Ananda Math

By Bankim Chandra Chattopadhyay

One of the most popular Indian novels of all ages, ‘Ananda Math’ was translated innumerable times into Indian and English languages. Five editions were published in Bengali and Hindi during the author’s lifetime, the first in 1882. The novel has the backdrop of the 18th century famine in Bengal, infamous as "Chhiyattorer Manvantar" (famine of 76th Bengali year, 1276), to narrate the saga of armed uprising of the ascetics and their disciples against the pillaging East India Company rulers. The uprising is historically known as ‘Santan Vidroha’, the ascetics being the children of Goddess Jagadambe. The saga of ‘Ananda Math’ is thrilling and best epitomised in the patriotic mass-puller song "Bande Mataram’ (‘Hail thee, O My Motherland’). The song is still a mantra that stirs imagination of millions of Hindus. The ascetics robbed the tormentors of people — the British rulers and the greedy jamindars — distributed the looted wealth to poverty-stricken people but kept nothing for themselves. Their targets were mostly the Company armoury and supplies. They had a highly organised setup, spread throughout Bengal. It was also India’s first battle for freedom, and not the Sipahi Vidroha of 1857.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Diamond Books
• Release date: Jun 3, 2022
• ISBN: 9789350830499

Book preview

INTRODUCTION

It was a vast and dense forest, with a variety of trees. Sal was in abundance among them. The endless chain of the trees, joined with branches and leaves, was spread over to distant places. This continuity was so perfect that there was no gap for sunlight to reach the ground. Moreover, it was not simply a case of some miles but had covered miles and miles, playing musical sounds with the help of crooning air on the other side, the ground was covered with pitched darkness. Even at noon, the light was absent there. Accordingly, the atmosphere looked very awful. Except the sound of leaves originated from natural rubbing against one another and the voices of wild animals, nothing more could be heard. None would dare to walk through it even in broad daylight.

First, it was a dense and dark forest, then the night was in progress. The second quarter was passing on. There was no moonlight, outside the forest, and nothing was visible. The darkness was similar to the darkness of infernal regions (paathaal¹).

Although, the forest was the habitat of millions and millions of species of animals, birds, insects yet there was complete silence. The darkness was experienceable, but not the eerie spirit of voiceful earth.

In that darkness, at this juncture, suddenly a sentence echoed in the air, ‘Will my desire not be fulfilled?’

The sound merged immediately in the atmosphere, as if there was neither a voice nor its echo. After some pause, it was the same question, asked again. Thrice the question echoed in the atmosphere, then came a reply in the form of a query, What is your vow?

My entire life.

The life is insignificant, every body could renounce it.

What else? What is more to offer?

Devotion echoed the reply.

1.paathaal: A Biblical infernal region. Allegorically known in Indian mythology and philosophy as the place of anti-human demons -- full of pains, torment and agony.

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First Part

First Chapter

It was the Bangla year 1176. The fierce summer. Village Padachihnna was reeling under scorching heat. In fact, it was the hottest summer. Although, there were many homes, yet not a soul was being seen. Hundreds of mud houses were positioned in between the high-rise buildings. Shops were lined up making a chain. They were filled up with various commodities. On ordinary days the village would bustle with life. But, today it was quietude prevailed all around. It was a day when the haat¹ would be set up, even a single shop was not open. The market was totally closed. The weavers, with their looms shut, stayed indoors. Businessmen whiled away with children and the charitable persons had stopped giving donations. Schools were closed. In this atmosphere, children wept with a sense of fear. No one bathed in ponds. Birds as well as animals kept away from the scene. Even the cows were seldom seen grazing in fields. Only the voices of foxes and dogs echoed in the burial grounds.

Aside, there was a large building. Its domes were visible from distance. Among the smaller houses of the area, it was beautified like a mountain top. The doors were closed. There was no crowd of people nor sound, even air could hardly waft in. Although, it was noon, yet inside rooms there was complete darkness. In this situation, a couple sat in a thoughtful posture, like blossoming flowers at night. They were foreseeing the hell of famine, which was the subject of their thoughts.

