19


On this side of the water there is no landing; the girls do not come here
to fetch water; the land along its edge is shaggy with stunted shrubs; a
noisy flock of _saliks_ dig their nests in the steep bank under whose frown
the fisher-boats find no shelter.

You sit there on the unfrequented grass, and the morning wears on. Tell me
what you do on this bank so dry that it is agape with cracks?

She looks in my face and says, "Nothing, nothing whatsoever."


On this side of the river the bank is deserted, and no cattle come to
water. Only some stray goats from the village browse the scanty grass all
day, and the solitary water-hawk watches from an uprooted _peepal_ aslant
over the mud.

You sit there alone in the miserly shade of a _shimool,_ and the morning
wears on.

Tell me, for whom do you wait?

She looks in my face and says, "No one, no one at all!"

20

KACHA AND DEVAYANI


KACHA AND DEVAYANI

_Young Kacha came from Paradise to learn the secret of immortality from a
Sage who taught the Titans, and whose daughter Devayani fell in love with
him._


KACHA

The time has come for me to take leave, Devayani; I have long sat at your
father's feet, but to-day he completed his teaching. Graciously allow me to
go back to the land of the Gods whence I came.


DEVAYANI

You have, as you desired, won that rare knowledge coveted by the Gods;--but
think, do you aspire after nothing further?


KACHA

Nothing.


DEVAYANI

Nothing at all! Dive into the bottom of your heart; does no timid wish lurk
there, fearful lest it be blighted?


KACHA

For me the sun of fulfilment has risen, and the stars have faded in its
light. I have mastered the knowledge which gives life.


DEVAYANI

Then you must be the one happy being in creation. Alas! now for the first
time I feel what torture these days spent in an alien land have been to
you, though we offered you our best.


KACHA

Not so much bitterness! Smile, and give me leave to go.


DEVAYANI

Smile! But, my friend, this is not your native Paradise. Smiles are not so
cheap in this world, where thirst, like a worm in the flower, gnaws at the
heart's core; where baffled desire hovers round the desired, and memory
never ceases to sigh foolishly after vanished joy.


KACHA

Devayani, tell me how I have offended?


DEVAYANI

Is it so easy for you to leave this forest, which through long years has
lavished on you shade and song? Do you not feel how the wind wails through
these glimmering shadows, and dry leaves whirl in the air, like ghosts of
lost hope;--while you alone, who part from us, have a smile on your lips?


KACHA

This forest has been a second mother to me, for here I have been born
again. My love for it shall never dwindle.


DEVAYANI

When you had driven the cattle to graze on the lawn, yonder banyan tree
spread a hospitable shade for your tired limbs against the mid-day heat.


KACHA

I bow to thee, Lord of the Forest! Remember me, when under thy shade other
students chant their lessons to an accompaniment of bees humming and leaves
rustling.


DEVAYANI

And do not forget our Venumati, whose swift water is one stream of singing
love.


KACHA

I shall ever remember her, the dear companion of my exile, who, like a busy
village girl, smiles on her errand of ceaseless service and croons a simple
song.


DEVAYANI

But, friend, let me also remind you that you had another companion whose
thoughts were vainly busy to make you forget an exile's cares.


KACHA

The memory of her has become a part of my life.


DEVAYANI

I recall the day when, little more than a boy, you first arrived. You stood
there, near the hedge of the garden, a smile in your eyes.


KACHA

And I saw you gathering flowers--clad in white, like the dawn bathed in
radiance. And I said, "Make me proud by allowing me to help you!"


DEVAYANI

I asked in surprise who you were, and you meekly answered that you were the
son of Vrihaspati, a divine sage at the court of the God Indra, and desired
to learn from my father that secret spell which can revive the dead.


KACHA

I feared lest the Master, the teacher of the Titans, those rivals of the
Gods, should refuse to accept me for a disciple.


DEVAYANI

But he could not refuse me when I pleaded your cause, so greatly he loves
his daughter.


KACHA

Thrice had the jealous Titans slain me, and thrice you prevailed on your
father to bring me back to life; therefore my gratitude can never die.


DEVAYANI

Gratitude! Forget all--I shall not grieve. Do you only remember benefits?
Let them perish! If after the day's lessons, in the evening solitude, some
strange tremor of joy shook your heart, remember that--but not gratitude.
If, as some one passed, a snatch of song got tangled among your texts or
the swing of a robe fluttered your studies with delight, remember that when
at leisure in your Paradise. What, benefits only!--and neither beauty nor
love nor...?


