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Updated: May 13, 2025
During my stay I became good friends with many of the people at the Croc Bank including the six foot tall Director, Romulus Whitaker, whom everyone calls Rom; his wife, Zai Whitaker; their sons Samir and Nikhil; Harry Andrews, the Deputy Director who hails from Kerala; Romaine, his wife and their son Tharak, Gerry the snake-catcher from Bangalore and many others.
That would be a grand place to inaugurate the worship of our goddess! Bimala waxed intensely enthusiastic. This was not the burning of foreign cloth or the people's granaries, so even Nikhil could have no objection so thought she. But I smiled inwardly. How little these two persons, who have been together, day and night, for nine whole years, know of each other!
No, say I, it is the truth nay more, the truth which the country has so long been waiting to learn from my lips. If only I could get the opportunity to deliver my message, you would see the stupendous result." "What I am afraid of," said Nikhil, "is, that my lifetime is limited and the result you speak of is not the final result. It will have after-effects which may not be immediately apparent."
You would go on wounding the great, the unselfish, the beautiful in man." "What mad idea is this of yours?" Nikhil suddenly stood up. "I tell you plainly, Sandip," he said, "man may be wounded unto death, but he will not die. This is the reason why I am ready to suffer all, knowing all, with eyes open." With these words he hurriedly left the room.
"It is getting late," he said. "There is not much time left to complete our preparations for the journey." At this point Chandranath Babu suddenly came in. Finding us both together, he fell back for a moment. Then he said, "Forgive me, my little mother, if I intrude. Nikhil, the Mussulmans are out of hand. They are looting Harish Kundu's treasury. That does not so much matter.
I recall the day Gerry challenged Nikhil "the bodybuilder" to pull a monitor lizard that was half out of a burrow. At first he thought the monitor's tail would break but though he tugged with all his might his rippling muscles couldn't move an inch of the monitor. In the mornings, I helped the workers clean the croc pits, a task which I thoroughly enjoyed.
The world would have been not half a bad place to live in but for these schoolmasters, who make one want to quit in disgust. The Nikhil type wants to keep the world always a school. This incarnation of a school turned up that afternoon at the psychological moment. We all remain schoolboys in some corner of our hearts, and I, even I, felt somewhat pulled up.
I know that the immediate often swallows up the ultimate; that the five thousand rupees of today may nip in the bud the fifty thousand rupees of tomorrow. But I must accept the penalty. Have I not often twitted Nikhil that they who walk in the paths of restraint have never known what sacrifice is? It is we greedy folk who have to sacrifice our greed at every step!
The chief controversy between Nikhil and myself arises from this: that though I say "know thyself", and Nikhil also says "know thyself", his interpretation makes this "knowing" tantamount to "not knowing". "Winning your kind of success," Nikhil once objected, "is success gained at the cost of the soul: but the soul is greater than success." I simply said in answer: "Your words are too vague."
"What has your book to do with Swadeshi?" "You would know if you only read it. Nikhil wants to go by made- up maxims, in Swadeshi as in everything else; so he knocks up against human nature at every turn, and then falls to abusing it. He never will realize that human nature was created long before phrases were, and will survive them too."
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