House Opposite
对面的屋子
by P. K. Narayan
纳拉扬 著
丁立福 译
The hermit invariably shuddered when he looked out of his window. The house across the street was occupied by a shameless woman. Late in the evening, men kept coming and knocking on her door—afternoons, too, if there was a festival or holiday. Sometimes they lounged on the pyol of her house, smoking, chewing tobacco, and spitting into the gutter—committing all the sins of the world, according to the hermit who was striving to pursue a life of austerity, forswearing family, possessions, and all the comforts of life. He found this single-room tenement with a couple of coconut trees and a well at the backyard adequate, and the narrow street swarmed with children: sometimes he called in the children, seated them around, and taught them simple moral lessons and sacred verse. On the walls he had nailed a few pictures of gods cut out of old calendars, and made the children prostrate themselves in front of them before sending them away with a piece of sugar candy each.
每当望向窗外修行者总是不寒而栗。街对面的屋子里住着一个不要脸的女人。入夜，总有男人不断地前来敲门――如果碰上节假日的话，就是下午也来。有时，他们会在她家门口晃悠，抽着香烟、嚼着烟草、然后就吐进水沟里；在修行者来看来真是无恶不作，他自己可正在努力修行，已然放弃家庭、财产及一切生活享乐。他对这间租来的屋子心满意足，后院还带有一口水井和几棵椰子树，小街上满是孩童：有时他会把这些小孩召唤进来，让他们坐成一圈，进行简单的道德说教、还教些宗教诗歌。他在墙上钉了几幅从旧日历上裁下来的神像，让孩子们在这些神像前顶礼膜拜，在他们离开前还会给每人发块糖果。
His daily life followed an unvarying pattern. Birdlike, he retired at dusk, lying on the bare floor with a wooden block under his head like a pillow. He woke up at four, ahead of the rooster at the street corner, bathed at the well, and sat down on a piece of deerskin to meditate. Later he lit the charcoal stove and baked a few chapattis for breakfast and lunch and cooked certain restricted vegetables and greens, avoiding potato, onion, okra, and such as might stimulate the baser impulses.
他每天的生活模式一成不变。他像鸟一样日落而归，卧躺在空荡荡的地板上，头下放块木板当枕头。清晨四点，街头拐角处的公鸡打鸣前他就醒来，在井边冲个澡，然后在一张鹿皮垫上坐下开始冥想。稍后，他便点燃木炭炉，烤几个薄煎饼兼作早餐和午饭，还煮些限定的蔬菜及绿色植物，但忌讳土豆、洋葱、秋葵以及这类可激发本能反应的食物。
Even in the deepest state of meditation, he could not help hearing the creaking of the door across the street when a client left after a night of debauchery. He rigorously suppressed all the cravings of the palate, and punished his body in a dozen ways. If you asked him why, he would have been at a loss to explain. He was the antithesis of the athlete who flexed his muscles and watched his expanding chest before a mirror. Our hermit, on the contrary, kept a minute check of his emaciation and felt a peculiar thrill out of such an achievement. He was only following without questioning his ancient guru's instructions, and hoped thus to attain spiritual liberation.
即便是在冥想达到最深境界时，他也总不禁会听到街对面的门咯吱作响，那是“客人”放荡一宿之后要走了。他残忍地压制着感觉欲望，并想方设法来禁锢自己的身体需求。如果你问及原因，他自己也会茫然、不知作何解释。他是运动员的反例，运动员会在镜前舒展肌肉并欣赏扩大的胸肌；而我们的这位修行者却正好相反，会花上时间来审视自己的憔悴，对自己所取得的这一成就感到莫名的兴奋。他只是在毫无异议地遵循着古代精神导师的指引，并希望藉此获得精神上的解脱。
One afternoon, opening the window to sweep the dust on the sill, he noticed her standing on her doorstep, watching the street. His temples throbbed with the rush of blood. He studied her person—chiseled features, but sunk in fatty folds. She possessed, however, a seductive outline; her forearms were cushionlike and perhaps the feel of those encircling arms attracted men. His gaze, once it had begun to hover about her body, would not return to its anchor—which would normally be the tip of one's nose, as enjoined by his guru and the yoga shastras.
