Part 5 (2/2)

[Footnote 1: A favourite conceit of the old Sanskrit poets.]

And then in the distance there is some other bird with only a faint chuck-chuck that has no energy or enthusiasm, as if all hope were lost; none the less, from within some shady nook it cannot resist uttering this little plaint: chuck, chuck, chuck.

How little we really know of the household affairs of these innocent winged creatures, with their soft, b.r.e.a.s.t.s and necks and their many-coloured feathers! Why on earth do they find it necessary to sing so persistently?

SHELIDAH,

_31st Jaistha (June)1892._

I hate these polite formalities. Nowadays I keep repeating the line: ”Much rather would I be an Arab Bedouin!” A fine, healthy, strong, and free barbarity.

I feel I want to quit this constant ageing of mind and body, with incessant argument and nicety concerning ancient decaying things, and to feel the joy of a free and vigorous life; to have,--be they good or bad,--broad, unhesitating, unfettered ideas and aspirations, free from everlasting friction between custom and sense, sense and desire, desire and action.

If only I could set utterly and boundlessly free this hampered life of mine, I would storm the four quarters and raise wave upon wave of tumult all round; I would career away madly, like a wild horse, for very joy of my own speed! But I am a Bengali, not a Bedouin! I go on sitting in my corner, and mope and worry and argue. I turn my mind now this way up, now the other--as a fish is fried--and the boiling oil blisters first this side, then that.

Let it pa.s.s. Since I cannot be thoroughly wild, it is but proper that I should make an endeavour to be thoroughly civil. Why foment a quarrel between the two?

SHELIDAH,

_16th June 1892._

The more one lives alone on the river or in the open country, the clearer it becomes that nothing is more beautiful or great than to perform the ordinary duties of one's daily life simply and naturally. From the gra.s.ses in the field to the stars in the sky, each one is doing just that; and there is such profound peace and surpa.s.sing beauty in nature because none of these tries forcibly to transgress its limitations.

Yet what each one does is by no means of little moment. The gra.s.s has to put forth all its energy to draw sustenance from the uttermost tips of its rootlets simply to grow where it is as gra.s.s; it does not vainly strive to become a banyan tree; and so the earth gains a lovely carpet of green.

And, indeed, what little of beauty and peace is to be found in the societies of men is owing to the daily performance of small duties, not to big doings and fine talk.

Perhaps because the whole of our life is not vividly present at each moment, some imaginary hope may lure, some glowing picture of a future, untrammelled with everyday burdens, may tempt us; but these are illusory.

SHELIDAH,

_2nd Asarh (June) 1892._

Yesterday, the first day of _Asarh_,[1] the enthronement of the rainy season was celebrated with due pomp and circ.u.mstance. It was very hot the whole day, but in the afternoon dense clouds rolled up in stupendous ma.s.ses.

[Footnote 1: June-July, the commencement of the rainy season.]

I thought to myself, this first day of the rains, I would rather risk getting wet than remain confined in my dungeon of a cabin.

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