ARCHITECT OF HIS FATE
IN Colombo, in the suburb of Kolupitiya, there lived a man named Nanda, who had neither parents nor brothers nor sisters, but who possessed something better than these, namely, the gracious memory of their love and of their virtues. Besides these, however, he had a friend and a sweetheart. His friend's name was Kosiya and his sweetheart's, Punna. The latter was observing a year of mourning for the death of her father, so that they had still some ten months to wait for their wedding.
One day, Nanda went alone to take a walk in the wood of coco-palms that lay along the shore. Cool and strong blew the ocean wind ; low bowed the tops of the palm trees ; in thunder broke the white- rimmed sea.
Our Nanda was in an extremely happy frame of mind. As he walked quietly along he thought within himself, "Am not I the luckiest man in the world ? Who else has such a friend, such a bride to be, so beautiful, so sensible, so pious, and both of them so true?"
Meanwhile he came to a clearing through which the wind blew gustily. And since here, almost the whole year round, the wind blew from the sea, the vegetation had assumed an extraordinary shape. It had only grown upon the side turned away from the wind.
Now our Nanda was in that state of inward equipoise, in which the merest trifle produces a profound effect upon us ; he was in that condition in which a dog, sleeping in the sun, or a pair of kittens at play, may become objects of the greatest interest, and give rise to the deepest reflections, and so he came to a halt, pondering, before these strange-looking bushes.
"How truly great is the might of perseverance!" he thought. "Real strength lies in persistent endurance. Will my Kosiya in friendship and my Punna in love thus persistently endure ? "
All at once it seemed to him that he as good as knew nothing if he did not know this. In that moment he fell into man's great vice — the vice of sacrificing the flowing cup of the present and the treasure- house of the past, in order to filch a tiny crumb from the future ; no, not to filch any such crumb, for the future will elude no man and no man will elude the future. Yet, just to get this tiny crumb a little bit earlier, they give up their all. The whole of philosophy, which teaches man to stand still under the hammer of necessity, they surrender for the petty arts of the soothsayer and the fortune-teller.
He began to brood. " Certainly ," ran his thought, "my good fortune is great, but it would be still greater good fortune if only I knew that it was going to last. I must devise some test for this."
So he thought and thought, until the setting sun warned him that it was time to turn homewards.
The whole night through he was kept from sleeping by this one thought. At long last, with the morning light his plan took shape. At one stroke he would put to the test the faithfulness both of betrothed and of friend. He would go a long journey as if upon urgent business, and during his absence would entrust his bride to the care of his friend. Neither of them as yet had seen the other, for his friend led a life of solitude. More and more absorbed did he become in his plan. It was now no longer a question of, Would lie or not ? it was only a question of How ? A voice within him spoke in warning, "Why stake all your happiness upon a single card ? " But already the madness was too strong upon him.
Even the prospect of a lengthy separation from his beloved no longer had power to dismay him.
When he thought his plan sufficiently worked out in all its details, he betook himself to his friend Kosiya at Bambalupitiya.
The latter lived in a little house flanked by a couple of banana trees, and led up to by two wooden steps. Kosiya fared rather scantily. In the morning he ate a cake of rice which he bought at the bakers for a halfpenny. At noon he ate a dish of rice and a little vegetable curry, and in the evening, he took what was left over, along with a couple of bananas. At all meals his only drink was pure spring water.
Thus he lived, a diligent reader of the Suttas,* and fully occupied with the work of reflecting upon himself. For he had seen and understood that all good here below is comprehended in the avoiding of evil, and that evil is only overthrown by reflection, is consumed in it as camphor in fire, naught remaining, not even ashes.
" My work," he would say, " does not lie in doing, but in refraining from doing. ,, One day Nanda said to him, "You live like a monk. Why do you not enter the Order of the Exalted One ? You would live more comfortably."
With a smile, Kosiya replied : " Because I am a glutton ; that is why I do not enter the Order of the Exalted One. My stomach demands an evening meal."
* The Discourses of the Buddh
The brothers of the Order of the Buddha may not partake of food after noon.
" Moreover," Kosiya continued, " I am vain. I could not endure to go about with shaven head." And, indeed, he had a head of hair so full and long, and withal so fine and glossy, as was possessed by scarcely another in Colombo, and he wore it after the old fashion, coiled up high, with a comb of tortoise-shell stuck in it. " For," he would say, "that was the way of our fathers, and ought not to be laid aside except under necessity." For the rest, he was strong and tall of stature, with serious, regular features, and at this time might have been somewhere about the beginning of the thirtie in age.
Moreover, he had not always lived as a recluse, but
had passed his earlier years like other young fellows, and had been
through more than a few love adventures. All at once, after a certain
night of revelling, he had become this present Kosiya Nanda once was
sitting in the shade, reading an English book.
" What sort of book is that you are
reading ? " Kosiya asked.
"What sort of book should it
be?" answered Nanda. " Love ! love ! As always, nothing but
love! Just as you came, they were kissing and fondling one another
and enjoying the keenest delight; but I'll wager you, on the very
next page they will both be lamenting in the deepest despair. What a
madness is this, which impels us again and again to inflame our fancy with
these imaginings ! It sometimes seems to me as if we played with
these love-images over and over again, only in order that we may not
perceive the reality — I mean, death.
For, confess it yourself, what hinders
us from clear thinking more than love ? "
" Nanda," said the other,
" what a way to talk ! I see you, I hear your voice, and yet it
is as if it were some one else speaking ! Truly it is a frenzy, an
intoxication that has taken possession of us all. Is not intoxication?
Is not one kind of intoxication equally as disgraceful as any other? We
deride and despise a person who has become a child through the
inebriation that comes of indulgence in wine, but we ourselves every
day become childish again through the inebriation of love ! Nanda, ought
we not to try to become sober ? Ought not the pleasures of sobriety
to have as great charms for us as the pleasures of drunkenness ? And
can I not better enjoy every pleasure when my understanding is clear
and my brain vigilant ? Simply out of desire for increased enjoyment,
ought we not to become sober and shun drunkenness ? Ought we not to
train ourselves in sober thinking, as the athlete trains the muscles
of his arms and legs ?
