Latest / A Passage to India / Ch 30 - A Passage to India

Transcript

Ch 30 - A Passage to India · A Passage to India

• 0:00
  Chapter thirty. Another local consequence of the trial was a Hindu Moslem entmpte.
• 0:10
  Loud protestations of amity were exchanged by prominent citizens, and there went with them
• 0:16
  a genuine desire for a good understanding. Aziz, when he was at the
• 0:22
  hospital one day, received a visitor from a rather sympathetic figure, mister Das.
• 0:30
  The magistrate sought two favors from him, a remedy for shingles and a
• 0:36
  poem for his brother in law's new monthly magazine. He accorded, both,
• 0:43
  My dear Das, why when you tried to send me to prison, should
• 0:49
  I try to send mister Buttacharia a poem? Eh? That is naturally entirely
• 0:55
  a joke. I will write him the best I can. I thought your
• 1:00
  magazine was for Hindus. It is not for Hindus, but Indians generally,
• 1:07
  he said timidly. There is no such person in existence as the general Indian.
• 1:17
  There was not, but there may be. When you have written a
• 1:21
  poem. You are our hero. The whole city is behind you, irrespective
• 1:27
  of creed. I know, but will it last? I fear not,
• 1:34
  said Das, who had much mental clearness, and for that reason if I
• 1:41
  may say so, do not introduce too many Persian expressions into the poem,
• 1:47
  and not too much about the bulbul half a sec said Aziz, biting his
• 1:53
  pencil. He was writing out a prescription. Here you are, is not
• 2:00
  this better than a poem? Happy the man who can compose both? You
• 2:07
  are full of compliments today. I know you bear me a grudge for trying
• 2:12
  that case, said the other, stretching out his hand impulsively. You are
• 2:17
  so kind and friendly, but always I detect irony beneath your manner. No,
• 2:24
  no, what nonsense, protested Aziz. They shook hands in a half
• 2:30
  embrace that typified the entente between people of distant climbs. There is always the
• 2:38
  possibility of romance, but the various branches of Indians know too much about each
• 2:45
  other to surmount the unknowable easily. The approach is prosaic, excellent, said
• 2:53
  Aziz, patting a stout shoulder and thinking, I wish they did not remind
• 2:59
  me of cow dung Das thought some Moslems are very violent. They smiled wistfully,
• 3:08
  each spying the thought in the other's heart, and Das, the more
• 3:14
  articulate, said, excuse my mistakes, realize my limitations. Life is not
• 3:22
  easy as we know it on earth. Oh hell about this poem? How
• 3:28
  did you hear? I? Sometimes scribbled? He asked, much pleased,
• 3:32
  and a good deal moved. For literature had always been a solace to him,
• 3:38
  something that the ugliness of facts could not spoil. Professor Goodwilley often mentioned
• 3:46
  it before his departure for Mao, how did he hear? He too was
• 3:53
  a poet? Do you not divine each other? Flattered by the invitation,
• 3:59
  he got to work that evening. The feel of the pen between his fingers
• 4:03
  generated bulbuls at once. His poem was again about the decay of Islam and
• 4:12
  the brevity of love, as sad and sweet as he could contrive, but
• 4:17
  not nourished by personal experience, and of no interest to these excellent Hindus.
• 4:26
  Feeling dissatisfied, he rushed to the other extreme and wrote a satire which was
• 4:31
  too libelous to print. He could only express pathos or venom, though most
• 4:39
  of his life had no concern with either. He loved poetry. Science was
• 4:45
  merely an acquisition which he laid aside when unobserved. Like his European dress and
• 4:53
  this evening, he longed to compose a new song which should be acclaimed by
• 4:58
  multitudes and and sung in the fields. In What language shall it be written?
• 5:04
  And what shall it announce? He vowed to see more of Indians who
• 5:11
  were not Mohammedans, and never to look backward. It is the only healthy
• 5:16
  course of what help in this latitude and our are the glories of Cordova and
• 5:24
  Samargand they have gone. And while we lament them, the English occupy Delhi
• 5:30
  and exclude us from East Africa. Islam itself, though true, throws cross
• 5:39
  lights over the path to freedom. The song of the future must transcend Creed.
• 5:47
  The poem for mister Bradacharian never got written, but it had an effect.
• 5:54
  It led him towards the vague and bulky figure of a motherland. He
• 6:00
  was without natural affection for the land of his birth, but the Marabar Hills
• 6:05
  drove him to it. Half closing his eyes, he attempted to love India.
• 6:14
  She must imitate Japan. Not until she is a nation will her sons
• 6:19
  be treated with respect. He grew harder and less approachable. The English,
• 6:27
  whom he had laughed at or ignored, persecuted him everywhere. They had even
• 6:31
  thrown nets over his dreams. My great mistake has been taking our rulers as
