I never had the trial. Now I think
it has come.
I used to test my strength of mind by imagining all kinds of evil
which might happen to me--poverty, imprisonment, dishonour,
death--even Bimala's. And when I said to myself that I should be
able to receive these with firmness, I am sure I did not
exaggerate. Only I could never even imagine one thing, and today
it is that of which I am thinking, and wondering whether I can
really bear it. There is a thorn somewhere pricking in my heart,
constantly giving me pain while I am about my daily work. It
seems to persist even when I am asleep. The very moment I wake
up in the morning, I find that the bloom has gone from the face
of the sky. What is it? What has happened?
My mind has become so sensitive, that even my past life, which
came to me in the disguise of happiness, seems to wring my very
heart with its falsehood; and the shame and sorrow which are
coming close to me are losing their cover of privacy, all the
more because they try to veil their faces. My heart has become
all eyes. The things that should not be seen, the things I do
not want to see--these I must see.
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