Nay, ought we not to be much more
ardent than he, since our goal is so much the more important ? Nanda,
your words have brought light to me ! This very day I make a
beginning ! "
" Dear Kosiya," began Nanda,
" for me, I much fear me, it is all too late to begin the career
of an athlete in sobriety. You must know, my friend, since yesterday
I have fallen in love past all redemption. From that circumstance
alone springs my present disgust at this love story. I cannot see her
again until to-morrow. How shall I pass the time till then? I would almost have
despaired, and actually thought of death. Finally, in my distress I seized
this book, and then you came. Forgive me that I have unintentionally
lured you along a false track."
" You call that a false track ! Do
you really think that, as a drunken man, you are capable of distinguishing
what is true from what is false ? "
" Oh, if you knew Punna ! There is
none like her in all the world. Follow my example, Kosiya
!"
" What's the use of the whole world,
of me included, falling in love, when you have already appropriated
the best beforehand ? "
" Don't mock ! Follow my
example, Kosiya ! There is only one real happiness in the world. If
only you knew what true love is ! Ah, if I could only remain for ever
in this delightful drunkenness !
" Nanda, I now see with my own
eyes how great is the danger. Hitherto I have known it only by
hearsay. It is to me as if something were emitted from you like
the breath from a drunken man. Since I am not yet inebriated like
you, I will try first the worth of soberness, for I think it
is easier to turn one's self from being a sober man to being a
drunkard, than to turn from being a drunkard to being a sober man.
Hence, if I don't find sobriety to my
taste, drunkenness is still left to me ! "
" But, dear Kosiya, can a sober man
and a drunkard remain friends ?
Our friendship, my Nanda, will
become stronger than ever. For, the man who has become sober is more
capable of true friendship than he was before, and the drunkard stands
more than ever in need of him."
Thus did the two friends shake
hands upon a bond of friendship for life, and thus from this hour
onwards did Kosiya begin his life of sobriety. He had now lived
it for more than three years, and when Nanda would jestingly ask him
—
" Now, friend, is not sobriety a
rather tasteless dish ? " he would answer thoughtfully—
" It tastes pure. It is the only dish
that tastes pure."
Nanda, on the other hand, in the
winning of his Punna, had come through a year of torment and agitation,
until finally a few months ago he had succeeded in securing her
promise to be his bride. The death of her father postponed the date of
their marriage, and Nanda was left with sufficient leisure in which
to revel in dreams of future bliss. We have seen how he was minded to
employ this leisure.
Entering Kosiya's house, he found
him seated cross-legged on the floor of the back veranda, attired in
an immaculate white jacket and loin-cloth. He was busily engaged studying
a palm-leaf manuscript.
After
due greetings, Nanda began — "Would it not be better, friend, if
you again began to mix a little among men ? "
In some surprise Kosiya looked at
him. Nanda went on —
" You will end by completely dying
out in yourself." But then, "Oh dear ! " he
cried, "there, I've gone and put my foot in it! Your precise aim
is to die out ! "
" It is not dying out that is our
goal," answered Kosiya, "but a life free from desire and
craving. Cessation follows of itself, as darkness follows when the
light burns itself out."
" Kosiya, I am not a clever talker.
If I were to go on talking with a hidden object in view, I would be
sure to make a bundle of it. So I will just say to you straight out
; you must do me a favour."
" Most willingly, friend, if it is
in my power."
" Oh, you won't be asked to give
me money or put in a word for me anywhere. This is quite within your
power and is quite simple. The thing is this. When I was walking
yesterday on the shore and came to the clearing where the wind-twisted
shrubbery grows, the thought came to me that real strength lies in
constancy. Hence the strength of love also must rest in constancy.
Hence, also, the greatest love must be
that which is the most constant. I thought further, * How can I make
sure whether my Punna's love will prove constant or not ? ' And all
at once it seemed to me that all the world was worth nothing to me if I
could not discover this. So I resolved to put her to the test, and have
pondered over it the whole night through, and finally came to
the conclusion that this can only come about through you. For you are
true, and will never do anything unworthy of our friendship. To be brief,
I will go upon a lengthy journey, and in the mean time you shall
pay court to her, and do everything seemly that a man may do to make
a woman fall in love with him. If she stands this test, I will
be completely satisfied, and henceforth believe that I enjoy the
greatest happiness possible upon earth."
Kosiya was silent for a space ; then
he began —
" Friend Nanda, I am only some
two years older than you. I am not sure if it is exactly my place to
tender you advice ; all the same, I think you had better abandon your
scheme."
" But why ? " cried Nanda,
warmly.
" Because it is not the straight
way.
Whoso puts crooked questions to Fate
ought not to be surprised if he receives crooked answers."
" What do you mean by your crooked
and straight ? What else do I want to do, but assure myself of the
faithfulness of my betrothed ? This is the straight road to that
end."
"All right! Let it be that it is
the straight road, the question remains, 'Is it necessary that you
should go this straight road?' It is not necessary that a road should
be followed simply because it is a straight one."
" Kosiya, believe me, if ever I am
to enjoy peace of mind in this life, I must make this test. Is it not
a friend's duty to give peace of mind to his friend ? "
" There we come to the other side of
t he business. You say it is quite simple and is quite within my
power. To be sure, you require from me neither money nor recommendations,
but you ask for my own /. I am to give up my own peace, the care of
my own /, in order to bring about your peace."
" Can you not sacrifice your peace
for a paltry couple of weeks out of love for your friend ?
"
" Do you not know that the Exalted
One teaches —
*
Turn not aside from thine own goal For others, be they ne'er so great ! '
" Your speech is not particularly
like a friend's. But do you seriously think that it will endanger
your wellbeing, if you make believe to pay court to a woman for a
few weeks ? "
Thus he went on pleading and
urging, with all the more vehemence the more the other
resisted.
