n“I hardly thought you realized it;” said Bhavananda, “you had a weapon in your hand and yet you stood apart. A landholder are you, and that’s a man good at being the death of milk and ghee, but when work has to be done, an ape.”
\n<\/span><\/p>\n

\nBefore Bhavananda had well finished his tirade, Mohendra answered with
\ncontempt and disgust, "But this is bad work, \u2014
\na robbery!” <\/span><\/p>\n

\n“Robbery or not,” retorted Bhavananda, “we have done
\nyou some little service and are willing to do you a little more.”
\n<\/span><\/p>\n

\n“You have done me some service, I own,” said Mohendra, “but what new service can you do me? And at a dacoit’s hands
\nI am better unhelped than helped.” <\/span><\/p>\n

\n“Whether you accept our proffered service or not,” said Bhavananda, “depends on your own choice. If you do choose to take it, come with me. I will bring you where you can meet your
\nwife and child.” <\/span><\/p>\n

\nMohendra turned and stood still. “What is that?” he cried.<\/span><\/p>\n

\n <\/p>\n

\n

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\n

\nBhavananda walked on without any reply, and Mohendra had no choice but to walk on with him, wondering in his heart
\nwhat new kind of robbers were these.<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n

\n <\/p>\n

\n

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\n

\nChapter X<\/a><\/font><\/span><\/b><\/p>\n

\n <\/p>\n

\nS<\/font><\/span><\/b>ILENTLY
\n<\/b>in the moonlit night the two crossed the open country. Mohendra was silent, sorrowful, full of pride, but also a little curious. <\/span><\/p>\n

\nSuddenly Bhavananda’s whole aspect changed. No longer was he the ascetic, serious of aspect, calm of mood; no longer the skilful fighter, the heroic figure of the man who had beheaded the English captain with the sweep of a sword; no longer had he that aspect with which even now he had proudly rebuked Mohendra. It was as if the sight of that beauty of
\nplain and forest, river and numerous  streams, all the moonlit peaceful earth, had stirred his heart with a great gladness; it was as if Ocean were laughing in the moonbeams. Bhavananda became smiling, eloquent, courteous of speech. He grew very eager to talk and made many efforts to open a conversation, but Mohendra would not speak. Then Bhavananda, having no other resource, began  to sing to himself.<\/span><\/p>\n

\n <\/p>\n

\n“Mother, I bow to thee!<\/span><\/p>\n

\nRich with thy hurrying streams,<\/span><\/p>\n

\nBright with thy orchard gleams,<\/span><\/p>\n

\nCool with thy winds of delight,<\/span><\/p>\n

\nDark fields waving, Mother of might,<\/span><\/p>\n

\nMother free!”<\/span><\/p>\n

\n <\/p>\n

\nThe song astonished Mohendra and he could understand nothing of it. Who might be this richly watered, richly fruited Mother, cool with delightful winds and dark with the harvests? “What Mother?” he asked.<\/span><\/p>\n

\nBhavananda without any answer continued his song.<\/span><\/p>\n

\n <\/p>\n

\n“Glory of moonlight dreams<\/span><\/p>\n

\nOver thy beaches and lordly streams;<\/span><\/p>\n

\n <\/p>\n

\n

<\/p>\n

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\n

\nClad in thy blossoming trees,<\/span><\/p>\n

\nMother, giver of ease,<\/span><\/p>\n

\nLaughing low and sweet!<\/span><\/p>\n

\nMother, I kiss thy feet,<\/span><\/p>\n

\nSpeaker sweet and low!<\/span><\/p>\n

\nMother, to thee I bow.”<\/span><\/p>\n

\n <\/p>\n

\nMohendra said, “That is the country, it  is not the Mother.” <\/span><\/p>\n

\nBhavananda replied, “We recognize no other Mother. Mother and Motherland is more than heaven itself.’ We say the motherland is our mother. We have neither mother nor father nor brother nor friend, wife nor son nor house nor home. We have her alone, the richly-watered, richly-
\nfruited, cool with delightful winds, rich with harvests \u2014 ” <\/span><\/p>\n

\nThen Mohendra understood and said, “Sing it again.” Bhavananda sang once more. <\/span><\/p>\n

