One day (ஒரு நாள்) by Nakulan.

 

This is an English translation of “Oru Naal”, a short story written by Nakulan. Translated into English by Saravanan Karmegam.

…

The disciples were making their visits frequently to Paramahamsa, who was leading his life without letting his cogitations stray from this world with his resolute love for the god. Narendranath Dutta, who later became famous all over the world; Saint Dodapuri, who had taught Paramahamsa Vedas and Upanishads and never yet been caught in the mundane; his relative Hridhay Mukhejee; Brahma Samajis Keshav Chandrasenar, Shivnath Babu Sastri, and Pratap Chandra Majumdar; ardent follower of rituals Krishna Kishor; singers Gourangaswamy and Nityananda Swamy; physician Sasathar Pandit; millionaire Yadunath Mallik; and Madura Babu, the son-in-law of the queen Rojamani—all were paying their homage to Paramahamsa to seek some time for a casual conversation with him. Those who watched Paramahamsa, for the first time, speaking with them with a complete fascination for the worldly matters would find it difficult to digest the fact that he was an ascetic. Everyone—from Yadunath Mallik to scavenger Kunjan—was narrating their share of woes in life and returned with a peace of mind after listening to the didactic tales from Paramahamsa. It wasn’t certain when they would all come and leave. They would be waiting till he came out of his deep slumber that looked as if he had been in deep thought. If that slumber went on—sometimes it would last even for two or three days—they would either wait till he came out of the meditation or leave a message with Dodapuri that they would visit again.

This Dodapuri was different from Saint Dodapuri. He belonged to the cadre of men who were followers of Paramahamsa. He had been an accountant in the grocery shop run by Govindji Chet in Dakshineshwar. His wife died, leaving behind a sixteen-year-old boy, Naveenan. Dodapuri was madly in love with his wife. There was a reason behind it. He had acquired a serious bout of tuberculosis before his marriage due to his philandering way of life. Seeing his wife’s steadfast devotion to the god and unfaltering following of rituals, he changed his mind. She died after reminding him that it was his duty to take care of his son Naveenan. After that, Dodapuri was very protective of his son, though he didn’t display his affection visibly.   Naveenan must have been ten years old when his wife died. Seeing the divine glow on Naveenan’s face, Paramahamsa deputed him to collect flowers, make garlands, and sing hymns for worshipping the goddess. Dodapuri wasn’t aware of it. One day, when Naveenan didn’t turn up home for a long time, he came to know through the scavenger Kunjan that Naveenan had gone to the ashram and went there. He saw Naveenan asking Gourangaswamy whether Paramahamsa died, as he hadn’t seen him sitting in meditation before. Dodapuri, visibly perplexed, took his son along with him.

His mind remained restless after coming home. When he went to the ashram, Yadunath Mallik and Madura Babu were discussing something in a lowered voice, sitting away from the visitors, frequently setting their eyes on Paramahamsa. Dodapuri, who lived on alms, found it strange. He knew that Yadunath Mallik and Madura Babu were stinkingly rich. He couldn’t make out why those men were paying frequent visits to the ashram. He knew about the rumour being spread in the village that Yadunath Mallik wanted to increase his wealth through Paramahamsa, but that eccentric saint did not accede to his demands. After his initial visit to the ashram, Dodapuri couldn’t avoid going to the ashram very frequently. He had obtained permission from his master, Govindji Chet, to visit the ashram every Friday night at eight o'clock after attending to the work before one o'clock. His visits to the ashram had made him have a high opinion about Paramahamsa. There was no fixed time for the visitors to come to the ashram. If Govindji Chet received his high-profile customers—be it Avinath Chatterjee or Rampandit Muherjee—they would get a royal reception. Govindji Chet would assign the responsibility of ensuring proper hospitality to Dodapuri. Dodapuri was very pleased to do that.

During his visits to the ashram, if any important visitor came—like Chandrasenar or Sasadhar Pandit—Paramahamsa would throw a pleasing smile at him. Dodapuri would then look after those visitors as well. It had become a routine. He turned his ears deaf to the critics who mocked his unquestionable servility.

Dodapuri was tall and had a complexion of a completely dried fish. He had thick hair on his head with a tiny tuft at the centre. He was wearing a starched, crumpled linen below and a towel-like cloth on his upper body. A small silver vial containing snuff would always be dangling at his waist, which he used to sniff deeply whenever his heart brimmed with ecstasy. The inmates of the ashram would pass snide remarks at him for this too. Dodapuri would keep telling the people he met how effectively Paramahamsa had referred to his sniffing habit in the moral stories he preached.