Then an idea occurred to Kosiya.
He thought, " How can my friend's love be perfect, if even now
he raises doubts as to the faithfulness of his betrothed ? Will
he ever be certain? Will he not continually torture himself? For
there are some men to whom all those good things bring only torment,
which to others are a source of joy. Would it not be right that I
should make the attempt to bring him also that secure peace of mind,
free from desiring, which I have myself enjoyed these last few years
? "
In this guise did vanity insinuate
itself into Kosiya's heart ; thus did he forget his own weal that he
might take upon himself the burden of his friend's wellbeing.
He began. " If you really insist
upon it I will do as you wish. Only you must promise me that you will
stay away for at least three months, and also, in case the results of
the test do not correspond with your expectations, that you will try to
keep calm and lend your ear to exhortation."
Filled with pleasure, Nanda fell on
his neck.
I
promise everything. Only, during the three months that I am away, you
must write to me often."
"Once a month is enough, my
friend. You will hear from Punna much oftener than that."
"Good, good! My best of friends!
This very day I will take you to her, and to- morrow I start off. It
will be best that you come with me now/'
Thus toils the fool at the overthrowing
of his fortune, even more zealously than he had laboured at its
up-building.
On their way to Punna Kosiya
began again —
" I see three possibilities, Nanda.
I might see four of them, if at the same time you would like to put
your friend also to the test."
Nanda coloured up on the instant ;
but Kosiya did not notice, for he was looking straight ahead of
him.
"
Which three possibilities do you mean ? "
"
The first is, that her love remains true to you. In that case, all is
well, at least for you. The second is, that she does not remain true.
In this case all may be made well. The third is, that we may fall
mutually in love with one another."
Our Nanda began to feel
uncomfortable. " How you talk ! M he said, " I feel
quite sure of you."
" No man is sure but he who
shuns temptation. What is to be done in the last eventuality ? In
that case she will belong to you by right, and to me by
nature."
" Punna belongs to me, and to no
one else."
Kosiya threw a side glance at him.
They were now in front of the house.
"
Nanda, friend," he again began, " would you not rather leave
this business alone?
Time will teach you more surely than
any test, whether or no your dear one is true to you.
" Oho ! Do you think I am afraid you
will cut me out ? " he laughed, at the same time knocking rather
loudly at the door.
The Tamil servant opened it.
They entered the reception room where they found present both mother
and daughter.
The mother, a venerable-looking
matron, was a cripple, and remained seated in a big Indian
basket-work chair.
Somewhat hurriedly, Nanda informed
his betrothed that he must start next morning upon a long journey.
Kosiya's presence seemed to be grateful to him, since it saved him
from the first outbreak of surprise on his sweetheart's part. In
accordance with the demands of etiquette, Punna listened in silence.
Only a light u Oh i " came from her lips.
After a brief interval, Kosiya took
his departure, so as not to intrude upon the scene of parting. But
before he went, Nanda, with a certain impressiveness, made him pledge
himself to visit Punna at quite frequent intervals. In parting,
Nanda shook his hand with such force that it hurt.
I will not paint the parting scene
between Nanda and Punna ; so many writers, skilled in the picturing
of emotions, have described the most touching farewell scenes, that
the reader may just pick out himself what he thinks is the best of
them, and insert it at this part of my narrative. For, if manners in
the East and in the West differ somewhat from one another, yet lovers are
alike all the world over.
So, next morning early, Nanda set off
to
I would have it understood, that the
only letters which will be exhibited in full are those from Kosiya to
Nanda ; that those from Punna to Nanda will be given only in part,
and those from Nanda to Punna not at all. For what publisher could
undertake to publish all the scribblings of lovers ?
Already,
on the seventh of September, Kosiya received the following note :
"
"
Dear Kosiya, —
"
I am eagerly awaiting a letter from you. What do you think of Punna
?
"Thy
Nanda."
To
this Kosiya replied as follows :
"
"
Dear Nanda,
"
Please bear in mind that it is part of our agreement that I am to write to
you only once a month. So, have patience !
Besides,
what can I write to you so soon already ? I as yet know no more than
my eyes, and the eyes of everybody else for that matter, must tell
them, that your betrothed is perfectly beautiful — so perfectly
beautiful that one can say nothing- further than just, ' She is
perfectly beautiful/ She possesses that peculiar type of beauty which is
more frequently found amongst the Hindus than among the Sinhalese.
However, you are perhaps still in a position to be able to call to
mind from former times, that beauty is a property which your intended
possesses in common with many another woman. Beauty alone, especially
such perfect beauty, is, for a man of understanding and experience,
no ground whatever for falling hopelessly in love. So I suppose that
your adored one possesses certain specific excellences which for you
make her unique, but which I in this short space of time have so far
been unable to discover. So you must have patience until the end of
the month, when my first letter is rightly due. This present epistle
I shall be gracious enough not to include in the reckoning, since it really
contains nothing that has to do with our agreement.
" So farewell ! and bear in mind
the promises you made me.
"Thy
Kosiya."
Punna
to Nanda.
"
My best beloved Nanda,
"
I am still as if stupefied. When I awoke this morning early, my pain
was greatest. I woke up with a sorrowful sensation in my heart, but
knew nothing of yesterday. Then, like a flash of lightning, memory
returned, and I felt so lonely in my heart, so sick to death. I cannot
describe it to you. It seemed to me as if everything in me was all
burnt up and could never, never grow again. ' How shall I live through
this day ? ' was my thought. But it now seems to me, that the best
way to teach any one to endure is to lay upon them a still heavier burden.
For, when evening came, and the time returned in which you have
always been with me, then I wished that the morning were back again,
which at least had the day behind it.
"It
is now time to go to sleep, but I cannot. My relief must be this
letter.
Beloved,
I cannot write any more. I have sat up long into the night. I feel as
if all my senses were frozen. Nanda, I think that if you loved me as
I love you, there would not be any business in the world of sufficient
importance to tear you away from me for three months.
