The Home and the World by Rabindranath Tagore (elon musk reading list TXT) 📕

had failed of accomplishment, but that the entreaty, which had

cost her such a struggle to make, should have been refused. What

a wealth of colour and movement, suggestion and deception, group

themselves round this "me" and "mine" in woman. That is just

where her beauty lies--she is ever so much more personal than

man. When man was being made, the Creator was a schoolmaster--

His bag full of commandments and principles; but when He came to

woman, He resigned His headmastership and turned artist, with

only His brush and paint-box.

When Bimala stood silently there, flushed and tearful in her

broken pride, like a storm-cloud, laden with rain and charged

with lightning, lowering over the horizon, she looked so

absolutely sweet that I had to go right up to her and take her

by the hand. It was trembling, but she did not snatch it away.

"Bee," said I, "we two are colleagues, for our aims are one.

Let us sit down and talk it over."

I led her, unresisting, to a seat. But strange! at that very

point the rush of my impetuosity suffered an unaccountable check

--just as the current of the mighty Padma, roaring on in its

irresistible course, all of a sudden gets turned away from the

bank it is crumbling by some trifling obstacle beneath the

surface. When I pressed Bimala's hand my nerves rang music, like

tuned-up strings; but the symphony stopped short at the first

movement.

What stood in the way? Nothing singly; it was a tangle of a

multitude of things--nothing definitely palpable, but only that

unaccountable sense of obstruction. Anyhow, this much has become

plain to me, that I cannot swear to what I really am. It is

because I am such a mystery to my own mind that my attraction for

myself is so strong! If once the whole of myself should become

known to me, I would then fling it all away--and reach beatitude!

As she sat down, Bimala went ashy pale. She, too, must have

realized what a crisis had come and gone, leaving her unscathed.

The comet had passed by, but the brush of its burning tail had

overcome her. To help her to recover herself I said: "Obstacles

there will be, but let us fight them through, and not be down-

hearted. Is not that best, Queen?"

Bimala cleared her throat with a little cough, but simply to

murmur: "Yes."

"Let us sketch out our plan of action," I continued, as I drew a

piece of paper and a pencil from my pocket.

I began to make a list of the workers who had joined us from

Calcutta and to assign their duties to each. Bimala interrupted

me before I was through, saying wearily: "Leave it now; I will

join you again this evening" and then she hurried out of the

room. It was evident she was not in a state to attend to

anything. She must be alone with herself for a while--perhaps

lie down on her bed and have a good cry!

When she left me, my intoxication began to deepen, as the cloud

colours grow richer after the sun is down. I felt I had let the

moment of moments slip by. What an awful coward I had been! She

must have left me in sheer disgust at my qualms--and she was

right!

While I was tingling all over with these reflections, a servant

came in and announced Amulya, one of our boys. I felt like

sending him away for the time, but he stepped in before I could

make up my mind. Then we fell to discussing the news of the

fights which were raging in different quarters over cloth and

sugar and salt; and the air was soon clear of all fumes of

intoxication. I felt as if awakened from a dream. I leapt to my

feet feeling quite ready for the fray--Bande Mataram!

The news was various. Most of the traders who were tenants of

Harish Kundu had come over to us. Many of Nikhil's officials

were also secretly on our side, pulling the wires in our

interest. The Marwari shopkeepers were offering to pay a

penalty, if only allowed to clear their present stocks. Only

some Mahomedan traders were still obdurate.

One of them was taking home some German-made shawls for his

family. These were confiscated and burnt by one of our village

boys. This had given rise to trouble. We offered to buy him

Indian woollen stuffs in their place. But where were cheap

Indian woollens to be had? We could not very well indulge him in

Cashmere shawls! He came and complained to Nikhil, who advised

him to go to law. Of course Nikhil's men saw to it that the

trial should come to nothing, even his law-agent being on our

side!

The point is, if we have to replace burnt foreign clothes with

Indian cloth every time, and on the top of that fight through a

law-suit, where is the money to come from? And the beauty of it

is that this destruction of foreign goods is increasing their

demand and sending up the foreigner's profits--very like what

happened to the fortunate shopkeeper whose chandeliers the nabob

delighted in smashing, tickled by the tinkle of the breaking

glass.

The next problem is--since there is no such thing as cheap and

gaudy Indian woollen stuff, should we be rigorous in our boycott

of foreign flannels and memos, or make an exception in their

favour?

