Bankim Chandra Chattopadhyay

“ Courteous reader, have you ever in your 'young days' seen, with a lover's eye, the fresh-budding loveliness of a calm, gentle, soft maiden, whose dear image has stamped itself indelibly on your memory and imagination—whose sylph-like form keeps aye gliding in and out as if in a dream—in your youth, manhood and old age; in your busy moments and in your repose; alike when you sleep and when you wake; yet which for all this, leaves not a tinge of impurity behind it—have you, gentle reader, seen such a maiden? If you have, then only you will be able to conceive what Tilottama was like. ”

“ Ramananda Swami ceased. Slowly Protap’s life ebbed out. On a grassy bed lay the golden tree of spotless brilliancy.
Adieu, adieu to thee, O Protap! Go to the eternal home; go, where there is no trouble in the subjugation of the senses; where there is no glamour in beauty; where there is no sin in love; where beauty is infinite, love boundless, happiness inexhaustible, and in that happiness endless virtue. Go there, where one feels for another; where one’s duties are performed by another; where one sings the praise of another; where one is not made to suffer for another. ”

“ The paling blue of the starry heavens was now half covered by numbers of driving clouds, while one dense and settled mass of black hovered over the distant horizon and shed a sombre grey over the dimly seen outlines of the far-off tree-tops on its verge. A wild and fitful breeze occasionally moaned over the dark woods with an ominous sound and a few drops of pattering rain fell on the earth, on the leafy trees and on the luxuriant shrubbery. Matangini was too deeply absorbed in her own thoughts to heed the appearance of external nature, though lowering and gloomy looked the scene around her. ”

“ Bhramar did not satisfy this thirst. Rohini's beauty had arisen in his path as heavy clouds in a burning sky refresh the châtak's longing eyes. At sight of Rohini's form Gobind Lâl's mind became restless as the fickle peacock at the sight of clouds when the first rain begins. When he had become conscious of this the young husband swore to himself that even should it kill him he would not be unfaithful to Bhramar. He resolved to forget Rohini in devotion to business; in travel he should certainly be able to do so. ”

“ Then Mohendra began to call out loudly like one frantic, making the forest quiver, startling the birds and beasts,
"O Hari, O Murari, O foe of Kaitabh and Madhu!"
At that time one came and, embracing him closely, began to call with him in a voice as loud as his,
"O Hari, O Murari, O foe of Kaitabh and Madhu!"
Then in that glory of the Infinite, in that boundless forest, before the body of her who now travelled the eternal way, the two sang the name of Eternal God. The birds and beasts were voiceless, the earth full of a miraculous beauty,—the fitting temple for this highest anthem. ”

“ She was indeed, a child of nature, as Miranda or Sakuntala was, though she was something different from either. Miranda and Sakuntala knew the ways of the world but she was naturally ignorant of them. The warm passion of love was singularly wanting in her. When she met Nabokumar she felt for him not what Miranda felt for Fardinand or Sakuntala for Dussanto—but she felt for him what a kind-hearted woman feels for a benighted traveller. Even her married life brought no change. Nature gave her the best education—the endless sea, the vast sky, the broad and general air enlarged her heart. ”

“ Thou as strength in arms of men,
Thou as faith in hearts dost reign.
But the fierce roar of the British cannons drowned this great song of the Children. Hundreds of them began to fall, dead or wounded, on the hillside. The British steadily kept up the cannonading with volleys like thunder. Like sheaves of rice before the farmers at harvest time the Children fell, cut to pieces. Both Jiban and Mahendra tried their best to stem the tide of battle but in vain. The Children began to retreat like falling stones from a hilltop. ”

“ Amidst these desolate ruins Bhavan sat alone. The world was all but dead to him. With his hands on his temples he sat in deep thought. He was breathless, motionless and fearless.
'I have to face my own destiny,' he said to himself. 'There is no escape from that. I am sorry, however, that I was so scandalously swept into the currents of passion and desire. My body may perish in a moment and the passions of the senses perish with the body. And yet I was so overpowered by my senses! I am a traitor to my sense of duty. Death is better for me than to live this life of shame and disgrace. ”

