Chapter VIII.

THE pilgrim band reached Dudhasthal, the furthest point of their journey, after spending about eight days in visiting various places by the way. Kamala was much impressed with the sight that met her eyes and with the loud roar of the rushing waters that fell upon her ears. The breeze came in gusts, making a hoarse melody. The voice of the forest was loud, and the hills echoed back the rush of the waters. Quaint little dwellings built of rounded stone and slabs were visible all round. At a distance from the waterfall the river broadened and just washed the feet of a huge Nundi (the sacred bull) carved in stone that stood aloof, frowning on all. The temple was in a dark grove all by itself a little away from the river. Kamala listened to the talk of the women about her. Some were throwing fried rice into the river, and some were breaking cocoanuts, while the elderly ones made quite a hue and cry as they saw the river leaping into the cavern below. Hari! Hari! Shiva! Shiva!” exclaimed the pious ones, “our sacred Ganga is being swallowed by the earth. There are enemies all around. Even Mother Earth is jealous of her good deeds and tries to thwart her in her good course.” Kamala was in the thick of the crowd standing on the steps very near to the dizzy rush of waters. The place had awakened sensations which she felt she had experienced before. She seemed to think that she was looking at an old familiar scene. The feeling was most powerful as she stood on the brink of the rushing river. There was a rock opposite to her, and she recognised it distinctly. She had heard the rush of the waters before. Surely she had seen it all. But what had happened there? Why that dreamy pain in her head? It was a throb of anguish. She seemed to have fallen into a trance, for who was it she saw near her leading her by the hand? It was the form of a noble lovely woman who wore a diamond bracelet. The waters hissed and roared round her, and in a moment she felt her foot slip and herself carried forward. Then she seemed to see the woman plunge after her with a cry. The dreadful pool, ah! how dark it looked! A dart of pain passed through her. She was grasped and pulled out by the woman, but when was it and where? Had she really once gone through it all before? What was it that brought it all so vividly to her recollection? While thus absorbed, a voice fell on her ears and she started. It was her father’s voice which had strangely mingled with the vivid picture her mind had formed. It was like a strain of long forgotten music casting a spell on her and round her, and now it struck her ears distinctly as she seemed to awake as it were from her dream. She turned round with a great effort and just then she saw her father’s form disappear in the crowd. She cried:—“Father! Father!” and ran through the crowd. But what became of her father? For at the farthest end of the surging crowd she found herself alone on the steps of a temple in a dark grove. The sound of gongs and shells was deafening. Fear overcame her at the strange scene, and the crowd of faces round her looking at her curiously. “Oh! what will my husband say and my mother-in-law if they see me here alone?”’ she thought. The ashen figures of the bhairagis and the large staring eyes of the hideous looking priests made her feel uncomfortable. She was terror-struck, aud the dreadful thought of spells cast over damsels came over her and she would have screamed, but she felt all her power gone and she sank on the ground. “Rise,” said a voice calm, composed, and authoritative, and she obeyed with a shudder. “Come to your people, this is no place for you. Your father is gone.” At this she looked up, and whom should she see but the young physician? A sudden calm came over her. She tried to say something.

“Hush! don’t talk! This is not the place to talk,” and so saying he grasped her hand firmly and led her through the crowd to a group far from the others. It was Kashi’s group, and Kamala breathed freely as she saw Kashi approaching her.

“Narayen, the sanyasi, told me to ask you to take Kamala to her people. He is there in the temple and saw you from a distance, but has other duties just now.” Having said this the man left. This speech took Kamala’s breath away, and she could not say anything to Kashi, who had looked at her inquiringly, and when Kamala began to cry Kashi thought that it was due to the parting with her father and comforted her, and then they all went to join Kamala’s own people, who were still on the raised bank. This little incident disturbed Kamala considerably. What was it in her that gave rise to such visions? Had she really witnessed the scene once before, and why had her father disappeared? She had heard of visions and trances, but she feared to tell this to anyone. Was it a message from the goddess, the noble river deity? Oh! what would Kashi say if she told her all, and who was this man who said he was commissioned by her father? Kamala felt grateful to him and grew more and more troubled, but kept it all to herself.