• 6:39
  a joke, he said to Hamidullah next day, who replied with a sigh.
• 6:45
  It is far the wisest way to take them, but not possible in
• 6:49
  the long run. Sooner or later a disaster such as yours occurs and reveals
• 6:56
  their secret thoughts about our character. If God himself descended from heaven into their
• 7:02
  club and said you were innocent, they would disbelieve him. Now you see
• 7:09
  why Mahmoud Ali and self waste so much time over intrigues and associate with creatures
• 7:16
  like Ramchand. I cannot endure committees. I shall go right away where to
• 7:25
  turtons and burdens all are the same. But not in an Indian state.
• 7:32
  I believe the politicals are obliged to have better manners. It amounts to no
• 7:38
  more. I do want to get away from British India, even to a
• 7:44
  poor job. I think I could write poetry there. I wish I had
• 7:47
  lived in Babur's time and fought and written for him. Gone gone, And
• 7:55
  not even any use to say gone gone, for it weakens while we say
• 8:01
  it. We need a king. Hamidullah it would make our lives easier.
• 8:05
  As it is. We must try to appreciate these quaint Hindus. My notion
• 8:11
  now is to try for some post as doctor in one of their states.
• 8:16
  Oh, that is going much too far. It is not going as far
• 8:22
  as mister Ramchand. But the money, the money. They will never pay
• 8:28
  an adequate salary, those savage Rajas. I shall never be rich anywhere.
• 8:35
  It is outside my character. If you had been sensible and made misquested pay,
• 8:43
  I chose not to. Discussion of the past is useless, he said,
• 8:48
  with sudden sharpness of tone. I have allowed her to keep her fortune
• 8:54
  and by herself a husband in England, for which it will be very necessary.
• 9:00
  Don't mention the matter again. Very well, but your life must continue
• 9:05
  a poor man's. No holidays in cashmir for you. Yet you must stick
• 9:11
  to your profession and rise to a highly paid post, not retire to a
• 9:18
  jungle state and write poems. Educate your children, read the latest scientific periodicals,
• 9:26
  compel European doctors to respect you. Accept the consequences of your own actions
• 9:33
  like a man. Aziz winked at him slowly and said, we are not
• 9:39
  in the law courts. There are many ways of being a man. Mine
• 9:43
  is to express what is deepest in my heart. To such a remark,
• 9:50
  there is certainly no reply, said Hamidullah. Moved, recovering himself and smiling,
• 9:56
  he said, have you heard this naughty rumor that Mohammed Latif has got
• 10:03
  hold of? Which, when miss quested, stopped in the college fielding used
• 10:09
  to visit her rather too late in the evening. The servants say, a
• 10:16
  pleasant change for her if he did, said Aziz, making a curious face.
• 10:24
  But you understand my meaning. The young man winked again and said,
• 10:30
  just still, your meaning doesn't help me out of my difficulties. I am
• 10:35
  determined to leave Chandrapur. The problem is for where I am determined to write
• 10:43
  poetry. The problem is about what you give me. No assistance. Then,
• 10:50
  surprising both Hamidullah and himself, he had an explosion of nerves. But
• 10:56
  who does give me assistance? No one is my friend, all our traitors,
• 11:03
  even my own children. I have had enough of friends. I was
• 11:09
  going to suggest we go behind the porda, but your three treacherous children are
• 11:16
  there, so you will not want to. I'm sorry. It is ever
• 11:22
  since I was in prison my temper is strange. Take me forgive me.
• 11:28
  Noureddine's mother is visiting my wife. Now that is all right. I think
• 11:33
  they come before me separately, but not so far together. You had better
• 11:39
  prepare them for the united shock of my face. No let us surprise them
• 11:46
  without warning. Far too much nonsense still goes on among our ladies. They
• 11:52
  pretended at the time of your trial they would give up poorda. Indeed,
• 11:58
  those of them who who can write composed a document to that effect, and
• 12:03
  now it ends in humbug. You know how deeply they all respect Fielding,
• 12:09
  but not one of them has seen him. My wife says she will,
• 12:15
  but always when he calls there is some excuse. She is not feeling well,
• 12:20
  She is ashamed of the room. She has no nice sweets to offer
• 12:26
  him, only elephants ears. And if I say elephants ears are mister Fielding's
• 12:31
  favorite sweet, she replies that he will know how badly hers are made,
• 12:37
  so she cannot see him on their account. For fifteen years, My dear
• 12:43
  boy, have I argued with my Beggham for fifteen years and never gained a
• 12:48
  point. Yet the missionaries inform us our women are downtrodden. If you want
• 12:56
  a subject for a poem, take this The Indian Lady as she is,
• 13:01
  and not as she is supposed to be. End of Chapter thirty