The Home and the World. Rabindranath Tagore

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      Published by Good Press, 2019

       [email protected]

      EAN 4057664107480

Table of Contents

       II

       III

       Chapter Two

       Chapter Three

       Chapter Four

       X

       V

       Chapter Five

       Chapter Six

       Chapter Seven

       Chapter Eight

       Chapter Nine

       XVI

       Chapter Ten

       Chapter Eleven

       Chapter Twelve

II

       Table of Contents

      My husband was very eager to take me out of __purdah__. [6]

      One day I said to him: "What do I want with the outside world?"

      "The outside world may want you," he replied.

      "If the outside world has got on so long without me, it may go on for some time longer. It need not pine to death for want of me."

      "Let it perish, for all I care! That is not troubling me. I am thinking about myself."

      "Oh, indeed. Tell me what about yourself?"

      My husband was silent, with a smile.

      I knew his way, and protested at once: "No, no, you are not going to run away from me like that! I want to have this out with you."

      "Can one ever finish a subject with words?"

      "Do stop speaking in riddles. Tell me … "

      "What I want is, that I should have you, and you should have me, more fully in the outside world. That is where we are still in debt to each other."

      "Is anything wanting, then, in the love we have here at home?"

      "Here you are wrapped up in me. You know neither what you have, nor what you want."

      "I cannot bear to hear you talk like this."

      "I would have you come into the heart of the outer world and meet reality. Merely going on with your household duties, living all your life in the world of household conventions and the drudgery of household tasks—you were not made for that! If we meet, and recognize each other, in the real world, then only will our love be true."

      "If there be any drawback here to our full recognition of each other, then I have nothing to say. But as for myself, I feel no want."

      "Well, even if the drawback is only on my side, why shouldn't you help to remove it?"

      Such discussions repeatedly occurred. One day he said: "The greedy man who is fond of his fish stew has no compunction in cutting up the fish according to his need. But the man who loves the fish wants to enjoy it in the water; and if that is impossible he waits on the bank; and even if he comes back home without a sight of it he has the consolation of knowing that the fish is all right. Perfect gain is the best of all; but if that is impossible, then the next best gain is perfect losing."

      I never liked the way my husband had of talking on this subject, but that is not the reason why I refused to leave the zenana. His grandmother was still alive. My husband had filled more than a hundred and twenty per cent of the house with the twentieth century, against her taste; but she had borne it uncomplaining. She would have borne it, likewise, if the daughter-in-law [7] of the Rajah's house had left its seclusion. She was even prepared for this happening. But I did not consider it important enough to give her the pain of it. I have read in books that we are called "caged birds". I cannot speak for others, but I had so much in this cage of mine that there was not room for it in the universe—at least that is what I then felt.

      The grandmother, in her old age, was very fond of me. At the bottom of her fondness was the thought that, with the conspiracy of favourable stars which attended me, I had been able to attract my husband's love. Were not men naturally inclined to plunge downwards? None of the others, for all their beauty, had been able to prevent their husbands going headlong into the burning depths which consumed and destroyed them. She believed that I had been the means of extinguishing this fire, so deadly to the men of the family. So she kept me in the shelter of her bosom, and trembled if I was in the least bit unwell.

      His grandmother did not like the dresses and ornaments my husband brought from European shops to deck me with. But she reflected: "Men will have some absurd hobby or other, which is sure to be expensive. It is no use trying to check their extravagance; one is glad enough if they stop short of ruin. If my Nikhil had not been busy dressing up his wife there is no knowing whom else he might have spent his money on!" So whenever any new dress of mine arrived she used to send for my husband and make merry over it.

      Thus it came about that it was her taste which changed. The influence of the modern age fell so strongly upon her, that her evenings refused to pass if I did not tell her stories out of English books.

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