{"id":2302,"date":"2013-07-13T01:40:42","date_gmt":"2013-07-13T01:40:42","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/localhost\/?p=2302"},"modified":"2013-07-13T01:40:42","modified_gmt":"2013-07-13T01:40:42","slug":"37-appendix-a-later-version-of-chapters-i-and-ii-vol-05-translations","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/worksofthemotherandsriaurobindo.org\/index.php\/01-works-of-sri-aurobindo\/03-cwsa\/05-translations\/37-appendix-a-later-version-of-chapters-i-and-ii-vol-05-translations","title":{"rendered":"-37_Appendix – A Later Version of Chapters I and II.htm"},"content":{"rendered":"
\n\n\n
\n

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

\n <\/p>\n

\nA Later Version of Chapters I and II
\n<\/b><\/span><\/p>\n

\n <\/p>\n

\nCHAPTER<\/font> I <\/b><\/span><\/p>\n

\n <\/p>\n

\n <\/p>\n

\nIt was the summer of the Bengali year 1176. The village of Podchinha lay oppressed under a tyrannous heat of the mid
\nsummer sun. The village was packed with houses, but people
\nwere nowhere to be seen. Rows of shops in the bazaar, rows
\nof booths in the market place, hundreds of clay houses in every
\nquarter with here and there high and low terraced mansions;
\nbut today all was silent. In the bazaar the shops were shut; the
\nshopkeepers had fled, one knows not where. It was market-day,
\nbut the market was not in swing, \u2014 begging-day, but the beggars
\nwere not out. The weaver had stopped his loom and lay weeping
\nto one side of his cottage; the trader had ceased to ply his trade
\nand sat weeping with his infant child in his lap; the giver had
\nceased to give; the teacher had shut up his school; even the little
\nchildren had no force or courage left to cry. No passers-by were
\nto be seen in the highway, no bathers in the lake, no human
\nfigures at the house-doors; there was not a bird in the trees, not
\na cow in the pasture; only in the burning-ground the dog and the
\njackal were abroad. One huge building whose great fluted pillars
\ncould be seen from far off bore a brave appearance as of a mountain peak arising out of this wilderness of houses. But today its
\nsplendour was a void thing, its doors shut, its rooms empty of
\nhuman concourse, all its voices hushed, entry difficult even to
\nthe breezes. In a room within this building there was darkness
\nat midday and in the darkness like twin flowers blooming in the
\nnight a young couple, husband and wife, were sitting plunged
\nin thought. And in front of them sat the spectre of Famine.
\n<\/span><\/p>\n

\nThe harvest of 1174 had not been good; so in 1175 rice
\nwas dear and the people suffered, but the Government exacted
\nthe taxes to the last fraction of a farthing. The poor paid and<\/span><\/p>\n

\n <\/p>\n

\n

<\/p>\n

Page \u2013 519<\/font><\/span><\/p>\n

\n

\n

ate only once a day. But in 1175 there was good rain and the
\npeople thought that Heaven had taken pity on them. The herds
\nman began again to sing in his gladness in the meadow, and
\nthe peasant’s wife to tease her husband for a silver armlet. But
\nsuddenly in the month of Aswin Heaven turned away its face.
\nNot a drop of rain fell through all Aswin and Kartik. In the
\nfields the stalks dried up and became mere straw and wherever
\na field or two had borne its crop the officials bought it up for
\nthe troops. The people had nothing to eat. At first they fasted
\nat one of their two meal-times, then they began to eat one half
\nmeal a day, then to fast both morning & evening. Whatever
\nlittle crop there was in the month of Chaitra never reached
\ntheir mouths. But Mahomed Reza Khan, who controlled the
\ncollection of the Revenues and thought that he could now show
\nhimself a very Sarafraz, increased at one leap the taxes by ten
\npercent. Throughout Bengal a great noise of weeping arose.
\n<\/span><\/p>\n

\n

People first took to begging, but soon there was no one to
\ngive alms. They began to fast; disease attacked them. They sold
\ntheir cows, they sold plough and tool, they sold their seed, sold
\ntheir houses, sold their plots of land. Then they began to sell
\ntheir girls, then their boys, then their wives. In the end there
\nwas no one to buy wife, boy or girl. All were sellers; buyer there
\nwas none. For want of other food, men began to eat the leaves
\nof trees, to eat grass, to eat weeds. The low classes & the wild
\npeople devoured dogs, rats and cats. Many fled the country.
\nThose who fled perished of starvation in other lands; those who
\nremained living upon uneatable things or not eating at all, began
\nto fall ill and die of various maladies.
\n<\/span><\/p>\n