"
Dearest, in spirit I now say good-night to thee. I feel thy hand on mine.
How gently you stroke it ! Ah, how painful happiness can be !
"Thy
Punna."
"
"
My only beloved Nanda,
"
I have read both letters with the sweetest emotions. I carry them about
with me and keep on reading them and reading them, although I knew
them both by heart long ago. Beloved, how comes it that my greatest
comfort is to know that you also suffer ? What a peculiar thing is
the torment of love !
"You
ask me if I have wept. Alas, Beloved ! I am such a foolish girl. I
know well that weeping is useless. Our religion teaches it so often.
But the comforts of religion at present appear to me so unsatisfying, so
useless, as if not meant for us at all. You must not think, however, that
I go about all the day with streaming eyes. I must let you know
frankly that tears came to my eyes just twice, but then I thought of the
promise that I gave you, and I crushed them down again.
"You
ask if your friend has visited me often. He was here the day after
your departure, before I had written the first letter. I quite forgot
to tell you. Yesterday he was here again. Every time that my sorrow allows
me the opportunity, I have wondered why you wish him to call so often.
I have just a little suspicion that in him you have placed a spy upon me,
but do not think, beloved, that I say that in earnest.
"
I will privately confide to you that I hope for a letter from you
to-morrow again.
I
cannot think of it without my heart leaping.
"Thy
foolish Punna."
*
11
My only Dearest,
"
You complain that, since your departure, I have only written four
letters to you, and that I do not tell everything I do and suffer
through the day with sufficient detail. Believe me, dearest, the whole
day is spent in telling you what I do and suffer.
I
speak only to thee. To others I speak only as a puppet to puppets. But it
is so difficult to write down what one feels. It is so cold looking,
so lifeless. I am afraid my letters give you a very poor idea of my love
for you.
"
For your friend, who at first was an object of indifference to me, and
then — forgive me — somewhat tiresome, I am beginning to feel thankful to you.
He has been here several times ; his latest visit was last night. We
spoke continually of you. Last night we happened by chance to speak of
the views of philosophers concerning love. He is going to tell me
something about it out of a book next time he comes. He maintains that
it is not good for people to continue in grief and sadness. He holds that
it is not distraction but thinking about pain that is the best cure
for pain. What an extraordinary idea ! Altogether, he holds very peculiar
views, but many a time I half think that he is right. For, when I am almost
sick with longing, and I think strongly of the object of my longing —
guess who that is — it seems to me as if I found relief. But I
frankly believe that he meant it quite another way.
"
Ah, my beloved, how I long for thee !
"Thy
Punna."
Kosiya
to Nanda.
"
"My
dear Nanda,
"
I imagine that you have been expecting a letter from me these last
few days. But I will not tease you, I know that you have been
counting the days.
"
When I think that one-third of the testing time has passed, I must
frankly admit that so far I have not done very much ; indeed, up till
now I have been unable to arrange any test. During the first few
days, your intended was insensible in her grief to all external
influences. At the very outset I had to find some means of calling
her attention to my existence.
This
I succeeded in doing by speaking continually about you. In this way
she grew accustomed to me, but it was a long time before the waves of
the pain of parting had subsided. Only lately did I succeed in making
a little progress, by passing from love as it reigned between a certain
Nanda and a certain Punna, to love in general. From this position I
think I shall be able to make a safe advance. I shall pose as a despiser
of love and of its joys, and in this
I
shall be all the more successful, seeing that, as you know, I shall here
be saying what I really feel. For my part, I frankly feel that, in
this domain, it is out of place to amuse one's self and practise
deception, and I also know that later on I shall receive my
punishment for it, but I comfort myself with the thought that I am doing
it all in the service of friendship.
"
My plan is this. This contempt for love must call forth from her a
rebuttal. She will begin to fight against me. But that is a sort of
lover's sport. For, love also is nothing else but a fight, which is
to be distinguished from other fighting only in this, that the
pleasure derived from it is found, not so much in victory, as in the
fight itself and in submission. Victory and defeat here signify much
about the same thing and are both equally sweet. Hence, where two fight
with one another, even to the point of mutual hatred, they only, as it
were, prepare the soil of love. Indifference only is the death of
love.
"
I now expect, however, unless she is quite different from all other
feminine creatures, that she will »try to convert me, not only by words
but also by deeds ; in a word, my hope is, that in order to convince me of
the falsity of my ideas, she will attempt to make me fall in love
with her myself. Every girl, every woman thinks that she can venture
on this in perfect safety, because she knows herself to be only
jesting. But in love, jest only too often passes unnoticed into earnest
; the deceiver becomes a deceived deceiver, and cannot find his way
back again. I know that the truth of this law may be demonstrated,
not only in women, but also in men ; and amongst these latter in a
certain one called Kosiya. But my safety lies precisely in this, that
I know that this is the case.
"You
see, my good Nanda, that I am zealous about the work. Perhaps you
are wondering at my zeal. To-day I only want to let you know that I shall
carry out my plan. Oh, I hope that everything will turn out all right
for you, for me, and perhaps also for her. At all events, so much in
her is steadfast, that this is the only art and fashion from which I
promise myself any result. In case, however, you think that a test of
this kind is against our agreement, just let me know, and we will give up
the whole affair. For I can inform you that nothing is to be done
with your betrothed by the usual methods, by flattery and lover-like languishing.
She would only laugh at such things, for she is sensible to a high
degree and has a rare turn for logical thought. In one word, she is
sound through and through and inaccessible to any sickly sentiment.
The only point where she is vulnerable is, as said, in that love of
battle which every healthy person possesses, so long as he has not
had it dried up within him through reflection.
"In
order to complete the picture of your beloved, I must add that she is
discreet, and does not appear to be conscious either of her beauty or
of her rare virtues. The crown of all, however, I consider to be her
good-natured inoffensiveness, which is always inclined to see and to think
the best of everybody — a quality exceptionally rare among clever
women, the which, however, I feel disposed to prize more highly than
all other excellences taken together.
