A
Little Tale
By SRI SURESH CHANDRA CHAKRAVARTY
(Rendered by the Author from his Bengali original)
Once upon a time the man was very foolish and
absurdly egoistic. So he used to consider and treat the woman as his slave. He
put iron chains round her frail ankles and in such a way that they might not
hamper her in doing household work but prevented her from running away from his
home.
And the woman–she too, as if agreeing with the
man’s sentiment, used to live like a slave. Who could say what was in her mind?
But she used to go quietly about the house and placidly do the household work.
She kept his home neat and clean and at the close of the day, after lighting
the evening lamp, she prayed to all the gods to keep his home from harm’s way
She prepared his food, made his drink and gathered flowers for his worship. And
the man in his absurd egoism used to take everything for granted and in
tremendous self-complacency thought–“Ah! she does so much for me because she
can’t do without me.”
When the Creator saw the working of the man’s said
to Himself “Now let us enjoy a bit of fun.”
So one day when the man was out hunting, He, the
Creator, took away the woman and hid her beyond His ken.
That day when the man came back home, tired and
hungry and thirsty, he found that nothing was kept ready against his coming–no
food for his hunger, no drink for his thirst, and no flowers for his
worship–there was none to administer to his want and comfort. He was beside
himself with anger. He jumped about like a helpless pampered child, tore his
hair in rage and shouted hoarse, calling the woman. But she did not appear.
Instead, appeared the Creator before him and very
innocently asked–“What is the matter?”
“Matter?” exploded the man, “Where is that accursed
woman? It was she who was doing everything for me–she prepared food for my
hunger, got ready my drink and gathered flowers for my worship.”
“Is that all?” enquired the Creator. “Yes,” said
the man, and, somewhat puzzled, asked–“Then what else?”
The Creator did not reply to his query but
said–“All right, you will get everything ready for you–food for your hunger,
drink for you thirst and flowers for your worship.”
Thereafter, through, the intervention of the
Creator, by some unseen power the man began to get everything read for him–the
food for his hunger, the drink for his thirst and the flowers for his worship.
But the woman did not come back.
So day after day, punctual to the very minute, the
man got whatever he required.
But something was amiss–something very subtle,
something unexplainable was not there, was lost altogether. Now the food was
only food, the drink was only drink and the flowers were only flowers. As if
the food had lost its flavour, the drink its coolness and the flowers their
fragrance. The whole business seemed to him to be a mockery arranged by some
impish intelligence–a cruel heartless machine-moved clock-work and, by
thunder!, how atrocious! how unbearable!
That day the man came from his day’s labour tired
and jaded. He found everything ready as usual–the food for his hunger, the
drink for his thirst and the flowers for his worship. They all seemed to be
mocking at him with a silent cruel mockery. All on a sudden a maddening frenzy
took possession of his soul. Tears of anger burst forth from his eyes. He
kicked away the food, poured out the drink and trampled on it, and had a
devil’s dance over the flowers kept for his gods. He began to shout and roar
like a giant in helpless rage.
The Creator appeared before him and asked–”What is
the matter again?
“Matter? the man exploded like a barrel of
dynamite, “Matter? Who wants all this heartless mockery? Take it away–and give
me back my woman.”
The Creator smiled and gave him back the woman.
That day the man took off the iron chains from her
feet and put golden bangles on her arms and a necklace of pearls round her
neck, and, clasping her to his heart, choked with emotion, said–“Thou art no
slave, thou–thou art the song, the enchantment that fills the emptiness of my
universe.”