\n <\/p>\n

\nMother, I bow to thee!<\/span><\/p>\n

\nRich with thy hurrying streams,<\/span><\/p>\n

\nBright with thy orchard gleams,<\/span><\/p>\n

\nCool with thy winds of delight,<\/span><\/p>\n

\nDark fields waving, Mother of might,<\/span><\/p>\n

\nMother free.<\/span><\/p>\n

\nGlory of moonlight dreams<\/span><\/p>\n

\nOver thy beaches and lordly streams;<\/span><\/p>\n

\nClad in thy blossoming trees,<\/span><\/p>\n

\nMother, giver of ease,<\/span><\/p>\n

\nLaughing low and sweet!<\/span><\/p>\n

\nMother, I kiss thy feet,<\/span><\/p>\n

\nSpeaker sweet and low!<\/span><\/p>\n

\nMother, to thee I bow.<\/span><\/p>\n

\n <\/p>\n

\nWho hath said thou art weak in thy lands,<\/span><\/p>\n

\nWhen the swords flash out in seventy million hands<\/span><\/p>\n

\nAnd seventy million voices roar<\/span><\/p>\n

\nThy dreadful name from shore to shore?<\/span><\/p>\n

\nWith many strengths who art mighty and stored,<\/span><\/p>\n

\nTo thee I call, Mother and Lord!<\/span><\/p>\n

\n <\/p>\n

\n

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\n

\n

Thou who savest, arise and save!<\/span><\/p>\n

\nTo her I cry who ever her foemen drave<\/span><\/p>\n

\nBack from plain and sea<\/span><\/p>\n

\nAnd shook herself free.<\/span><\/p>\n

\n <\/p>\n

\nThou art wisdom, thou art law,<\/span><\/p>\n

\nThou our heart, our soul, our breath,<\/span><\/p>\n

\nThou the love divine, the awe<\/span><\/p>\n

\nIn our hearts that conquers death.<\/span><\/p>\n

\nThine the strength that nerves the arm,<\/span><\/p>\n

\nThine the beauty, thine the charm.<\/span><\/p>\n

\nEvery image made divine<\/span><\/p>\n

\nIn our temples is but thine.<\/span><\/p>\n

\nThou art Durga, Lady and Queen,<\/span><\/p>\n

\nWith her hands that strike and her swords of sheen,<\/span><\/p>\n

\nThou art Lakshmi lotus-throned,<\/span><\/p>\n

\nAnd the Muse a hundred-toned.<\/span><\/p>\n

\n <\/p>\n

\nPure and perfect, without peer,<\/span><\/p>\n

\nMother, lend thine ear.<\/span><\/p>\n

\nRich with thy hurrying streams,<\/span><\/p>\n

\nBright with thy orchard gleams,<\/span><\/p>\n

\nDark of hue, O candid-fair<\/span><\/p>\n

\nIn thy soul, with jewelled hair<\/span><\/p>\n

\nAnd thy glorious smile divine,<\/span><\/p>\n

\nLoveliest of all earthly lands,<\/span><\/p>\n

\nShowering wealth from well-stored hands!<\/span><\/p>\n

\nMother, mother mine!<\/span><\/p>\n

\nMother sweet, I bow to thee,<\/span><\/p>\n

\nMother great and free!<\/span><\/p>\n

\n <\/p>\n

\nMohendra saw the robber as he sang shedding tears. In wonder he asked, “Who are you?” <\/span><\/p>\n

\nBhavananda replied, “We are the Children.”<\/span><\/p>\n

\n“What is meant by the Children? asked Mohendra. “Whose children are you?” <\/span><\/p>\n

\nBhavananda replied, “The children of the Mother.” <\/span><\/p>\n

\n

 <\/p>\n

\n

Page \u2013 498<\/font><\/span><\/p>\n

\n

\n“Good;” said Mohendra, “do the children worship their
\nmother with theft and looting? What kind of filial piety is that?”
\n<\/span><\/p>\n

\n“We do not thieve and loot,” answered Bhavananda.
\n<\/span><\/p>\n

\n“Why, just now you plundered the carts.”
\n<\/span><\/p>\n

\n“Is that theft and looting? Whose money did we plunder?”
\n<\/span><\/p>\n

\n“Why, the ruler’s.”
\n<\/span><\/p>\n

\n“The ruler’s! What right has he to the money, that he should
\ntake it?”
\n<\/span><\/p>\n

\n“It is his royal share of the wealth of the country.”
\n<\/span><\/p>\n

\n“Who rules and does not protect his kingdom, is he a ruler
\nat all?”
\n<\/span><\/p>\n

\n“I see you will be blown one day from the cannon’s mouth
\nby the sepoys.”
\n<\/span><\/p>\n

\n“I have seen your rascal sepoys more than once: I dealt with
\nsome today too.”
\n<\/span><\/p>\n

\n“Oh, that was not a real experience of them; one day you
\nwill get it.”
\n<\/span><\/p>\n

\n“Suppose it is so, a man can only die once.”
\n<\/span><\/p>\n

\n“But what profit is there in going out of one’s way to die?”
\n<\/span><\/p>\n

\n“Mohendra Singha,” said Bhavananda, “I had a kind of
\nidea that you were a man worth the name, but now I see you are
\nwhat all the rest of them are, merely the death of ghee and milk.
\nLook you, the snake crawls on the ground and is the lowest of
\nliving things, but put your foot on the snake’s neck and even he
\nwill rise with lifted hood. Can nothing overthrow your patience
\nthen? Look at all the countries you know, Magadh, Mithila,
\nKashi, Kanchi, Delhi, Cashmere, in what other country do men
\nfrom starvation eat grass? eat thorns? eat the earth white ants
\nhave gathered? eat the creepers of the forest? where else are men
\nforced to eat dogs and jackals, yes, even the bodies of the dead?
\nwhere else can men have no ease of heart because of fear for
\nthe money in their chests, the household gods on their sacred
\nseats, the young women in their homes, the unborn children
\nin the women’s wombs? Ay, here they rip open the womb and
\ntear out the child. In every country the relation with the ruler
\nis that of protector and protected, but what protection do our
\nMussulman rulers give us? Our religion is destroyed, our caste<\/span><\/p>\n

\n <\/p>\n

\n

<\/p>\n

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\n

\n

defiled, our honour polluted, our family honour shamed and
\nnow our very lives are going the same way. Unless we drive out
\nthese vice-besodden long-beards, the Hinduism of the Hindu is
\ndoomed.”
\n<\/span><\/p>\n

\n

“How will you drive them out?” asked Mohendra.
\n<\/span><\/p>\n

\n

“By blows.”
\n<\/span><\/p>\n

\n

“You will drive them out single-handed? With one slap, I
\nsuppose.”
\n<\/span><\/p>\n

\n

The robber sang:
\n<\/span><\/p>\n

\n

 <\/p>\n

\n

“Who hath said thou art weak in thy lands,
\n<\/span><\/p>\n

\n

When the swords flash out in seventy million hands
\n<\/span><\/p>\n

\n

And seventy million voices roar
\n<\/span><\/p>\n

\n

Thy dreadful name from shore to shore?”
\n<\/span><\/p>\n

\n

 <\/p>\n

\n

“But” said Mohendra, “I see you are alone.”
\n<\/span><\/p>\n

\n

“Why, just now you saw two hundred men.”
\n<\/span><\/p>\n

\n

“Are they all Children?”
\n<\/span><\/p>\n

\n

“They are all Children.”
\n<\/span><\/p>\n

\n

“How many more are there of them?”
\n<\/span><\/p>\n

\n

“Thousands like these, and by degrees there will be yet
\nmore!”
\n<\/span><\/p>\n

\n

“Even if there were ten or twenty thousand, will you be able
\nwith that number to take the throne from the Mussulman?”
\n<\/span><\/p>\n

\n

“What army had the English at Plassey?”
\n<\/span><\/p>\n

\n

“Can Englishmen and Bengalis be compared?”
\n<\/span><\/p>\n

\n

“Why not? What does physical strength matter? Greater
\nphysical strength will not make the bullet fly farther.”
\n<\/span><\/p>\n

\n

“Then,” asked Mohendra, “why is there such a difference
\nbetween an Englishman and a Mussulman?”
\n<\/span><\/p>\n