KACHA

Some things are beyond the power of words.


DEVAYANI

Yes, yes, I know. My love has sounded your heart's deepest, and makes me
bold to speak in defiance of your reserve. Never leave me! remain here!
fame gives no happiness. Friend, you cannot now escape, for your secret is
mine!


KACHA

No, no, Devayani.


DEVAYANI

How "No"? Do not lie to me! Love's insight is divine. Day after day, in
raising your head, in a glance, in the motion of your hands, your love
spoke as the sea speaks through its waves. On a sudden my voice would send
your heart quivering through your limbs--have I never witnessed it? I know
you, and therefore you are my captive for ever. The very king of your Gods
shall not sever this bond.


KACHA

Was it for this, Devayani, that I toiled, away from home and kindred, all
these years?


DEVAYANI

Why not? Is only knowledge precious? Is love cheap? Lay hold on this
moment. Have the courage to own that a woman's heart is worth all as much
penance as men undergo for the sake of power, knowledge, or reputation.


KACHA

I gave my solemn promise to the Gods that I would bring them this lore of
deathless life.


DEVAYANI

But is it true you had eyes for nothing save your books? That you never
broke off your studies to pay me homage with flowers, never lay in wait for
a chance, of an evening, to help me water my flower-beds? What made you sit
by me on the grass and sing songs you brought hither from the assembly of
the stars, while darkness stooped over the river bank as love droops over
its own sad silence? Were these parts of a cruel conspiracy plotted in your
Paradise? Was all for the sake of access to my father's heart?--and after
success, were you, departing, to throw some cheap gratitude, like small
coins, to the deluded door-keeper?


KACHA

What profit were there, proud woman, in knowing the truth? If I did wrong
to serve you with a passionate devotion cherished in secret, I have had
ample punishment. This is no time to question whether my love be true or
not; my life's work awaits me. Though my heart must henceforth enclose a
red flame vainly striving to devour emptiness, still I must go back to that
Paradise which will nevermore be Paradise to me. I owe the Gods a new
divinity, hard won by my studies, before I may think of happiness. Forgive
me, Devayani, and know that my suffering is doubled by the pain I
unwillingly inflict on you.


DEVAYANI

Forgiveness! You have angered my heart till it is hard and burning like a
thunderbolt! You can go back to your work and your glory, but what is left
for me? Memory is a bed of thorns, and secret shame will gnaw at the roots
of my life. You came like a wayfarer, sat through the sunny hours in the
shade of my garden, and to while time away you plucked all its flowers and
wove them into a chain. And now, parting, you snap the thread and let the
flowers drop on the dust! Accursed be that great knowledge you have
earned!--a burden that, though others share equally with you, will never be
lightened. For lack of love may it ever remain as foreign to your life as
the cold stars are to the un-espoused darkness of virgin Night!

21


I

"Why these preparations without end?"--I said to Mind--"Is some one to
come?"

Mind replied, "I am enormously busy gathering things and building towers. I
have no time to answer such questions."

Meekly I went back to my work.

When things were grown to a pile, when seven wings of his palace were
complete, I said to Mind, "Is it not enough?"

Mind began to say, "Not enough to contain--" and then stopped.

"Contain what?" I asked.

Mind affected not to hear.

I suspected that Mind did not know, and with ceaseless work smothered the
question.

His one refrain was, "I must have more."

"Why must you?"

"Because it is great."

"What is great?"

Mind remained silent. I pressed for an answer.

In contempt and anger, Mind said, "Why ask about things that are not? Take
notice of those that are hugely before you,--the struggle and the fight,
the army and armaments, the bricks and mortar, and labourers without
number."

I thought "Possibly Mind is wise."


II

Days passed. More wings were added to his palace--more lands to his domain.

The season of rains came to an end. The dark clouds became white and thin,
and in the rain-washed sky the sunny hours hovered like butterflies over an
unseen flower. I was bewildered and asked everybody I met, "What is that
music in the breeze?"

A tramp walked the road whose dress was wild as his manner; he said, "Hark
to the music of the Coming!"

I cannot tell why I was convinced, but the words broke from me, "We have
not much longer to wait."

"It is close at hand," said the mad man.

I went to the office and boldly said to Mind, "Stop all work!"

Mind asked, "Have you any news?"

"Yes," I answered, "News of the Coming." But I could not explain.

Mind shook his head and said, "There are neither banners nor pageantry!"


