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Contents ( 50)
  1. contents
  2. introduction
  3. poems
  4. the home
  5. on the seashore
  6. the source
  7. baby’s way
  8. the unheeded pageant
  9. sleep-stealer
  10. the beginning
  11. baby’s world
  12. when and why
  13. defamation
  14. the judge
  15. playthings
  16. the astronomer
  17. clouds and waves
  18. the champa flower
  19. fairyland
  20. the land of the exile
  21. the rainy day
  22. paper boats
  23. the sailor
  24. the further bank
  25. the flower-school
  26. the merchant
  27. sympathy
  28. vocation
  29. superior
  30. the little big man
  31. twelve o’clock
  32. authorship
  33. the wicked postman
  34. the hero
  35. the end
  36. the recall
  37. the first jasmines
  38. the banyan tree
  39. benediction
  40. the gift
  41. my song
  42. the child angel
  43. the last bargain
  44. stories
  45. the kabuliwalla
  46. the kingdom of cards
  47. my lord, the baby
  48. the parrot’s training
  49. the home-coming
  50. master mashai

He said to himself, ‘At the deep of night, when no one is awake to capture me—me, who am the least of all men—I will silently creep to my mother’s arms and fall asleep, and may I never wake again!’

Haralal’s one trouble was lest some police officer should molest him in the presence of his mother, and this kept him back from going home. When it became impossible for him at last to bear the weight of his own body, he hailed a carriage. The driver asked him where he wanted to go. He said: ‘Nowhere, I want to drive across the maidan to get the fresh air.’ The man at first did not believe him and was about to drive on, when Haralal put a rupee into his hand as an advance payment. Thereupon the driver crossed, and then re-crossed, the maidan from one side to the other, traversing the different roads.

Haralal laid his throbbing head on the side of the open window of the carriage and closed his eyes. Slowly all the pain abated. His body became cool. A deep and intense peace filled his heart and a supreme deliverance seemed to embrace him on every side. It was not true—the day’s despair which threatened him with its grip of utter helplessness. It was not true, it was false. He knew now that it was only an empty fear of the mind. Deliverance was in the infinite sky and there was no end to peace. No king or emperor in the world had the power to keep captive this nonentity, this Haralal. In the sky, surrounding his emancipated heart on every side, he felt the presence of his mother, that one poor woman. She seemed to grow and grow till she filled the infinity of darkness. All the roads and buildings and shops of Calcutta gradually became enveloped by her. In her presence vanished all the aching pains and thoughts and consciousness of Haralal. It burst—that bubble filled with the hot vapour of pain. And now there was neither darkness nor light, but only one tense fulness.

The Cathedral clock struck one. The driver called out impatiently: ‘Babu, my horse can’t go on any longer. Where do you want to go?’

There came no answer.

The driver came down and shook Haralal and asked him again where he wanted to go.

There came no answer.

And the answer was never received from Haralal, where he wanted to go.

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Version 1.0

Introduction copyright © Ruskin Bond

Edition copyright © Speaking Tiger 2017