It had been three years since Dodapuri started visiting the ashram. A thought, a formless one, had been pestering his mind perpetually for those three years. He couldn’t believe that he was still unable to release himself from the clutches of those thoughts. When he pondered over this, he remembered Paramahamsa telling his disciples that in spite of Dodapuri being very close to him for three years, he was still unable to stop Dodapuri’s habit of sniffing snuff even once.

Naveenan had completed his schooling now. During his days in the ashram, Paramahamsa would ask him to bring him some snuff for an ana in the evenings when he returned. Naveenan, an obedient boy in Paramahamsa’s opinion, would never fail to bring him snuff. That Naveenan had now completed his studies in school. During that time, a new university had been opened in Kolkata. Apart from the insistence of his wife, it was Dodapuri’s aspiration that he wanted his son to pursue his higher studies and sit on a coveted job. When he first visited the ashram, he was mentally prepared for it, even without his knowledge. Now it had assumed a mammoth proportion, as he was very clear about what he aspired to. Because, when he first visited the ashram, it was not Paramahmasa, who was sitting in a deep meditation, who attracted his attention; it was Yadunath Mallik and Madura Babu. Later he was troubled with the thought that he returned without paying proper homage to Paramahamsa. His heart started palpitating at a faster rate as he grew aware that the objective he nurtured that day had now grown into a full-fledged dream with its limbs. Somehow assuaging his agitation, he left. He had obtained a leave for today from his boss yesterday itself.

It was midday. The sun was scorching above. He sniffed a pinch of snuff before leaving as if to ease the turbulence in his mind, covered his head with the towel, and then walked down with mild steps as though having no feet. While walking, he struggled not to think about the task he was planning to do and then remained for some while without thinking about it and then struggled to rein his mind from jumping into what he was struggling with earlier, and then his troubled strides brought him back to his senses when he walked four steps past the ashram. As his senses pulled him back, he reached the ashram.

There were none in the ashram as he expected other than Ramakrishna Paramahamsa. Even Hridhay was also not present there. He felt relieved at seeing Paramahamsa not sitting in meditation. He then walked towards a well in the ashram, gently fanning his face with his upper cloth. He was deliberately doing all these slowly.

He then went to Paramahamsa, paid his regards, and sat down without uttering anything. Paramahamsa smiled at him, seeing his silence, and asked,

Doda, is the shop closed today?”

“It is open.”

“Is your boss unwell?”

“He is very fine.”

“Have you come here in search of Naveenan? Though he is not a small boy, you still come here searching for him. It seems that my brain has grown rusty. Had I listened to my elder brother’s advice and joined Kolkata University, I wouldn’t have asked such questions,” he laughed, telling this. Those words made Dodapuri’s heart sink further in uneasiness. Concealing that uneasiness with the layer of stubbornness, he took out some snuff from the silver casket and started speaking slowly.

“I have come here to speak about Naveenan.”

“Naveenan is a good boy.”

“I would like you to come with me to Roymahasayar’s home.”

“I don’t know him.”

“You don’t have to know about him. I know him. He is Madura Babu’s friend.”

“Naveenan hasn’t yet become mature. Has he?”

“I don’t mean that. Roymahasayar is a rich man. He is not blessed with children. While coming to our shop, he used to inquire about Naveenan. I want Naveenan to pursue his higher studies and come up well in his life. My financial position won’t allow me to do that. That is why I want to meet him to seek financial help and support. I want him to take care of Naveenan.”

“But…”

“I seek your pardon. Let me complete speaking. I want to see Naveenan holding a big post and coming here as your disciple to meet you with my hospitality.”

“How can I be of any help in this?”

“You don’t have to open your mouth to say anything. You just come with me and sit beside me.” Dodapuri looked up to his face eagerly as if all his desires had taken his form.  

Paramahamsa did not make him wait for long. He collected his only upper cloth lying on a clothesline, turned to Dodapuri when he was about to walk down, and said, “Ensure a sufficient amount of snuff in the silver casket,” and smiled. Dodapuri, who was preoccupied with some other thoughts, replied, “Yes. It is there.” They didn’t speak anything after that. Both covered their heads with a towel and strode towards Roymahasayar’s house, located after four streets. They saw Roymahasayar standing at the doorway of his house, fanning himself. As he knew Dodapuri, he remained quiet without extending any customary entreaties.

Dodapuri greeted him with folded hands, forcefully though, and went near to him. He pointed to Paramahamsa, voluntarily again, who was standing at a distance with an inevitable glow. Roymahasayar invited them to come into the house and walked in front.

Soon after they went in, Dodapuri took out one of the wooden planks leaning against the wall and kept on the floor and requested Paramahamsa to sit on it. Paramahamsa sat down, keeping his upper cloth on his lap. Dodapuri began speaking:

“The saffron powder you asked me for some days ago has just reached the shop.”

