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Only Kumar was with me – an employee, who therefore could only watch in silence;
they crowded into that small space, and those who would not fit in just stood out by
the many openings, not about to miss any of the show. In front of them all I picked
up the interphone and dialled Arjun’s number, to verify that they had already gone
to him; just as if they couldn’t hear me I gave him a vivid description of the scene:
we had to laugh; as so often in our many years of solidarity humour was the one
sure refuge and dignity. One of them, Sanjeev, had assumed the role of
spokesman, but the others were not too thrilled with his performance; they wanted
more punch; another, I do not recall who, made to say that of course I could
remain at Matrimandir, join the work somewhere and somehow, provided that I
would not obstruct the progress of collaboration… I declined, and said that as they
had built their mansion they could now live in it.
I also said to them that I could not feel respect for their ‘process’ which had to
make use of legalities to obtain the desired results, and turn Aurovilians into
Government servants, appointed by its machinery to rule its behalf…
John H had by then entered the room and managed to sit by me; in some measure
it was for my sake, as he was concerned there could be some physical violence
from some of them; but I saw too that there was equally in him a measure of
adopting the new order of things, of making his own adaptable stand known to
them.
I had taken my decision, silently. I would not pick a fight with them; I would not
give them the pleasure of having to use more of their new-found stamina, simply
because for me to remain a day longer would put the workers in a miserable
embarrassment.
But I said nothing of this to the group of Aurovilians. I only stated that I would see
what I would do.
They had to leave and move on to the rest of their round; they went over to the
workshops, to “explain” to the workers there their intentions, and the goodwill and
harmony which would soon be established, and how they would be taken care of…
This was my last day at Matrimandir.
There was nothing for me to take away; everything was in order. There was
nothing for me to hand over: all registers and records were there, open, accessible,
and updated.
I came home. It was evening.
Pnina was there. She had been visiting from Benares, postponing since weeks her
return there, as she felt worried and too concerned to turn away from what was
happening to me.
At night, Manikandan came, to tell me he had also quit.
Arjun would not let go; for two or three weeks he made it a point not to make it too
easy for them; I understood, but I also did not understand; there was nothing to be
gained in remaining in such a wilful alienation, it would only confirm their own
opinion of him.
I thought for a while that we could all move to the Nursery and make our stand
there by declaring our intent in continuing with the work of the Gardens, and
having our base of operations shifted there. But this was too much to ask from the
others, and it would in any case have been just a sort of war of attrition.
Antagonism corrodes when it is lived day after day with no respite.
From the next morning on I directed all my energies on cleaning and tending the
garden at “Sincerity”; it had been for too long that I had not had the time for it,