Ganesh saw much of Kamala during this journey, for there was not then the same fettered relation between him and his wife as there was in the house. Many were the stolen conversations he had with her, and he daily became more and more enamoured of her. There was a certain grace and refinement about her which together with her unique beauty marked her out as distinct from other girls of her age. He found her, moreover, eager to get information about everything, and wonderfully quick of comprehension, and with the English ideas he had imbibed regarding women’s love and education he thought of striking out a new line and developing Kamala’s mind and so training her to be a real companion to him.

With this object in view he took the training of his wife into his hands immediately after they returned from the yatra. The obstacles in the way were great. His mother and sisters disapproved of his conduct and accused him of forgetting his manhood; for, said they, what man with any self-respect would make much of his wife, give her learning, and raise her up to his own level? The wife, as the saying went, was ‘the cat under the plate,’ the slave of the family and of her lord. They considered that he was disgracing himself in acting thus. Ganesh for a time assumed a bold attitude and tried to follow his own way. But his mother put on a grief-stricken air and showed a wounded pained face as if some great personal wrong had been done to her. She would sometimes cry before her son and upbraid him in words like these:—“What is it that has come over you. Why do you make an idol of the girl? You have stopped her from working and have put books into her hands as if she were going to earn her bread. Why was I born into this world to see such things. How hurt your sisters are! She has no feeling for us, no love. It is she that has put you up to all this. We knew that she was fond of reading.”

“Oh, mother! Why do you say such hard things? Do you think an hour or so devoted in the mornings to reading will make her all that you describe. I only want her to be a little more of a companion to me. She won’t lord it over you. In fact learning will teach her humility, and she can work after her lessons are over. When the food is cooked for all, could you not give her a little? Why need you say that you have all to work for her?”

But she was not to be pacified, and she would pull a face and sit disconsolate in a corner. It went to Ganesh’s heart to see his mother so sad, and he would try his best to soothe and coax her. When dinner was served, his mother, who used before to sit in front of him and watch him eat, would now leave him and go into another room. It was a hard time for Ganesh, for his father, too, changed in his behaviour to him. The old man was in the habit of holding long conversations with his son about college life, and would take a delight in ridiculing the new learning or would sit hours together going into raptures over some piece of Vedantic literature. But now he sat in sullen silence, and whenever anything was said by Ganesh he would merely give an unwilling grunt. Ganesh was avoided, too, by his sisters, who would stand aside talking to their mother in whispers. The only person who appeared to behave naturally was Ramabai’s husband, for he was somehow assiduous in his attentions to Ganesh. Kamala of course was the greatest sufferer. She noticed the averted faces and heard covert sneers and abuses, and her heart sank within her, but she did not for a long time know what offence she had committed. When she, as usual, went to assist in the domestic work, no one took any notice of her, and even the most insignificant work was rudely taken from her. One day when she went to the kitchen to take her food, for it was here that the female members generally took their meals, she found none for herself. She stood and waited for some time, but nobody, not even the servant woman, took any notice of her. She was very hungry, but she did not open her mouth. In the evening when she went to the well, Rukhma asked her why she looked so cast down. Happy Rukhma did so in her usual jovial, chiding manner and tears came to Kamala’s eyes when she felt she had to tell her all. She simply said that she had no food and was very hungry. Rukhma at once put down her vessel and ran to her house and brought some cakes which she had herself prepared, and coaxed Kamala to eat. Kamala felt as if she would choke, but with difficulty she swallowed a little. “Why did you not receive food?” Rukhma asked. Kamala said that she did not know. There was something wrong, she said, and she was afraid to ask anybody, and she also added that she had not been given any work of late and that all in the house had avoided her. It seemed a mystery to both. After a few moments’ silence, Rukhma said, “What will you do if this goes on?” Kamala again broke down and cried, and her companion wiped away her tears. Rukhma asked her not to tell anybody, but to come to the well side after dinner and share some cakes with her every day.