"
So much for one day.
"
Best wishes and greetings,
"From
Thy Kosiya."
"
Punna to Nanda.
*
"
My beloved Nanda,
"
I really do not know how to write letters properly, but I know very
well how to read them — that is, your letters ; of others I know
nothing. What was troubling your mind when you wrote your last letter
? Have you met with some annoyances in the affairs that have called
you away to
Only
come soon, come soon ! Oh, I can still remember a whole host of such
glances, and I would not exchange one of them for a kingdom ! I am
looking for you every day, every day.
"Alas,
beloved! What a terrible thing is parting to lovers ! But ought we then
to misunderstand one another ? Wert thou here, one glance would make
everything right.
You
reproach me that at the beginning of my letter I say — ' I speak only like
a puppet to puppets,' and then at the end — * I had an animated
conversation with your friend Kosiya/ Dearest Nanda, we have always spoken
of nothing but of thee. He told me so many beautiful things about you. I
was so grateful and loved you so much. Only once did we wander from
you, to speak of the views of the philosophers about love.
It
came in quite appropriately. Indeed, I think it was myself that turned the
conversation in that direction, and your friend then began to unfold his
own views on the subject. Only think, dearest ! He holds love in
contempt. He seeks some standpoint superior to love. I only laughed.
As
if there were any standpoint higher than love ! What do you think, Nanda ?
Is not that the highest standpoint which yields the highest happiness
? And is not love the highest happiness ? Would it not be a triumph
for our love to lead this unbeliever back to love ? For, I refuse to
believe that any one can be by nature a foe to love. Certainly he
also formerly thought other- wise. But, dearest, if you think that I should
not engage any more in such conversations, just write to me so at once. I will
stop it at once and tell him — ' Nanda does not like it.'
"
With longing I await a letter from thee.
"
Thine ever faithful Punna."
"
Dearest, how long you have kept me waiting
and then what a cruel letter ! Ah, have pity ! You say that the
disquietude which I feel is not the result of your letter, for your
letter was written with feelings entirely unchanged. How cold ! But
the disquietude lay in myself. Ah, perhaps you are quite right, my
Nanda. Truly I am tormented with disquietude day and night by reason
of your absence. It seems to me as if I have been more quiet before than
I am now. I am so sad and miserable all the day. Yesterday evening
your friend was here. He comes mostly in the evenings.
He
has such a peculiar way of rousing me and provoking me to contradict him.
He speaks of love, hope and happiness as coldly as if he were
teaching mathematics. He is a remarkable man. I believe I have
already convinced him on several points, but I am not yet quite sure.
This I think I ought to tell you. At first, however, I did not want to,
but because you want to hear everything I tell it also to you. Your friend
has just read me bits out of the Suttas * about love.
He
clearly proved to me that, wherever life is recognised to be suffering,
love is the worst of all things, since it fetters us for ever to life
and at the same time to suffering.
At
first I shrank a little. But then I thought, and told him, J That all life
is suffering I know quite well, just because all life is transitory.
But that love is the best thing in the world — this I know just as
surely.
And
the Exalted One himself cannot abate my belief/ Then he laughed, and said
that I reasoned just the way all women reason.
But
what harm is there in that ? My pride it is just that I am a woman. But
then he began to paint the greatness of solitude and of the recluse.
He called him the only freeman : all others were the slaves of love.
He
compared him with the sun, and made use of such words and images, that I
could do nothing but sit and listen to him in admiration. But do not
imagine that I allowed him to see anything of it. After all they are
only ideals that he sets forth — ideals which neither your friend nor any
one else in the world can ever realise. My
*
Portions of the Pali Buddhist Scriptures.
Nanda,
have you ever reflected upon love from this point of view ? But what a
silly question to ask !
"
How splendid is this night, so dark and so luminous ! I am in such a mood
of fore- boding, like one who looks upon something vast ! And is not
this splendor something vast ! Ah, if only you were sitting beside me
! But I feel quite serene and happy, exactly as if you really were sitting
beside me. It seems as if the night-wind gave me tidings of thee.
Only come back soon, my Nanda, and stroke my hand again as you used
to do.
"Thy
faithful Punna."
Kosiya
to Nanda.
"
"
Dearest Friend,
"
Everything has gone exactly as I had anticipated. She has taken up
the challenge. She is trying to convert me. I would scarcely have
known that she was a woman if this womanly trait had not at last come
to light. How moving she is ! Her coquetry is even more natural than the naturalness
of coquettes. Nanda, if I carry this test through to a finish and in the
process do not myself fall in love, I am a rascal.
What
torments me always is the doubt if I am doing right, but I will tell you
later, dearest friend, what in reality drives me on.
Oh,
how splendidly everything may turn out.
"
I have just been reading out to her some passages from the Suttas about
love. I invited her to make the deductions that follow upon the law, 'All
life is suffering,' as it affects love. I am aware that I was merciless,
and showed no sympathy with her anguished fluttering. When she no
longer knew what to do to save herself, she took a defiant leap over
the boundaries of logic, away into that domain in which no rules any longer
hold good. But when I then began to speak of the greatness of solitude, I
saw clearly by her shining eyes how she felt and understood along
with me. How I envy thee such a noble heart! Marriage is not for her.
She is quite capable of comprehending the highest in the teaching of the Blessed
One. When I promised you to put her to the test, I did so because I did
not know her. Now I continue just because I do know her! Perhaps a
double benefit will flow from my action. I speak in riddles ; but
only have patience, my best of friends !
"
You naturally will know if there is actually anything happening. What
shall I say ? I only have certain impressions.
The
only thing that does not seem to be quite right is this — that she has
denied herself to me for the last two or three days.
The
servant said that she was ill, that she was in bed. But I heard in the
next room the rustling of her robe. I cannot have been
mistaken.
