VII. A
TRAGEDY (contd.)
So the day came. It is difficult fully to describe my
condition. There were, on the one hand, the zeal for
'reform', and the novelty of making a momentous departure
in life. There was, on the other, the shame of hiding
like a thief to do this very thing. I cannot say which of
the two swayed me more. We went in search of a lonely
spot by the river, and there I saw, for the first time in
my life,- meat. There was baker's bread also. I relished
neither. The goat's meat was as tough as leather. I
simply could not eat it. I was sick and had to leave off
eating.
I had a very bad night afterwards. A horrible
night-mare haunted me. Every time I dropped off to sleep
it would seem as though a live goat were bleating inside
me, and I would jump up full of remorse. But then I would
remind myself that meat-eating was a duty and so become
more cheerful.
My friend was not a man to give in easily. He now
began to cook various delicacies with meat, and dress
them neatly. And for dining, no longer was the secluded
spot on the river chosen, but a State house, with its
dining hall, and tables and chairs, about which my friend
had made arrangements in collusion with the chief cook
there.
This bait had its effect. I got over my dislike for
bread, forswore my compassion for the goats, and became a
relisher of meat-dishes, if not of meat itself. This went
on for about a year. But not more than half a dozen
meat-feasts were enjoyed in all; because the State house
was not available every day, and there was the obvious
difficulty about frequently preparing expensive savoury
meat-dishes. I had no money to pay for this 'reform'. My
friend had therefore always to find the wherewithal. I
had no knowledge where he found it. But find it he did,
because he was bent on turning me into a meat-eater. But
even his means must have been limited, and hence these
feasts had necessarily to be few and far between.
Whenever I had occasion to indulge in these
surreptitious feasts, dinner at home was out of the
question. My mother would naturally ask me to come and
take my food and want to know the reason why I did not
wish to eat. I would say to her, 'I have no appetite
today; there is something wrong with my digestion.' It
was not without compunction that I devised these
pretexts. I knew I was lying, and lying to my mother. I
also knew that, if my mother and father came to know of
my having become a meat-eater, they would be deeply
shocked. This knowledge was gnawing at my heart.
Therefore I said to myself: 'Though it is essential to
eat meat, and also essential to take up food 'reform' in
the country, yet deceiving and lying to one's father and
mother is worse than not eating meat. In their lifetime,
therefore, meat-eating must be out of the question. When
they are no more and I have found my freedom, I will eat
meat openly, but until that moment arrives I will abstain
from it.'
This decision I communicated to my friend, and I have
never since gone back to meat. My parents never knew that
two of their sons had become meat-eaters.
I abjured meat out of the purity of my desire not to
lie to my parents, but I did not abjure the company of my
friend. My zeal for reforming him had proved disastrous
for me, and all the time I was completely unconscious of
the fact.
The same company would have led me into faithlessness
to my wife. But I was saved by the skin of my teeth. My
friend once took me to a brothel. He sent me in with the
necessary instructions. It was all prearranged. The bill
had already been paid. I went into the jaws of sin, but
God in His infinite mercy protected me against myself. I
was almost struck blind and dumb in this den of vice. I
sat near the woman on her bed, but I was tongue-tied. She
naturally lost patience with me, and showed me the door,
with abuses and insults. I then felt as though my manhood
had been injured, and wished to sink into the ground for
shame. But I have ever since given thanks to God for
having saved me. I can recall four more similar incidents
in my life, and in most of them my good fortune, rather
than any effort on my part, saved me. From a strictly
ethical point of view, all these occasions must be
regarded as moral lapses; for the carnal desire was
there, and it was as good as the act. But from the
ordinary point of view, a man who is saved from
physically committing sin is regarded as saved. And I was
saved only in that sense. There are some actions from
which an escape is a godsend both for the man who escapes
and for those about him. Man, as soon as he gets back his
consciousness of right, is thankful to the Divine mercy
for the escape. As we know that a man often succumbs to
temptation, however much he say resist it, we also know
that Providence often intercedes and saves him in spite
of himself. How all this happens,- how far a man is free
and how far a creature of carcumstances,- how far
free-will comes into play and where fate enters on the
scene, all this is a mystery and will remain a mystery.
But to go on with the story. Even this was far from
opening my eyes to the viciousness of my friend's
company. I therefore had many more bitter draughts in
store for me, until my eyes were actually opened by an
ocular demonstration of some of his lapses quite
unexpected by me. But of them later, as we are proceeding
chronologically.
One thing, however, I must mention now, as it pertains
to the same period. One of the reasons of my differences
with my wife was undoubtedly the company of this friend.
I was both a devoted and a jealous husband, and this
friend fanned the flame of my suspicions about my wife. I
never could doubt his veracity. And I have never forgiven
myself the violence of which I have been guilty in often
having pained my wife by acting on his information.
Perhaps only a Hindu wife would tolerate these hardships,
and that is why I have regarded woman as an incarnation
of tolerance. A servant wrongly suspected may throw up
his job, a son in the same case may leave his father's
roof, and a friend may put an end to the friendship. The
wife, if she suspects her husband, will keep quiet, but
if the husband suspects her, she is ruined. Where is she
to go? A Hindu wife may not seek divorce in a law-court.
Law has no remedy for her. And I can never
forget or forgive myself for a having driven my wife to
that desperation.
The canker of suspicion was rooted out only when I
understood Ahimsa in all its bearings. I saw
then the glory of Brahmacharya and realized that
the wife is not the husband's bondslave, but his
companion and his help-mate, and an equal partner in all
his joy and sorrows - as free as the husband to choose
her own path. Whenever I think of those dark days of
doubts and suspicions. I am filled with loathing of my
folly and my lustful cruelty, and I deplore my blind
devotion to my friend.
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