The Mother's comments on martyrs connected to the Alipore Bomb Case - Khudiram, Satyen, Kanailal & others: Bagha Jatin, Bhagat Singh, Azad, Subhas etc.
On India
THEME/S
..For what are these men suffering? What was the hope that stirred them to face all rather than be unworthy of the light that had dawned in their hearts? No petty object fired their soul, no small or partial relief was the hope in which they were strong. It was the star of Swaraj that shone upon them from the darkness of the night into which they willingly departed, it is the light of Swaraj which creates a glory of effulgence in the squalid surroundings of the jail and makes each hour of enforced labour a sacrament and an offering on the most sacred of earthly altars. Today let us remember these brothers of ours even as yesterday was devoted to the joy of welcoming our beloved leader back to our midst. Today let us recall what it is that they expect from us; forgetting for a while our selfish preoccupations, our little fears, our petty ambitions, let us identify ourselves in heart with these nobler spirits whom it is our privilege to call fellow-countrymen, and ask ourselves whether we are really working to bring about the great ideal for which they have immolated themselves. Who is there who can really say that his work is worthy of these heroic martyrs? Prometheus chained to the rock and gnawed by the vulture's beak endured in the strong hope of man's final deliverance from the tyrant powers of the middle-heaven who sought to keep him from his divine destiny; but the human race for whom he suffered forgot Prometheus, forgot the dazzling hope to which his life had pointed them and, involved in petty cares and mean ambitions, allowed their champion to suffer in vain and their destiny to call them to no purpose. We, like the woman whom Christ censured, the careful, prudent woman of the world, are busied with many things, but forget the one thing needful. We are waiting to see whether the Congress will be revived or not, or we are watching the progress of Swadeshi with self-satisfaction, or we are anxious for this or that National School, while the fight for Swaraj seems to have ceased or passed away from us into worthier hands. Madras has taken up the herol out of our hands, and today it is over Tuticorin that the gods of the Mahabharata hover in their aerial cars watching the chances of the fight which is to bring back the glorious days of old. Gallant Chidambaram, brave Padmanabha, intrepid Shiva defying the threats of exile and imprisonment, fighting for the masses, for the nation, for the preparation of Swaraj, these are now in the forefront, the men of the future, the bearers of the standard. The spirit of active heroism and self-immolation has travelled southward. In Bengal the spirit of passive endurance is all that seems to remain and the bold initiative, the fiery spirit that panted to advance is dead or sleeping. "Work, there is no need to aspire; labour for small things and the great will come in some future generation", is the spirit which seems to be in the ascendant. But the voices of the martyrs from their cells cry to us in a different key, "Work, but aspire, so that your work may be true to the call you have heard and which we have obeyed; labour for great things first and the small will come of themselves. Cherish the might of the spirit, the nobility of the ideal, the grandeur of the dream; the spirit will create the material it needs, the ideal will bring the real to its body and self-expression, the dream is the stuff out of which the waking world will be created. It was the strength of the spirit which stood with us before the alien tribunal, it was the force of the ideal which led us to the altar of sacrifice, it is the splendour of the dream which supports us through the dreary months and years of our martyrdom. For these are the truth and the divinity within the movement."
'Bande Mataram' > 11-Mar-1908
'Karmayogin' > Pg. 87
...The idea creates its martyrs. And in martyrdom there is an incalculable spiritual magnetism which works miracles. A whole nation, a whole world catches the fire which burned in a few hearts; the soil which has drunk the blood of the martyr imbibes with it a sort of divine madness which it breathes into the heart of all its children, until there is but one overmastering idea, one imperishable resolution in the minds of all beside which all other hopes and interests fade into insignificance and until it is fulfilled, there can be no peace or rest for the land or its rulers. It is at this moment that the idea begins to create its heroes and fighters, whose numbers and courage defeat only multiplies and confirms until the idea militant has become the idea triumphant...
'Bande Mataram' > 8-Jun-1907
...This movement in Bengal, this movement of Nationalism is not guided by any self-interest, not at the heart of it. Whatever there may be in some minds, it is not, at the heart of it, a political self-interest that we are pursuing. It is a religion which we are trying to live. It is a religion by which we are trying to realise God in the nation, in our fellow-countrymen. We are trying to realise Him in the three hundred millions of our people. We are trying, some of us consciously, some of us unconsciously, we are trying to live not for our own interests, but to work and to die for others. When a young worker in Bengal has to go to jail, when he is asked to suffer, he does not feel any pang in that suffering, he does not fear suffering. He goes forward with joy. He says, The hour of my consecration has come, and I have to thank God now that the time for laying myself on His altar has arrived and that I have been chosen to suffer for the good of my countrymen. This is the hour of my greatest joy and the fulfilment of my life...
