Songs of Desire More close and close his footsteps wind, The Magic Music in his heart Beats quick and quicker till he find The quiet chamber far apart.³⁹¹ Oh Virtuous one, these lips cannot utter love The speechless is filled with dreams, and sorrows of that knowledge. Fear nothing, gentle maid; Let not the palpitating breast distress Your slender waist. In me, behold your slave! By your avowed affection, elevated To highest ecstasy.³⁹² Dear reader, Kumud’s song travelled from Vasant Gufa to Saumanasya Gufa. It travelled from the depths of Kumud’s heart to Sarasvatichandra’s heart and found an echo. It is not likely that Sarasvatichandra would not recognise Kumud’s voice. That voice, when she was afar, reverberated in his ears and filled him with its melody, its flute-like sweetness and sonority. And when that voice could be heard from Kumud’s own lips, how the beloved heart palpitated can only be imagined. We cannot even understand it in all its fullness, how is one to describe it? The song of that heart, the delicate sound of those lips and the solitude of the cave at the time of moonrise were all in harmony with the song.

O’ yogi! Wait a while, Guide me to the right path, In this dark forest night I roam alone with no memory of home The ‘I’ in the song indicated that the singer was male. Sarasvatichandra was bewildered and wondered, could it be a man who sings? The song progressed. My legs refuse to move, My tired eyes cloud over, Today the forest path is unending, With each step it unravels further ‘My Lord!³⁹³ This is Tarang Shankar’s poem which I had given to Kumud. Who else but Kumud could be singing it? Does she not know that I am here?’ There I spy a distant lamp, I am drawn to its light— A sage must reside therein; He will bring an end to my sorrows. O’ yogi, be merciful! Guide me to that path! ‘Surely, this song is not addressed to me! The next lines will provide the answer to that plea.’ The yogi said: Son, beware! Be not tempted by that light, Know it to be a ghostly fire That lures only to destroy. The famished and the parched find succour In this cave of mine, are fed sparse food; Son, come! Reside here, harbour no doubts. Fruits and grain, Soft straw to sleep on, Pure waters of a clear spring,

Joy, peace and words of solace Abound here inexhaustible. God comes face to face here. Son, to such an abode you have come, Know that your worries will end. ‘How I wish I could give you the same solace,’ said Sarasvatichandra. The song continued. The sorrows are false, Frail is the human mind, A morsel fills the belly, A yard is enough to sleep. Union is but momentary, Yet the mind is not content. God has created joy, Yet the mind finds its own sorrow. Like morning dew, The yogi spoke words