“ If any question of marriage arose, her thoughts flew to Purandar. Her mind dwelt on his happy smiling face, fair as a flower, and set off by the crisp curling black hair around it; she thought of the brave blue cloak with gold embroidery that hung so gallantly from his manly shoulder; she remembered the brilliant rings on his fingers. She knew that she would have to marry in obedience to her father's wishes. But that would be a death in life. ”

“ Then Kalyani replied, "Do not command me to drink the milk, there is an obstacle. I will not drink it."
The recluse answered in a voice full of compassion, "Tell me 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 me? When I carried you unconscious from the forest, you then seemed to me as if you had been sadly distressed with thirst and hunger; if you do not eat and drink, how can you live?" ”

“ Ramananda Swami's last words went straight into Pratap's heart. They infused a new spirit into his inert and almost lifeless body and he roared out, as if, a lion had been roused from sleep,
"What will you understand, you are an ascetic! What man is there in this world who can fathom the love I bear to Shaibalini? Who will appreciate with what devotion and constancy I have loved Shaibalini during these long sixteen years? I am not attached to her with any evil motive—my love is nothing but a desire to sacrifice my life for the sake of the object of my love. ”

“ What a person! What a frame! Katlu Khan, my lord! have patience! patience I say! You are in a flame! Ah! Katlu's body is burning! The cup! ah! the cup! Ha! what again? Again the laugh! again the glance! Wine! wine! What is is, eh? Kanchali?
What's that, my lord? What's that?
The circle of women rose up with a chorus of laughter, and fled.
Suddenly the lamp went out; Katlu Khan cried "Where are you, my charmer?"
Laying one hand on Katlu's shoulder, Bimala said,
"Your slave's at your feet, lord." Her other hand held the dagger.
Katlu Khan drew Bimala to her breast, and embraced her deeply. ”

“ The abundance of her curly tresses prevented the whole of her face from being seen; nevertheless it could be seen like the moon's rays bursting forth from a cleft in the clouds. The glance from her large eyes was very steady, very sweet, intensely deep, and full of light. That glance was tender and bright like the moon's rays playing on the heart of the sea. Her heaps of hair had covered her shoulders and arms; the former were quite invisible, but the marble brilliancy of her arms could be seen a little. The girl's body was entirely devoid of ornaments. ”

“ Why should everything that seemed beautiful in days of happiness seem to-day so ugly? Those long slender moonbeams by which the heart was wont to be refreshed, why did they now seem so glaring? The sky is to-day as blue, the clouds as white, the stars as bright, the wind as playful; the animal creation, as ever, rove at will. Man is as smiling and joyous, the earth pursues its endless course, family affairs follow their daily round. The world's hardness is unendurable. Why did not the earth open and swallow up Nagendra in his palanquin? ”

“ Matangini read her fate in his looks and stood, not pale and trembling but firmly and proudly, with all the dignity and courage which had that very evening awed into silence the fury of her brutal oppressor. The howling of the wind and the clatter of the rain without, and the angry growl in the clouds above were the only sounds that disturbed the appalling silence.
At length Rajmohan spoke. "Accursed woman," he said in a bitter tone which had in it nothing of the unusual savage impetuosity of his temper, “did you not go to your paramour?" Matangini did not answer. ”

“ The flute of her treble voice swept a touch on a chord in Nobokumar's heart. At times, the wonderful gear of the heart-strings goes out of tune in such a way that with all our efforts no music can be struck out of them, though the defect can be remedied at the fine touch of a single word or the soft voice of a woman. Then everything becomes full of harmony and life an un-ending flow of music. The voice sent a drift into Nabokumar's ear in such sweet strains. ”

“ Dalani felt as if a thunderbolt had struck her. By that time Foster’s boat had gone out of sight, yet she ran along the shore with the hope of overtaking it. She ran a long way, but ultimately failed. Night had already set in, and it became dark. Nothing could be seen on the face of the river—only the gurgling of the fresh current after the recent rains was heard. Then like a plant torn up by the roots Dalani sank down in despair.
After a while, when Dalani found it useless to sit in the river-bed, she stood up and slowly ascended the bank. In the darkness no pathway could be found. ”

