THE FRUIT OF THE POISON TREE.
Nagendra's letter to Hara Deb Ghosal:
"You wrote that of all the acts I have done in my life, my marriage
with Kunda Nandini is the most erroneous. I admit it. By doing this I
have lost Surja Mukhi. I was very fortunate in obtaining Surja Mukhi
for a wife. Every one digs for jewels, but only one finds the
Koh-i-nur. Surja Mukhi is the Koh-i-nur. In no respect can Kunda
Nandini fill her place. Why, then, did I instal Kunda Nandini in her
seat? Delusion, delusion; now I am sensible of it. I have waked up
from my dream to realize my loss. Now where shall I find Surja Mukhi?
Why did I marry Kunda Nandini? Did I love her? Certainly I loved her;
I lost my senses for her; my life was leaving me. But now I know this
was but the love of the eye; or else, when I have been only fifteen
days married, why do I say, 'Did I love her?' I love her still; but
where is my Surja Mukhi?
"I meant to have written much more to-day; but I cannot, it is very
difficult."
Hara Deb Ghosal's reply:
"I understand your state of mind. It is not that you do not love Kunda
Nandini; you do love her, but when you said it was the love of the eye
only, you spoke the truth. Towards Surja Mukhi your love is deep, but
for a couple of days it has been covered by the shadow of Kunda
Nandini. Now you understand that you have lost Surja Mukhi. So long as
the sun remains unclouded, we are warmed by his beams and we love the
clouds; but when the sun is gone we know that he was the eye of the
world. Not understanding your own heart, you have committed this great
error. I will not reproach you more, because you fell into it under a
delusion which it was very difficult to resist.
"The mind has many different affections; men call them all love, but
only that condition of heart which is ready to sacrifice its own
happiness to secure that of another is true love. The passion for
beauty is not love. The unstable lust for beauty is no more love than
the desire of the hungry for rice. True love is the offspring of
reason. When the qualities of a lovable person are perceived by the
understanding, the heart being charmed by these qualities is drawn
towards the possessor; it desires union with that treasury of virtues
and becomes devoted to it. The fruits of this love are expansion of
the heart, self-forgetfulness, self-denial. This is true love.
Shakespeare, Valmiki, Madame de Staël, are its poets; as Kalidas,
Byron, Jayadeva are of the other species of love. The effect on the
heart produced by the sight of beauty is dulled by repetition. But
love caused by the good qualities of a person does not lose its charm,
because beauty has but one appearance, because virtues display
themselves anew in every fresh act. If beauty and virtues are found
together, love is quickly generated; but if once the intelligence be
the cause for love, it is of no importance whether beauty exists or
not. Towards an ugly husband or an ugly wife love of this kind holds a
firm place. The love produced by virtue as virtue is lasting
certainly, but it takes time to know these virtues; therefore this
love never becomes suddenly strong, it is of gradual growth. The
infatuation for beauty springs into full force at first sight; its
first strength is so uncontrollable that all other faculties are
destroyed by it. Whether it be a lasting love there is no means of
knowing. It thinks itself undying. So you have thought. In the first
strength of this infatuation your enduring love for Surja Mukhi became
invisible to your eyes. This delusion is inherent in man's nature;
therefore I do not censure you, rather I counsel you to strive to be
happy in this state.
"Do not despair; Surja Mukhi will certainly return. How long can she
exist without seeing you? So long as she remains absent, do you
cherish Kunda Nandini. So far as I understand your letters she is not
without attractive qualities. When the infatuation for her beauty is
lessened, there may remain something to create a lasting love; if that
is so, you will be able to make yourself happy with her; and should
you not again see your elder wife you may forget her, especially as
the younger one loves you. Be not careless about love; for in love is
man's only spotless and imperishable joy, the final means by which his
nature can be elevated. Without love man could not dwell in this world
that he has made so evil."
Nagendra Natha's reply:
"I have not answered your letter until now because of the trouble of
my mind. I understand all you have written, and I know your counsel is
good. But I cannot resolve to stay at home. A month ago my Surja Mukhi
left me, and I have had no news of her. I design to follow her; I
will wander from place to place in search of her. If I find her I
will bring her home, otherwise I shall not return. I cannot remain
with Kunda Nandini; she has become a pain to my eyes. It is not her
fault, it is mine, but I cannot endure to see her face. Formerly I
said nothing to her, but now I am perpetually finding fault with her.
She weeps--what can I do? I shall soon be with you."
As Nagendra wrote so he acted. Placing the care of everything in the
hands of the _Dewan_ during his temporary absence, he set forth on his
wanderings. Kamal Mani had previously gone to Calcutta; therefore of
the people mentioned in this narrative, Kunda Nandini alone was left
in the Datta mansion, and the servant Hira remained in attendance upon
her.
Darkness fell on the large household. As a brilliantly-lighted,
densely-crowded dancing-hall, resounding with song and music, becomes
dark, silent, and empty when the performance is over, so that immense
household became when abandoned by Surja Mukhi and Nagendra Natha.
As a child, having played for a day with a gaily painted doll, breaks
and throws it away, and by degrees, earth accumulating, grass springs
over it, so Kunda Nandini, abandoned by Nagendra Natha, remained
untended and alone amid the crowd of people in that vast house.
As when the forest is on fire the nests of young birds are consumed in
the flames, and the mother-bird bringing food, and seeing neither
tree, nor nest, nor young ones, with cries of anguish whirls in
circles round the fire seeking her nest, so did Nagendra wander from
place to place in search of Surja Mukhi.
As in the fathomless depths of the boundless ocean, a jewel having
fallen cannot again be seen, so Surja Mukhi was lost to sight.