Sujata

SUJATA
(Short story)

JAYASHANKAR PRASAD
(Translated from Hindi by Dr. Ravi S. Varma)

Two or three lines on the forehead, a circle of thick black eyelashes near the pupils, close-knit eyebrows touching each other, and a faint greenish shade under the well-shaped nose symbolised on the face of that fair nun the inspiration for a powerful expression.

Cowls fail to contain the youth. Disgusted with the world full of misery and sorrow, she sought shelter under the shadow of the Sangha. Her noble and aspiring heart received many shocks, but the youth refused to part company with her. She failed to get any peace although she had donned herself in the yellow and today she was violently agitated.

It was the Amavasya morning of Chaitra. The clay white stem and branches of the peepul tree were bedecked with tender copper-red shoots and leaves and the morning rays were gently playing on them. Perhaps they had never before had such a spongy and supple bed to roll on.

“It isAmavasya today, and since morning my heart has been brimming over with palpable darkness. The light of the day has no meaning for me,” Sujata thought. “I am breaking under inconsistent and incoherent ideas and do not know how I should unburden myself ... a lonesome strayed deer surrounded by a host of hunters.” She dosed her eyes.

Aryamitra stood there in front of her, knowing full well that Sujata would not rise from her meditation soon. A smile lit his face. The prescribed code of conduct chained him and the rules of the Sangha bashed his heart, yet he stood there.

Fired of grappling with internal darkness, Sujata opened her eyes to imbibe some light and saw Aryamitra standing before her. A glare of light seemed to dazzle her eyes, but she composed herself and bowed to him.

Aryamitra was a man and a monk and the rules of the Sangha prescribed that a nun should bow to a monk. He responded to the greetings with a smile and asked, “Are you well today, Sujata?”

Sujata opened her lips to reply, but her heart got stuck in the bright colour of his new robes. She wished Aryamitra should go away and leave her free to brood over her feelings. She had been ailing for sometime past and Aryamitra had given her medical treatment as he was the physician of the Sangha. She was convalescing and did no longer need Aryamitra’s careful attention. But she needed someone to cure and relieve her heart. Then again Aryamitra! She was helpless. She replied, “I am well now.”

“Take only light food for a few days more.”
“Well.”
“I have to ask you one thing more.”
“What? No. Please excuse me.”
“When did you enter the Sangha?”
“What will you do listening to all this? The world is full of misery and sorrow.”
“All right. Well. I take leave of you.”

Aryamitra went away but his departure made Sujata sway with commotion and heave in a flood of light. She failed to notice how long the Chief Monk had been watching her standing beside her.

Nothing could be heard in the din and noise of the stormy whirl of the angry sea waves. Evening was descending slowly on the vast expanse of dark blue water. Wave after wave was break­ing against the shore. Sitting on a cool altar of sand, Sujata watched the transient dance of the elements with her eyes wide open. The vastness of the dark blue sea pointed towards some reality. The wholeness of the existence was dawning upon her in that dark and dusky evening.

“Life is real; experience is real; in the light of the soul, darkness is nought,” mumbled Sujata.
“What are you saying, Sujata?” asked Aryamitra from behind her.
“Who, Aryamitra! Will you tell me why I put the cowls on, Aryamitra?”

“Out of foolishness, Sujata! I have decided to sin against the Sangha on this dark night of Amavasya. These false rules of conduct fail to provide me any solace or peace of mind. I have plainly told the Chief Monk that Aryamitra, son of Sangha­mitra, can no longer discount and disdain the pleasures of the world. Great and potent medicines pass from generation to generation ... to renounce the honour of being the Royal Physician of Kalinga is not an easy thing. I entered the monastery only for the sake of Sujata. Searching after her, I came to this Neel Vihar. She is my betrothed wife who has forsaken me.”

“But, you have delayed, Aryamitra. I am not worthy of the high honour you wish to give me.” Sujata intercepted him.

“But why, Sujata? Are your cowls a barrier? Fling them away. You must drape in gold-spangled saris from Varanasi, they are the only fitting apparels for you. Diamond necklaces, ruby wristlets and gold bangles are meant to adorn your lotus­-like comely and graceful body. You are the queen of my heart.”

“But.....”

“But what, Sujata? Your hesitancy breaks my heart. Please speak out; I have snapped all bonds of the Sangha and freed myself ... I believe your faith in the transitoriness of life and soul has also shaken.”

“But Aryamitra, from where shall I bring that priceless gift of chastity which the women, the noble brides offer at the feet of their lords? Where shall I get the untouched and unsullied garland of virginity fragrant with the honey-like sweetness of my heart, to honour you”?

