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Chitra, a Play in One Act

Chapter 13: SCENE IX
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About This Book

A royal daughter raised as a warrior meets a revered ascetic-hero and falls deeply in love, yet doubts that her masculine bearing can win his affection. Seeking help, she asks the gods of love and spring to grant her a temporary year of perfect feminine beauty, and when transformed she attracts him and they unite. Tormented by fear that his devotion is tied only to outward charm, she confronts the tension between appearance and inner self. The story unfolds through her trials and revelations, ultimately affirming that true regard depends on the soul beneath costume and ornament.

                               Arjuna

     Have you in this kingdom no warden?
                             Villagers

     Princess Chitra was the terror of all evil doers.  While she was
     in this happy land we feared natural deaths, but had no other
     fears.  Now she has gone on a pilgrimage, and none knows where to
     find her.
                               Arjuna

     Is the warden of this country a woman?
                             Villagers
     Yes, she is our father and mother in one.
                                                       [Exeunt.
                           Enter CHITRA.

                               Chitra

     Why are you sitting all alone?
                               Arjuna

     I am trying to imagine what kind of woman Princess Chitra may be.
     I hear so many stories of her from all sorts of men.
                               Chitra

     Ah, but she is not beautiful.  She has no such lovely eyes as
     mine, dark as death.  She can pierce any target she will, but not
     our hero's heart.
                               Arjuna

     They say that in valour she is a man, and a woman in tenderness.
                               Chitra

     That, indeed, is her greatest misfortune.  When a woman is merely
     a woman; when she winds herself round and round men's hearts with
     her smiles and sobs and services and caressing endearments; then
     she is happy.  Of what use to her are learning and great
     achievements?  Could you have seen her only yesterday in the
     court of the Lord Shiva's temple by the forest path, you would
     have passed by without deigning to look at her.  But have you
     grown so weary of woman's beauty that you seek in her for a man's
     strength?

     With green leaves wet from the spray of the foaming waterfall, I
     have made our noonday bed in a cavern dark as night.  There the
     cool of the soft green mosses thick on the black and dripping
     stone, kisses your eyes to sleep.  Let me guide you thither.
                               Arjuna

     Not today, beloved.
                               Chitra

     Why not today?
                               Arjuna

     I have heard that a horde of robbers has neared the plains.
     Needs must I go and prepare my weapons to protect the frightened
     villagers.
                               Chitra

     You need have no fear for them.  Before she started on her
     pilgrimage, Princess Chitra had set strong guards at all the
     frontier passes.
                               Arjuna

     Yet permit me for a short while to set about a Kshatriya's work.
     With new glory will I ennoble this idle arm, and make of it a
     pillow more worthy of your head.
                               Chitra

     What if I refuse to let you go, if I keep you entwined in my
     arms?  Would you rudely snatch yourself free and leave me?  Go
     then!  But you must know that the liana, once broken in two,
     never joins again.  Go, if your thirst is quenched.  But, if not,
     then remember that the goddess of pleasure is fickle, and waits
     for no man.  Sit for a while, my lord!  Tell me what uneasy
     thoughts tease you.  Who occupied your mind today?  Is it Chitra?
                               Arjuna

     Yes, it is Chitra.  I wonder in fulfilment of what vow she has
     gone on her pilgrimage.  Of what could she stand in need?
                               Chitra

     Her needs?  Why, what has she ever had, the unfortunate creature?
     Her very qualities are as prison walls, shutting her woman's
     heart in a bare cell.  She is obscured, she is unfulfilled.  Her
     womanly love must content itself dressed in rags; beauty is
     denied  her.   She  is like the spirit of  a  cheerless  morning,
     sitting upon the stony mountain peak, all her light blotted out
     by dark clouds.  Do not ask me of her life.  It will never sound
     sweet to man's ear.
                               Arjuna

     I am eager to learn all about her.  I am like a traveller come to
     a strange city at midnight.  Domes and towers and garden-trees
     look vague and shadowy, and the dull moan of the sea comes
     fitfully through the silence of sleep.  Wistfully he waits for
     the morning to reveal to him all the strange wonders.  Oh, tell
     me her story.
                               Chitra

     What more is there to tell?
                               Arjuna

     I seem to see her, in my mind's eye, riding on a white horse,
     proudly holding the reins in her left hand, and in her right a
     bow, and like the Goddess of Victory dispensing glad hope all
     round her.  Like a watchful lioness she protects the litter at
     her dugs with a fierce love.  Woman's arms, though adorned with
     naught but unfettered strength, are beautiful!  My heart is
     restless, fair one, like a serpent reviving from his long
     winter's sleep.  Come, let us both race on swift horses side by
     side, like twin orbs of light sweeping through space.  Out from
     this slumbrous prison of green gloom, this dank, dense cover of
     perfumed intoxication, choking breath.
                               Chitra

