Page:Works of Tagore from the Modern Review, 1909-24 Segment 1.pdf/29

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214
THE MODERN REVIEW FOR MARCH, 1910

out. Having undergone one or two family bereavements shortly before, it naturally reminded me of death. "In the hour of midnight here"—thought I—"a flame of light has dissolved into eternal darkness. To Nature, the sudden extinction of human lives, sometimes in the day and sometimes at night, is nothing more serious than this".

Gradually my thoughts ran back to that skeleton of yore. As I was trying to imagine what it might have been during life, I suddenly seemed to perceive that some live thing was walking round and round my bed, groping over the walls in the dark. I seemed to hear its heavy breathing too,—as though it was searching for some object,—and pacing faster and faster as it could not find what it wanted. I felt certain that there was nothing except in my sleepless, heated brain I must be mistaking for rapid footfalls, the tumultuous rush of blood inside my own head. But still, I confess, I felt it a bit uncanny. In order to rid myself of this unreasonable fear, I said—"Who's there?"—The footfalls came towards my ben-curtain and stopped and then came the reply—"'Tis me. I have come to look for that skeleton of mine."

Thinking it ridiculous to be frightened by a creature of my own imagination, I said non-chalantly—"A nice job for you to do at this hour! What do you want it now for, pray?"

"What do you mean?"—Came the reply from a spot quite close to my bed—"Did it not contain the very ribs of my heart? The youthful bloom of my twenty-six years once adorned that skeleton. Is it strange that I should like to see it again?"

"Yes, you are right"—I said immediately—"You may go on searching. I will try to get a little sleep now."

"You are alone here—are you?"—She said in a tone sweetly sad—"Let me sit and have a chat with you. Thirty-five years ago I used to sit with human beings and talk with them. This thirty-five years have I drifted about in the moaning wind of cremation-grounds. I shall sit by you and talk like a human being once more."

I perceived some one sitting down near my bed-curtain. Since it could not be helped I mustered courage to say—"Thanks, it would be nice. Tell me some pleasant story."

"If you want to hear something very interesting"—said she "I will tell you the story of my own life." At this moment the church-clock proclaimed the hour of two. She went on—

"When I was a human being and quite small, I used to fear one person as the very Yama[1] himself—and that person was my husband. My feelings in respect to him were like those of a fish after swallowing a hook. To me he seemed a horrid stranger determined to drag me out of the deep and tranquil waters of my birth-lake and from whose hands I had no chance of escape. Two month after my marriage, my husband died and my people bewailed my lot for me. My father-in-law made a scrutinising inspection of my persona1 features and said to his wife—"This girl is what is described as a poison-maid in our ancient books." Oh, I distinctly remember his words. But, are you listening?—How do yo like the story?"

"Very well, indeed"—I replied—"The beginning is just delightful."

"Listen then. Joyfully I returned to my paternal home. Day by day I grew up into a pretty girl. People tried to conceal it from me but I knew perfectly well that beauty like mine was not to be found everywhere. What is your opinion?"

"Very probably"—I answered—"Only, I never had the pleasure of seeing you."

"Hadn't you, really? Why, that skeleton of mine?"—and she burst into a rippling laughter—"I was only joking. How can I persuade you now that those two empty sockets once contained two large black eyes and the smile that used to play on my crimson lips could in no way be compared with the hideous grin you saw in the skeleton's teeth-bare mouth. To relate to you the grace and beauty that blossomed forth every day round those dry and lanky bones, the absurdity of it tickles me and provokes me to anger too. Not even the greatest doctor in those days could believe that lessons in Anatomy might be learnt from my frame. I am aware that one particular doctor mentioned me as Kanak Chámpá to an intimate friend of his. It meant that all other human bodies might furnish object-lessons in Anatomy and Physiology, only I was like a flower, the embodiment of beauty. There is no skeleton

  1. Yama—the God of Death in Hindoo mythology.