_Professor_
Well, you have seen the King, haven’t you? I hear you were charmed by
his appearance.
_Nandini_
Of course I was! Isn’t he marvellous in his strength?
_Professor_
That marvellousness is the credit side of the account, and this
ghastliness is the debit. These small ones are consumed to ash,
that the great ones may leap up in flame. This is the principle
underlying all rise to greatness.
_Nandini_
It’s a fiendish principle!
_Professor_
It’s no use getting annoyed with a principle. Principles are neither
good nor bad. That which happens _does_ happen. To go against it, is
to knock your head against the law of being.
_Nandini_
If this is the way of man’s being, I refuse to _be_, I want to depart
with those shadows,--show me the way.
_Professor_
When the time comes for showing us out, the great ones themselves
will point the way. Before that, there’s no such nuisance as a way at
all! You see how our Antiquarian has quietly slipped off, thinking
he’ll fly and save himself. After going a few steps, he’ll soon
discover that there’s a wire network stretched from post to post,
from country to country.
Nandini, I see, your temper is rising. The red oleanders against
your flaming cheek are beginning to look like evening storm clouds
gathering for a night of terror.
_Nandini_
(_Knocking at the net window_) Listen, listen!
_Professor_
Whom are you calling?
_Nandini_
That King of yours, shrouded in his mist of netting.
_Professor_
The door of the inner room has been closed. He won’t hear you.
_Nandini_
(_Calling out_) Bishu, mad brother mine!
_Professor_
What d’you want with _him_?
_Nandini_
Why hasn’t he come back yet? I feel afraid.
_Professor_
He was with you only a little while ago.
_Nandini_
The Governor said he was wanted to identify Rañjan. I tried to go
with him, but they wouldn’t let me. Whose groaning is that?
_Professor_
It must be that wrestler of ours.
_Nandini_
What wrestler?
_Professor_
The world-famous Gajju, whose brother, Bhajan, had the bravado to
challenge the King to a wrestling match, since when not even a
thread of his loin cloth is anywhere to be seen. That put Gajju on
his mettle, and he came on with great sound and fury. I told him at
the outset that, if he wanted to dig in the tunnels underneath this
kingdom, he was welcome,--he could at least drag on a dead and alive
existence for some time. But if he wanted to make a show of heroics,
that would not be tolerated for a moment.
_Nandini_
Does it at all make for their well-being thus to keep watch and ward
over these man-traps night and day?
_Professor_
Well-being! There’s no question of “well” in it at all,--only
“being.” That _being_ of theirs has expanded so terribly that, unless
millions of men are pressed into service, who’s going to support its
weight? So the net is spreading farther and farther. They must exist,
you see.
_Nandini_
Must they? If it is necessary to die in order to live like men, what
harm in dying?
_Professor_
Again that anger, the wild cry of red oleander? It is sweet, no
doubt, yet what is true is true. If it gives you pleasure to say
that one must die to live, well, say so by all means; but those who
say that others must die that they themselves may live,--it’s only
they who are actually alive. You may cry out that this shows a lack
of humanity, but you forget, in your indignation, that this is what
humanity itself happens to be. The tiger does not feed on the tiger,
it’s only man who fattens on his fellow-man.
(_The Wrestler totters in._)
_Nandini_
Oh poor thing, see how he comes, staggering. Wrestler, lie down here.
Professor, do see where he’s hurt.
_Professor_
You won’t see any outward sign of a wound.
_Wrestler_
All-merciful God, grant me strength once more in my life, if only for
one little day!
_Professor_
Why, my dear fellow?
_Wrestler_
Just to wring that Governor’s neck!
_Professor_
What has the Governor done to you?
_Wrestler_
It’s he who brought about the whole thing. I never wanted to fight.
Now, after egging me on, he goes about saying it’s my fault.
_Professor_
Why, what interest had he in your fighting?
_Wrestler_
They only feel safe when they rob the whole world of strength. Lord
of Mercy, grant that I may be able to gouge his eyes out some day,
to tear asunder his lying tongue!
