"I say there is; there must be a going back. Your deeds can be undone, expiated. Listen!" Pantulu controlled his excitement and continued more quietly. "Listen, my son. Let me put before you all that it means if you refuse to come back to us. Who is to perform the funeral rites at my death if you cannot be chief mourner? Are they to be left unperformed? Is my spirit to wander as a wretched ghost and be born again as an unhappy contemptible pariah or beast because my son refuses to fulfil his duties?"
"You will never be born again on this earth, my father; you will never become a man or a beast again," cried Ananda, his eyes aglow with enthusiasm. "The man-God of the Christians came to open men's eyes to better things, to assure the world of immediate pardon for sin, and to promise a happiness after death far exceeding any earthly happiness. Think what a glorious future He offers to us in place of the hopeless cycles of rebirths."
Pantulu shook his head in perplexity, not without fear at the blasphemy against Hinduism that fell upon his startled ears.
"Our faith was ancient before ever the man-God of the Christians was born. Were the millions, who lived and died before His time, living and dying in error?"
"They lived and died according to the light given to them by God. When Christ was born, a new light came into the world. It is by following the new light that I have found my hope in a glorious future, an existence of joy and happiness surpassing even the Nirvana itself; for we shall retain our personality and consciousness which is denied to those who look for absorption in the Hindu Deity. Try and realise the joy that you and I, my beloved father, will feel when we meet in that golden future. At Coomara's death I was in despair. Every time I heard a dog shriek or saw a horse overloaded and beaten, I thought of my friend suffering similar pains; and all for no fault of his! It was intolerable in its injustice; I could not bear it. Then I met the family of an Englishman who was killed suddenly; and I wondered at their peace, their resignation, their perfect faith in his happiness and their belief in a future meeting. When I found that the secret lay in their religion what could I conclude but that their religion must be better and more advanced than mine?"
Pantulu had listened unwillingly at first and with prejudice; gradually his curiosity was aroused; he wanted to learn what it was that had attracted Ananda and taken so strong a hold upon him. Moreover the charm of hearing his son's voice once more exercised a kind of hypnotic influence, causing him almost to forget the vital issues of their conversation and their variance of opinion. There was comfort also in proximity. The poor old man found delight in the mere touch of his boy's hand. Nothing could kill the paternal love that had filled Pantulu's life.
In the distance he heard his wife speaking sharply to one of her women in the kitchen. The sound made him start guiltily. What had he been doing? Listening to rank heresy instead of preaching orthodoxy. He pulled himself together with an effort.
"My son, the Christian faith may be all very well for Christians. We are Hindus, born, by a fate over which we have no control, in the Hindu faith. The faith is bound up with our social and political laws and cannot be separated. Let me point out to you how important it is that you should make no change. If by remaining an outcaste you cannot fulfil the part of chief mourner at my death, the law of caste—and it is upheld by our country's law—disinherits you, You cannot inherit any of my wealth, my lands, my houses, my looms, my silk farms, my jewels and hoard of silver. Not a single rupee will be yours if another hand drops the rice and butter into the fire before my dead body immediately after death; if another bears the pot of fire in my funeral procession; if another lights the funeral pile. Would you wish to lose your birthright, the riches that should be yours, the honour as head of one of the oldest and most respected families of Chirakul? Would you deliberately make yourself a pauper, an outcaste, despised even by the pariahs? Consider well all that you propose to sacrifice."
Once more Pantulu gazed anxiously into his boy's face for a sign that he relented, that his pleading had prevailed; and his heart sank within him as he noted the tightening of the lower lip and the obstinate tilt of the chin. Again he spoke, repeating the old arguments, enumerating the property that should one day belong to his son; but without avail. At length Ananda made a kind of response in putting a question.
"If I do not take upon myself the duties of chief mourner, on whom do they fall?" he asked.