Contd.:
He held her apart to look into her eyes. She returned his gaze with unfenced love.
A tremor ran through his body. He averted his face and said pensively, "Maitreyi, clear this fog of attachment from your eyes. I care about you. That is why I don't want you to create a cause for anguish. All this craving, this desire for love, is nothing but a fog. There are moments of desolation when we turn outside to seek sustenance; husband seeks it in wife, wife in husband; they both seek it in their progeny. Some seek it in anything that they can call god,. They think it is love, religion, devotion, surrender, sacrifice. They hide in the fog. "
Maitreyi stopped him abruptly and said, "If you are there to hold me, I don't care to find out what lies beyond the fog."
Yajnyawalkya said, "Maitreyi, do not trap me in language. See, there is light breaking on the horizon. What does it tell you?"
Maitreyi smiled and said, "It says, the fog will melt; there will be light soon. Wait awhile!."
Yajnyawalkya did not know if it was the child in her or an oracle that was speaking.
He watched the play of emotions on her face, showing pure transparent colors of serene joy, and wondered if she was the same woman who had held to him tremulously a while ago, hiding herself on his bosom from the monster called time. In her little world of the hermitage she had winged the sky with her inborn instinct for flight. He had circumambulated the whole world of academies of philosophies and come back to her world, fatigued and disenchanted, disinclined to hold dialogue with anyone except his own self.
In the chaotic vastness of Brahma, she found her own universe of beauty and serenity. Where would her world stand in the unseen order of Brahma? Her little world truly belonged to her and she had allowed herself to be claimed by it. Who was Yajnyawalkya, and by what right could he come and claim that world? And still, he knew well that she had been waiting hopelessly to receive and enshrine him there. She had her roots in the soil, and though rooted, she was trying to feel the sky. She was both ethereal and earthly.
He had a sudden impulse feel her. He caressed her gently and felt her respond. She clasped his hands and said, "I want you to speak about Gargi."
Yajnyawalkya froze. He unclasped her grip over his hands. She said, "I don't envy her anymore. But I feel you belong to her at some deep level."
She was speaking in absolutely flat tones. He wondered whether it was her way of disguising the real emotion. A wave of revulsion swept across him. In the self-same moment Maitreyi claimed him and disowned him.
He retreated behind a wall of silence. There was a deep shadow over his eyes. He turned to her and looked steadily in her eyes. His silence was drawing her out. It asked her, "Why? Why at this moment?"
She in turn, said in silence, "Yes, this is the moment I have to delve deep into your knowledge of yourself. If I let it pass, I'll never understand you."
Her eyes were like a still lake and the storms in his mind alighted there, without causing a ripple. She held the reflection to herself uncritically.
To be contd.
He held her apart to look into her eyes. She returned his gaze with unfenced love.
A tremor ran through his body. He averted his face and said pensively, "Maitreyi, clear this fog of attachment from your eyes. I care about you. That is why I don't want you to create a cause for anguish. All this craving, this desire for love, is nothing but a fog. There are moments of desolation when we turn outside to seek sustenance; husband seeks it in wife, wife in husband; they both seek it in their progeny. Some seek it in anything that they can call god,. They think it is love, religion, devotion, surrender, sacrifice. They hide in the fog. "
Maitreyi stopped him abruptly and said, "If you are there to hold me, I don't care to find out what lies beyond the fog."
Yajnyawalkya said, "Maitreyi, do not trap me in language. See, there is light breaking on the horizon. What does it tell you?"
Maitreyi smiled and said, "It says, the fog will melt; there will be light soon. Wait awhile!."
Yajnyawalkya did not know if it was the child in her or an oracle that was speaking.
He watched the play of emotions on her face, showing pure transparent colors of serene joy, and wondered if she was the same woman who had held to him tremulously a while ago, hiding herself on his bosom from the monster called time. In her little world of the hermitage she had winged the sky with her inborn instinct for flight. He had circumambulated the whole world of academies of philosophies and come back to her world, fatigued and disenchanted, disinclined to hold dialogue with anyone except his own self.
In the chaotic vastness of Brahma, she found her own universe of beauty and serenity. Where would her world stand in the unseen order of Brahma? Her little world truly belonged to her and she had allowed herself to be claimed by it. Who was Yajnyawalkya, and by what right could he come and claim that world? And still, he knew well that she had been waiting hopelessly to receive and enshrine him there. She had her roots in the soil, and though rooted, she was trying to feel the sky. She was both ethereal and earthly.
He had a sudden impulse feel her. He caressed her gently and felt her respond. She clasped his hands and said, "I want you to speak about Gargi."
Yajnyawalkya froze. He unclasped her grip over his hands. She said, "I don't envy her anymore. But I feel you belong to her at some deep level."
She was speaking in absolutely flat tones. He wondered whether it was her way of disguising the real emotion. A wave of revulsion swept across him. In the self-same moment Maitreyi claimed him and disowned him.
He retreated behind a wall of silence. There was a deep shadow over his eyes. He turned to her and looked steadily in her eyes. His silence was drawing her out. It asked her, "Why? Why at this moment?"
She in turn, said in silence, "Yes, this is the moment I have to delve deep into your knowledge of yourself. If I let it pass, I'll never understand you."
Her eyes were like a still lake and the storms in his mind alighted there, without causing a ripple. She held the reflection to herself uncritically.
To be contd.
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