_Nandini_
How do you feel now, Wrestler?
_Wrestler_
Altogether hollowed out! These demons know the magic art of sucking
away not only strength but hope.
If only once I could somehow,--O good God, but once,--everything is
possible to Thy mercy,--if only I could fasten my teeth for once in
the Governor’s throat!
_Nandini_
Professor, help me to raise him.
_Professor_
That would be a crime, Nandini, according to the custom of this land.
_Nandini_
Wouldn’t it be a crime to let the man perish?
_Professor_
That which there is none to punish may be a sin, but never a crime.
Nandini, come away, come right away out of this. The tree spreads its
root-fingers and does its grabbing underground, but there it does not
bring forth its flowers. Flowers bloom on the branches which reach
towards the light. My sweet Red Oleander, don’t try to probe our
secrets in the depths of their dust. Be for us swaying in the air
above, that we may gaze upwards to see you.
There comes the Governor. He hates to see me talk to you. So I must
go.
_Nandini_
Why is he so dead against me?
_Professor_
I can guess. You have touched his heart-strings. The longer it takes
to tune them up, the more awful the discord meanwhile.
(_The Professor goes, the Governor comes in._)
_Nandini_
Sir Governor!
_Governor_
Nandini, when our Gosain saw that _kunda_ garland of yours in my
room, both his eyes,--but here he comes----
(_The Gosain comes in._)
Your Holiness, accept my reverence. That garland was given to me by
our Nandini here.
_Gosain_
Ah indeed! the gift of a pure heart! God’s own white _kunda_ flowers!
Their beauty remains unsullied even in the hands of a man of the
world. This is what gives one faith in the power of virtue, and hope
for the sinners’ redemption.
_Nandini_
Please do something for this man, Your Reverence. There’s very little
life left in him.
_Gosain_
The Governor is sure to keep him as much alive as it is necessary for
him to be. But, my child, these discussions ill become your lips.
_Nandini_
So in this kingdom you follow some calculation in apportioning life?
_Gosain_
Of course,--for mortal life has its limits. Our class of people have
their great burden to bear, therefore we have to claim a larger
portion of life’s sustenance for our share. That’s according to
Almighty God’s own decree.
_Nandini_
Reverend Sir, may I know what good God has so heavily charged you to
do to these people?
_Gosain_
The life that is unlimited gives no provocation to fight for its
distribution. We Preachers have the charge of turning these people
towards this unlimited life. So long as they remain content with
that, we are their friends.
_Nandini_
Then will this man with his very limited life have to remain lying
here half dead?
_Gosain_
Why should he remain lying down anyway? What say you, Governor?
_Governor_
Quite right. Why should we let him lie? From now he won’t need to
walk by his own strength alone, we shall carry him along with ours.
Here, Gajju!
_Wrestler_
Yes, Sir Governor!
_Gosain_
Good Lord, his voice has already become ever so much reedier. It
strikes me we shall be able to make him join our choir of the Holy
Name.
_Governor_
Gajju!
_Wrestler_
At your service, Sir!
_Governor_
Report yourself at the Headman’s quarters, parish Y-Z.
_Nandini_
How can the poor man possibly walk?
_Governor_
Look here, Nandini, it is our business to drive men. With the right
kind of push a man can be made to go a good distance, even when he is
at the point of collapse.
Get along with you, Gajju!
_Wrestler_
As you command, Sir!
_Nandini_
Let me come over to the Headman’s quarters to help you.
_Wrestler_
No. Don’t add to my troubles, I beg of you.
[_The Wrestler goes._
_Nandini_
Governor, stay, tell me, whither have you taken my Bishu?
_Governor_
Who am I that I should take him? The wind carries off the clouds,--if
you think that to be a crime, make enquiries as to who is behind the
wind.
_Nandini_
Dear me, what an awful place! You are not men, and those you drive
are not men, either,--you are winds and they are clouds!
Reverend Gosain, I am sure, _you_ know where my Bishu is.
_Gosain_