\n

“Take this first;” said Bhavananda, “an Englishman will
\nnot run away even from the certainty of death. A Mussulman
\nruns as soon as he perspires and roams in search of a glass
\nof sherbet. Next take this, that the Englishman has tenacity; if
\nhe takes up a thing, he carries it through. “Don’t care” is a
\nMussulman’s motto. He is giving his life for a hire, and yet the
\nsoldiers don’t get their pay. Then the last thing is courage. A
\ncannon ball can fall only in one place, not in ten; so there is<\/span><\/p>\n

\n

 <\/p>\n

\n

<\/p>\n

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\n

\nno necessity for two hundred men to run from one cannon ball.
\nBut one cannon ball will send a Mussulman with his whole clan
\nrunning, while a whole clan of cannon balls will not put even a
\nsolitary Englishman to flight.”
\n<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\n “Have you all these virtues?” asked Mohendra.
\n<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\n “No,” said Bhavananda, “but virtues don’t fall from the
\nnearest tree. You have to practise them.”
\n<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\n “Do you practise them?”
\n<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\n “Do you not see we are sannyasins? It is for this practice
\nthat we have made renunciation. When our work is done, when
\nour training is complete, we shall again become householders.
\nWe also have wives and daughters.”
\n<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\n “You have abandoned all those ties, but have you been able
\nto overcome Maya?”
\n<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\n “The Children are not allowed to speak falsely and I will
\nnot make a lying boast to you. Who has the strength to conquer
\nMaya? When a man says, I have conquered Maya’, either he
\nnever had any feeling or he is making a vain boast. We have not
\nconquered Maya, we are only keeping our vow. Will you be one
\nof the Children?”
\n<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\n “Until I get news of my wife and daughter, I cannot say
\nanything.”
\n<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\n “Come then, you shall see your wife and child.”
\n<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\n The two went on their way; and Bhavananda began again
\nto sing Bande Mataram.
\n<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\n Mohendra had a good voice and was a little proficient in
\nsinging and fond of it; therefore he joined in the song, and found
\nthat as he sang the tears came into his eyes. Then Mohendra said,
\n“If I have not to abandon my wife and daughter, then initiate
\nme into this vow.”
\n<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\n \t“Whoever” answered Bhavananda, “takes this vow, must
\nabandon wife and child. If you take this vow, you cannot be
\nallowed to meet your wife and daughter. Suitable arrangements
\nwill be made for their protection, but until the vow is crowned
\nwith success, to look upon their faces is forbidden.”
\n<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\n \t“I will not take your vow,” answered Mohendra.<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n

\n 
\n<\/span><\/p>\n

\n

<\/p>\n

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\n

\nChapter XI
\n<\/a><\/b><\/span><\/p>\n

\n <\/p>\n

\nT<\/font>HE DAY <\/b>had dawned. That unpeopled forest, so long
\ndark and silent, now grew full of light, blissful with the
\ncooing and calling of the birds. In that delightful dawn,
\nthat joyous forest, that “Monastery of Bliss” Satyananda, seated
\non a deerskin, was performing his morning devotions. Jivananda
\nsat near. It was at such a time that Bhavananda appeared with
\nMohendra Singha behind. The ascetic without a word continued
\nhis devotions and no one ventured to utter a sound. When the
\ndevotions were finished, Bhavananda and Jivananda saluted him
\nand with humility seated themselves after taking the dust of his
\nfeet. Then Satyananda beckoned to Bhavananda and took him
\noutside. What conversation took place between them, we do
\nnot know, but on the return of the two into the temple the
\nascetic, with compassion and laughter in his countenance, said
\nto Mohendra, “My son, I have been greatly distressed by your
\nmisfortune; it was only by the grace of the Friend of the poor and
\nmiserable that I was able to rescue your wife and daughter last
\nnight.” The ascetic then told Mohendra the story of Kalyani’s
\nrescue and said at the end, “Come, let me take you where they
\nare.”
\n<\/span><\/p>\n

\nThe ascetic in front, Mohendra behind entered into the inner
\nprecincts of the temple. Mohendra beheld a wide and lofty hall.
\nEven in this cheerful dawn, glad with the youth of the morning,
\nwhen the neighbouring groves glittered in the sunshine as if set
\nand studded with diamonds, in this great room there was almost
\na gloom as of night. Mohendra could not at first see what was in
\nthe room, but by gazing and gazing and still gazing he was able
\nto distinguish a huge image of the four-armed Vishnu, bearing
\nthe shell, the discus, the club, the lotus-blossom, adorned with
\nthe jewel Coustoobh on his breast; in front the discus called
\nSudarshan, the Beautiful, seemed visibly to be whirling round.<\/span><\/p>\n

\n <\/p>\n

\n

<\/p>\n

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\n

\nTwo huge headless images representing Madhu and Kaitabh
\nwere painted before the figure, as if bathed in their own blood.
\nOn the left stood Lakshmi with flowing locks garlanded with
\nwreaths of hundred-petalled lotuses, as if distressed with fear.
\nOn the right stood Saraswati surrounded by books, musical
\ninstruments, the incarnate strains and symphonies of music. On
\nVishnu’s lap sat an image of enchanting beauty, lovelier than
\nLakshmi and Saraswati, more splendid with opulence and lord
\nship. The Gandharva and Kinnara and God and elf and giant
\npaid her homage. The ascetic asked Mohendra in a voice of deep
\nsolemnity and awe, “Can you see all?” “Yes” replied Mohendra.
\n<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\n “Have you seen what is in the lap of Vishnu?” asked the
\nascetic.
\n<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\n “Yes,” answered Mohendra, “who is she?” <\/span> <\/p>\n

\n “It is the Mother.”
\n<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\n “What mother?”
\n<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\n “She whose children we are,” replied the ascetic.
\n<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\n “Who is she?”
\n<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\n “In time you will recognise her. Cry Hail to the Mother!’
\nNow come, you shall see.”
\n<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\n The ascetic took Mohendra into another room. There he
\nsaw an image of Jagaddhatri, Protectress of the world, wonderful, perfect, rich with every ornament. “Who is she?” asked
\nMohendra. <\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\n The Brahmacharin replied, “The Mother as she was.”
\n<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\n “What is that?” asked Mohendra.
\n<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\n “She trampled underfoot the elephants of the forest and
\nall wild beasts and in the haunt of the wild beasts she erected
\nher lotus throne. She was covered with every ornament, full of
\nlaughter and beauty. She was in hue like the young sun, splendid
\nwith all opulence and empire. Bow down to the Mother.” <\/span> <\/p>\n

