Chapter 44
. Gargi was getting ready to meet her disciples when she was suddenly accosted by one of them. He was breathless.
“There is someone to see you,” he said. But his face seemed to say, “Be careful, I have come to forewarn you of an impending storm.”
Before the young man could leave, Gargi was face to face with Fury incarnate.
“You are Gargi; Gargi Vachaknavi, aren't you?” said the Fury.
“Yes, I am Gargi. Pray, who are you?”
“You will come to know it soon enough. Where is my husband?”
“May I know who you are talking about?
“You know it well!”
Gargi looked at the woman carefully. She was like a specter advancing upon Gargi in a threatening guise. Gargi stepped back a little, instinctively sensing the shape of the things. But the next moment she fortified herself.
“If I am not mistaken, you are Katyayani,” Gargi said in a gentle tone.
“Make no mistake; I am Yajnyawalkya's wife.” Katyayani was shrill with unspent rage as she said that.
“Stay away from Yajnyawalkya's path! Who do you think you are? Moving like a god, trying to undo lives at your will?”
There was a controlled indignation that gave Katyayani composure and an instant mastery over the other woman. Gargi's hand rose to her forehead involuntarily. She stood still, without a shield to protect her.
The two women stood their guard, regarding each other, like mesmerized shadows. Gargi moved forward a little, and then, after a moment's pause, clasped both hands of Katyayani in her own. Surprisingly, Katyayani yielded to the sincerity of that clasp. Unknown to her, she silently reciprocated. Gargi led her in, gently but firmly.
Katyayani looked around to see a sign of Yajnyawalkya's presence. There was no sign of another occupant. The space bespoke of austerity--- a few utensils, earthen vessels to store water, and a few clothes folded away.
91
Katyayani turned to look at her adversary. She was disappointed to see a plain woman, except for those eyes. They were candid as the sky. You could see an undistorted image of yourself in their infinity. Katyayani was overcome by a profound sadness. She was reminded of the forlorn life she and Maitreyi were forced to lead because of this woman. Or was it really because of this woman?
What was the secret of her power over Yajnyawalkya? Gargi could read the question in Katyayani's eyes. Inwardly, she laughed at the futility of it. Tears were welling up in her eyes. She shielded her eyes from Katyayani's gaze and got up to get her a glass of water. But in that brief respite from anger, Gargi did not fail to notice the change that had come over Katyayani. Katyayani's gaze, scalding and seething with its scrutiny, had changed into a quiet solicitude.
“There are tears in your eyes; what for?” Katyayani asked with a slight suggestion of disbelief. Gargi knew that there was no stinging sarcasm in that question, though there was a good likelihood of it, in the given circumstances
Suddenly Gargi's proud self showed itself through her guard, and she was seized by a wicked impulse to hurt.
“Whoever cried for the other's sake? One always cries for one's own self!” Gargi was surprised to find herself reacting so perversely.
Katyayani was stung into retaliation. She was not here to console Yajnyawalkya's concubine. She was going to wrench him away from her if necessary. But strangely, Katyayani felt no anger. She laughed benignly at this vain display of pride.
Yet the tears were there unmistakeably. The sky out there was suddenly overcast by dark clouds. It was pouring down all of a sudden. The two women had no option but to remain huddled inside the cottage in an unwelcome proximity.
Katyayani talked like a torrential river out of bounds. Gargi listened to the story of a householder and his wives, their child and their home, all of which seemed like a myth now to its narrator.
Gargi thought of the man who could not be owned by any of them. Time stood still. A distant drum was beating away rhythmically somewhere.
“Arise Gargi, arise and be ready to go.”
There was nothing she could take from anyone, or give except the knowledge of being alone.
Yajnyawalkya was out of town on that day and was not to return soon.. gargi persuaded Katyayani to stay with her. The two women had come to accept each other by now, not in defeat, but in human bondage.
92
The day wore on and night came silently like footfalls on thegrass. Gargi was overwhelmed by the peace as it came upon Katyayani, while she: Gargi: was left to brood alone.
Suddenly the dark forest in her mind began to echo. A bird's cry pierced across the sky. The night wore and discarded a thousand faces, each face a silent moan---- at last Gargi recognized them all-- her long lost companions of the valley: they were waking. They had found a voice which was the voice of the valley singing to the sky---- a sky that belonged not to the valley butwas of the mountains. Those faces brought along the scent of a forest. It was not a forest, but a womb that received the seed of silence and burst forth into a song. Her primordial aloneness ended and became a mellifluous song. Now she knew, one is never alone in a valley. There are voices, always voices; and the voices have a human face.