“ Rohini smiled.
"What makes you smile?" asked Haralal.
"The mention of your wife," said Rohini, "puts me in mind of the report that you wish to marry a widow. Do you really mean to do so?"
"Why, yes; but it is difficult to find one to my liking."
"I may tell you what we think," said Rohini. "We can never like to see you remain a widower all your life. You ought to marry again, if not for your own sake, for the sake of your child at any rate. We should be happy indeed to see you take a wife. And we don't care whether it be an unmarried girl or a widow you choose for your partner in life." ”

“ Like the river-water in Bhadro, her wealth of beauty was surging and overflowing. More than her colour, more than her eyes, more than all was the flashing fascination of that beauty. Her whole frame was constantly quivering with the weight of her ripe youth, as, when there is no breeze, a river quivers in the young autumn; and this quivering changefulness each moment added a fresh lustre to her beauty. Nobokumar was steadily gazing at this ever-fresh beauty. ”

“ If then, making suitable provision for Rohini, Gobind Lâl had come humbly to the loving Bhramar, had said, "Forgive me, give me again a place in your heart"; if he had said, "There are no merits in me to induce you to forgive me, but you are so full of grace, out of your own grace pardon me," I think Bhramar would have pardoned him. Because woman is full of forgiveness, of compassion, of love; woman is the crowning excellence of God's creation, the shadow of the gods. Man the god's creation only. Woman is light, man is shadow. Could the light do without the shadow? ”

“ God-speed to thee, in thy journey to that great unknown and mysterious land, where every living soul is conscious of the sorrows of each of his fellow beings—where every one safeguards the virtues of another, delights to sing in the praise of others and where no one ever feels the necessity of sacrificing his life for the sake of a fellow creature—go, noble spirit, go to that glorious land of eternal peace and contentment! If, there, at your feet, you get myriads of Shaibalini, you would not care to love them! ”

“ Since it had been abandoned by Surja Mukhi and Nagendra, Hira had taken possession of this summer-house. It was evening, an almost full moon shone in the heavens. Her rays shining through the branches of the trees fell on the white marble, and danced upon the wind-moved waters of the talao close by. The air was filled with the intoxicating perfume of the scented shrubs. There is nothing in nature so intoxicating as flower-perfumed air. Hira suddenly perceived the figure of a man in a grove of trees; a second glance showed it to be Debendra. ”

“ Have a care, Katlu Khan! And what can Katlu Khan do? With what a glance Bimala is offering the glass! Ha! what's that sound? Who is singing? Does it proceed from human or from angelic lungs? Bimala is singing with the singers. What a voice! what strains! how fine the measure! Katlu Khan, what's this? Who has captivated your mind? What are you gazing at? She is smilingly casting her side-look at every cadence; she is piercing your heart with more than a dagger's sharpness. Do you see that? The glance alone is bewitching and it is accompanied by music! ”

“ Once more when at the fall of day the clouds chase the dying sun in the sky ever eluding their grasp, then the bright mingles with the sweet; and yet again when your good lady dangling her ear-drops rushes after you with her flaming tongue, then also the bright mingles with the sweet. When the water of the Ganges is lit up by the moon and the foaming crests of waves thrown up by the wind glitter in the moonlight, then the bright mingles with the sweet; and when the sparkling champagne fizzes up and glistens in its crystal glass, then again the bright mingles with the sweet. ”

“ Losing not a moment, he seized Rajmohan's arms in an iron grasp. "Now Bhiku," said he to his hitherto silent companion, "will you hold the lamp and let this fellow see my face. It is a moon face, Raju, and will please you as much as your golden moon of a wife there." Bhiku brought the lamp and as bid held it close to his face.
"Sardar!" exclaimed Rajmohan in amazement, as he recognized his fellow-plotter of the night.
"Yes, sardar," replied the other, "I see you recognized me; friends never forget each other so soon." ”

“ The tiny ripples in the dark blue waters of the tank sparkled in the sun. The dark clouds in the sky became white; it was as though Bhramar had not died. Gobind Lâl went out.
Gobind Lâl had loved two women, Bhramar and Rohini. Rohini had died. Bhramar was dead. He had been attracted by Rohini's beauty, he could not quench youth's unsatisfied thirst for beauty; so, leaving Bhramar, he had taken to Rohini; but no sooner had he done so than he fully recognised that she was Rohini, not Bhramar; that thirst for beauty is not love; that enjoyment is not happiness ”