\n Mohendra saluted reverently the image of the Motherland
\nas the protectress of the world. The Brahmacharin then showed
\nhim a dark underground passage and said, “Come by this way.”
\nMohendra with some alarm followed him. In a dark room in
\nthe bowels of the earth an insufficient light entered from some
\nunperceived outlet. By that faint light he saw an image of Kali.<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n

\n <\/p>\n

\n

<\/p>\n

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\n

\n

The Brahmacharin said, “Look on the Mother as she now
\nis.”
\n<\/span><\/p>\n

\n

Mohendra said in fear, “It is Kali.”
\n<\/span><\/p>\n

\n

“Yes, Kali enveloped in darkness, full of blackness and
\ngloom. She is stripped of all, therefore naked. Today the whole
\ncountry is a burial ground, therefore is the Mother garlanded
\nwith skulls. Her own God she tramples under her feet. Alas, my
\nMother!”
\n<\/span><\/p>\n

\n

The tears began to stream from the ascetic’s eyes.
\n<\/span><\/p>\n

\n

“Why,” asked Mohendra, “has she in her hands the club
\nand the skull?”
\n<\/span><\/p>\n

\n

“We are the Children, we have only just given weapons into
\nour Mother’s hands. Cry Hail to the Mother!'”
\n<\/span><\/p>\n

\n

Mohendra said “Bande Mataram” and bowed down to Kali.
\n<\/span><\/p>\n

\n

The ascetic said “Come by this way”, and began to ascend
\nanother underground passage. Suddenly the rays of the morning
\nsun shone in their eyes and from every side the sweet-voiced
\nfamily of birds shrilled in song. In a wide temple built in stone of
\nmarble they saw a beautifully fashioned image of the Ten-armed
\nGoddess made in gold, laughing and radiant in the light of the
\nearly sun. The ascetic saluted the image and said, “This is the
\nMother as she shall be. Her ten arms are extended towards the
\nten regions and they bear many a force imaged in her manifold
\nweapons; her enemies are trampled under her feet and the lion
\non which her foot rests, is busy destroying the foe. Behold her,
\nwith the regions for her arms,”
\n\u2014 as he spoke, Satyananda began
\nto sob, \u2014 “with the regions for her arms, wielder of manifold
\nweapons, trampler down of her foes, with the lion-heart for the
\nsteed of her riding; on her right Lakshmi as Prosperity, on her
\nleft Speech, giver of learning and science, Kartikeya with her as
\nStrength, Ganesh as Success. Come, let us both bow down to the
\nMother.” Both with lifted faces and folded hands began to cry
\nwith one voice, “O auspicious with all well-omened things, O
\nthou ever propitious, who effectest all desire, O refuge of men,
\nthree-eyed and fair of hue, O Energy of Narayan, salutation to
\nthee.”
\n<\/span><\/p>\n

\n

The two men bowed down with awe and love, and when<\/span><\/p>\n

\n <\/p>\n

\n

<\/p>\n

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\n

\nthey rose, Mohendra asked in a broken voice, “When shall I see
\nthis image of the Mother?” “When all the Mother’s sons” replied
\nthe Brahmacharin, “learn to call the Mother by that name, on
\nthat day the Mother will be gracious to us.”
\n<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\n Suddenly Mohendra asked, “Where are my wife and daughter?”
\n\t<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\n “Come” said the ascetic, “you shall see them.”
\n<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\n “I wish to see them once and say farewell.”
\n<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\n “Why should you say farewell?”
\n<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\n “I shall take up this mighty vow.”
\n<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\n “Where will you send them to?” <\/span> <\/p>\n

\n Mohendra thought for a little and then said, “There is no
\none in my house and I have no other place. Yet in this time of
\nfamine, what other place can I find?”
\n<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\n “Go out of the temple,” said the ascetic, “by the way by
\nwhich you came here. At the door of the temple you will see your
\nwife and child. Up to this moment Kalyani has eaten nothing.
\nYou will find articles of food in the place where they are sitting.
\nWhen you have made her eat, do whatever you please; at present
\nyou will not again meet any of us. If this mind of yours holds,
\nat the proper time I shall show myself to you.”
\n<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\n Then suddenly by some path unknown the ascetic vanished
\nfrom the place. Mohendra went forth by the way pointed out to
\nhim and saw Kalyani with her daughter sitting in the court of
\nmeeting.
\n<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\n Satyananda on his side descended by another underground
\npassage into a secret cellar under the earth. There Jivananda and
\nBhavananda sat counting rupees and arranging them in piles.
\nIn that room gold, silver, copper, diamonds, coral, pearls were
\narrayed in heaps. It was the money looted on the previous night
\nthey were arranging. Satyananda, as he entered the room, said,
\n“Jivananda, Mohendra will come to us. If he comes, it will be
\na great advantage to the Children, for in that case the wealth
\naccumulated in his family from generation to generation will be
\ndevoted to the Mother’s service. But so long as he is not body
\nand soul devoted to the Mother, do not take him into the order.
\nAs soon as the work you have in hand is completed, follow him<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n

\n <\/p>\n

\n

<\/p>\n

Page \u2013 505<\/font><\/span><\/p>\n

\n

\n

at various times and when you see it is the proper season, bring
\nhim to the temple of Vishnu. And in season or out of season
\nprotect their lives. For even as the punishment of the wicked is
\nthe duty of the Children, so is the protection of the good equally
\ntheir duty.”<\/span><\/p>\n

