journal d'une transition

1391

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,