heart to do this, I will willingly give you my hand. But just don`t imagine life as a
complete learned man to be too delightful. I now see it around me, dear Arthur. It is a
tiring, troublesome life full of work; only the delight in doing it gives it its charm.
One doesn`t get rich with it; as a writer, one acquires with difficulty what one needs
for survival.... To make your life as a writer you have to be able to produce
something excellent.... now, more than ever, there is a need of brilliant heads. Arthur,
think about it carefully, and choose, but then stay firm; let your perseverance never
fail, and you will safely achieve your goal. Choose what you want...but with tears in
my eyes I implore you: do not cheat on yourself. Treat yourself seriously and
honestly. The welfare of your life is at stake, as well as the happiness of my old days;
because only you and Adele can hopefully replace my lost youth. I couldn`t bear it to
know that you are unhappy, especially if I had to blame myself for having let this
great misfortune happen to you out of my too large pliability. You see, dear Arthur,
that I dearly love you, and that I want to help you in everything. Reward me by your
confidence and by, having once made up your mind, following my advice in fulfilling
your choice. And don`t hurt me by rebelliousness. You know that I am not stubborn. I
know how to give way by arguments, and I will never demand anything from you I
won`t be able to support by arguments....
Adieu, dear Arthur, the post is urgent and my fingers hurt. Bear in mind all I
send and write to you, and answer soon.
Your mother
J. Schopenhauer
In his old age Arthur wrote, «When I finished reading this letter I shed a flood of
tears.» By return mail he opted for liberation from his apprenticeship, and Johanna
responded, «That you have so quickly come to a decision, against your wont, would
disquiet me in anyone else. I should fear rashness; with you it reassures me, I regard it as
the power of your innermost desires that drives you.`
Johanna wasted no time; she notified Arthur`s merchant patron and his landlord
that Arthur was leaving Hamburg, she organized his move and arranged for him to attend
a gymnasium in Gotha, fifty kilometers from his mother`s home in Weimar.
Arthur`s chains were broken.
15
Pam in India
_________________________
Itis noteworthy and remarkable
to see how man, besides his
life in the concrete, always
lives a second life in the
abstract...(where) in the sphere
of calm deliberation, what
previously possessed him
completely and moved him
intensely appears to him cold,
colorless, and distant: he is
a mere spectator and observer.
_________________________
As the Bombay–Igatpuri train slowed for a stop at a small village, Pam heard the clangs
of ceremonial cymbals and peered through the grimy train window. A dark–eyed boy of
about ten or eleven, pointing to her window, ran alongside holding aloft a raised rag and
yellow plastic water pail. Since she had arrived in India two weeks ago, Pam had been
shaking her head no. No to sightseeing guides, shoe shines, freshly squeezed tangerine
juice, sari cloth, Nike tennis shoes, money exchange. No to beggars and no to numerous
sexual invitations, sometimes offered frankly, sometimes discreetly by winking, raising
eyebrows, licking lips, and flicking tongues. And, finally, she thought, someone has
actually offered me something I need. She vigorously nodded yes, yes to the young
window washer, who responded with a huge toothy grin. Delighted with Pam`s patronage
and audience, he washed the pane with long theatrical flourishes.
Paying him generously and shooing him away as he lingered to stare at her, Pam
settled back and watched a procession of villagers snake their way down a dusty street
following a priest clad in billowing scarlet trousers and yellow shawl. Their destination
was the center of the town square and a large papier–mГўchГ© statue of Lord Ganesha, a
short plump Buddha–like body bearing an elephant`s head. Everyone—the priest, the men
dressed in gleaming white, and the women robed in saffron and magenta—carried small
Ganesha statues. Young girls scattered handfuls of flowers, and pairs of adolescent boys
carried poles holding metal burners emitting clouds of incense. Amid the clash of
cymbals and the roll of drums, everyone chanted, «Ganapathi bappa Moraya, Purchya
varshi laukariya.»
«Pardon me, can you tell me what they`re chanting?» Pam turned to the copper–skinned man sitting opposite her sipping tea, the only other passenger sharing the
compartment. He was a delicate win–some man dressed in a loose white cotton shirt and
trousers. At the sound of Pam`s voice he swallowed the wrong way and coughed
furiously. Her question delighted him since he had been attempting, in vain, since the
train commenced in Bombay to strike up a conversation with the handsome woman
sitting across from him. After a vigorous cough he replied, with a squeak, «My apologies,
madam. Physiology is not always at one`s command. What the people here, and
throughout all of India today, are saying is вЂBeloved Ganapati, lord of Moraya, come
again early next year.`”
«Ganapati?»
«Yes, very confusing, I know. Perhaps you know him by his more common name,
Ganesha. He has many other names, as well, for example, Vighnesvara, Vinayaka,
Gajanana.»
«And this parade?»
«The beginning of the ten–day festival of Ganesha. Perhaps you may be fortunate
enough to be in Bombay next week at the end of the festival and witness the entire
population of the city walk into the ocean and immerse their Ganesha statues in incoming
waves.»
«Oh, and that? A moon? Or sun?» Pam pointed to four children carrying a large
yellow papier–mГўchГ© globe.
Vijay purred to himself. He welcomed the questions and hoped the train stop
would be long and that this conversation would go on and on. Such voluptuous women
were common in American movies, but never before had he had the good fortune to
speak to one. This woman`s grace and pale beauty stirred his imagination. She seemed to
have stepped out of the ancient erotic carvings of the Kama Sutra. And where might this
encounter lead? he wondered. Could this be the life–changing event for which he had
long sought? He was free, his garment factory had, by Indian standards, made him
wealthy. His teenaged fiancГ©e died of tuberculosis two years ago, and, until his parents
selected a new bride, he was unencumbered.
«Ah, it is a moon the children hold. They carry it to honor an old legend. First, you
must know that Lord Ganesha was renowned for his appetite. Note his ample belly. He
was once invited for a feast and stuffed himself with desert pastries called laddoos. Have
you eaten laddoos?»
Pam shook her head, fearing that he might produce one from his valise. A close
friend had contracted hepatitis from a tea shop in India, and thus far she had heeded her
physician`s advice to eat nothing but four–star–hotel food. When away from the hotel she
had limited herself to food she could peel—mainly tangerines, hard–boiled eggs, and
peanuts.
«My mother made wonderful coconut almond laddoos,” Vijay continued.
«Essentially, they are fried flour balls with a sweet cardamom syrup—that sounds
prosaic, but you must believe me when I say they are far more than the sum of their
ingredients. But back to Lord Ganesha, who was so stuffed that he could not stand up
properly. He lost his balance, fell, his stomach burst, and all the laddoos tumbled out.