'Bande Mataram' > 19-Jan-1908
...A band of men is needed who can give up everything for their country, whose sole thought and occupation shall be the stimulation of the movement by whatever means the moment suggests or opportunity allows. If such a band can be got together, then only will real work as distinct from the work of preparation be possible; for the salvation of a country cannot be the work of our leisure moments, the product of our superfluous energy or the result of a selfish life in which the country comes in only for the leavings. Devoted servants of India are needed who will ask for no reward, no ease, no superfluities, but only their bare maintenance and a roof over their heads to enable them to work for her. This attitude of utter self-abandonment is the first condition of success...
'Bande Mataram' > 29-Apr-1908
The whole of Sunday was passed in the Lock-up. There was a staircase in front of my room. In the morning I found a few young lads coming down the stairs…. Later I came to know that these were the lads from the Manicktala gardens. After a month in jail I came to know them.
*
I greatly enjoyed the laughter and the pleasantries of the accused lads, else the time spent at the court appeared wholly annoying.
The inexperienced spectators might have thought that these laughter-loving young lads must be some group of daredevil famous warriors. Who knows how much courage and strength resided in their bodies so that even with their empty hands they might be able to break through the impassive cordon of a hundred policeman and Tommies.
Let me speak about the companions of my days of trouble, the boys who had been accused along with me. Watching their behaviour in the court room I could really feel that a new age had dawned, a new type of children had begun to live on the Mother’s lap.
One could see a strange spectacle: while the trial was going on, and the fate of thirty or forty accused persons was being wrangled over, whose result might be hanging or transportation for life, some of these accused persons without as much as glancing at what was happening around them, were absorbed in reading novels of Bankim Chandra, Vivekananda’s Raja Yoga or Science of Religions or European Philosophy.
Looking at these lads… one felt as if the liberal, daring, puissant men of an earlier age with a different training had come back to India. That fearless and innocent look in their eyes, the words breathing power, their carefree delighted laughter, even in the midst of great danger the undaunted courage, cheerfulness of mind, absence of despair, or grief, all this was a symptom not of the inert Indians of those days, but of a new age, a new race and a new stir.
Tales of Prison Life(Translated from Original in Bengali)
Meanwhile He had brought me out of solitude and placed me among those who had been accused along with me…. I found myself among these young men and in many of them I discovered a mighty courage, a power of self-effacement in comparison with which I was simply nothing. I saw one or two who were not only superior to me in force and character, very many were that — but in the promise of that intellectual ability on which I prided myself. He said to me, "This is the young generation, the new and mighty nation that is arising at my command, they are greater than yourself. What have you to fear? If you stood aside or slept, the work would still be done. If you were cast aside tomorrow, here are the young men who will take up your work and do it more mightily than you have ever done. You have only got some strength from me to speak a word to this nation which will help to raise it."
Uttarpara Speech
For the past few years in India one can see as if a new race is being created in the midst of the old that was dominated by the gross influences. The earlier children of Mother India were born in an irreligious atmosphere or one of religious decline and receiving an education in keeping with that, they had grown short-lived, small, selfish and narrow in spirit. Many powerful great souls were born among these people and it is they who have saved the race in its hour of great peril. But without doing work commensurate with their energy and genius, they have only created a field for the future greatness and the marvellous activity that awaits this race. It is because of their good deeds that the rays of the new dawn are brightening up all the corners. These new children of Mother India, instead of getting the qualities of their parents, have grown bold, full of power, high- souled, self-sacrificing, inspired by the high ideals of helping others and doing good to the country. That is why, instead of being obedient to their parents, the young men go their own way, there is a difference between the old and the young, and in deciding a course of activity there is a conflict between the two. The old are trying to keep these youth, born of divine emanations, the pioneers of a golden age, confined to the old, selfish and narrow ways, without understanding they are trying to perpetuate the Age of Iron. The youth are sparks born of the Great Energy, Mahāsakti, eager to build the new by destroying the old, they are unable to be obedient or submit to the laws of respect for the parent God alone can remedy this evil. But the will of the Great Energy cannot be in vain, the new generation will not leave without fulfilling the purpose for which they have come. In the midst of the new the influence of the old lingers on. Because of the fault of inferior heredity and an āsuric education many black sheep have also taken birth; and those who have been ordained to inaugurate the new age are unable to manifest their inherent force and strength. Among the youth is a marvellous sign of manifesting the age of gold, a religious bent of mind and in the hearts of many, a longing for yoga and half-expressed yogic powers.