"
That is about all that I have to tell you to-day. I have forgotten
something. Her coquetry does not run in the direction of changes in
her dress, flowers, perfumes, etc., as you may perhaps imagine. Oh no
!
Punna
is far above such devices. It was only a coquetry of thought, a sort of
dwelling upon points where one had expected more rapid progress.
Somewhat as if a musician should coquet with his theme, and by some fresh
transposition bring it once more in a fresh form to the astonished
ear.
"
But enough ! If I go on chattering like this, you will have good right to
say that I am already in love, and that thus the fourth of my
possibilities has come to pass. But I place reliance in the fact that I
see each step I take.
"
Farewell, my only friend."
Punna
to Nanda.
"
My
good Nanda,
"
You keep impressing on me again and again that I am to let you know
every little thing that occurs every individual day.
I
am doing so faithfully. I cannot do more than I am already doing. You
distress me with your insistence. If you only knew how scattered are
my thoughts ! How can I seize all of them ? I am restless as I have never
been before in all my life. You ask if, perhaps, my intercourse with your
friend has not something to do with it. That means : You think it
might perhaps be as well if I dismissed him. But why, my Nanda ? I
really do not know why. Let him keep on coming ; it does not trouble
me.
I
mean — do not take me up wrongly — he speaks of high things which must
trouble every thinking being. I am really telling you everything.
Last night I was not able to see him because I was ill ; that is to
say, not so ill that I had to lie down — you need not be anxious
about me — but I only had an indisposition which will soon pass
away.
On
the whole, if you should think anything — but what am I saying ? My Nanda,
and jealous ? Dearest, I have trust only in thee.
It
seems to me as if I hated this Kosiya. I hate this cold calculator, this so
— I do not know what to say, but you know him better than I do. But I
speak so, just in case this may have something to do with my unrest.
But
really, what silly stuff I am writing !
"
My Nanda, think, think always of me, as I shall make it my principal
occupation to think of thee.
"
Thy faithful Punna."
"
?
Dear heaven, Nanda, how shall I write to you if you take up my words that
way ?
What
is this that you have made out of my harmless expression, that thinking of
thee is my principal occupation ? For the expression is really harmless.
Alas ! Alas ! and yet — O miserable me ! But you dare not make out of
it what you have made out of it. How can you know that it is now a toilsome
occupation for me to think of you ?
But
perhaps there was something in my letter that you have misread. It
was written so badly. Alas, I really do not know ! But surely, Nanda,
that is not just.
No
! And I think that justice is the first thing I must require from my
future husband.
I
do not think that I could love any one who is not just. Oh, what a mad
woman I am ! Forgive me, forgive me ! I cannot write another word. As
soon as I can I will write more. I think I must write you something.
I
must indeed.
"
Thy unhappy Punna."
11
"Alas,
Nanda, your words are sharper than daggers in my heart. I convert anyone
to the happiness of love ? Unfortunate that I am ! Who was it that taught
me that love was the greatest happiness ? It is the greatest torture
! O Nanda, you know all.
But
if you only knew how I suffer; how every night I sob and cry ! Oh, I ought
to have told you long ago. But what ? What ?
Oh
what is going to happen ? Where shall I find comfort ? In religion ? How
shall I look in religion for something which I can only find in
myself? But if I had had religion in me I should never have come to this,
for the Exalted One has shown us clearly what is to be avoided. I cry
for comfort and find none. O Nanda, my dear beloved, my delight, my
only happiness, where art thou ? Only stay ! Oh, I stretch out my
arms to you. Come, I will fly to thy breast. Woe is me, I am raving ! Oh
how I hate dissimulation ! More than poison, more than death ! I
might be at peace if only I knew that I was now at least speaking without
dissimulation. Oh if only you had never gone away ! Is that true ?
Oh, my brain is turned. I know nothing, only that I am the most
unfortunate of women."
Kosiya
to Nanda.
"
"My
Nanda,
"
Friend I may not any longer call you — my fate has overtaken me. I
write this because my members do their service out of old use and
habit, but inwardly I am as one mangled, crushed flat beneath the iron
wheels of Fate. My foolishness and my presumption are to blame for
everything.
"The
third month is not yet completed but the game is over. It all happened
this way. When day after day I could not get to see her, I became
impatient. My fancy began to work. I thought that she withdrew herself
from me because love was beginning to work. Presumptuous that I was !
At last I began to watch the house.
One
day when I saw the servant go off to the bazaar I knocked at the door.
She opened it herself. I knew well that she must open it herself. In
that moment, as her glance met mine, I felt that my fate was sealed
for ever. A peculiar gleam was in her eye, such as I had never seen
there before. She seemed to me to be a little thinner. She must have
suffered. I felt how my heart clave to her and I stood there like a
culprit. Never in all my life have I felt at once so happy and so
miserable. I talked a few stupid commonplaces for which I could have
kicked myself. Certainly the loss of inward assurance is, for the man,
a much more serious loss than for the woman, because, with the
latter, helplessness may only give her a fresh charm ; the man,
however, it only makes laughable or contemptible.
11
1 begged her to let me call again. She agreed with perfect simplicity. So
I saw her again, saw her more often than ever.
She
remained perfectly calm and dignified. I, on the contrary, behaved like a
boy, like a fool. I spoke at the wrong time, and was silent at the
wrong time, and my speech, like my silence, said only one thing : * I love
thee ! '
Oh
how ashamed I was of this shameless openness ! But, what was worse, my
former impudent assurance of her love for me, in the face of her
present behaviour, became ever more and more turned into doubt. All
my self-confidence was gone. Day after day I was mercilessly tossed
hither and thither. I groaned at the caprices of women. To-day I know
that it was not their caprices that tortured me but my own foolishness. I
in fact saw everything only through the frenzy of my love.
"
At last, yesterday, I could bear it no longer. So, in a sort of despair, I
made my venture. I knew I was betraying my friend, ruining my own
future in this and in the next life, and insulting perhaps the
noblest woman that lives. But nothing mattered.
