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Updated: May 13, 2025
One day he said to my husband: "Do you know, Nikhil, when I first saw our Queen Bee, she was sitting there so demurely in her gold- bordered sari. Her eyes were gazing inquiringly into space, like stars which had lost their way, just as if she had been for ages standing on the edge of some darkness, looking out for something unknown. But when I saw her, I felt a quiver run through me.
I was staring blankly at his retreating figure, when the sound of a book, falling from the table, made me turn to find Bee following him with quick, nervous steps, making a detour to avoid passing too near me. A curious creature, that Nikhil! He feels the danger threatening his home, and yet why does he not turn me out? I know, he is waiting for Bimal to give him the cue.
What I should like to be able to tell Nikhil frankly is, that happenings such as these must be looked in the face as great Realities and that which is the Truth should not be allowed to stand between true friends. There is no denying that I have really weakened. It was not this weakness which won over Bimala; she burnt her wings in the blaze of the full strength of my unhesitating manliness.
"That I cannot help," Nikhil replied. "A machine is distinct enough, but not so life. If to gain distinctness you try to know life as a machine, then such mere distinctness cannot stand for truth. The soul is not as distinct as success, and so you only lose your soul if you seek it in your success." "Where, then, is this wonderful soul?"
"If the idea of a United India is a true one," objects Nikhil, "Mussulmans are a necessary part of it." "Quite so," said I, "but we must know their place and keep them there, otherwise they will constantly be giving trouble." "So you want to make trouble to prevent trouble?" "What, then, is your plan?" "There is only one well-known way of avoiding quarrels," said Nikhil meaningly.
I tell you, Nikhil, man's history has to be built by the united effort of all the races in the world, and therefore this selling of conscience for political reasons this making a fetish of one's country, won't do. I know that Europe does not at heart admit this, but there she has not the right to pose as our teacher.
Those who want to do real work must not ignore this fact. Nikhil only got excited. "Because you have lost the power of walking in the path of truth's attainment," he cried, "you keep waiting for some miraculous boon to drop from the skies!
The profit and loss account has been settled, and that which remains is myself not a crippled self, dressed in rags and tatters, not a sick self to be nursed on invalid diet, but a spirit which has gone through the worst, and has survived. My master passed through my room a moment ago and said with his hand on my shoulder. "Get away to bed, Nikhil, the night is far advanced."
Bee was silent for a while and then gravely said: "Is it not a part of human nature to try and rise superior to itself?" I smiled inwardly. "These are not your words", I thought to myself. "You have learnt them from Nikhil. You are a healthy human being. Your flesh and blood have responded to the call of reality. You are burning in every vein with life-fire do I not know it?
But you know the ghost is never laid till all the rites are complete." With these words he brought out of his pocket something tied in his handkerchief, and laying it on the table, undid the knot. It was those sovereigns. "Don't you mistake me, Nikhil," he said.
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