Seeing Tarkasiddhanta, someone said, “Sir, have you heard? The Bitlals, having lost everything, have come running back here out of fear of the warrant—yet they show no shame in displaying their faces! Baburam left behind a fine pestle for the destruction of the family line.” Tarkasiddhanta replied, “The village had cooled down in the absence of those rascals—have they come back again? Ah, Mother Ganga, if only you would show a little mercy, we might yet be saved.”

Many other Brahmins were bathing; upon hearing the news of the return of the young babus, their teeth began to chatter. They thought to themselves, “It seems we shall have to offer today’s bath and daily rites to Srikrishna himself.” The shopkeepers and merchants, glancing toward the ghat, said, “Well! We’d heard that Moti Babu would return with all his wealth, beating the drums in triumph—now, never mind the wealth, we can’t even spot a single fisherman’s dinghy.” Premnarayan said, “Don’t be anxious—Moti Babu, owing to the troubles of Kamala and Kamini, has ended up in the southern cremation ground. The Babu is a man of great piety—a blessed son of the Goddess. Soon you’ll see dinghies, wealth, and ships, and while you’re still frying puffed rice and lentils, you’ll hear the sound of the drums.”

The matter of a pure heart, Thakchacha’s forged warrant, Barda Babu’s sorrow, Motilal’s fear; the meeting and conversation of Becharam and Banchharam.

A foul morning breeze was blowing—the fragrances of champak, shefali, and jasmine wafted through the air. The birds were chirping, their eyes bright with excitement. Because of the matchmaker, Benibabu was deep in conversation with Barda Babu at home. From the south, a pack of dogs began barking, and the street boys came running, shouting “ho ho!” When the commotion eased a little, the shrill voices of “Go away!” and “Don’t go to the Gopis’ house, I warn you!” floated to their ears in a wave of comic delight.

Benibabu and Barda Babu got up and saw that Becharam Babu of Bahubazar was approaching—lost in song, whistling continuously. The dogs were barking, the boys were shouting, and the residents of Bahubazar, annoyed, were shooing them away. As Becharam drew near, Benibabu and Barda Babu rose and respectfully welcomed him, offering him a seat. After exchanging pleasantries, Becharam Babu placed his hand on Barda Babu’s shoulder and said, “Brother!” From childhood, I have seen many kinds of people—indeed, many of them possess many virtues. But whether I call them good or bad, with their faults and merits, that is another matter. Yet, such humility, simplicity, courage in matters of faith, and pure-heartedness towards others as you possess—I have not seen in anyone else. I myself try to walk humbly, it is true, but at times, when I see the pride of others, my own pride is roused—and as soon as pride arises, anger follows, and in anger, my pride swells all the more. I spare no one—whatever comes to mind, I say it then and there. But in my own faults, I am not so simple—I do not wish to confess my misdeeds openly; I feel that if I admit them, I will be diminished in the eyes of others. In matters of faith, my courage is very little—though I know well in my heart what ought to be done, I lack the courage to always act according to my convictions. To keep a pure heart towards others is most difficult—I know well that, having taken human birth, one should always strive for the good of others, never for their harm, but to put this into practice is most arduous. If someone utters even a harsh word, my heart turns away from them—I immediately see them as a thoroughly bad person. But even if someone wrongs you, your heart remains pure towards them—in other words, you never turn away from doing them good, even if they do you harm. And if someone slanders you, you are not disturbed by it—is that not a rare virtue?

Borda: One sees only good in those one loves, and only faults in those one cannot bear to see. What you have said is all kindness—these are the words of your affection, not of my own merit. To keep one’s heart pure at all times, in all matters, towards all people—this is nearly impossible for a human being. Our hearts are filled with anger, envy, jealousy, and pride—can these be restrained so easily? To purify the heart, humility is essential—but often, one sees only false humility in people. Some are humble out of fear, some out of distress or misfortune—that sort of humility is fleeting. For humility to endure, we must have this firm conviction in our minds: He who is the Creator alone is great—He alone is wise—He alone is pure and faultless; we are here today, gone tomorrow—what strength or wisdom do we possess? If our errors, bad judgments, and misdeeds are punished, then what cause have we for pride? Such humility...

When anger, envy, malice, and pride are diminished in the mind, then one’s heart becomes pure towards others—then one no longer wishes to flaunt one’s learning, intelligence, wealth, or position to irritate others—then the sight of another’s prosperity no longer breeds jealousy—then one feels no urge to slander or think ill of others—then, even if wronged by someone, anger or resentment does not arise—then the mind is absorbed only in self-purification and the welfare of others. But to reach such a state is difficult without long practice. Nowadays, even a little knowledge gives rise to foreign conceit: “What I say—what I do—is the best; what others say or do is worthless.”

Becharam: Brother! Hearing these words soothes my soul—I always wish to converse with you.

As this conversation was going on, Premnarayan Majumdar came hurrying in with news that the Calcutta police were arresting Thakchacha on account of a forged promissory note case. Upon hearing this, Becharam Babu exclaimed, “Serves him right!” and was overjoyed. Borda