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Chitra, a Play in One Act, a play by Rabindranath Tagore

Scene I

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_ SCENE I


Chitra
ART thou the god with the five darts, the Lord of Love?


Madana
I am he who was the first born in the heart of the Creator. I
bind in bonds of pain and bliss the lives of men and women!


Chitra
I know, I know what that pain is and those bonds.--And who art
thou, my lord?


Vasanta
I am his friend--Vasanta--the King of the Seasons. Death and
decrepitude would wear the world to the bone but that I follow
them and constantly attack them. I am Eternal Youth.


Chitra
I bow to thee, Lord Vasanta.


Madana
But what stern vow is thine, fair stranger? Why dost thou wither
thy fresh youth with penance and mortification? Such a sacrifice
is not fit for the worship of love. Who art thou and what is thy
prayer?


Chitra
I am Chitra, the daughter of the kingly house of Manipur. With
godlike grace Lord Shiva promised to my royal grandsire an
unbroken line of male descent. Nevertheless, the divine word
proved powerless to change the spark of life in my mother's womb
--so invincible was my nature, woman though I be.


Madana
I know, that is why thy father brings thee up as his son. He has
taught thee the use of the bow and all the duties of a king.


Chitra
Yes, that is why I am dressed in man's attire and have left the
seclusion of a woman's chamber. I know no feminine wiles for
winning hearts. My hands are strong to bend the bow, but I have
never learnt Cupid's archery, the play of eyes.


Madana
That requires no schooling, fair one. The eye does its work
untaught, and he knows how well, who is struck in the heart.


Chitra
One day in search of game I roved alone to the forest on the bank
of the Purna river. Tying my horse to a tree trunk I entered a
dense thicket on the track of a deer. I found a narrow sinuous
path meandering through the dusk of the entangled boughs, the
foliage vibrated with the chirping of crickets, when of a sudden
I came upon a man lying on a bed of dried leaves, across my path.
I asked him haughtily to move aside, but he heeded not. Then
with the sharp end of my bow I pricked him in contempt.
Instantly he leapt up with straight, tall limbs, like a sudden
tongue of fire from a heap of ashes. An amused smile flickered
round the corners of his mouth, perhaps at the sight of my boyish
countenance. Then for the first time in my life I felt myself a
woman, and knew that a man was before me.


Madana
At the auspicious hour I teach the man and the woman this supreme
lesson to know themselves. What happened after that?


Chitra
With fear and wonder I asked him "Who are you?" "I am Arjuna," he
said, "of the great Kuru clan." I stood petrified like a statue,
and forgot to do him obeisance. Was this indeed Arjuna, the one
great idol of my dreams! Yes, I had long ago heard how he had
vowed a twelve-years' celibacy. Many a day my young ambition had
spurred me on to break my lance with him, to challenge him in
disguise to single combat, and prove my skill in arms against
him. Ah, foolish heart, whither fled thy presumption? Could I
but exchange my youth with all its aspirations for the clod of
earth under his feet, I should deem it a most precious grace. I
know not in what whirlpool of thought I was lost, when suddenly I
saw him vanish through the trees. O foolish woman, neither didst
thou greet him, nor speak a word, nor beg forgiveness, but
stoodest like a barbarian boor while he contemptuously walked
away! . . . Next morning I laid aside my man's clothing. I
donned bracelets, anklets, waist-chain, and a gown of purple red
silk. The unaccustomed dress clung about my shrinking shame; but
I hastened on my quest, and found Arjuna in the forest temple of
Shiva.


Madana
Tell me the story to the end. I am the heart-born god, and I
understand the mystery of these impulses.


Chitra
Only vaguely can I remember what things I said, and what answer I
got. Do not ask me to tell you all. Shame fell on me like a
thunderbolt, yet could not break me to pieces, so utterly hard,
so like a man am I. His last words as I walked home pricked my
ears like red hot needles. "I have taken the vow of celibacy. I
am not fit to be thy husband!" Oh, the vow of a man! Surely
thou knowest, thou god of love, that unnumbered saints and sages
have surrendered the merits of their life-long penance at the
feet of a woman. I broke my bow in two and burnt my arrows in
the fire. I hated my strong, lithe arm, scored by drawing the
bowstring. O Love, god Love, thou hast laid low in the dust the
vain pride of my manlike strength; and all my man's training lies
crushed under thy feet. Now teach me thy lessons; give me the
power of the weak and the weapon of the unarmed hand.


Madana
I will be thy friend. I will bring the world-conquering Arjuna a
captive before thee, to accept his rebellion's sentence at thy
hand.


Chitra
Had I but the time needed, I could win his heart by slow degrees,
and ask no help of the gods. I would stand by his side as a
comrade, drive the fierce horses of his war-chariot, attend him
in the pleasures of the chase, keep guard at night at the
entrance of his tent, and help him in all the great duties of a
Kshatriya, rescuing the weak, and meting out justice where it is
due. Surely at last the day would have come for him to look at
me and wonder, "What boy is this? Has one of my slaves in a
former life followed me like my good deeds into this?" I am not
the woman who nourishes her despair in lonely silence, feeding it
with nightly tears and covering it with the daily patient smile,
a widow from her birth. The flower of my desire shall never drop
into the dust before it has ripened to fruit. But it is the
labour of a life time to make one's true self known and honoured.
Therefore I have come to thy door, thou world-vanquishing Love,
and thou, Vasanta, youthful Lord of the Seasons, take from
my young body this primal injustice, an unattractive plainness.
For a single day make me superbly beautiful, even as beautiful as
was the sudden blooming of love in my heart. Give me but one
brief day of perfect beauty, and I will answer for the days that
follow.


Madana
Lady, I grant thy prayer.


Vasanta
Not for the short span of a day, but for one whole year the charm
of spring blossoms shall nestle round thy limbs.

 

___
End of Scene I [Rabindranath Tagore's play/drama: Chitra] _

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