Gopinath gradually lost interest in college life. If any subject interested him, it was philosophy. The college curriculum had become an obstacle in his specialized pursuit of it. Quitting college, he was free to devote himself entirely to the study of philosophy. But his enthusiasm for social service also began to grow, along with his fetish for philosophy. As was inevitable, he soon began to be seen in the company of the social workers of the city. Philosophy brought scepticism and a feeling of being in the dark, and tension of the spirit, while community service offered fame, honour and the benefits of both. His vitality and vigour, which had lain buried beneath the veneer of philosophical debates for ages, was reignited with a vengeance and Gopinath jumped into the scene of community development with a bang. The scene was quiet and the field clear. There was no dearth of flag-bearers, but a heart which held sincere desire for service was hard to find. He found himself very much in demand. Before long, he was pulled into becoming the secretary of one organization, president of another, or playing some or the other such role. The penchant for philosophy got lost somewhere in his enthusiasm for service. The bird that used to sing in confinement forgot its melodies in the open fields. Though he continued the practice of spending some time turning over the pages of his favourite philosophy books for a short while every day, there was no scope for deeper reflection or inquiry in this direction. However, he would often find himself in the throes of a dilemma. Where should I head? This way or that? If philosophy pulled him in one direction, love for community service pulled him in another. One day, as he sat on the banks of the river Ganga, ridden with similar confusion, he noticed that the river continued on its course, eagerly flowing towards its destination, unaware of the din on its banks and unaffected by the strong blowing wind. Why don’t I emulate the river, thought the philosopher. He began to try and recall the name of some philosopher who had involved himself in community service while also diving in the ocean of Reality. Pandit Tribhuvan Nath Agnihotri, a professor at his college, strolled up just then.
‘So, how’s life?’ he asked.
Gopinath replied indifferently, ‘Nothing special, life goes on at its own pace.’
Tribhuvan Nath asked, ‘Whose name have you proposed for municipal ward number twenty-one?’
Gopinath said in reply, ‘Let’s see who gets selected. Aren’t you one of the prospectives too?’
‘I have been coaxed into it by the people, though I hardly have the time.’
‘I agree with you, I don’t think a professor should dabble in active politics.’
Tribhuvan Nath felt annoyed. After a moment’s silence, he spoke, trying to get even with him, ‘Do you still spend as much time reading philosophy as you did earlier?’
‘Very little. I am caught in a state of indecision. Should I join the nationalist movement full-time or devote my life to the pursuit of Truth?’
‘The time for you to dabble in nationalist movements will come later. Now is the time for you to acquire knowledge and till such time as you achieve stability and seriousness of belief you should not think of entering new fields impulsively. You are still young. Serving the nation calls for great responsibility.’
Gopinath made his decision. He would devote his life to the service of the nation. Tribhuvan Nath made his decision too. He would show them how one could combine teaching with serving the municipality.2
Gopinath already occupied some status in life with a well-to-do family behind him. They were dealers in sugar and gold and silver. His father was a renowned businessman in his area. There were two older brothers who followed in his father’s trade. There was unity in the family in addition to wealth. It was a thriving family with several children. All that was lacking was education, and a reputation in educated circles. Gopinath got them that too. His lack of employment did not bother anyone. No one forced him to think of his bread and butter. With no anxieties of any kind, he surrendered himself totally to social welfare with complete freedom. He would collect funds for an orphanage at one place or go asking for charity for a destitute girl’s marriage at another. His selflessness, accompanied by strong determination, had infused new life into social welfare activities. Such activities kept him busy from morning to evening, sometimes even up until night. Seeing him standing, morning and evening, with his donation notebook tucked under his arms at the doorsteps of the affluent had become a familiar sight. Gradually, the number of his followers increased. People described him as unselfish, selfless, sacrificing and a true servant of the masses. It was rare to come across someone labouring so selflessly for a purely social cause. Even such people who were not beholden to him in any way felt inspired by him. At times, he would even have to endure indifference and hostility at the hands of the wealthy, to the extent of putting up with rebukes and censure. Every passing day, he realized that social service is more or less the same as devoting oneself to the task of asking for donations. For this purpose, he would have to pay court to the wealthy, in other words, flatter them. What a vast difference existed between a disinterested study of philosophy and this
