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Tagore, Rabindranath, 1861-1941

"Chitra, a play in one act"

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.


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