He was a great admirer of Valmiki and Kalidas. I remember how once after reciting a description of the Himalayas from Kalidas with the full strength of his voice, he said: "The succession of long [=a] sounds here is not an accident. The poet has deliberately repeated this sound all the way from _Devatatma_ down to _Nagadhiraja_ as an assistance in realising the glorious expanse of the Himalayas." At the time the height of my ambition was to become a poet like Vihari Babu. I might have even succeeded in working myself up to the belief that I was actually writing like him, but for my sister-in-law, his zealous devotee, who stood in the way. She would keep reminding me of a Sanskrit saying that the unworthy aspirant after poetic fame departs in jeers! Very possibly she knew that if my vanity was once allowed to get the upper hand it would be difficult afterwards to bring it under control. So neither my poetic abilities nor my powers of song readily received any praise from her; rather would she never let slip an opportunity of praising somebody else's singing at my expense; with the result that I gradually became quite convinced of the defects of my voice. Misgivings about my poetic powers also assailed me; but, as this was the only field of activity left in which I had any chance of retaining my self-respect, I could not allow the judgment of another to deprive me of all hope; moreover, so insistent was the spur within me that to stop my poetic adventure was a matter of sheer impossibility. (20) _Publishing_ My writings so far had been confined to the family circle. Then was started the monthly called the _Gyanankur_, Sprouting Knowledge, and, as befitted its name it secured an embryo poet as one of its contributors. It began to publish all my poetic ravings indiscriminately, and to this day I have, in a corner of my mind, the fear that, when the day of judgment comes for me, some enthusiastic literary police-agent will institute a search in the inmost zenana of forgotten literature, regardless of the claims of privacy, and bring these out before the pitiless public gaze. My first prose writing also saw the light in the pages of the _Gyanankur_. It was a critical essay and had a bit of a history. A book of poems had been published entitled _Bhubanmohini Pratibha_.[37] Akshay Babu in the _Sadharani_ and Bhudeb Babu in the _Education Gazette_ hailed this new poet with effusive acclamation. A friend of mine, older than myself, whose friendship dates from then, would come and show me letters he had received signed _Bhubanmohini_. He was one of those whom the book had captivated and used frequently to send reverential offerings of books or cloth[38] to the address of the reputed authoress.