What would Kamala’s father have said if he had seen his darling daughter then, he who had done his best to keep her free from every kind of work? She had never felt any want as long as she lived with him and her life with him had been one long dream of happiness. But as it was with Kamala, so it usually is in Hindu families. Once given over, the daughter so lovingly brought up, is no more the concern of her parents. It is improper for them to interfere in any way with her new life, for what is written in the book of fate comes to pass.

By chance Kamala learned that her food was served in the men’s quarter. The servant woman it was that gave her this information, for she could not bear to see Kamala’s starved face. She, too, was indignant with Kamala, and told her that it was her own conduct that brought all this on her. Kamala did not know what to make of it all, and questioned her husband afterwards about it. He told her that all this came of his having begun to teach her. Kamala then asked to be excused. “You don’t know what I have to bear,” she said, “have pity on me.” But he told her not to mind anything, and that he was determined to go on with the lessons. He was for a time very kind and loving and taught her regularly in the mornings, and those were happy times for Kamala, in spite of all opposition. But there came a change in her husband’s behaviour, and he gradually left off coming to teach her. Kamala had nothing to do in the mornings; but she was afraid to leave her room and go to work again as usual, for many were the bitter shafts directed against her in the women’s quarter. Day after day she waited at the appointed hour for her husband to come and teach her, but he did not come. She did not know how to account for this change in him and she felt indignant at his conduct. She had not cared for the other people and had learnt to put up with their treatment of her, but now when she found that the only person whom she regarded as her friend was beginning to be indifferent, the disappointment was indeed keen. Her pride was touched, for this was a downfall for her. She had felt a certain reposeful confidence in her husband which now was replaced by a weak distrust. Many a taunt and covert sneer now flew past her as she left her room, and smiles and words distinctly said: “Ah! what a fall. What was the use of so much ado and what has come of all your intrigue!” She felt sorely hurt. In vain she tried to find excuses for her husband’s conduct. “He cannot help it,” she thought, “it is probably his mother’s and sister’s doing.” But such thoughts gave her no comfort. In the meantime, however, there was a change in the behaviour of the other members of the family. They did not give vent to their hatred of Kamala in any open manner, and they seemed to make much of her husband and take great pleasure in his company, and she felt glad for him, though for herself she knew there would never be any pardon. This change was brought about by Ramabai’s husband. He was the family counsellor. When the female members found that what he had predicted with regard to Ganesh’s relation to Kamala and to the family had come to pass, they went to her father-in-law and upbraided him for bringing such a girl into the family. “He is madly in love with her,” said the mother, “he does not care for you or for anybody else, and outrages our feelings by showing such preference for her. He won’t let her work and wants us to be her slaves.” Such were the complaints they made.

The old man heard all, reflected, and was troubled, but Ramabai’s husband came to his rescue. “I knew what it would all come to. These are the new-fangled ideas. I have been observing and have warned you more than once. But why, then, do you go on like this? The more you oppose him the more he will be set on educating his wife, as he calls it. He will think he is fighting for his rights and your conduct will only alienate him from us. What does he care? He will take her away if he finds that you are all against her. So now give him full liberty to do as he likes. Don’t oppose him in any way, but on the other hand humour him in every way and hide your resentment to the girl. There are a thousand and one ways of diverting a young man’s attention from his wife. I can see he is fond of pleasure and society. Try, therefore, to take him to temples and feasts, and so displace the new madness that is in him. When he finds no real opposition, he will put off the education of his wife, as he calls it.”

They all assented, and the old man only said with a pained voice that he did not believe that his son would behave so foolishly, and that the girl he thought so much of would have encouraged him to publicly disobey his mother and attempt to alienate him from his own people. After this conversation Ganesh’s mother beamed kindly on him and did not allude in any way to what she considered his disobedient conduct. His conscience smote him for having displeased so good a mother. “Her love is so great that she tolerates even this unpardonable conduct,” he thought to himself, and then, moreover, as he was going away shortly to Rampur, he thought he could do the teaching there. So he gave up coming to instruct Kamala. He did not even seek her company as formerly, and he entered joyfully into the spirit of the diversions that were so cleverly prepared for him by his scheming relatives.