Translated from the Hindi by Urvashi Sabu
Compulsion1
When Babu Hridaynath’s only daughter, Kailash Kumari—or Kailashi, as he called her—was widowed at the age of thirteen he decided that something needed to be done to distract her. Alone she would only brood. Loneliness intensifies one’s grief. It was for this reason that he bought a gramophone and story books for her. He directed his wife to take Kailash Kumari for outings lest the poor child should die from grief. The result was that Kailash Kumari became addicted to outings and recreation. She found it unbearable to pass a day without going to the theatre or taking a walk along the river. Entertainment is the gift of modernity. Modernity hates old ways and traditions. Kailash Kumari remained busy looking for new diversions.
Would people remain silent at this? They spare no one. Their tongues wagged if one placed his cap at a jaunty angle or walked with a swagger. A widow, in their opinion, should spend her time praying and fasting. Her attire should be plain and simple. She has no need for recreation. Kailash Kumari might be a lovely girl but she could not ignore that society laid great store by what it regarded as shame and modesty.
The neighbours talked about the matter for days. Finally, some ladies took the trouble of dropping in at Hridaynath’s house to speak to his wife, Jogeshwari. After some inane chatter one of them remarked, ‘Sister, you spend your time laughing and enjoying yourself. Our day weighs heavily upon us. We have nothing to do. How long can one gossip about this and that?’
A second lady ventured, ‘It’s a question of luck. If joy is everyone’s lot then who will weep? From morning to evening I am busy with household chores. Then the children! One is laid up with diarrhoea while the other is running a fever. I spend the day cursing my luck, running about like a puppet.’
To this the third lady retorted, ‘It’s not a question of luck. Your heart should be contented. Otherwise you could be complaining even if you were seated on a throne.’
At this an old woman snapped, ‘Damn such a heart. Your house is burning; you are vilified from every side. You are caught up in your revelry, oblivious to everything else. Is this a heart or a stone?’
This rebuke made the women hang their heads in shame. They had wanted to belittle Jogeshwari. The open attack inflicted a direct wound. The topic was changed. Attention shifted to women’s education. But Jogeshwari was suitably chastened. She narrated the whole story to her husband once the women left.
Hridaynath got flustered. He was not one of those good souls who blow the trumpet of their emancipation without bothering about public opinion.
‘Now what?’ he asked.
‘You think of something.’
‘These people are not to blame. Even I have noticed a change in Kailashi. I guess we have failed in our intention.’
‘Kailashi might kill herself.’
‘We will have to change her perception.’
‘It’s going to be difficult.’2
Gradually, changes began to be made. Hridaynath played the gramophone less frequently. He took to reciting the scriptures. The mother–daughter duo remained busy with spiritual matters. Kailash Kumari was formally initiated into the spiritual path. Now they would go to the Ganga not for a pleasant trip but for a holy dip before heading for the temple. They fasted twice a month. Initially Kailash Kumari found this new life dreary and difficult but when a woman begins to believe in something, she does it with complete devotion. In a short period her interest in these matters increased.
She was now in her sixteenth year and keenly aware of her situation. She began to abhor recreation of any kind. The idea that widowhood was a punishment for some grave sin began to take root in her.
‘I must have done some wrong in my past life. If my husband were alive I would have become engrossed in worldly matters and deprived of the chance of self-improvement. Guruji was right: God has provided me with a means of salvation. Widowhood is not a punishment but a way to salvation through abstinence and piety.’
After some time, Kailash Kumari was so influenced by spiritual matters that she began to show an aversion to everything else. She refused to touch anyone. She began to shun her maids and would not even embrace her friends. She refused to eat anything cooked or touched by others. She bathed a number of times a day and buried herself in scriptures. The company of sadhus and pious men gave her solace. The arrival of any pious men in the town made her restless to visit them. The world made her weary and she often fell into a trance-like state. She would meditate for hours. She began to abhor societal bindings. After three years of being like this she decided that she wanted to become a sanyasi. When her parents heard, they were shocked. Jogeshwari tried to make her see reason.
‘Child, you are too young for these things.’
Kailash Kumari: ‘It is better to rid oneself of worldly desires as early as possible.’
Hridaynath: ‘Can’t this asceticism be practised at home?’
Jogeshwari: ‘Think of the disgrace!’
Kailash Kumari: ‘I have sacrificed myself at His feet, so why should I fear shame?’
Jogeshwari: ‘It might not bother you but we are not immune to public criticism. You are our only support. If you become a sanyasi who will look after us?’
Kailash Kumari: ‘God is our caretaker. It is wrong to depend on anyone else.’
The next day the news reached the neighbours. They began offering their opinions.
‘This had to happen. What’s new about this? You can’t give freedom to a girl. They were elated that their girl had mastered the Vedas and the Upanishads and could argue with great scholars. It’s too late to shed tears now. If a child falls while running, we stop him, pick him up and comfort him in our lap.’
After the fault-finders it was now the turn of the