"Look here!" said I at length on the first point, "we are not

going to keep on making presents of Indian stuff to those who

have got their foreign purchases confiscated. The penalty is

intended to fall on them, not on us. If they go to law, we must

retaliate by burning down their granaries!--What startles you,

Amulya? It is not the prospect of a grand illumination that

delights me! You must remember, this is War. If you are afraid

of causing suffering, go in for love-making, you will never do

for this work!"

The second problem I solved by deciding to allow no compromise

with foreign articles, in any circumstance whatever. In the good

old days, when these gaily coloured foreign shawls were unknown,

our peasantry used to manage well enough with plain cotton

quilts--they must learn to do so again. They may not look as

gorgeous, but this is not the time to think of looks.

Most of the boatmen had been won over to refuse to carry foreign

goods, but the chief of them, Mirjan, was still insubordinate.

"Could you not get his boat sunk?" I asked our manager here.

"Nothing easier, sir," he replied. "But what if afterwards I am

held responsible?"

"Why be so clumsy as to leave any loophole for responsibility?

However, if there must be any, my shoulders will be there to bear

it."

Mirjan's boat was tied near the landing-place after its freight

had been taken over to the market-place. There was no one on it,

for the manager had arranged for some entertainment to which all

had been invited. After dusk the boat, loaded with rubbish, was

holed and set adrift. It sank in mid-stream.

Mirjan understood the whole thing. He came to me in tears to beg

for mercy. "I was wrong, sir--" he began.

"What makes you realize that all of a sudden?" I sneered.

He made no direct reply. "The boat was worth two thousand

rupees," he said. "I now see my mistake, and if excused this

time I will never ..." with which he threw himself at my feet.

I asked him to come ten days later. If only we could pay him

that two thousand rupees at once, we could buy him up body and

soul. This is just the sort of man who could render us immense

service, if won over. We shall never be able to make any headway

unless we can lay our hands on plenty of money.

As soon as Bimala came into the sitting-room, in the evening, I

said as I rose up to receive her: "Queen! Everything is ready,

success is at hand, but we must have money.

"Money? How much money?"

"Not so very much, but by hook or by crook we must have it!"

"But how much?"

"A mere fifty thousand rupees will do for the present."

Bimala blenched inwardly at the figure, but tried not to show it.

How could she again admit defeat?

"Queen!" said I, "you only can make the impossible possible.

Indeed you have already done so. Oh, that I could show you the

extent of your achievement--then you would know it. But the time

for that is not now. Now we want money!"

"You shall have it," she said.

I could see that the thought of selling her jewels had occurred

to her. So I said: "Your jewels must remain in reserve. One can

never tell when they may be wanted." And then, as Bimala stared

blankly at me in silence, I went on: "This money must come from

your husband's treasury."

Bimala was still more taken aback. After a long pause she said:

"But how am Ito get his money?"

"Is not his money yours as well?"

"Ah, no!" she said, her wounded pride hurt afresh.

"If not," I cried, "neither is it his, but his country's, whom he

has deprived of it, in her time of need!"

"But how am Ito get it?" she repeated.

"Get it you shall and must. You know best how. You must get it

for Her to whom it rightfully belongs. Bande Mataram!

These are the magic words which will open the door of his iron

safe, break through the walls of his strong-room, and confound

the hearts of those who are disloyal to its call. Say _Bande

Mataram_, Bee!"

"Bande Mataram!"

Chapter Seven

Sandip's Story

VIII

WE are men, we are kings, we must have our tribute. Ever since

we have come upon the Earth we have been plundering her; and the

more we claimed, the more she submitted. From primeval days have

we men been plucking fruits, cutting down trees, digging up the

soil, killing beast, bird and fish. From the bottom of the sea,

from underneath the ground, from the very jaws of death, it has

all been grabbing and grabbing and grabbing--no strong-box in

Nature's store-room has been respected or left unrifled. The one

delight of this Earth is to fulfil the claims of those who are

men. She has been made fertile and beautiful and complete

through her endless sacrifices to them. But for this, she would

be lost in the wilderness, not knowing herself, the doors of her

heart shut, her diamonds and pearls never seeing the light.

Likewise, by sheer force of our claims, we men have opened up all

the latent possibilities of women. In the process of

surrendering themselves to us, they have ever gained their true

greatness. Because they had to bring all the diamonds of their

happiness and the pearls of their sorrow into our royal treasury,

they have found their true wealth. So for men to accept is truly

to give: for women to give is truly to gain.

The demand I have just made from Bimala, however, is indeed a

large one! At first I felt scruples; for is it not the habit of

man's mind to be in