“Why Sujata, what forbids that?” asked Aryamitra panting with growing impatience. He began to draw figures on the sand with his toe.

“It’s no use, my Lord! confiding all that to you. Please go and enjoy the royal comforts. Don’t shatter your happy future for an accursed wench like me. Aryamitra, you have loosened the bonds imposed by the Sangha. Will you not, for my sake, rupture this bond of love for a fallen woman?” Sujata released a long pent up sigh.

In the dusky evening on that lonely sea beach, Aryamitra held Sujata by the hands and asked impetuously, “Sujata, tell me frankly, don’t you love me?”
“I do, Aryamitra ; and I am sad for it. Tell me, is there any pleasure that the ‘Bhairavi’ can’t enjoy?”

Aryamitra startled and sprang to hear it. He dropped her hands and cried, “What do you say? You, a Bhairavi!”

“Yes, Aryamitra. I am a Bhairavi; my...” Her voice choked. Tears streamed from her eyes, a sea of anguish was heaving within her breast.

Tormented with her predicament, Aryamitra was boiling with indignation. Is this the cherished goal of the religion towards which the people are running tempestuously in the hope of finding a way to salvation – the Nirvan – breaking all the age-old and sacred bonds of home and hearth? How long can the society endure this injustice ... this cruel and merciless victimisation by those who are burning with implacable jealousy towards the happiness of the householders?

Restraining and composing himself a little, he said, “Sujata, my bead is reeling like a wheel of the Lord’s chariot, but I am still willing to take you as my wife. Come on, Sujata.”

“But I am in trepidation and cannot persuade myself to take you as my husband. It will be the height of flippancy to make you partake of all my blame. Please forgive me, Aryamitra. My agony is darker than the black night and my sorrow, deeper than the sea. Do you remember we inscribed our names together on the sand on this sea beach? The clamorous and cruel sea has swept them away with its fingers of waves. Let the name of love, in the same way, be washed away from the tablet of your heart. Let it dissolve and vanish away in the darkness of this night, Aryamitra.”

“Sujata!” Abruptly a harsh and hoarse voice rang through the darkness.

Seized by surprise they both turned and saw the formidable figure of the Chief Monk.   
Her life was frayed into shreds. In the darkness of the night, with her head bent, Sujata watched the procession of the Lord’s statue being carried in a chariot, but she could not make anything out of that fast-disappearing pantomime. The Chief Monk appeared before her. “Have you repented and done penance Sujata?” asked he.

“Repentance and penance for whose guilt, Sir? Yours or mine?” retorted Sujata bitterly.

“Yours and Aryamitra’s, Sujata! You have revolted against the canons of our religion with a faithless heart.”

“Revolted against the canons of the religion! Strange!”

“You were offered to the Sangha and your body was laid at the feet of the Lord, Sujata! You....”

“Silent, you lier!” snapped Sujata. “You follower of Vajrayana! You devil...”

The formidable man trembled with rage and lost his feigned composure; he grinned his teeth, “You shall die, Sujata!”

Sujata raised her eyes and said with calm resignation, “The cruelest death is a tender solace to me. What joy have you left for me on this lovely earth? Chief Monk, you have raised monasteries on the ruin and debris of homes; you wellow in the mire of sin and evil; you flout the pious bonds of a householder’s life and to gratify your gross and carnal passions raise another structure under a different name. Your desire and appetite are keener than those of the innocuous householders; you transcend all limits of vulgarity and incontinence.”

“But you shall die, Sujata!”

“I shall die, Chief Monk; but remember your false and filthy religion will not live long. Your profligate and profane religiocity is a sacrilege against the humanity and will soon be annihilated.”

“You die tomorrow.”

“Very well! Tomorrow morning you will see how Sujata dies!”

Leaning against the massive temple pillar, Sujata watched the nightlong ceremony with a fixed eye. Once she asked silently, “Lord, why this ceremony? Need we gather materials for your worship by torturing living beings?”

The statue did not reply.

The morning rays smiled on the temple spires and bathed it in golden hues. The statue of the Lord was taken on to the chariot for the procession. The devout worshippers shouted in an ecstasy of delight and rent the sky.

Sujata saw Aryamitra, clad in silk, walking piously with a group of priests. She wished to call to him and confess her willingness to join him.

With all her might she shouted, “Aryamitra!”

But who would hear her voice in the tumultuous noise of that boisterous crowd? The Lord’s chariot entered the main road. Its formidable wheels were digging into the earth and making deep furrows. Sujata violently jumped into that sea of humanity and the next moment her body was crushed under the wheels.

The chariot came to a stop and the Chief Monk gazed at her beautiful body now mangled and trampled. “Sujata!” spluttered from his mouth and a tear stole from his eyes.