一天下午，他开窗打扫窗台上的灰尘时，注意到了那个女人正站在她家门前台阶上望着大街。他猛地感到两侧太阳穴血液流动突然加剧，于是打量起她的容貌来――五官的轮廓鲜明，但体表已有赘肉。然而，她身材诱人；前臂如垫，也许吸引男人们的就是被这双手臂环抱的感觉。他的眼神，一旦盘落在她的身上，就再也回不到原本固有的地方――通常情况下将是一个人自己的鼻尖，自己的精神导师和瑜珈印度教圣典就是这么嘱咐的。
Her hips were large, thighs stout like banana stalks, on the whole a mattresslike creature on which a patron could loll all night without a scrap of covering—”Awful monster! Personification of evil.” He felt suddenly angry. Why on earth should that creature stand there and ruin his tapas: all the merit he had so laboriously acquired was draining away like water through a sieve. Difficult to say whether it was those monstrous arms and breasts or thighs which tempted and ruined men. . .He hissed under his breath, “Get in, you devil, don't stand there!” She abruptly turned round and went in, shutting the door behind her. He felt triumphant, although his command and her compliance were coincidental. He bolted the window tight and retreated to the farthest corner of the room, settled down on the deerskin, and kept repeating, “Om, Om, Rama, Jayarama”: the sound “Rama” had a potency all its own—and was reputed to check wandering thoughts and distractions. He had a profound knowledge of mantras and their efficacy. “Sri Rama. . . ,” he repeated, but it was like a dilute and weak medicine for high fever. It didn't work. “Sri Rama, Jayarama. . . ,” he repeated with a desperate fervor, but the effect lasted not even a second.
她臀部丰盈，大腿就像香蕉树一样结实，整个就是床垫般的尤物；主顾整夜懒洋洋地卧躺在上面、一丝不挂地――“可怕的怪物、罪恶的化身！”他突然感到愤怒。究竟那个尤物为什么要站在那、糟蹋自己的苦行生活：自己艰苦修行所得之“正果”就像流水经过筛隙一样正在渐渐流失。很难说，是那魔鬼般的双臂、乳房还是大腿蛊惑了男人，并毁掉了男人…… 他低声嘘道：“滚进去！你这个恶魔，别站在那!”突然间，那女子竟转身进屋并关上了门。他欣喜若狂，尽管他的呵斥和她的顺从纯属巧合。他关紧窗户，退至屋子最远的一处角落，在鹿皮垫上坐定，接着反复地说道：“摩，摩，罗摩，佳雅罗摩”――“罗摩”的发音本身就有魔力——都说能驱除胡思杂念。他熟知这些咒语、深信其功效。“罗摩先生……”他一再重复着，但这就像是用稀释了的弱效药去医治高烧一样，丝毫不起作用。“罗摩先生，佳雅罗摩……” 他反复唱颂，极其虔诚，但效果甚至持续不到一秒钟就没了。
Unnoticed his thoughts strayed, questioning: Who was that fellow in a check shirt and silk upper cloth over his shoulder descending the steps last evening when I went out to the market? Seen him somewhere. . .where? when? . . .ah, he was the big tailor on Market Road. . .with fashionable men and women clustering round him! Master-cutter who was a member of two or three clubs. . .Hobnobbed with officers and businessmen—and this was how he spent his evening, lounging on the human mattress! And yet fashionable persons allowed him to touch them with his measuring tape! Contamination, nothing but contamination; sinful life. He cried out in the lonely room, “Rama! Rama!” as if hailing someone hard of hearing. Presently he realized it was a futile exercise. Rama was a perfect incarnation, of course, but he was mild and gentle until provoked beyond limit, when he would storm and annihilate the evildoer without a trace, even if he was a monster like Ravana. Normally, however, he had forbearance, hence the repetition of his name only resulted in calmness and peace, but the present occasion demanded stern measures. God Siva's mantra should help. Did he not open his Third Eye and reduce the God of Love to ashes, when the latter slyly aimed his arrow at him while he was meditating? Our hermit pictured the god of matted locks and fiery eyes and recited aloud: “Om Namasivaya,” that lonely hall resounding his hoarse voice.