\n <\/p>\n

\n

<\/p>\n

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\n

\nChapter XII
\n<\/a>
\n<\/font><\/b><\/span><\/p>\n

\n <\/p>\n

\nI<\/font>T WAS <\/b>after much tribulation that Mohendra and Kalyani
\nmet again. Kalyani flung herself down and wept, Mohendra
\nwept even more than she. The weeping over, there was much
\nado of wiping the eyes, for as often as the eyes were wiped, the
\ntears began to come again. But when at last the tears had ceased
\nto come, the thought of food occurred to Kalyani. She asked
\nMohendra to partake of the food which the ascetic’s followers
\nhad kept with her. In this time of famine there was no chance
\nof ordinary food and vegetables, but whatever there was in the
\ncountry, was to be had in plenty among the Children. That forest
\nwas inaccessible to ordinary men. Wherever there was a tree with
\nfruit upon it, famishing men stripped it of what it bore, but none
\nother than the Children had access to the fruit of the trees in this
\nimpenetrable wilderness. For this reason the ascetic’s followers
\nhad been able to bring for Kalyani plenty of forest fruits and
\nsome milk. In the property of the Sannyasin were included a
\nnumber of cows. At Kalyani’s request, Mohendra first took some
\nfood, afterwards Kalyani sat apart and ate something of what he
\nhad left. She gave some of the milk to her child and kept the rest
\nto feed her with again. Then both of them, overcome with sleep,
\ntook rest for a while. When they woke, they began to discuss
\nwhere they should go next. “We left home” said Kalyani “in
\nfear of danger and misfortune, but I now see there are greater
\ndangers and misfortunes abroad than at home. Come then, let us
\nreturn to our own house.” That also was Mohendra’s intention.
\nIt was his wish to keep Kalyani at home under the care of some
\nsuitable guardian and take upon himself this beautiful, pure
\nand divine vow of service to the Mother. Therefore he gave his
\nconsent very readily. The husband and wife, rested from fatigue,
\ntook their daughter in their arms and set forth in the direction
\nof Padchinha.<\/span><\/p>\n

\n <\/p>\n

\n

<\/p>\n

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\n

\n

But what way led to Padchinha, they could not at all make
\nout in that thick and difficult forest. They had thought that once
\nthey could find the way out of the wood, they would be able to
\nfind the road. But now they could not find the way out of the
\nwood itself. After long wandering in the thickets, their circlings
\nbegan to bring them round to the monastery once more, no way
\nof exit could be found. In front of them they saw an unknown
\nascetic in the dress of a Vaishnav Gosain, who stood in the path
\nand laughed at them. Mohendra, in some irritation, said to him,
\n“What are you laughing at, Gosain?”
\n<\/span><\/p>\n

\n

“How did you enter the forest?” asked the Gosain.<\/span><\/p>\n

\n

“Well, we have entered it, it does not matter how.”
\n<\/span><\/p>\n

\n

“Then, when you have entered, how is it you cannot get out
\nagain?” So saying, the ascetic resumed his laughter.
\n<\/span><\/p>\n

\n

“Since you laugh,” said Mohendra, much provoked, “I
\npresume you can yourself get out?”
\n<\/span><\/p>\n

\n

“Follow me,” said the Vaishnav, “I will show you the way.
\nYou must undoubtedly have entered the forest in the company
\nof some one of the ascetics. No one else knows the way either
\ninto or out of the forest.”
\n<\/span><\/p>\n

\n

On this Mohendra asked, “Are you one of the Children?”
\n<\/span><\/p>\n

\n

“I am” answered the Vaishnav. “Come with me. It is to
\nshow you the way that I am standing here.”
\n<\/span><\/p>\n

\n

“What is your name?” asked Mohendra.
\n<\/span><\/p>\n

\n

“My name” replied the Vaishnav “is Dhirananda Go
\nswami.”
\n<\/span><\/p>\n

\n

Dhirananda proceeded in front, Mohendra and Kalyani followed. Dhirananda took them out of the forest by a very difficult
\npath and again plunged back among the trees.
\n<\/span><\/p>\n

\n

On leaving the forest one came after a little to a common
\nwith trees. To one side of it there was the highway running
\nalong the forest, and in one place a little river flowed out of the
\nwoodland with a murmuring sound. Its water was very clear,
\nbut dark like a thick cloud. On either bank beautiful dark-green
\ntrees of many kinds threw their shadow over the river and in
\ntheir branches birds of different families sat and gave forth their
\nvarious notes. Those notes too were sweet and mingled with the<\/span><\/p>\n

\n

 <\/p>\n

\n

<\/p>\n

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\n

\nsweet cadence of the stream. With a similar harmony the shadow
\nof the trees agreed and mingled with the colour of the stream.
\nKalyani sat under a tree on the bank and bade her husband
\nsit near. Mohendra sat down, and she took her child from her
\nhusband’s lap into her own. Kalyani held her husband’s hand in
\nhers and for some time sat in silence, then she asked, “Today I
\nsee that you are very melancholy. The calamity that was on us,
\nwe have escaped; why then are you so sad?”
\n<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\n Mohendra answered with a deep sigh, “I am no longer my
\nown man, and what I am to do, I cannot understand.”
\n<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\n “Why?” asked Kalyani.
\n<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\n “Hear what happened to me after I lost you,” said Mohendra, and he gave a detailed account of all that had happened to
\nhim. <\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\n Kalyani said, “I too have suffered greatly and gone through
\nmany misadventures. It will be of no advantage to you to hear
\nit. I cannot say how I managed to sleep in such exceeding misadventure, but today in the early hours of the morning I fell asleep,
\nand in my sleep I saw a dream. I saw \u2014 I cannot say by what
\nforce of previous good works I went there,
\n\u2014 but I saw myself
\nin a region of wonder, where there was no solid Earth, but only
\nlight, a very soft sweet light as if of a cool lustre broken by
\nclouds. There was no human being there, only luminous forms,
\nno noise, only a sound as if of sweet song and music at a great
\ndistance. Myriads of flowers seemed to be ever newly in bloom,
\nfor the scent of them was there, jasmines of many kinds and
\nother sweet-smelling blossoms. There in a place high over all,
\nthe cynosure of all, one seemed to be sitting, like a dark blue hill
\nthat has grown bright as fire and burns softly from within. A
\ngreat fiery crown was on his head, his arms seemed to be four.
\nThose who sat at either side of him, I could not recognize, but
\nI think they were women in their forms, but so full of beauty,
\nlight and fragrance that every time I gazed in that direction,
\nmy senses were perplexed, I could not fix my gaze nor see who
\nthey were. In front of the Four-Armed another woman’s form
\nseemed to be standing. She too was luminous, but surrounded
\nby clouds so that the light could not well manifest itself; it could<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n