Ashok Nandi, accused in the Alipore Bomb Conspiracy Case, belongs to this second category. Those who know him would hardly believe that he might be involved in any conspiracy. He had been sentenced on slander and rather incredible evidence. He was not overwhelmed, like the other young people, by a strong desire to serve the national cause. In intellect, character and life he was wholly a yogi and devotee, he had none of the qualities of a man of the world. His grandfather was a realised Tantric yogi (siddha), his father too was known to have acquired powers through the pursuit of yoga. The rare birth in a family of yogis of which the Gita speaks, that had been his good fortune. Signs of his inherent yogic powers had shown themselves intermittently even at a tender age. Long before his arrest he had come to know that he was destined to die while young, hence his mind did not take to schooling or the preliminaries of leading a worldly life, yet on his father’s advice, by ignoring the ‘failure’ (asiddhi) of which he had earlier intelligence, he was pursuing what he considered to be his duty and had taken to the path of yoga. It was then that he was suddenly arrested. At this danger, which was the result of his own action, Ashok remained unperturbed and in the jail he devoted his entire energies to the pursuit of yoga. Many of the accused in the case had adopted this path, and though not foremost he was one among these. In love and devotion he was inferior to none. His generous character, sober devotion and loving heart charmed every one. At the time of Gossain’s murder he was ailing in the hospital. Before regaining his health he began to fall ill frequently during his solitary confinement. Even when sick he had to stay during the chilly nights in a room that was open on all sides. Because of this he developed tuberculosis and then, when there was no chance of his surviving, sentenced to the heaviest punishment, he had been kept once again in that death-cell. Thanks to the petition of the barrister Chittaranjan Das arrangements were made to remove him to the hospital, but he was not given bail. In the end, due to the Governor’s generosity, he was allowed to die in his own home, looked after by his own people. Before he could be freed through appeal God released him from the body’s prison. Towards the end Ashok’s yogic powers developed considerably, on the day of his passing away, overwhelmed by the power of the Lord as Vishnu, ‘distributing’ the holy, salvation-inducing Name and spiritual advice he gave up the body with the Name on his lips. Ashok Nandi had been born to work out the consequences due to a previous incarnation, hence all this misery and his untimely death. The energy needed to usher in the Age of God did not descend in him, but he has shown a brilliant example of the natural yogic powers. Men of good deeds spend a little time in this world to work out their previous sins, then, freed from all sins, they leave the defective body and, assuming another body, they come to express their inherent energies and to do good to men and creatures.
Writings in Bengali > New Birth(Translated from Original in Bengali)
Let me speak of two educated young men. These were the two Kavirajs of Harrison Road, Nagendranath and Dharani.[2] The manner in which, quietly and contentedly, they too suffered this sudden mishap, this unjust punishment, was astounding. I could never find in them the slightest anger or censure or annoyance over those for whose fault they had to pass their youth in a hellish prison. They were devoid of the glory of modern education, a knowledge of western languages and familiarity with western learning. The mother-tongue was their only stay, but among the English-educated group I have found few men of comparable calibre. Instead of complaining to either man or God, both of them had accepted the punishment with a smile. Both brothers were sādhaks but their natures were different. Nagendra was steady, grave, intelligent. He was very fond of godly conversation and religious topics. When we had been kept in solitary confinement the jail authorities had permitted us, at the end of the day’s labour, to read books. Nagendra who had asked for the Gita had been given the Bible instead. In the witness box he would tell me of his feelings on reading the Bible. Nagendra hadn’t read the Gita but I noticed with surprise that instead of speaking about the Bible he was expressing the inner sense of the Gita’s verse — once in a while it even appeared as if the sublime and divine statements of Krishna at Kurukshetra were coming out of the same lotus lips of Vasudeva in the Alipore dock. Without reading the Gita to be able to realise in the Bible the spirit of equality, renunciation of the desire for fruit, to see the Divine in all things, etc., is the index of a not negligible inner life or spiritual capacity, sādhanā. Dharani was not as intelligent as Nagendra, but he was obedient and tender by nature, temperamentally a devotee. He was always wrapt up in the idea of Divine Motherhood, and looking at the Grace that shone on his face, his innocent laughter and gentle devotional attitude it was hard to realise that we were confined in a jail. Knowing these men, who can say that the Bengali is low and despicable? This power, this manhood, this sacred fire is only hidden amidst the ashes.
They are both innocent. Imprisoned without any fault of their own, by their own qualities or by virtue of their training they had been able to reject the supremacy of external joys and sorrows and succeeded in preserving the freedom of their inner life.