That
is precisely the madness of love. What I said or did I do not know, for I
was out of my senses. But, Nanda, you ought to have seen the dignity
and kindness with which she refused me. O Exalted One, what cloistered
quiet is deep enough ever to lead me to forget that scene ? She was as
a goddess to me.
"
The betrayed betrayer am I, Nanda. I am he who, from the safe shore of
reflectiveness, ventured out upon the high seas of love, and there, seized
by a whirlwind, was no longer able to make his way back again.
Believe
me, she herself did nothing but fight out the honourable contest into
which she was lured by my cunning. On me lies all the blame.
"
Nanda, I will confess everything to you. When you came into the quiet of
my hut and pressed me to play a part towards your intended, it was my
duty, the duty of the reflective man, to convince you by reasoning of the
foolishness of your plan. But I allowed myself to be led away by presumption.
I thought, * If I cause the betrothed of this my only friend to be unfaithful
to him, I shall be able to lead him also into this serene peace which I myself now
so fully enjoy.' Fool that I was ! I had nothing but a look, ever the
same, in the mirror of my pride. It was thus that I departed from
that first rule of prudence in all virtue — to shun temptation. Thus did
I fling heedlessly away my own spiritual good, in order — perhaps! —
to save thine. Once more, Fool that I was! How did I know what your
good was, whether, indeed, it might not lie precisely in love ? For, as
through a gateway, through love also may well lie the road to
Nibbana. What, however, was my own ill — that I knew, and yet I went
that road.
"
That is one thing. The other is this. I was not straightforward with you
when you were quite straightforward with me and trusted everything to
our friendship. I ought to have informed you of this concealed idea
of mine. And so it is I that am to blame for everything, and on me appropriately
the punishment falls. Gladly, too, will I take it all upon me, if I could
only know that no disturbance in your relationship has taken place through
my rascally cunning. If anything of that kind should occur, Nanda, I
do not know how I could bear it. If I have ever been anything to you,
believe me this once when I say, ' She is the noblest, most intelligent,
gentlest and faithfullest of all women.' That shall be the last cry
that shall go forth from me into the world. My heart shall henceforth
bleed behind the walls of the cloister ; that shall be my punishment.
You shall see me no more, save in the yellow robe and with shaven
head. Cursed be vanity !
"
You will say, ' What sort of punishment is that ? For long already you
have been living the life of a monk/ This is the punishment, Nanda ;
that I shall take with me, into the quiet of the cloister, a worldly heart,
and that I shall take up the struggle against sensuality without any hope.
And yet, in spite of all, something lives in me which calls me to
further effort. I still retain an appreciation of the inestimable value
of man's life. Wholly unhappy he only is, who has lost all faith in
himself. This, indeed, is our blessedness, that, not only the evil,
but also the smallest good bears its due fruit. The earnest may well
again upraise a ladder of cobwebs out of the depths of their misery.
To struggle here is to be victorious.
"
But enough ! I scent pride. Faults are to be quelled as long as they are
at their beginnings.
"
I have nothing more to say. I wish thee a true farewell, thou good, thou
faithful one ! O Nanda, forgive me ! "
Punna
to Nanda.
"
"A
madwoman has been writing to you. To-day, one who has awaked from
madness to reason writes to you.
"Nanda,
I will tell you all, as frankly as I would tell it to myself. First of
all, then, you must understand that I am to blame for everything. My
pride, my foolishness have brought me to this pass, and plunged all three
of us into misery.
When
I saw what a contemned of love this Kosiya was, I thought I would
convert him and teach him the might of love.
Wretch
that I was ! So I began a wicked piece of sport with him who first came
under my roof as your friend. The more I saw how cold he was, the
warmer did I become. You must understand, my — Forgive me !
I
cannot any longer so address you ! You must understand that very soon I no
longer sought to convince him through reasoning, but only through
myself, just as if that were my highest duty, when, in fact, there was
no higher duty for me, but to be devoted wholly to thee in love and
esteem. The position of a betrothed is with us what the marriage state
is among others. But I thought, ' Oh, it is only a piece of sport, which
it lies in my power to give up at any time I choose.
Besides,
what harm can come of it to me ? What to him? What to thee?' So our foolishness
thinks.
"
When I saw that I was not making any headway, I had recourse to cunning.
I feigned illness and denied myself to him. I do not know how I fell
into this — I who have always been a friend of straightforward- ness.
But surely it must have been my fate, else would the consequences not have
been so terrible. I swear to you, however, that up till then I had
never been anything but the actress.
"
One day there was a knock at the door at an unusual hour. The servant was
not at home. I opened the door myself. How I started to find Kosiya
himself before mc !
I
think I grew pale a little with surprise. As I looked at him, I noticed
something peculiar in his glance, a sort of glow such as up till then
I had never before seen in him. Suddenly I knew that he loved me,
and with that the torture in my heart began.
For
no one can be quite insensible in face of the love of another. Also, I
felt the weight of my guilt, and to-day it is inconceivable to me, why I
did not make clear to myself beforehand all the consequences of my
possible victory. There now began in me such a confusion of my feelings as
I have never experienced at any other time in my life. Everything in
me became vague and doubtful. My feelings towards him were different
from those towards other men, but I could not tell whether I loved him,
or whether I only thought myself pledged to him on account of my
guilt. Heavens, how I speak ! Thou wast indeed still present, but in
so monstrous a fashion that I no longer knew even if I loved thee. Thus
terribly was I punished for my wicked trifling.
"So
I lived in a state of twilight gloom.
O
Nanda, what torture ! This struggle for clearness ! And those nights !
When I look back now on those days, I know that I have fully atoned,
and if I find any com- fort at this present moment, it is in the thought,
* I have atoned/ For, how can one who has done evil find any peace except
in expiation !
"
I felt that I could now no longer perjure myself. It would have been
useless, and would only have made both of us still more distracted.
We were now together oftener than ever. I sat there like one
justified, and spoke like a fool. He could not help noticing it and
taking confusion for love.