     Arjuna, tell me true, if, now at once, by some magic I could
     shake myself free from this voluptuous softness, this timid bloom
     of beauty shrinking from the rude and healthy touch of the world,
     and fling it from my body like borrowed clothes, would you be
     able to bear it?  If I stand up straight and strong with the
     strength of a daring heart spurning the wiles and arts of twining
     weakness, if I hold my head high like a tall young mountain fir,
     no longer trailing in the dust like a liana, shall I then appeal
     to man's eye?   No, no, you could not endure it.  It is better
     that I should keep spread about me all the dainty playthings of
     fugitive youth, and wait for you in patience.  When it pleases
     you to return, I will smilingly pour out for you the wine of
     pleasure in the cup of this beauteous body.  When you are tired
     and satiated with this wine, you can go to work or play; and when
     I grow old I will accept humbly and gratefully whatever corner is
     left for me.  Would it please your heroic soul if the playmate of
     the night aspired to be the helpmeet of the day, if the left arm
     learnt to share the burden of the proud right arm?
                               Arjuna

     I never seem to know you aright.  You seem to me like a goddess
     hidden within a golden image.  I cannot touch you, I cannot pay
     you my dues in return for your priceless gifts.  Thus my love is
     incomplete.  Sometimes in the enigmatic depth of your sad look,
     in your playful words mocking at their own meaning, I gain
     glimpses of a being trying to rend asunder the languorous grace
     of her body, to emerge in a chaste fire of pain through a
     vaporous veil of smiles.  Illusion is the first appearance of
     Truth.  She advances towards her lover in disguise.  But a time
     comes when she throws off her ornaments and veils and stands
     clothed in naked dignity.  I grope for that ultimate you, that
     bare simplicity of truth.

     Why these tears, my love?  Why cover your face with your hands?
     Have I pained you, my darling?  Forget what I said.  I will be
     content with the present.  Let each separate moment of beauty
     come to me like a bird of mystery from its unseen nest in the
     dark  bearing  a message of music.  Let me for ever sit  with
     my hope on the brink of its realization, and thus end my days.





SCENE IX

                         CHITRA and ARJUNA

                      Chitra [cloaked]

     My lord, has the cup been drained to the last drop?  Is this,
     indeed, the end? No, when all is done something still remains,
     and that is my last sacrifice at your feet.

     I brought from the garden of heaven flowers of incomparable
     beauty with which to worship you, god of my heart.  If the rites
     are over, if the flowers have faded, let me throw them out of the
     temple [unveiling in her original male attire].  Now, look
     at your worshipper with gracious eyes.

     I am not beautifully perfect as the flowers with which I
     worshipped.  I have many flaws and blemishes.  I am a
     traveller in the great world-path, my garments are dirty,
     and my feet are bleeding with thorns.  Where should I achieve
     flower-beauty, the unsullied loveliness of a moment's life?  The
     gift that I proudly bring you is the heart of a woman.  Here have
     all pains and joys gathered, the hopes and fears and shames of a
     daughter of the dust; here love springs up struggling toward
     immortal life.  Herein lies an imperfection which yet is noble
     and grand.  If the flower-service is finished, my master, accept
     this as your servant for the days to come!

     I am Chitra, the king's daughter.  Perhaps you will remember the
     day when a woman came to you in the temple of Shiva, her body
     loaded with ornaments and finery.  That shameless woman came to
     court you as though she were a man.  You rejected her; you did
     well.  My lord, I am that woman.  She was my disguise.  Then by
     the boon of gods I obtained for a year the most radiant form that
     a mortal ever wore, and wearied my hero's heart with the burden
     of that deceit.  Most surely I am not that woman.

     I am Chitra.  No goddess to be worshipped, nor yet the
     object of common pity to be brushed aside like a moth with
     indifference.  If you deign to keep me by your side in the path
     of danger and daring, if you allow me to share the great duties
     of your life, then you will know my true self.  If your babe,
     whom  I  am nourishing in my womb be born a son, I  shall  myself
     teach him to be a second Arjuna, and send him to you when the
     time comes, and then at last you will truly know me. Today I can
     only offer you Chitra, the daughter of a king.
                               Arjuna

     Beloved, my life is full.