But what keeps crushing my heart is the thought that the festive flutes which were played at my wedding, nine years ago, welcoming me to this house, will never sound for me again in this life. What rigour of penance is there which can serve to bring me once more, as a bride adorned for her husband, to my place upon that same bridal seat? How many years, how many ages, aeons, must pass before I can find my way back to that day of nine years ago? God can create new things, but has even He the power to create afresh that which has been destroyed? Chapter Twelve Nikhil's Story XV TODAY we are going to Calcutta. Our joys and sorrows lie heavy on us if we merely go on accumulating them. Keeping them and accumulating them alike are false. As master of the house I am in an artificial position--in reality I am a wayfarer on the path of life. That is why the true Master of the House gets hurt at every step and at last there comes the supreme hurt of death. My union with you, my love, was only of the wayside; it was well enough so long as we followed the same road; it will only hamper us if we try to preserve it further. We are now leaving its bonds behind. We are started on our journey beyond, and it will be enough if we can throw each other a glance, or feel the touch of each other's hands in passing. After that? After that there is the larger world-path, the endless current of universal life. How little can you deprive me of, my love, after all? Whenever I set my ear to it, I can hear the flute which is playing, its fountain of melody gushing forth from the flute-stops of separation. The immortal draught of the goddess is never exhausted. She sometimes breaks the bowl from which we drink it, only to smile at seeing us so disconsolate over the trifling loss. I will not stop to pick up my broken bowl. I will march forward, albeit with unsatisfied heart. The Bara Rani came and asked me: "What is the meaning, brother, of all these books being packed up and sent off in box-loads?" "It only means," I replied, "that I have not yet been able to get over my fondness for them." "I only wish you would keep your fondness for some other things as well! Do you mean you are never coming back home?" "I shall be coming and going, but shall not immure myself here any more." "Oh indeed! Then just come along to my room and see how many things __I__ have been unable to shake off __my__ fondness for." With this she took me by the hand and marched me off.