“What a funny thing it is! Have you come here in this sweltering, skinning heat just to inform me of this petty thing, and that too with this old man?”

Dodapuri’s anxiety grew thicker. He turned and felt relieved at seeing Paramahamsa sitting on the wooden plank with his eyes half closed. To get his nerves bolder, he took out some snuff, sniffed it, stood hesitantly a while, and then said, “Pardon me, sir. Rojamani madam had sent a messenger from Kolkata to get it.”

Roymahasayar, who was listening to him disinterestedly, jumped off and sat straight. Dodapuri knew that Royamahasayar had an enduring illicit relationship with Rojamani after the death of his wife, and all her expenses were accounted for in his name in the shop.

“???” Roymahasayar looked up to him, eagerly waiting for him to resume his talk.

“I just got the information that we have received the saffron powder. I have taken a leave today. I thought of sending it to you through Naveenan. I heard that Chet also closed his shop early. So, I thought of paying a visit to you.”

Roymahasayar, who was visibly happy at hearing Rojamani’s name, asked him, “I like this name, Naveenan. Who is he? Is he working in your shop?”

“No…he just needs your help.”

“My help?” Roymahasayar asked as his eyes were fixed on Paramahamsa. Paramahamsa was still sitting in a meditative state.

“He is a good boy. My only son. He has been helping with divine errands in the ashram. He has completed his studies in school. I want him to pursue his higher studies and get a respectable job. Sooner it came to my mind than did I come here.”

Roymahasayar led Dodapuri to a separate room. With the same formless feeling that he nurtured in his heart three years ago, he followed him. Paramahamsa was still sitting like a wooden plank.

“Dodapuri, I don’t have to tell you more. We both have lost our spouses. We have seen enough of this world. You know well that I have never wanted to go anywhere near Paramahamsa’s ashram. You have been going there for the last three years. Today, you have brought him also here.”

Growing enormously apprehensive of what he had in store to speak out, Dodapuri requested him to pause a while, sniffed the snuff, and then asked him to resume.

Even if I don’t go there, I know about Paramahamsa. I know why Mallik and his friends were dallying with him. But I don’t speak about all these. I hate gossips. But one thing: I am not a well-educated man. You might know that even Paramahamsa also didn’t like to get educated. But what are we doing now? If you genuinely seek true wisdom and status, you don’t have to pursue any studies. Are you getting what I am saying?”

Dodapuri just nodded his head, unable to speak as he experienced an unfathomable pain possibly caused by an overflow of stress people usually face when they are seized by uncontainable emotions and his obvious attempts to control his sobs. The image of his wife, Paramahamsa, who was sitting without any movement, and the innocent face of Naveenan in his home—all together flashed like lightning in the nebulous space of the interiors of his mind.

“I know. You are a well-informed man. I like this name, Naveenan. I also want to help him to come up in his life. But I don’t want to spoil his life by getting him educated. I just want to teach him how to acquire skills and amass wealth, if at all you are okay with it.”

Dodapuri nodded his head again, perceptibly due to the fear that rose up to his neck from his heart to choke him like a ball of butter that had been churned out of buttermilk.

“I have a very good opinion about Paramahamsa. What he had told about women is fully correct. But, Dodapuri, can we control our semen even if that devil himself directs us to do so? Dodapuri, I have been receiving information that Rojamani is whoring around. I must conduct myself within a set rule of life. Mustn’t I? I will have no such trouble if I have a man to keep me calm. What I have told you is not true. I know about Naveenan. Madura Babu has told me about Naveenan that he is a good boy with divine appeal. He can work in Rojamani’s house and be my trusted man so that I can get rid of this trouble. You don’t worry about him anymore. You just leave him in my care. What do you say?”

Dodapuri struggled his best to contain his anger that erupted like a storm from the nebulous space of his heart, got up, and said, “I will meet you tomorrow.” Roymahasayar followed him to the hall, coaxing him, “Think about it and come with a good decision.” Their arrival at the hall coincided with Paramahamsa getting up from his seat.

Paramahamsa and Dodapuri walked down slowly to the ashram. When Dodapuri was about to bid goodbye, Paramahamsa looked at him and said, “You don’t need to tell me anything. Roymahasayar must have taught you more in three hours than what you have learnt, and missed learning from me in these three years. We both can pay him our obeisance. Now you must have understood the reason behind why I accompanied you,” and then bid him goodbye.

The next day, though Roymahasayar was surprised at the news that Naveenan had become a priest in the ashram, he chose to remain unconcerned about it.

                                                      ***Ended***