\n <\/p>\n

\n

<\/p>\n

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\n

\n

only be dimly realised that one in the form of a woman wept,
\none full of heart’s distress, one worn and thin, but beautiful
\nexceedingly. It seemed to me that a soft fragrant wind carried
\nme along, pushing me as with waves, till it brought me to the
\nfoot of the Four-Armed’s throne. It seemed to me that the worn
\nand cloud-besieged woman pointed to me and said, This is
\nshe, for whose sake Mohendra will not come to my bosom.’
\nThen there was a sound like the sweet clear music of a flute; it
\nseemed that the Four-Armed said to me, Leave your husband
\nand come to Me. This is your Mother, your husband will serve
\nher; but if you stay at your husband’s side, that service cannot be
\ngiven. Come away to Me.’ I wept and said, How shall I come,
\nleaving my husband?’ Then the flutelike voice came again, I am
\nhusband, father, mother, son, daughter; come to Me.’ I do not
\nremember what I said. Then I woke.” Kalyani spoke and was
\nagain silent.
\n<\/span><\/p>\n

\n

Mohendra also, astonished, amazed, alarmed, kept silence.
\nOverhead the doyel began its clamour, the papia flooded heaven
\nwith its voice, the call of the cuckoo set the regions echoing, the
\nbhringaraj made the grove quiver with its sweet cry. At their feet
\nthe stream murmured softly between its banks. The wind carried
\nto them the soft fragrance of the woodland flowers. In places
\nbits of sunlight glittered on the waves of the rivulet. Somewhere
\npalm-leaves rustled in the slow wind. Far off a blue range of
\nmountains met the eye. For a long time they remained silent in
\ndelight. Then Kalyani again asked, “What are you thinking?”
\n<\/span><\/p>\n

\n

“I am thinking what I should do. The dream is nothing but
\na thought of fear, it is born of itself in the mind and of itself it
\ndisappears, \u2014 a bubble from the waking life. Come, let us go
\nhome.”
\n<\/span><\/p>\n

\n

“Go where God bids you,” said Kalyani and put her child
\nin her husband’s lap.
\n<\/span><\/p>\n

\n

Mohendra took his daughter in his lap and said, “And you,
\n\u2014 where will you go?”
\n<\/span><\/p>\n

\n

Kalyani, covering her eyes with her hands and pressing her
\nforehead between them, answered, “I too will go where God has
\nbid me.”<\/span><\/p>\n

\n <\/p>\n

\n

<\/p>\n

Page \u2013 510<\/font><\/span><\/p>\n

\n

\nMohendra started and said, “Where is that? How will you
\ngo?”
\n<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nKalyani showed him the small box of poison.
\n<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nMohendra said in astonishment, “What, you will take poi
\nson?”
\n<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\n“I meant to take it, but \u2014 ” Kalyani became silent and began
\nto think. Mohendra kept his gaze on her face and every moment
\nseemed to him a year, but when he saw that she did not complete
\nher unfinished words, he asked, “But what? What were you
\ngoing to say?”
\n<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\n“I meant to take it, but leaving you behind, leaving Sukumari behind, I have no wish to go to Paradise itself. I will not
\ndie.” <\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nWith the words Kalyani set down the box on the earth.
\nThen the two began to talk of the past and future and became
\nabsorbed in their talk. Taking advantage of their absorption the
\nchild in her play took up the box of poison. Neither of them
\nobserved it.
\n<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nSukumari thought, “This is a very fine toy.” She held it in
\nher left hand and slapped it well with her right, put it in her
\nright, and slapped it with her left. Then she began pulling at it
\nwith both hands. As a result the box opened and the pill fell
\nout.
\n<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nSukumari saw the little pill fall on her father’s cloth and
\ntook it for another toy. She threw the box away and pounced
\non the pill.
\n<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\nHow it was that Sukumari had not put the box into her
\nmouth, it is hard to say, but she made no delay in respect of the
\npill. “Eat it as soon as you get it;” \u2014 Sukumari crammed the
\npill into her mouth. At that moment her mother’s attention was
\nattracted to her.
\n<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\n“What has she eaten? What has she eaten?” cried Kalyani,
\nand she thrust her finger into the child’s mouth. Then both saw
\nthat the box of poison was lying empty. Then Sukumari, thinking
\nthat here was another game, clenched her teeth, \u2014 only a few
\nhad just come out,
\n\u2014 and smiled in her mother’s face. By this
\ntime the taste of the poison-pill must have begun to feel bitter in<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n

\n <\/p>\n

\n

<\/p>\n

Page \u2013 511<\/font><\/span><\/p>\n

\n

\n

the mouth, for a little after she loosened the clench of her teeth
\nof herself and Kalyani took out the pill and threw it away. The
\nchild began to cry.
\n<\/span><\/p>\n

\n

The pill fell on the ground. Kalyani dipped the loose end of
\nher robe in the stream and poured the water into her daughter’s
\nmouth. In a tone of pitiful anxiety she asked Mohendra, “Has
\na little of it gone down her throat?”
\n<\/span><\/p>\n

\n

It is the worst that comes first to a parent’s mind,
\n\u2014 the
\ngreater the love, the greater the fear. Mohendra had not seen
\nhow large the pill was before, but now, after taking the pill into
\nhis hand and scrutinising it for some time, he said, “I think she
\nhas sucked in a good deal of it.”
\n<\/span><\/p>\n

\n

Necessarily, Kalyani adopted Mohendra’s belief. For a long
\ntime she too held the pill in her hand and examined it. Mean
\nwhile the child, owing to the little she had swallowed, became a
\nlittle indisposed; she grew restless, cried, at last grew a little dull
\nand feeble. Then Kalyani said to her husband, “What more?
\nSukumari has gone the way God called me to go. I too must
\nfollow her.”
\n<\/span><\/p>\n

\n

And with the words Kalyani put the pill into her mouth and
\nin a moment had swallowed it.
\n<\/span><\/p>\n

\n

Mohendra cried out, “What have you done, Kalyani, what
\nhave you done?”
\n<\/span><\/p>\n

\n

Kalyani returned no answer, but taking the dust of her husband’s feet on her head, only said, “Lord and Master, words will
\nonly multiply words. I take farewell.”
\n<\/span><\/p>\n

\n

But Mohendra cried out again, “Kalyani, what have you
\ndone?” and began to weep aloud. Then Kalyani said in a very
\nsoft voice, “I have done well. You might otherwise neglect the
\nwork given you by Heaven for the sake of so worthless a thing as
\na woman. See, I was transgressing a divine command, therefore
\nmy child has been taken from me. If I disregarded it farther, you
\ntoo might go.”
\n<\/span><\/p>\n

\n

Mohendra replied with tears, “I could have kept you some
\nwhere and come back, \u2014 when our work had been accomplished, I could have again been happy with you. Kalyani, my
\nall! Why have you done this thing? You have cut from me the<\/span><\/p>\n