. Gargi was getting ready to meet her disciples when she was suddenly accosted by one of them. He was breathless.
“There is someone to see you,” he said. But his face seemed to say, “Be careful, I have come to forewarn you of an impending storm.”
Before the young man could leave, Gargi was face to face with Fury incarnate.
“You are Gargi; Gargi Vachaknavi, aren't you?” said the Fury.
“Yes, I am Gargi. Pray, who are you?”
“You will come to know it soon enough. Where is my husband?”
“May I know who you are talking about?
“You know it well!”
Gargi looked at the woman carefully. She was like a specter advancing upon Gargi in a threatening guise. Gargi stepped back a little, instinctively sensing the shape of the things. But the next moment she fortified herself.
“If I am not mistaken, you are Katyayani,” Gargi said in a gentle tone.
“Make no mistake; I am Yajnyawalkya's wife.” Katyayani was shrill with unspent rage as she said that.
“Stay away from Yajnyawalkya's path! Who do you think you are? Moving like a god, trying to undo lives at your will?”
There was a controlled indignation that gave Katyayani composure and an instant mastery over the other woman. Gargi's hand rose to her forehead involuntarily. She stood still, without a shield to protect her.
The two women stood their guard, regarding each other, like mesmerized shadows. Gargi moved forward a little, and then, after a moment's pause, clasped both hands of Katyayani in her own. Surprisingly, Katyayani yielded to the sincerity of that clasp. Unknown to her, she silently reciprocated. Gargi led her in, gently but firmly.
Katyayani looked around to see a sign of Yajnyawalkya's presence. There was no sign of another occupant. The space bespoke of austerity--- a few utensils, earthen vessels to store water, and a few clothes folded away.
91
Katyayani turned to look at her adversary. She was disappointed to see a plain woman, except for those eyes. They were candid as the sky. You could see an undistorted image of yourself in their infinity. Katyayani was overcome by a profound sadness. She was reminded of the forlorn life she and Maitreyi were forced to lead because of this woman. Or was it really because of this woman?
What was the secret of her power over Yajnyawalkya? Gargi could read the question in Katyayani's eyes. Inwardly, she laughed at the futility of it. Tears were welling up in her eyes. She shielded her eyes from Katyayani's gaze and got up to get her a glass of water. But in that brief respite from anger, Gargi did not fail to notice the change that had come over Katyayani. Katyayani's gaze, scalding and seething with its scrutiny, had changed into a quiet solicitude.
“There are tears in your eyes; what for?” Katyayani asked with a slight suggestion of disbelief. Gargi knew that there was no stinging sarcasm in that question, though there was a good likelihood of it, in the given circumstances
Suddenly Gargi's proud self showed itself through her guard, and she was seized by a wicked impulse to hurt.
“Whoever cried for the other's sake? One always cries for one's own self!” Gargi was surprised to find herself reacting so perversely.
Katyayani was stung into retaliation. She was not here to console Yajnyawalkya's concubine. She was going to wrench him away from her if necessary. But strangely, Katyayani felt no anger. She laughed benignly at this vain display of pride.
Yet the tears were there unmistakeably. The sky out there was suddenly overcast by dark clouds. It was pouring down all of a sudden. The two women had no option but to remain huddled inside the cottage in an unwelcome proximity.
Katyayani talked like a torrential river out of bounds. Gargi listened to the story of a householder and his wives, their child and their home, all of which seemed like a myth now to its narrator.
Gargi thought of the man who could not be owned by any of them. Time stood still. A distant drum was beating away rhythmically somewhere.
“Arise Gargi, arise and be ready to go.”
There was nothing she could take from anyone, or give except the knowledge of being alone.
Yajnyawalkya was out of town on that day and was not to return soon.. gargi persuaded Katyayani to stay with her. The two women had come to accept each other by now, not in defeat, but in human bondage.
92
The day wore on and night came silently like footfalls on thegrass. Gargi was overwhelmed by the peace as it came upon Katyayani, while she: Gargi: was left to brood alone.
Suddenly the dark forest in her mind began to echo. A bird's cry pierced across the sky. The night wore and discarded a thousand faces, each face a silent moan---- at last Gargi recognized them all-- her long lost companions of the valley: they were waking. They had found a voice which was the voice of the valley singing to the sky---- a sky that belonged not to the valley butwas of the mountains. Those faces brought along the scent of a forest. It was not a forest, but a womb that received the seed of silence and burst forth into a song. Her primordial aloneness ended and became a mellifluous song. Now she knew, one is never alone in a valley. There are voices, always voices; and the voices have a human face.
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