\n

Disease had its high day; fever, cholera, consumption, small
\npox raged. Small-pox was especially prevalent; there were deaths
\nin almost every house. No one would give water to the sick,
\nno one would touch, no one would treat the disease or tend
\nthe sufferer; when he died there was no one to dispose of the
\ncorpse; the bodies of the beautiful lay rotting uncared-for in
\ntheir terraced mansions. For into whatever house the small-pox
\nmade its entry the inhabitants fled from it in terror abandoning
\nthe sick to their fate.<\/span><\/p>\n

\n

 <\/p>\n

\n

<\/p>\n

Page \u2013 520<\/font><\/span><\/p>\n

\n

\nMahendra Singh was one of the richest men in the village
\nof Podchinha, but today rich and poor were on one & the same
\nlevel. In this time of misery and disease his relatives and dependants, his serving-men, his serving-women, all were gone. Some
\nhad perished, others had fled. In all that populous household
\nthere was now left only his wife and himself and an infant
\ndaughter. It was they who were sitting in the darkened chamber.
\n<\/span><\/p>\n

\nThe wife Kalyani rose from her reflections, went into the
\ncowshed and herself milked the cow. Then she warmed the milk,
\ngave her child to drink and went again to give grass & water to
\nthe cow. When she came back, Mahendra said, “How long can
\nthis go on?”
\n<\/span><\/p>\n

\nShe answered “Not long, but let us continue as long as we
\ncan. Till then I will manage to keep things going; afterwards do
\nyou take the child to the town.”
\n<\/span><\/p>\n

\n“If we must go in the end, why should I put you through all
\nthis trouble? Let us rather go now.”
\n<\/span><\/p>\n

\nThe two debated the question for a long time.
\n<\/span><\/p>\n

\nKalyani asked, “Is there anything really to be gained by
\ngoing?”
\n<\/span><\/p>\n

\n“Who knows? Perhaps the town is as solitary as this village
\nand as empty of all means of subsistence.”
\n<\/span><\/p>\n

\n“If we go to Murshidabad, Cassimbazaar or Calcutta, we
\nmay live. No, there is every reason why we should leave this
\nplace.”
\n<\/span><\/p>\n

\nMahendra replied, “This house has long been full of the
\nstored up wealth of generations. All will be plundered by
\nthieves.”<\/span><\/p>\n

\n“If they came to plunder now, could we two prevent them?
\nUnless we live, who will there be to make use of this wealth?
\nCome, let us at once shut up everything and go. If we live, then
\nwe can return and again enjoy life and riches.”
\n<\/span><\/p>\n

\nMahendra asked her, “Will you be able to walk all that way?
\nThe palanquin bearers are dead; where there are bullocks, there
\nis no cartman; where there is a cartman, bullocks are not to be
\nhad.”
\n<\/span><\/p>\n

\n“That need not trouble you; I shall walk.”<\/span><\/p>\n

\n <\/p>\n

\n

<\/p>\n

Page \u2013 521<\/font><\/span><\/p>\n

\n

\n

In her heart she had resolved that if need be, she would fall
\ndown and die by the wayside, but these two must live.
\n<\/span><\/p>\n

\n

Next day at dawn they took some money with them, locked
\nall the doors, loosed the cows, took their child in their arms and
\nstarted for the capital. At the time of starting Mahendra said “It
\nis a difficult road and at every step of it robbers are wandering
\nin search of their prey; it is well to go armed.” He returned into
\nthe house and came back with gun, powder and bullets.
\n<\/span><\/p>\n

\n

Kalyani, when she saw the gun, said to her husband, “Since
\nyou have thought of it, take Sukumari for a moment. I too will
\nhave a weapon with me.” With this she put her daughter into Mahendra’s arms and entered the house, Mahendra calling after
\nher in surprise, “Why, what weapon can you carry?”
\n<\/span><\/p>\n

\n

It was a little box of poison that Kalyani hid in her dress
\nas she came. She had been provided for some time with this
\narm against any ill fate that might befall her in these days of
\nadversity. <\/span><\/p>\n

