Anandi Bai was also interested in philosophy, and what is more important, Gopinath was an inspirational figure for her. She respected him from the core of her heart. His patience and selfless social service had captivated her. Though she avoided praising Gopinath to his face, she sang paeans of his glory in the homes of the wealthy that she regularly visited. Where does one find such people these days? Everyone runs after name and fame. Who wants to dedicate himself to others? In her eyes, he was more than human—he was divine. How simple and lacking in extravagance were his ways! He had no personal interests or elaborate routines. Absorbed in work from morning till night, even his meals and bedtimes were not fixed. Neither was there anyone to take care of his needs. When he returned home after sweating out his blood, he would quietly accept whatever was placed before him to eat. He would then leave once again for work soon after that, picking up his cane resolutely.
It was the month of Kunwar. Preparations for Vijaya Dashami celebrations were in full swing at the girls’ school, where a play was to be performed. The building had been decorated with zest. All the well-to-do people of the city had been invited. It was difficult to say if Anandi Bai was more excited or Gopinath. While Gopinath was busy arranging for materials, Anandi Bai would put them to good use with full care and devotion. She was the author of the play too.
It was Dashami. Gopinath had been busy arranging for the floor mats and chairs for the show till the afternoon. It was one in the afternoon and Gopinath had still not gone home for lunch. Anandi then pleaded, ‘My dear sir, you are getting late for lunch. The work’s almost over now. I’ll take care of whatever little remains.’
Gopinath replied, ‘I’ll eat presently. I’m not bound by any fixed timings for meals. Who cares about going all the way home? It’ll take hours. One would feel tempted to take a short nap post lunch. It’ll become evening in the process.’
‘Food is ready at my place too. There’s a Brahmin lady who cooks. Come and eat lunch there.’
‘What should I eat here? It won’t do any harm if I were to skip a meal.’
‘Why do you need to go hungry when food is available?’
‘I think you should go, no doubt you are getting late. I was so immersed in this that I forgot about you.’
‘If you go hungry often, what harm would skipping a meal just once cause me?’
‘No, no. You don’t need to do that. Honestly, having just one meal a day is quite routine for me.’
‘Now I know why you refuse. I’m surprised that I couldn’t understand such a simple thing earlier. I’m really stupid.’
‘What have you understood? You know very well that I don’t believe in untouchability.’
‘I know that. But as for the reason you are not eating at my place, let me tell you that I’m not just your employee. I’m your spiritual lover. Your refusal to eat at my place amounts to breaking the heart of a true devotee, which is the eye with which I view you.’
Gopinath could not make any further excuse and went and ate the food. Anandi fanned him silently the entire time that he sat for the meal.
Tribhuvan Nath and other close friends had something like the following observations about this incident: ‘Lala Sahib even eats his meals there now. And, why not, both are spiritually involved. Let’s wait and watch the outcome of this spirituality.’4
The veil of self-discipline and morality began to lift. Gopinath had developed a passion for writing so that he could meet some financial needs. He would get the required expenses from home, but often, he would be hard pressed to find money for journals and books. Besides, his ego now came in the way of asking his brothers for small needs. He wanted to be capable enough to fulfil his own requirements. The children at home were noisy and a cause of disturbance for him. It seemed that his principles had not been able to affect the behavioural environment of the kids at home. As a result, whenever he felt disgusted with the atmosphere there, he would head straight for the girls’ school. Anandi Bai lived on the school premises. The silence in the environment helped him concentrate on his work. If he happened to be there at mealtimes, he would eat too. Anandi soon slipped into the role of his writer. She would write as Gopinath would speak. It was due to Gopinath’s efforts that Anandi had learnt Hindi. She soon acquired such expertise that she could write in it without hesitation. Sometimes, while writing, she would come up with such vocabulary or idioms that Gopinath was delighted, realizing that this would add great lustre to the writing. He would comment that Anandi would make a better writer than him if she took to writing. ‘I am just a useless writer while you are divinely gifted,’ he would say. The tongues of the respectable people of the town began to wag.
When have the conscience-clear lovers of philosophy cared for the evil tongues of the envious? In Anandi’s opinion, the world was free to insinuate what it may, but this would not make her refrain from interacting with one she was spiritually tied to. Gopinath was not as daring, for his dignity rested on the opinion of the masses. How could he possibly ignore them?
As a result, he changed the timings for his intellectual pursuits from daytime to the night. There wouldn’t be anyone around at night in the girls’ school. A lot of work would get done undisturbed. While he reclined on the easy chair all along, Anandi would sit at the table, looking at him, pen in hand. Her gaze would