III

The night waned, the stars paled in the sky. Suddenly the touchstone of the
morning light tinged everything with gold. A cry spread from mouth to
mouth--

"Here is the herald!"

I bowed my head and asked, "Is he coming?"

The answer seemed to burst from all sides, "Yes."

Mind grew troubled and said, "The dome of my building is not yet finished,
nothing is in order."

A voice came from the sky, "Pull down your building!"

"But why?" asked Mind.

"Because to-day is the day of the Coming, and your building is in the way."


IV

The lofty building lies in the dust and all is scattered and broken.

Mind looked about. But what was there to see?

Only the morning star and the lily washed in dew.

And what else? A child running laughing from its mother's arms into the
open light.

"Was it only for this that they said it was the day of the Coming?"

"Yes, this was why they said there was music in the air and light in the
sky."

"And did they claim all the earth only for this?"

"Yes," came the answer. "Mind, you build walls to imprison yourself. Your
servants toil to enslave themselves; but the whole earth and infinite space
are for the child, for the New Life."

"What does that child bring you?"

"Hope for all the world and its joy."

Mind asked me, "Poet, do you understand?"

"I lay my work aside," I said, "for I must have time to understand."

22

TRANSLATIONS


VAISHNAVA SONGS



1


Oh Sakhi,[1] my sorrow knows no bounds.

[Footnote 1: The woman friend of a woman.]

August comes laden with rain clouds and my house is desolate.

The stormy sky growls, the earth is flooded with rain, my love is far away,
and my heart is torn with anguish.

The peacocks dance, for the clouds rumble and frogs croak.

The night brims with darkness flicked with lightning.

Vidyapati[2] asks, "Maiden, how are you to spend your days and nights
without your lord?"

[Footnote 2: The name of the poet.]

2


Lucky was my awakening this morning, for I saw my beloved.

The sky was one piece of joy, and my life and youth were fulfilled.

To-day my house becomes my house in truth, and my body my body.

Fortune has proved a friend, and my doubts are dispelled.

Birds, sing your best; moon, shed your fairest light!

Let fly your darts, Love-God, in millions!

I wait for the moment when my body will grow golden at his touch.

Vidyapati says, "Immense is your good fortune, and blessed is your love."

3


I feel my body vanishing into the dust whereon my beloved walks.

I feel one with the water of the lake where he bathes.

Oh Sakhi, my love crosses death's boundary when I meet him.

My heart melts in the light and merges in the mirror whereby he views his
face.

I move with the air to kiss him when he waves his fan, and wherever he
wanders I enclose him like the sky.

Govindadas says, "You are the gold-setting, fair maiden, he is the
emerald."

4


My love, I will keep you hidden in my eyes; I will thread your image like a
gem on my joy and hang it on my bosom.

You have been in my heart ever since I was a child, throughout my youth,
throughout my life, even through all my dreams.

You dwell in my being when I sleep and when I wake.

Know that I am a woman, and bear with me when you find me wanting.

For I have thought and thought and know for certain that all that is left
for me in this world is your love, and if I lose you for a moment I die.

Chandidas says, "Be tender to her who is yours in life and death."

5


"Fruit to sell, Fruit to sell," cried the woman at the door.

The Child came out of the house.

"Give me some fruit," said he, putting a handful of rice in her basket.

The fruit-seller gazed at his face and her eyes swam with tears.

"Who is the fortunate mother," she cried, "that has clasped you in her arms
and fed you at her breast, and whom your dear voice called 'Mother'?"

"Offer your fruit to him," says the poet, "and with it your life."

II



1


Endlessly varied art thou in the exuberant world, Lady of Manifold
Magnificence. Thy path is strewn with lights, thy touch thrills into
flowers; that trailing skirt of thine sweeps the whirl of a dance among the
stars, and thy many-toned music is echoed from innumerable worlds through
signs and colours.

Single and alone in the unfathomed stillness of the soul, art thou, Lady of
Silence and Solitude, a vision thrilled with light, a lonely lotus
blossoming on the stem of love.

2


Behind the rusty iron gratings of the opposite window sits a girl, dark and
plain of face, like a boat stranded on a sand-bank when the river is
shallow in the summer.

I come back to my room after my day's work, and my tired eyes are lured to
her.

She seems to me like a lake with its dark lonely waters edged by moonlight.

She has only her window for freedom: there the morning light meets her
musings, and through it her dark eyes like lost stars travel back to their
sky.