\n

It was the month of Jyestha, and the heat was fierce &
\npitiless; the earth burned as with fire, the wind scattered its
\nflaming breath, the sky was like a canopy of heated bronze, the
\ndust of the road like sparks of flame. Kalyani began to perspire
\nand walked on with difficulty and suffering; she sat down some
\ntimes under a babul tree, sometimes in the shade of a date palm,
\nsometimes she drank the muddy water of a dried-up pond. Mahendra carried the child in his arms and fanned it from time to
\ntime. Once they rested in the shade of a creeper-hung tree richly
\ncoloured with dark green leaves and fragrant with sweet-scented
\nflowers. Mahendra wondered at Kalyani’s power of endurance.
\nHe wet his robe and sprinkled water from a neighbouring pool
\non his own & Kalyani’s face, feet and forehead.
\n<\/span><\/p>\n

\n

Kalyani was a little refreshed, but both husband & wife
\nwere tortured with hunger. Their own hunger could be borne,
\nbut not the hunger & thirst of their child, so they began again to
\ntravel forward and making their way through the waves of fire
\narrived before evening at a hamlet. Mahendra was full of hope,
\nfor he expected that here he would find cool water to unparch
\nthe throats of his wife and daughter and food to sustain their<\/span><\/p>\n

\n

 <\/p>\n

\n

<\/p>\n

Page \u2013 522<\/font><\/span><\/p>\n

\n

\nlives. But no, there was not a man in the place. Large houses
\nlay empty; all the inhabitants had fled. After searching here &
\nthere for a while Mahendra made his wife and child lie down
\nin a room while he himself went out and began to call loudly.
\nThere was no answer. Then he said to Kalyani, “Be brave and
\nremain here alone by yourself, I will go and if there is a cow in
\nthe place, if Srikrishna takes compassion on us, bring some milk
\nfor us to drink.” So saying, he took up an earthen water-pot in
\nhis hand, \u2014 there were a great many lying there, \u2014 and sallied
\nout.
\n<\/span><\/p>\n

\n <\/p>\n

\nCHAPTER<\/font> II <\/span><\/b><\/p>\n

\n <\/p>\n

\nWhen Mahendra had gone, Kalyani, left alone with her little
\ngirl, in that solitary place, in that gloomy cottage, began to gaze
\naround her and a growing terror took hold of her mind. No one
\nanywhere, no human sound, only the cry of the dog & the jackal.
\nShe began to think, “Why did I let him go, we might have well
\nborne the pangs of hunger and thirst a little longer.” Then she
\nthought to rise & shut all the doors, but not a single doorway
\nhad shutter or bar. As she was thus gazing fearfully around her,
\nshe saw something like a shadow in the doorway opposite. It
\nlooked like a man’s form but hardly seemed to be human. Yet
\nit was something like a man, withered, wasted, black, terrible
\nthat had come & stood in the doorway. A little while and the
\nshadow seemed to raise an arm; a very long withered arm, all
\nskin and bone, appeared to be beckoning to someone with its
\nlong withered fingers. Kalyani’s heart in her dried up with fear.
\nThen another such shadow, withered, black, tall, naked came
\nand stood beside the first. Then another and another joined
\nthem, how many others. Slowly, silently they began to enter the
\nroom, the gloom-haunted cottage grew terrible as a midnight
\nburning-ground. Those corpse-like phantom-like figures entered
\n& stood in a circle round Kalyani and she half-swooned with
\nher terror. Then the black emaciated men seized & lifted up the
\nwoman and her child and took them up out of the house, across
\nthe open fields into the thickness of a wood.<\/span><\/p>\n

\n <\/p>\n

\n

<\/p>\n

Page \u2013 523<\/font><\/span><\/p>\n

\n

\n

A few moments afterwards Mahendra returned carrying
\nmilk in the water-pot. He saw no one in the cottage; he searched
\nhere & there, he called first his daughter, & at last his wife by
\nname, but he received no answer, found no trace.<\/span><\/p>\n

\n <\/span><\/p>\n

\n

<\/p>\n

Page \u2013 524<\/font><\/span><\/p>\n<\/td>\n<\/tr>\n<\/table>\n<\/div>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

APPENDIX   A Later Version of Chapters I and II   CHAPTER I     It was the summer of the Bengali year 1176. The…<\/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-2302","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\/2302","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=2302"}],"version-history":[{"count":0,"href":"https:\/\/worksofthemotherandsriaurobindo.org\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/2302\/revisions"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/worksofthemotherandsriaurobindo.org\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=2302"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/worksofthemotherandsriaurobindo.org\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=2302"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/worksofthemotherandsriaurobindo.org\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=2302"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}