\n <\/p>\n

\n

<\/p>\n

Page \u2013 512<\/font><\/span><\/p>\n

\n

\nhand by whose strength I could have held the sword. What am
\nI without you?”
\n<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\n “Where could you have taken me? Where is there any place?
\nMother, father, friends, all in this terrible time of calamity have
\nperished. In whose house is there any place for us, where is the
\nroad we can travel, where will you take me? I am a burden
\nhanging on your neck. I have done well to die. Give me this
\nblessing that when I have gone to that luminous world, I may
\nagain see you.” With the words Kalyani again took the dust of
\nher husband’s feet and placed it on her head. Mohendra made
\nno reply, but once more began to weep. Kalyani again spoke;
\n\u2014 her voice was very soft, very sweet, very tender, as she again
\nsaid, “Consider who has the strength to transgress what God
\nhas willed. He has laid his command on me to go; could I stay,
\nif I would? If I had not died of my own will, inevitably someone
\nelse would have slain me. I do well to die. Perform with your
\nwhole strength the vow you have undertaken, it will create a
\nforce of well-doing by which I shall attain heaven and both of
\nus together will enjoy celestial bliss to all eternity.”
\n<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\n \tMeanwhile the little girl threw up the milk she had drunk
\nand recovered, \u2014 the small amount of poison that she had swallowed, was not fatal. But at that time Mohendra’s mind was not
\nturned in that direction. He put his daughter in Kalyani’s lap and
\nclosely embracing both of them began to weep incessantly. Then
\nit seemed that in the midst of the forest a soft yet thunder-deep
\nsound arose,
\n\u2014 <\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\n  <\/p>\n

\n \t“O Hari, O Murari, O foe of Kaitabh and Madhu!
\n<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\n \t\tO Gopal, O Govinda, O Mukunda, O Shauri!”
\n<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\n  <\/p>\n

\n By that time the poison had begun to act on Kalyani, her
\nconsciousness was being somewhat taken from her; in her half
\nunconscious condition she seemed to herself to hear the words
\nringing out in the marvellous flutelike voice she had heard in the
\nVaikuntha of her dream.
\n<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\n  <\/p>\n

\n “O Hari, O Murari, O foe of Kaitabh and Madhu!
\n<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\n O Gopal, O Govinda, O Mukunda, O Shauri!”<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n

\n <\/p>\n

\n

<\/p>\n

Page \u2013 513<\/font><\/span><\/p>\n

\n

\n

Then Kalyani in her semi-unconsciousness began to sing in
\na voice sweeter than any Apsara’s,
\n<\/span><\/p>\n

\n

 <\/p>\n

\n

“O Hari, O Murari, O foe of Kaitabh and Madhu!”
\n<\/span><\/p>\n

\n

 <\/p>\n

\n

She cried to Mohendra, “Say,
\n<\/span><\/p>\n

\n

 <\/p>\n

\n

‘O Hari, O Murari, O foe of Kaitabh and Madhu!'”
\n<\/span><\/p>\n

\n

 <\/p>\n

\n

Deeply moved by the sweet voice that rose from the forest
\nand the sweet voice of Kalyani and in the grief of his heart
\nthinking “God is my only helper,” Mohendra called aloud,
\n<\/span><\/p>\n

\n

 <\/p>\n

\n

“O Hari, O Murari, O foe of Kaitabh and Madhu!”
\n<\/span><\/p>\n

\n

 <\/p>\n

\n

Then from all sides the sound arose,
\n<\/span><\/p>\n

\n

 <\/p>\n

\n

“O Hari, O Murari, O foe of Kaitabh and Madhu!”
\n<\/span><\/p>\n

\n

 <\/p>\n

\n

Then it seemed as if the very birds in the trees were singing,
\n<\/span><\/p>\n

\n

 <\/p>\n

\n

“O Hari, O Murari, O foe of Kaitabh and Madhu!”
\n<\/span><\/p>\n

\n

 <\/p>\n

\n

It seemed as if the murmurs of the river repeated,
\n<\/span><\/p>\n

\n

 <\/p>\n

\n

“O Hari, O Murari, O foe of Kaitabh and Madhu!”
\n<\/span><\/p>\n

\n

 <\/p>\n

\n

Then Mohendra, forgetting his grief and affliction and full
\nof ecstasy, sang in one voice with Kalyani,
\n<\/span><\/p>\n

\n

 <\/p>\n

\n

“O Hari, O Murari, O foe of Kaitabh and Madhu!”
\n<\/span><\/p>\n

\n

 <\/p>\n

\n

From the forest the cry seemed to rise in chorus with their
\nsong,<\/span><\/p>\n

\n

 <\/p>\n

\n

“O Hari, O Murari, O foe of Kaitabh and Madhu!”
\n<\/span><\/p>\n

\n

 <\/p>\n

\n

Kalyani’s voice became fainter and fainter, but still she cried,
\n<\/span><\/p>\n

\n

 <\/p>\n

\n

“O Hari, O Murari, O foe of Kaitabh and Madhu!”
\n<\/span><\/p>\n

\n

 <\/p>\n

\n

Then by degrees her voice grew hushed, no sound came from
\nher lips, her eyes closed, her body grew cold, and Mohendra
\nunderstood that Kalyani had departed to Vaikuntha with the
\ncry of “O Hari, O Murari” on her lips. Then Mohendra began
\nto call out loudly like one frantic, making the forest quiver,<\/span><\/p>\n

\n <\/p>\n

\n

<\/p>\n

Page \u2013 514<\/font><\/span><\/p>\n

\n

\nstartling the birds and beasts,
\n<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\n  <\/p>\n

\n “O Hari, O Murari, O foe of Kaitabh and Madhu!”
\n<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\n  <\/p>\n

\n At that time one came and, embracing him closely, began to
\ncall with him in a voice as loud as his,
\n<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\n  <\/p>\n

\n “O Hari, O Murari, O foe of Kaitabh and Madhu!”
\n<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\n  <\/p>\n

\n Then in that glory of the Infinite, in that boundless forest, before the body of her who now travelled the eternal way,
\nthe two sang the name of Eternal God. The birds and beasts
\nwere voiceless, the earth full of a miraculous beauty, \u2014 the fit
\nting temple for this highest anthem. Satyananda sat down with
\nMohendra in his arms.<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n