不不知不觉间，他的思绪游荡开来，自问：昨晚我外出赶集的时候，那个穿着格子衬衫和丝绸上衣、正迈下台阶的家伙是谁呢？在什么地方见过……何时何地呢？……哈，他就是市场路大名鼎鼎的那个裁缝……讲究时尚的男男女女追捧在他的周围。身为两三个俱乐部成员的这位裁缝大师…… 和达官贵人和商界名流交往甚密――这就是他如何欢度夜晚的，懒洋洋地躺在“人垫”上！然而，时尚一族们竟然还允许他拿着皮尺在她们身上东比西量？糟蹋，简直就是糟蹋；罪孽深重的人生！他在孤寂的屋子里大声叫喊“罗摩！罗摩！”就像在和聋子打招呼。很快他就意识到这是在做无用功。当然，罗摩是完美的化身；但是被激怒到极限时，他便大发雷霆并彻底扫除邪恶势力，仿佛自己是个拉瓦纳这样的妖魔，那时他也就不再温和、慈祥。然而，通常情况下，他有自制力，因此反复吟颂他的名字就会使人冷静、安宁下来，但是眼下的情况需要采取严厉的措施。湿婆神的咒语应该有用。当爱神神秘地把箭瞄准了冥想中的修行者时，难道湿婆神他就没有睁开自己的第三只眼把爱神烧成灰烬吗？我们的修行者将这位神想象成了身挂锁链、怒目圆睁的样子，并大声地反复诵念：“摩，纳玛湿婆娅!”孤零零的屋子里回荡着他那嘶哑的声音。
His rambling, unwholesome thoughts were halted for a while, but presently regained their vigor and raced after the woman. She opened her door at least six times on an evening. Did she sleep with them all together at one time? He paused to laugh at this notion, but also realized that his meditation on the austere god was gone. He banged his fist on his temples, which pained put improved his concentration. “Om Namasivaya. . .” Part of his mind noted the creaking of the door of the opposite house. She was a serpent in whose coils everyone was caught and destroyed—old and young and the middle-aged, tailors and students (he had noticed a couple of days ago a young B. Sc. student from Albert Mission Hostel at her door), lawyers and magistrates (why not?) . . .No wonder the world was getting overpopulated—with such pressure at the elemental urge within every individual! O God Siva, this woman must be eliminated. He would confront her some day and tell her to get out. He would tell her, “Oh, sinful wretch, who is spreading disease and filth like an open sewer: think of the contamination you have spread around—from middle-aged tailor to B.Sc. student. You are out to destroy mankind. Repent your sins, shave your head, cover your amply loins with sackcloth, sit at the temple gate and beg or drawn yourself in Sarayu after praying for a cleaner life at least in the next birth. . .”
他的那些漫无边际、不登大雅之堂的想法中断了一会儿，但是不久它们又重新活跃起来，继续追随着那个女人。她每晚至少开六次门。她同时和他们一起入睡？他顿了一下，为自己的这个想法感到好笑，不过他也意识到自己专注于俭朴之神的冥想已经一去不返了。他用拳头重击太阳穴，痛但有助于他集中精神。“摩，纳玛湿婆娅……”他的部分心思又转移到了对面屋子开门的吱吱声。她真是条毒蛇，任何人都可以被盘绕住并被摧毁――老少及中年人，裁缝和学生（几天前他曾看到一位来自艾伯特•密升客栈的年轻的理科学生出现在她家门口），律师及地方官员（为何不可？）……无怪乎这个世界的人口变得过密――每个人内心的原始冲动都这么强烈！噢，湿婆神，这个女人必须消失!总有一天他要当面市诘问她，并叫她滚得远远的。他将告诉她：“哦，罪孽的不幸儿，你像盖被打开的阴沟一样正在散播疾病和淫秽：想想你曾糟蹋过多少人啊――从中年裁缝到年轻的理科学生。你来到世间就是要毁灭整个人类。忏悔你的罪孽，剃去你的头发，用麻袋布遮盖住你丰盈的下体，坐在寺庙门前祈祷，或者祈求至少来世能过上较为干净一些的生活之后自己就投入萨拉逾河去……”
Thus went his dialogue, the thought of the woman never leaving his mind, during all the wretched, ill-spent night; he lay tossing on the bare floor. He rose before dawn, his mind made up. He would clear out immediately, cross Nallappa's Grove, and reach the other side of the river. He did not need a permanent roof: he would drift and rest in any temple or mantap or in the shade of a banyan tree: he collected an ancient tale he had heard from his guru long ago. . .A harlot was sent to heaven when she died, while her detractor, a self-righteous reformer, found himself in hell. It was explained that while the harlot sinned only with her body, her detractor was corrupt mentally, as he was obsessed with the harlot and her activities, and could meditate on nothing else.
