While boating, the very rocks we consider perilous—those we wish someone would cast away—are the ones we cling to when our boat is wrecked.

Govindi seated him on a sofa and spoke in a voice soft with affection, “Why do you belittle yourself so? For money, which is the root of all evil? What happiness does it bring us? Night after night, some new worry, the ruin of one’s soul. You spoke of giving up your job, yet you hardly found time to write letters to your own relatives. Has this world, since time immemorial, ever worshipped anything but wealth? You have often said yourself: when Lakshmi is with you, she wags her tail before you, but tomorrow, with equal speed, she will turn to someone else and not even glance your way. The truly virtuous do not bow before wealth; they look to see what is within you. If you have truth, justice, sacrifice, and strength, they will embrace you. If not, they will turn away, seeing you as a thief, even become your enemy. This is what I tell you.”

Mehta, as if startled from a heavenly dream, said, “What are you saying?”

After experiencing the purest truths of life, the great souls have spoken thus. The meaning of life—

Govindi, addressing Mehta, said, “No one ever considers who truly becomes wealthy. Only he who can outwit others with his cunning…”

Khanna interrupted, “No, Govindi, we have lived together long enough to know—wealth is not gained by cunning alone. For that, one must devote body, mind, intellect, even the grace of God. All our skill and divine power—wealth is the name of their harmony.”

Govindi, not opposing but mediating, said, “I do not deny it, but even so, the importance we attach to it in life is not justified. I am happy that this burden has been lifted from your shoulders. Such things—selfishness and pride—are not the purpose of life. The true aim is not to become an idol of selfishness and arrogance, but to serve the suffering. Do not take it amiss, but what has been the meaning and purpose of your life until now? Deprived of that means, you have had to endure more pain and sorrow, but do you not see? This has given you the chance to burn with the injustice of the world. To suffer is sometimes nobler. If by losing wealth we could save our lives, it would be no loss. There is honor in fighting as a soldier for justice, but there is even greater honor in enduring suffering. If your silent simplicity has gone to waste, if it has all been for nothing—”

Mehta looked at her with eyes full of devotion, his face heavy with sorrow. He struggled to speak, and Malti was pained in her heart. In Govindi’s eyes, Mehta’s soul was vast, his life so radiant.

:29:

Nohri was not among those women who, after doing a good deed, become entangled in pride. On the contrary, she would boast of her actions and shower as much love as she could, even if it meant stamping her feet and making a scene. Such a person deserves not praise, but only disgrace and infamy.

Godan: 29

It is not a matter of disgrace. If one does not have the desire or the means, no one can blame them for it. But when we do a good deed and then begin to remind others of our favor, the very person for whom we did the kindness becomes our enemy and wishes to erase our favor. That same kindness, if it remains in the heart of the doer, is truly a virtue; but if it is brought out into the open, it becomes a vice.

Nohri went about telling everyone, “Poor Hori was in great trouble. He was about to mortgage his land for his daughter’s wedding. When I saw his condition, I felt pity. I never liked Dhaniya; that widow is so proud, she walks as if she doesn’t even touch the earth. Poor Hori was wasting away with worry. I thought, let me help him in this crisis. After all, it is only humans who help other humans. And Hori is no longer a stranger to us—whether he admits it or not, he is now our relative. I took out the money and gave it to him, otherwise the girl would still be sitting unmarried.”

But Dhaniya was not one to listen quietly. “Was the money given as charity? As if you are some great benefactor! The mahajan will take interest, and so will you. What favor is this? If you had given it to someone else, even the principal would have disappeared, let alone the interest. Since we have taken it, we will return it the moment we have the money in hand. Were we the ones who ate up your household’s honor and never acknowledged it? No one here would even let you stand at their door. We have preserved your dignity, kept the color in your cheeks.”

It was ten o’clock at night. The dark monsoon clouds had gathered. The whole village was shrouded in darkness. Hori, after his meal, smoked his hookah and was about to go to bed when Bhola came and stood before him.

Hori asked, “How are you, Bhola Mahto? If you are to live in this village, why not build a small house of your own? People in the village say all sorts of things—do you like hearing such talk? Don’t take it the wrong way, but since we are now related, I cannot bear to hear your name maligned. Otherwise, what business is it of mine?”

Just then, Dhaniya came in, bringing a lota of water to place by Hori’s bedside. Hearing this, she said, “If it were another man, he would have cut off such a woman’s head.”

Hori scolded her, “Why do you talk nonsense? Put the water down and go to sleep. If you ever stray from