“ Under the covered shade of that grove, Shaibalini and Sundari, with brass pails in their hands, were in frolic and play with the water.
What does a play between water and a young woman mean? We do not understand it. He, whose heart beauty has melted into water, can alone say what it is. He alone can say how water, being stirred by the pail, breaks into ripples and dances, in perfect harmony, with the melodious music of the ringing ornaments in a woman's hands. ”

“ Said Ashmani.
"Suppress your desire as best you can"—returned Bimala. "But what am I to do now?"
Bimala began to think. All of a sudden, Ashmani began to laugh in her sleeve.
"Ill betide thee!" said Bimala. "Why are you laughing without rhyme or reason?"
"A thought has struck me," answered Ashmani. "What if my darling Diggaja goes with you?"
?"Ah! well said," replied Bimala joyfully. "I'll take that gallant with me."
"Gracious me! but I was jesting," said Ashmani in surprise.
"No joke," replied Bimala. "I don't mistrust the numskull. Night and day are all one to the blind man. ”

“ Nagendra was accustomed to rise early; it was possible Kunda might obtain a glimpse of him, after which she meant to return to Hira's dwelling. But when she arrived at the house she saw nothing of Nagendra, neither in the path, nor on the roof, nor at the window. Kunda thought, "He has not risen yet, it is not time; I will sit down." She sat waiting amid the darkness under the trees; a fruit or a twig might be heard, in the silence, loosening itself with a slight cracking sound and falling to the earth. ”

“ All her hopes were now concentrated in one particular thing, which was nothing but an earnest desire to behold her husband once again. Like the bee, which even under the smart pricks of thorns, takes delight to wing its favourite course round flowers of rare fragrance and beauty, sweetly smiling from within their thorny environments, Shaibalini's mind, inspired by the memory of her lord, began to wander about his face, which wore a manly beauty, with its well-matched pair of moustaches and broad forehead. ”

“ Since entering the house Nagendra had not wept, his grief had been beyond tears; but now the stream of sorrow found free vent. He cried like a boy, and his suffering was much lessened thereby. The grief that cannot weep is the messenger of death!
As Nagendra became calmer, Srish Chandra said, "We will speak no more of this to-day."
"What more is there to say?" said Nagendra. "The rest that happened I have seen with my own eyes. From Barhi she walked alone to Madhupur. From fatigue, fasting, sun, rain, despair, and grief, Surja Mukhi, seized by illness, fell to the ground ready to die." ”

“ A thick forest lay at a short distance from the village. Kapalkundala wended along a narrow sylvan alley to hunt out the drug. The night was sweet and cool and an unearthly stillness hung in the air. In the vernal nightsky was the cold shining moon cleaving her way silently athwart the fleecy clouds. The forest trees and creepers were shimmering noiselessly in the cold moonlight on the earth below. Smoothly did tree-leaves reflect the moon-beam and softly did milk-white flowers put forth their blossoms inside the shrubs and foliage. The whole country-side was bathed in a gracious peace. ”

“ Like the land-lotus in the grove, like the peacock among birds, a certain fair one, after having finished her toilette, was roving from room to room. One could go anywhere that night. Nature had made the woman the receptacle of her sweets; Katlu Khan had given her every member its appropriate ornament; yet her face did not show any marks of pride either for her beauty or for her ornaments. She knew no mirth, no laugh. Her face was grave—calm—her eyes showed the fire burning within.
After roving here and there, Bimala entered a handsome chamber. ”

“ Tears began to flow from Chandrashekhar’s eyes at the sight of the happy face of that girl of twenty reposing in the calm of deep slumber without a trace of voluptuousness about it.
The beauty of Shaibalini’s face quiescent in a profound sleep melted him into tears. “Alas! why did I marry her?” he thought. “This flower would adorn a King’s Crown. Why did I bring this jewel into the but of a learned Brahmin? By bringing her here I have rendered myself happy no doubt, but what is her happiness in it! Considering my age it is impossible to expect any love from her. ”