In 1174, the crop yield was not upto villagers’ expectation. Therefore, the situation was out of control in the year ahead. People were in distress, but the rulers were indifferent to their woes. They did not grant any concession. This apathy forced people to go for one square meal a day. In 1175 it rained good rain during the monsoon. People thought God was kind to them. People were happy. Rakhaal² sang songs in the fields. The farmers’ wives upped their desires to their husband for goodies. But, in the month of Ashwin the rain god played truant again. So was in the month of Kartik. The two months passed out without a drop of rain. The paddy crop was destroyed. Whatever little crop had survived, the royal servants purchased it for the royal soldiers. For people, there was shortage of edibles. At first, they dropped the dinner, then started eating half of what they naturally eat, that too once in 24 hours. Thereafter, they observed fasting for every two nights. In the month of Chaitra³, the little crop they had received from fields was not sufficient for a mouthful diet, even once a day. But thoughts of tax collector Mohammad Raza Khan was different, unusual. In his mind, it was a better time to show his efficiency. He levied tax at the rate of ten percent to every family. The whole of Bengal province wailed in tears.

People were compelled to beg for living. But how long? Lastly, they had to live by observing fast. It affected their health to a considerable extent. People sold their cows, oxen and ploughs. Even the paddy seeds were not spared. Houses, fields and gardens besides their property became preys to the hunger. Then girls, boys and wives were put on sale. Finally, a time had come when there were sellers everywhere but no purchasers. People used to consume the grass, leaves and soft branches of trees. The uncivilised people with those of lowly order started eating the flesh of dogs, cats and rats. When nothing was available, people had to run away from their villages and die of hunger at new places. Those who stayed back embraced death due to continual fasting or diseases or by consuming vegetation unfit for human consumption.

The epidemics also found a suitable place to reign. There were cases of cholera, fever, tuberculosis and small pox everywhere. Small pox was the main killer taking toll of most lives. People were dying in their homes. There was none to take care of them because a large section of population was affected. To get medicines and even water for drinking was very difficult. The corpses were lying unattended inside the well-built homes. The scenario was not different and there putrefied bodies all around emitting stench. Some residents left the infected persons to die their death and fled from the scene.

Mahendra Singh was a rich man of the Padachihnna village. But now he was faced with a situation where there could not be any difference between the rich and the poor. One by one all his relatives and servants left him. Either they fled away or done to death by the killer diseases. In this house were left only three creatures - Mahendra Singh, his wife Kalyani and a baby girl. I narrate their story from here on.

Kalyani went to the cowshed and milched the cow. She boiled the milk and fed her child. Then she offered grass and water to the cow and returned. Mahendra asked, ‘How many days we can live like this?’

Kalyani replied, ‘Not many days. Whatever little we have to carry on with I would carry on. After that you should walk away to the city with the baby.’

‘If you think it was the last solution, I shall prefer to go away from this place right now. Why should you face these difficulties?’ They debated the matter hotly between them.

Kalyani asked, ‘Would this plan be beneficial, if we exercise it?’

Mahendra replied, ‘Conditions maybe same in the city too.’ He added, ‘If we go to Qasim Bazar, Murshidabad or Calcutta, perhaps we can save our lives. It is the most appropriate time to leave this place.’

He continued, ‘This house is full of wealth collected by our forefathers. All these will be grabbed by thieves in our absence.’

‘If robbers come, even we jointly cannot save these. Life is more precious than wealth. It is better to leave it at once - this is the right moment. We can make use of it again on return, provided we survive.’

Mahendra inquired, ‘Can you walk on foot? All the palanquin carriers have died. There is the cart, but no oxen to pull it.’

‘Don’t worry, I can walk on foot.’

Kalyani had decided whether she survived or not, other two must get a chance to survive.

On the very next morning, they took some money, locked the doors and freed their cows and the oxen.