The man who dreams himself so great
And his importance of such weight
Will learn in the school of tribulation
The folly of his expectation

W. Cowper - The Retired Cat

Bikram Singh became zamindar of Kanakpur at the young age of twenty-four. His mother, a pious lady, had taught him religion and spirituality and he was favourably inclined towards these even in his teens. He wanted to be celibate throughout his life but this was opposed by his relatives. In due course, he married a noble lady named Shilpa. Both of them wanted a son and heir.

Their mansion was befitting their status, walled in, and having outhouses for servants inside the vast compound. Shithila, the trusted maid of Shilpa was accommodated in one of these outhouses just inside the main gate. She was full of life, earthy and clever in her own way.

Bikram Singh was known for his efficient management of the estate, his charity and self-discipline. He treated those who depended on him kindly and they in turn adored him.

Deeply inspired by Buddha, Mahavira and the one thousand Bodhisattvas and illuminated souls, he dreamt of joining their fold thus becoming immortal. He wanted to do severe penances and austerities and to have Nature at his feet by the powers of his self-control.

Shilpa, on the other hand, was the very epitome of Indian womanhood, always busy supervising the household, looking after the comforts of her husband and ever punctual in her daily prayers.

Bikram Singh decided one night, when his wife was asleep, to renounce this world and go in search of Truth - to attain nirvana. He donned the ochre robes, took the severe vows of renunciation and quietly slipped out of the main door, closing it permanently behind him.

It was a full moon night and the sky was still. Just when he approached the main gate, a shrill voice shattered the silence - "You look stunning in these robes babuji!" exclaimed Shithila innocently.

He told her he was very busy and must reach a far-off place before dawn.

"I have some fresh sugarcane juice which I made in the evening. Please take some before you go on the long journey," she smiled.

In the moonlight he observed the sheen of her hair, her smooth complexion glistening with droplets of sweat, her easy and open manner, her uninhibited attitude. These suddenly attracted him. She was heaven's gift to the Earth, he thought, a woman evolved from a thousand summers and monsoons. Perhaps the fact that she was so much different from his sedate wife was the deciding factor, for, variety was indeed spicy. Shithila led him inside her room and he followed like a lamb.

When Bikram Singh came out, alone, after a while, he was full of remorse and shame. He had sullied the sanctity of the ochre robe and broken the sacred vows he had just taken. He could not go out and face the world nor could he open the door he had permanently closed and enter his own mansion.

He ran like a man possessed inside the compound and on locating the well, jumped into it. His search for Truth ended there.

Bikram Singh had failed in his attempt to walk on the razor's edge.