“ Yea, so dark was the cell, where Shaibalini was cast by the cruel tyranny of fate, that it made the vision of man as terribly obscure as when the eyes are closed. There was nothing to disturb the stillness of death which reigned in that fearful place except the occasional pattering sounds of water, falling in drops on the stones, through the cracks and crevices above the cave. Besides, the breath of some animal, who knows whether it was a man or a beast, could be perceived in that abode of horrible solitude and darkness. ”

“ The steps were built of brick to resemble stone, very broad and clean. On either side grew an aged bakul tree. Beneath these trees sat Kunda Nandini, alone in the darkening evening, gazing at the reflection of the sky and stars in the clear water. Here and there lotus flowers could be dimly seen. On the other three sides of the talao, mango, jak, plum, orange, lichi, cocoanut, kul, bel, and other fruit-trees grew thickly in rows, looking in the darkness like a wall with an uneven top. Occasionally the harsh voice of a bird in the branches broke the silence. ”

“ THE FRUIT OF HIRA'S POISON TREE.
IRA has sold her precious jewel in exchange for a cowrie. Virtue may be preserved with much pains for a long time; yet a day's carelessness may lose it. So it was with Hira. The wealth to gain which she had sold her precious jewel was but a broken shell; for such love as Debendra's is like the bore in the river, as muddy as transient. In three days the flood subsided, and Hira was left in the mud. ”

“ The fleeting away of time cannot be measured by months or years. Its flow is swift or tardy as our situation is pleasant or unpleasant. To Shaibalini, the few days she had not been greeted by Pratap in that fond and affectionate manner, appeared to be as long as the great interval between two ages. Shaibalini was overpowered with emotion, and she closed her eyes, as she was gliding away through that vast sheet of water; she asked the moon and the stars over her head, to bear witness to what had fallen from Pratap's lips. ”

“ To-day he was without reply to the formerly speechless Kunda Nandini. Kunda remained silent for some time; she was losing the power of speech, death was taking possession. Then Nagendra saw the death-shadowed face full of love. Its gentle light shining in her troubled face, remained stamped on Nagendra's heart to his latest day. After a rest, she said, with great difficulty—
"My thirst for speech has not been satisfied. I knew you to be a god; I never had the courage to speak, my desire was not extinguished. Death is approaching, my mouth is dry, my tongue falters, I have no more time." ”

“ The serene but smiling face of that young lady of twenty, which did not seem to be ruffled by passion, brought tears in Chandra Shekhar's eyes. He thought within himself, "Alas! why have I married Shaibalini? This jewel would adorn the crown of a king—why have I brought it in the cottage of a poor Brahmin, who is always busy with his books? No doubt, she has brought to me happiness with her, but what is that to Shaibalini? My age renders it impossible for her to love me—nor can my love quench the thirst of her yearning heart. ”

“ Who would live in a world so full of sorrow? The poison tree grows in every one's court. Who would love? to have one's heart torn in pieces. Oh, Creator! why hast Thou not made this a happy world? Thou hadst the power if Thou hadst wished to make it a world of joy! Why is there so much sorrow in it?
When, at evening, Nagendra Natha left Madhupur in his palanquin, he said to himself—
"Now I have lost all. What is lost— happiness? that was lost on the day when Surja Mukhi left home. Then what is lost now—hope? So long as hope remains to man all is not lost; when hope dies, all dies." ”

“ So unexpected was this outburst of warlike fury, that it seemed, as if, during the dead of night, when the whole universe is lulled to sleep by the fostering care of nature, the angry ocean, swollen with rage, rushed forward and encircled the camp, quite unawares.
All on a sudden, the officers and the attendants of the Nawab rushed out of the tent, in all haste—some to go to the field of battle and some to make ignominious escape. Kulsam, Shaibalini, Chandra Shekhar and Foster also came out; only the Nawab and the captive, Taki Khan, remained within the tent. ”

“ Chandra Shekhar felt that Shaibalini had been suffering from the tortures of hell, though alive. After a while Shaibalini said,
"I cannot make up my mind to die—I am awfully afraid of hell. The moment my life will be out, I shall be thrown into that horrible region of torture. Anyhow I must live; but how can I live alone for twelve long years? Oh, the hideous vision of hell is before me, both when I am conscious or otherwise." ”