他一直这么说着，一刻也没有不想那个女人，整个可怜的夜晚他是虚度了；躺在空荡荡的地板上辗转反侧。拂晓前他起床并下定决心：他要马上离开这里，穿过纳拉帕圣林，到河的对岸去。他不再需要永久的住所，他将漂游下去，休憩于庙堂之间抑或菩提树下：他想起很久以前从导师那听来的一个古老传说…… 妓女死后就被送往天堂，而诋毁她的人即伪善的革新者，却发现自己下了地狱。缘由是：妓女仅仅是肉体存在罪恶，而诋毁者却心灵堕落，因为他脑际萦绕的尽是妓女和她的举止，冥想方面就无所事事了。
Our hermit packed his wicker box with his sparse possessions—a god's image in copper, a rosary, the deerskin, and a little brass bowl. Carrying his box in one hand, he stepped out of the house, closing the door gently behind him. In the dim hour of the dusk, shadowy figures were moving—a milkman driving his cow ahead, laborers bearing crowbars and spades, women with baskets on their way to the market. While he paused to take a final look at the shelter he was abandoning, he heard a plaintive cry, “Swamiji,” from the opposite house, and saw the woman approach him with a tray, heaped with fruits and flowers. She placed it at his feet and said in a low reverential whisper: “Please accept my offering. This is a day of remembrance of my mother. On this day I pray and seek a saint's blessing. Forgive me. . .” All the lines he had rehearsed for a confrontation deserted him at this moment; looking at her flabby figure, the dark rings under her eyes, he felt pity. As she bent down to prostrate, he noticed that her hair was indifferently dyed and that the parting in the middle widened into a bald patch over which a string of jasmine dangled loosely. He touched her tray with the tip of his finger as a token of acceptance, and went down the street without a word.
我们的修行者打理起自己的柳条箱，装入少得可怜的几件家当——一枚铜制神像、一串念珠、那块鹿皮垫及一个小小的铜碗。他单手拎着箱子走出屋子，将身后的门轻轻掩上。在黄昏的余辉里，朦胧的人影正在走动――牛奶工吆喝着自己的奶牛，工人们肩扛着铁撬和铁铲，妇女们手拿着篮子去赶集。就在他驻足想最后望一眼自己将要离开的屋子时，他听见了一声哀号“长老阁下”，声音来自对面的屋子，那个女人正朝自己起来，手里拿着一个盘子----一个堆得高高的盘子，上面堆满了水果和鲜花。她把盘子放到他的脚边恭敬地低声说道：“求您收下吧。今天是祭奠我妈妈的日子。每到这个日子我都要祈祷，希望得到圣人的祝福。请原凉……”他先前复述过多次的话语此时此刻跑得不见了踪影；看着他发胖而松弛的身材，双眼下边深黑色的眼袋，他的怜悯之情油然而生。当她伏身跪拜时，他看到她的头发随意地染过，中间的分缝秃成一块，上方扎着一串茉莉，松散地摇晃着。他用指尖点了一下她的盘子以示同意，然后就默默地走向街道的尽头!