The King of the Dark Chamber Part 4

SUDARSHANA. No, I don't.

SURANGAMA. The large door has opened ... he is coming; my King is coming in.

SUDARSHANA. How can you perceive when he comes?

SURANGAMA. I cannot say: I seem to hear his footsteps in my own heart. Being his servant of this dark chamber, I have developed a sense--I can know and feel without seeing.

SUDARSHANA. Would that I had this sense too, Surangama!

SURANGAMA. You will have it, O Queen ... this sense will awaken in you one day. Your longing to have a sight of him makes you restless, and therefore all your mind is strained and warped in that direction. When you are past this state of feverish restlessness, everything will become quite easy.

SUDARSHANA. How is it that it is easy to you, who are a servant, and so difficult to me, the Queen?

SURANGAMA. It is because I am a mere servant that no difficulty baulks me. On the first day, when he left this room to my care, saying, "Surangama, you will always keep this chamber ready for me: this is all your task," then I did not say, even in thought, "Oh, give me the work of those who keep the other rooms lighted."

No, but as soon as I bent all my mind to my task, a power woke and grew within me, and mastered every part of me unopposed....

Oh, there he comes! ... he is standing outside, before the door. Lord! O King!

SONG outside.

Open your door. I am waiting.

The ferry of the light from the dawn to the dark is done for the day, The evening star is up.

Have you gathered your flowers, braided your hair, And donned your white robe for the night?

The cattle have come to their folds and birds to their nests.

The cross paths that run to all quarters have merged into one in the dark.

Open your door. I am waiting.

SURANGAMA. O King, who can keep thy own doors shut against thee?

They are not locked or bolted--they will swing wide open if you only touch them with thy fingers. Wilt thou not even touch them?

Wilt thou not enter unless I go and open the doors?

SONG.

At a breath you can remove my veils, my lord!

If I fall asleep on the dust and hear not your call, would you wait till I wake?

Would not the thunder of your chariot wheel make the earth tremble?

Would you not burst open the door and enter your own house unbidden?

Then do you go, O Queen, and open the door for him: he will not enter otherwise.

SUDARSHANA. I do not see anything distinctly in the dark--I do not know where the doors are. You know everything here--go and open the doors for me.

[SURANGAMA opens the door, bows to the KING, and goes out. The KING will remain invisible throughout this play.]

SUDARSHANA. Why do you not allow me to see you in the light?

KING. So you want to see me in the midst of a thousand things in broad daylight! Why should I not be the only thing you can feel in this darkness?

SUDARSHANA. But I must see you--I am longing to have a sight of you.

KING. You will not be able to bear the sight of me--it will only give you pain, poignant and overpowering.

SUDARSHANA. How can you say that I shall be unable to bear your sight? Oh, I can feel even in this dark how lovely and wonderful you are: why should I be afraid of you in the light? But tell me, can you see me in the dark?

KING. Yes, I can.

SUDARSHANA. What do you see?

KING. I see that the darkness of the infinite heavens, whirled into life and being by the power of my love, has drawn the light of a myriad stars into itself, and incarnated itself in a form of flesh and blood. And in that form, what aeons of thought and striving, untold yearnings of limitless skies, the countless gifts of unnumbered seasons!

SUDARSHANA. Am I so wonderful, so beautiful? When I hear you speak so, my heart swells with gladness and pride. But how can I believe the wonderful things you tell me? I cannot find them in myself!

KING. Your own mirror will not reflect them--it lessens you, limits you, makes you look small and insignificant. But could you see yourself mirrored in my own mind, how grand would you appear! In my own heart you are no longer the daily individual which you think you are--you are verily my second self.

SUDARSHANA. Oh, do show me for an instant how to see with your eyes! Is there nothing at all like darkness to you? I am afraid when I think of this. This darkness which is to me real and strong as death--is this simply nothing to you? Then how can there be any union at all between us, in a place like this? No, no--it is impossible: there is a barrier betwixt us two: not here, no, not in this place. I want to find you and see you where I see trees and animals, birds and stones and the earth

KING. Very well, you can try to find me--but none will point me out to you. You will have to recognise me, if you can, yourself.

And even if anybody professes to show me to you, how can you be sure he is speaking the truth?

SUDARSHANA. I shall know you; I shall recognise you. I shall find you out among a million men. I cannot be mistaken.

KING. Very well, then, to-night, during the festival of the full moon of the spring, you will try to find me out from the high turret of my palace--search for me with your own eyes amongst the crowd of people.

SUDARSHANA. Wilt thou be there among them?

KING. I shall show myself again and again, from every side of the crowd. Surangama!

[Enter SURANGAMA]

SURANGAMA. What is thy pleasure, lord?

KING. To-night is the full moon festival of the spring.

SURANGAMA. What have I to do to-night?

KING. To-day is a festive day, not a day of work. The pleasure gardens are in their full bloom--you will join in my festivities there.

SURANGAMA. I shall do as thou desirest, lord.

KING. The Queen wants to see me to-night with her own eyes.

SURANGAMA. Where will the Queen see you?

KING. Where the music will play at its sweetest, where the air will be heavy with the dust of flowers--there in the pleasure grove of silver light and mellow gloom.