\n <\/p>\n

\n

<\/p>\n

Page \u2013 515<\/font><\/span><\/p>\n

\n

\nChapter XIII
\n<\/a>
\n<\/font><\/b><\/span><\/p>\n

\n <\/p>\n

\nM<\/font>EANWHILE <\/b>there was a great commotion in the high
\nroad in the capital. The noise went abroad that Sannyasins had plundered the revenue that was being
\ndespatched from the royal treasury to Calcutta. Then by order of the Government sepoys and spearmen sped on all sides
\nto seize Sannyasins. Now at that time in that famine-stricken
\ncountry there was no great number of real Sannyasins; for these
\nascetics live upon alms, and when people themselves get nothing to eat, there is not likely to be anyone to give alms to the
\nmendicant. Therefore all the genuine ascetics had fled from the
\npinch of hunger to the country about Benares and Prayag. Only
\nthe Children wore the robe of the Sannyasin when they willed,
\nabandoned it when abandonment was needed. Now too, many,
\nseeing trouble abroad, left the dress of the ascetic. For this reason
\nthe hungry retainers of power, unable to find a Sannyasin any
\nwhere, could only break the water-jars and cooking-pots of the
\nhouseholders and return with their empty bellies only half-filled.
\nSatyananda alone would at no time leave his saffron robe.
\n<\/span><\/p>\n

\nAt the moment when on the bank of that dark and murmurous rivulet, on the borders of the high road, at the foot of
\nthe tree on the water’s verge, Kalyani lay still and Mohendra and
\nSatyananda in each other’s embrace were calling on God with
\nstreaming eyes, Jamadar Nazir-ud-din and his sepoys arrived
\nat the spot. Forthwith he put his hand on Satyananda’s throat
\nand said, “Here is a rascal of a Sannyasin.” Immediately another
\nseized Mohendra; for a man who consorts with Sannyasins, must
\nnecessarily be a Sannyasin. A third hero was about to arrest the
\ndead body of Kalyani where it lay at length on the grass. Then he
\nsaw that it was the corpse of a woman and very possibly might
\nnot be a Sannyasin, and did not proceed with the arrest. On
\nthe same reasoning they left the little girl alone. Then without<\/span><\/p>\n

\n <\/p>\n

\n

<\/p>\n

Page \u2013 516<\/font><\/span><\/p>\n

\n

\ncolloquy of any kind they bound the two prisoners and marched
\nthem off. The corpse of Kalyani and her little daughter remained
\nlying unprotected at the foot of the tree.
\n<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\n Mohendra was at first almost senseless with the oppression
\nof grief and the frenzy of divine love; he could not understand
\nwhat was toward or what had happened and made no objection
\nto being bound; but when they had gone a few paces, he awoke
\nto the fact that they were being led away in bonds. Immediately
\nit occurred to him that Kalyani’s corpse was left lying without
\nfuneral rites, that his little daughter was left lying, and that even
\nnow wild beasts might devour them, he wrenched his hands
\napart by sheer force and with the one wrench tore his bonds
\napart. With one kick he sent the Jamadar sprawling to the
\nground and fell upon one of the sepoys; but the other three
\nseized him from three sides and once more overpowered and
\nrendered him helpless. Then Mohendra in the wretchedness of
\nhis grief said to the Brahmacharin Satyananda, “If only you had
\nhelped me a little, I would have slain these five miscreants.”
\n“What strength is there” answered Satyananda, “in this aged
\nbody of mine, \u2014 except Him on whom I was calling, I have no
\nother strength. Do not struggle against the inevitable. We shall
\nnot be able to overpower these five men. Come, let us see where
\nthey will take us. The Lord will be our protection in all things.”
\nThen both of them without farther attempt at escape followed
\nthe soldiers. When they had gone a little distance, Satyananda
\nasked the sepoys, “My good fellows, I am in the habit of calling
\non the name of Hari; is there any objection to my calling on
\nHis name?” The Jamadar thought Satyananda to be a simple
\nand inoffensive man, and he said, “Call away, I won’t stop
\nyou. You are an old Brahmacharin and I think there will be
\nan order for your discharge; this ruffian will be hanged.” Then
\nthe Brahmacharin began softly to sing, <\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\n  <\/p>\n

\n With the lingering wind in her tresses,
\n<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\n Where the stream its banks caresses,
\n<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\n There is one in the woodland, a woman and fair.
\n<\/span>\n<\/p>\n

\n Arise, O thou hero, let speed<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n

\n <\/p>\n

\n

<\/p>\n

Page \u2013 517<\/font><\/span><\/p>\n

\n

\n

Be swift in thy feet to her need;
\n<\/span><\/p>\n

\n

For the child who is there
\n<\/span><\/p>\n

\n

Is full of sorrow and weeping and care.
\n<\/span><\/p>\n

\n

 <\/p>\n

\n

On arriving in the city they were taken to the Chief of Police,
\nwho sent word to the Government and put the Brahmacharin
\nand Mohendra for the time into confinement. That was a dreadful prison, for it was seldom that he who entered came out,
\nbecause there was no one to judge. It was not the British jail
\nwith which we are familiar \u2014 at that time there was not the
\nBritish system of justice. Those were the days of no procedure,
\nthese are the days of procedure. Compare the two!<\/span><\/p>\n

\n <\/p>\n

\n

<\/p>\n

Page \u2013 518<\/font><\/span><\/p>\n<\/td>\n<\/tr>\n<\/table>\n<\/div>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

Anandamath   THE FIRST THIRTEEN CHAPTERS   Prologue   A WIDE interminable forest. Most of the trees are sals, but other kinds are not wanting….<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[48],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-2293","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-05-translations","wpcat-48-id"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/worksofthemotherandsriaurobindo.org\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/2293","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/worksofthemotherandsriaurobindo.org\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/worksofthemotherandsriaurobindo.org\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/worksofthemotherandsriaurobindo.org\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/worksofthemotherandsriaurobindo.org\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=2293"}],"version-history":[{"count":0,"href":"https:\/\/worksofthemotherandsriaurobindo.org\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/2293\/revisions"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/worksofthemotherandsriaurobindo.org\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=2293"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/worksofthemotherandsriaurobindo.org\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=2293"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/worksofthemotherandsriaurobindo.org\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=2293"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}