Prior to Anandi’s entry in his life, Gopinath had had no first-hand experiences with the fairer sex. He had read past as well as contemporary philosophers on this issue. Almost all schools described a woman as a deterrent to spiritual evolution and an obstacle to a nation’s growth. She was portrayed as one who directed the heart towards backwardness and narrow-mindedness, and as a poisonous snake who led you towards carnal desire, a doubly charged wine and a double-edged sword. Western thinkers, too, entertained a similar opinion. These were some reasons which had prompted celibacy in him. But his personal experience was now telling him that a woman could also perform socially relevant tasks. She could also be a friend and companion on the path of Truth. Her company could lend support to good actions, too. The thought then crossed his mind that had Anandi been his proposed wife, he wouldn’t have had any issues in marrying. Rather, he would have sailed through life comfortably with her by his side.
Once, when he reached Anandi’s, he had a headache and didn’t find himself inclined towards writing anything. Anandi began to massage his head with oil. Much as he tried to find ways to resist her ministrations, she still managed to pour the oil on to his head. Gopinath felt a strange feeling of comfort and happiness envelop him and his emotions urged him towards speech but he did not allow a single syllable of pain or yearning to escape. Yes, he stopped visiting Anandi’s place from that day. An entire week passed without him visiting there. Anandi wrote to him. I really need you to come over. I have to consult you over certain administrative decisions regarding the school. Gopinath did not reply. Anandi wrote again. Your book is lying unfinished. It can soon go to the press if you complete it. He didn’t go over even then. She wrote a third time. It seems you are upset with me. I haven’t done anything against your wishes on purpose. However, I regard it below my dignity to stay here any more if you are angry with me. I will hand over charge to the school teacher and leave if you still don’t come.
Gopinath still did not relent. After two months of indifference towards Anandi, it came to light that she was ill and hadn’t been attending school for the past two days. He then found himself unable to offer any pretence or excuse and approached her with some sense of hesitation and embarrassment. Stepping into her room, he found her lying silently in bed with a pale face and spent body. Seeing him, she tried to get up, complaint writ large on her face. Gopinath told her to lie still, saying,
‘I’m sitting down. Did the doctor visit or not?’ The attendant woman replied in the affirmative, saying that the doctor had visited twice and had prescribed the medicine.
Going over the prescription, Gopinath guessed that the ailment seemed to have something to do with the heart. Most of the medicines prescribed were tranquilizers or resistance-building tonics. When he looked again at Anandi, her face was streaming with tears. His heart brimmed over and finding himself in the grip of strong emotion, he said, ‘Why didn’t you inform me earlier? Things wouldn’t have taken such a bad turn had you done so.’
‘Never mind, I’ll get well. I’ll get well soon. And even if I were to die, who would mourn me?’ She started sobbing loudly.
Gopinath may have been a philosopher, but his emotions hadn’t dried up entirely yet. He said in a quivering voice, ‘There’s at least one person in this world who can give up his life for you.’
He halted even as he uttered these words, finding his speech a little out of tune. He would have preferred something far more profound and sophisticated than the common vulgar statement he had made to express his feelings. But all such words eluded him.
Anandi gave him a complaining look and said, ‘In whose care did you leave me for the past two months?’
‘I didn’t abandon you, I was lamenting my destiny. I don’t know how I managed to stop myself from committing suicide. I hadn’t realized that it would be so difficult to remain true to my commitment. I didn’t write a single word during this time or turn over a single leaf of a journal. I hardly slept a wink at night. It was just one thought, one image. Just one desire had lodged itself in my heart, day and night.’
Anandi took Gopinath’s hand in hers and said, ‘You won’t neglect me in this manner ever again?’
‘What would be the outcome?’
‘Whatever.’
‘Come what may?’
‘Yes, come what may.’
‘Scandal, humiliation, ill fame, loss of face.’
‘I can endure anything and everything. And for my sake, you too have to be willing to endure the same.’
‘I can put myself on offer for the sake of my love, but not so my good name. I can’t tolerate the raised eyebrows of those who point fingers at me and humiliate me with their insinuations.’
‘Then don’t, for you have earned your name through extreme sacrifice and I don’t want to deprive you of it.’ (Taking Gopinath’s hand.) ‘I just want this. I don’t harbour desire for anything more than this sacrifice.’
‘How can the two coexist?’
‘They can, for me, they can. I can even put my spirit on offer for your love.’5
From then, Gopinath started speaking ill of Anandi. ‘She doesn’t pay attention to work,’ he would tell his friends. ‘The earlier devotion is lacking.’ To someone else, he’d say, ‘She’s not satisfied with this place now and wants to move on. She
