My dear Father, I have received your note of Sunday last in due time but it had tortures along with it to pull down my heart. Did I give you any offence in any of my letters that you prevent me from stopping any religious discussions. I cannot describe the dreadful agony I am feeling on that account. The cholera which has not as yet allowed me to get up from my bed has not brought on such depression in me as [that] letter of yours. There is [one thing] in that letter that has hurt me [...] of the postscript of your note. All the world has become bitter and sad to me, everything has assumed a gloomy spectacle. I do not know how I am to console myself. I knew before and now find by experience that misfortunes never come single. Oft how many different things have combined to break down the sinful and impious heart of mine. Constant tears are become my only companion. Dearest Father have I no one to wipe away the tears of my eyes with even the border of sympathy. I am doomed to suffer and to be tried by misfortunes. The cholera has given [me a] deadly blow but your [letter] a worse one. Oft do dear Father relieve my heart by a condescending eye of forgiveness. Your poor son is suffering and have pity upon his soul and forgive him from the very bottom of your heart. Every now and then I ask forgiveness of my God for my trespasses against you but meet with no consolation. Oft do relieve my soul dearest Father. I again repeat for God’s sake forgive my soul....

I am now passing my days in sadness and confinement. I have not sufficient strength to go out and divert my attention from the thousand and one vultures preying on my mind.

Kindly give my pronams to mother and others. My love to my friends there. As also to Hem, Jogin, Shukumaree and Joteen.

Shurnolota gives her pronams to you.

I remain with love

Your ever affn son

Krishna Dhun

 

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