My
inward struggles, on the other hand, only increased my confusion, and
hence the possibility of illusion on his part. It seemed to me almost
unthinkable, that there should have been a time when I was master,
and could decide whether all these perplexities should or should not
arise. Oh, if only we paid more heed to the beginnings of things, how
powerful, how happy, how peaceful we all might be !
"
So I carried on my jest with him, at first designedly, and latterly
without design. I say, * jest/ Oh, if it had only been clear to myself at least whether it was
jest or earnest !
As
surely as I hope one day to be a better woman than I now am, I tested
myself until I was utterly exhausted, tested myself with the utmost
strictness, but I never attained to clearness in my mind. Nay, it
seemed to me as if the more I examined myself, the more confused did
everything become.
"
I saw how he was suffering. I admired him that, in spite of all, he
preserved his dignity and good manners, his sense of duty and his
love to you. Then, the evening before yesterday, it all broke loose. I
tell you this because I know that he himself will tell you. I felt
that it must come. We would both have been overcome in the oppressive
atmosphere. But when it came, it appeared to me to be so uncalled for,
so outrageous, so like a hurricane. I have never in all my life seen
a man in such a state of suppressed passion. I shrank ; I was really
frightened. Like a rude creature I only screamed out to him, ' Never
! Never ! ' and fled into the house to my mother.
4
'Of the night that followed I cannot write you anything. I can only say
that I finally came to a crowning height of pain where I felt, * This
is the summit. There is nothing beyond.' I was on the verge of madness.
It was like a miracle. Suddenly I felt an irresistible craving for
reflection, and at the same moment also I felt in myself the ability
to reflect. And so I began to reflect, and, the more I reflected, the
more peaceful I became. And, the more peaceful I became, all the more
clearly I beofan to understand. I understood the origin of the
relations between Kosiya and myself to lie in my foolishness and heedlessness.
I understood that I did not love him, but only the high thoughts that had a dwelling-place in
him.
"
When I was quite clear about this, I began to reflect, * What, then, is
the origin of my love for Nanda?' It is noteworthy that the moment I
put this question to myself, I was perfectly clear as to what its consequences
would be. I saw in visible form the worm that gnawed at the root of our
love. But I remained quite calm. It was a delight to me to go on further,
step by step. It was a delight to me to bring clearly before my own
eyes the uncertainty, the frailty, the misery of love. It seemed to
me as if all at once I enjoyed the fruit of Kosiya's teaching. I was so
full of peace that even the thought, ' I am the hateful instrument by
which he himself may come at the fruit of the teaching ' had no power
to disturb my serenity.
"
One thing I now know for a surety.
No
happiness in this world, not even the highest, can outweigh the torments
which I have come through during these last few weeks. It is clear to
me now that, so long as I love, I am exposed to the possibility of
these torments. This bare possibility frightens me. I ask myself, ' How
shall I find shelter from this possibility ? ' Judge yourself. Is
there any other way but this — wholly and completely to give up love ?
Ah, my good friend, I am so sad when I think upon you, but it is to
me as if I had thought all love away, as the fire burns away the hedge.
More clearly than I ever knew anything before in my life, I now know
this.
I
cannot belong to you any more than to any one else. 1 am resolved to
follow the straight road of peace and safety. Before you come back
from
But
why give chance more food to feed on than is necessary, in order to toy with our frailty ?
My mind is firmly made up, and so farewell ! Ah, thou, my beloved,
what suffering I have brought thee ! How evilly have I repaid thy
trust, thy faithfulness, unworthy that I am ! If only you saw the tears
that now roll down my cheeks, surely you would feel, not anger, but
compassion ! But do not think that anything whatever can make me
weaken in my resolve. I go, not out of despair, but only because I
have perceived something better than love, a happiness higher far
!
"
And so farewell !
"
Punna."
Nanda
received these two letters at the same time, and read them in the above
order, because he considered that Kosiyas would be the more important
and Punnas the pleasanter. When he had finished Punnas letter, he sat
for a while as if stupefied, staring straight before him ; then he
laughed aloud as people laugh when they are mad, and then with closed
fists began to belabour himself with all his strength on breast, face and
head. At the same time he shrieked out wildly. " How spendidly you
have carried it all out, O Kosiya ! The bride lost ! The friend lost
! And the test of their faithfulness ? How is it with that ? Are they,
then, true now ? " He shrieked louder and louder, all the while
beating himself more furiously with his fists. He would perhaps have
killed himself if he had not fallen down fainting with exhaustion.
When
he came to himself again, he dragged himself like a sick dog to the
place where both the letters lay. Again he began to read them, but at
first, like a drunken man, without apprehending their meaning. Then, little
by little, things grew clearer to him.
Here
and there as he perused them, he nodded thoughtfully. When he had
read through everything for the third time, he said quietly, "
It seems to me that, when
man
puts questions to Fate, he not only frames the question but also the
answer. I put a question to Fate out of pure wantonness, out of bravado.
Is it not a trick worthy of admiration that, simultaneously with the
beginning of the answer, there is present also the necessity of the answer
? And the further the answer proceeds, all the more apparent becomes
this necessity.
And
now this solution ! So does Nature answer. She answers questions by
the dissolution of what is questioned, perhaps also by the
dissolution of the questioner."
Again
he began to read. Suddenly he started. "How was that, then ?
" He took up the
other
letter and read. Again he nodded thoughtfully. "Something peculiar in
his glance; a peculiar gleam was in her eye," he murmured.
" So a sudden flaring up has decided the fate of my love, that is,
has decided my fate. But if each had only seen in the eye of the
other nothing more than a mere reflection, and had taken that for
something belonging to the other ? Perhaps, if just at the moment of
the opening of the door, a shadow had passed over Punna's or Kosiya's face, or a grain of dust had
flown into the eye of one of them, or perhaps if the sun had been in another
position — who knows ? Can Punna be right about the frailty and the misery
of love ? I will think about it."
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