Writings in Bengali > Prison & Freedom(Translated from Original in Bengali)
The inner freedom… was a natural quality of my companions. During the days we were lodged together in a big verandah, I observed with great attention their conduct and psychological dispositions. Apart from two of them, I never saw even a trace of fear in the face or speech of anyone. Almost all were young men, many mere boys. Even strong-minded people were likely to be very upset at the thought of the dire punishment to be given to the accused if found guilty. But these young men did not really hope to be acquitted at the trial. Especially, on observing the frightful paraphernalia of witnesses and written evidence at the court, people not versed in law would have easily got the idea that even the innocent could not find a way of escape from that net. Yet instead of fear or despondency on their faces there were only cheerfulness, the smile of simplicity and, forgetting their own danger, discussion about their country and religion. A small library grew up as everyone in our ward had a few books with him. Most books in the library were religious — the Gita, the Upanishads, the works of Vivekananda, the life and conversations of Ramakrishna, the Puranas, hymns, spiritual songs, etc. Among other volumes were the works of Bankim, patriotic songs, books on European philosophy, history and literature. A few of the men practised spiritual disciplines in the morning, some used to read books, still others to chat quietly. Occasionally there were roars of laughter in the peaceful atmosphere of the morning. If the court was not in session, some slept, a few played games — it might be anything, nobody was attached to a particular one. On some days, a quiet game with people sitting in a circle, on others, running and jumping; there was football for a few days, though the ball was made of a unique material; blind man’s buff was played on some days, on others a number of groups were formed for lessons in ju-jitsu, high and long jumping or for playing draughts. Except a few reserved and elderly people everybody joined in these games at the request of the boys. I observed that even those who were not young had a childlike character. In the evenings there were musical soirees. Only patriotic and religious songs were sung; we used to sit around and hear Ullas, Sachindra, Hemdas, who were accomplished singers; on some evenings, for amusement, Ullaskar sang comic songs or acted, ventriloquised, mimed, or told stories about hemp addicts… Nobody paid any attention to the trial but all passed the days in religious pursuits or in just being gay. This unperturbed disposition is impossible for one used to evil actions; there was not the slightest trace in them of harshness, cruelty, habitual evil-doing or crookedness. Laughter, conversation or play, all was joyful, sinless, full of love.
The result of this freedom of the mind began to show itself soon. The perfect fruit can be obtained only if the spiritual seed is sown in this kind of field. Pointing at some boys Jesus said to his disciples, "Those who are like these boys will attain the Kingdom of God." Knowledge and delight are the signs of Sattwa. They alone have the capacity for Yoga who do not consider misery as misery but are full of joy and cheer in all situations. The rajasic attitude does not get any encouragement in jail and there is nothing there to nourish the tendency to worldly pleasures. Under these circumstances, since there is a dearth of things to which it is used and in which its Rajas can be indulged, the demoniac mind destroys itself like a tiger. There follows what the Western poets call "eating one’s own heart." The Indian mind when in seclusion, though there be external suffering, turns through an eternal attraction to God. This is what happened with us too. A current, I do not know from where, just swept us all. Even people who had never taken God’s name learnt to practise some spiritual discipline and realising the grace of the most Gracious became steeped in joy. Those boys achieved in a few months what Yogis take a long time to attain. Ramakrishna Paramahamsa once said, "What you are seeing now is really nothing — such a flood of spirituality is coming into this land that even boys will attain realisation after three days’ Sadhana." To see these boys was to have no doubt about the truth of this prophecy. They were as it were the manifest precursors of that spiritual flood. The sattwic waves overflowing the prisoners’ docks swept over all, except four or five persons, with great joy. Anyone who has tasted that once cannot forget it nor can he acknowledge any other joy as comparable. This sattwic temperament is indeed the hope of the country. The ease with which brotherliness, self-knowledge and love of God possess the Indian mind and express themselves in action is not possible in the case of any other nation. What is necessary is the renunciation of Tamas, the control of Rajas and the manifestation of Sattwa. This is what is being prepared for India in accordance with God’s secret purpose.
Writings in Bengali > The Aryan Ideal and the Three Gunas(Translated from Original in Bengali)
.. It was an exceptional time in History and they were exceptional people...
Now I know, I remember, this whole experience came after I saw a book that was published quite recently in India, in English, which they entitled The Roll of Honour, and in which there is a photo and a short biography of all those who died in the fight against the British, for India's freedom. There were photos everywhere, lots of them (some were only photos the police took after they had just been killed and were lying on the ground). And it all brought a certain atmosphere: the atmosphere of those disinterested goodwilled people who meet with a tragic fate. It had the same impression on me as the horrors of the Germans during the war over there. These things are obviously under the direct influence of certain adverse forces, but we know that the adverse forces are, so to say, permitted to work—through the sense of horror, in fact—in order to hasten the awakening of consciousness. So then, that experience, which was very strong and was very like the one I had when I saw the photographs of German atrocities in France, put me in contact with the vision of the human, terrestrial, modern error (it's modern: it began these last one thousand years and has become more and more acute in the last hundred years), with the aspiration to counterbalance that: How to do it?... What is to be done?... And the answer: "That's why you have created Auroville."
There is a perception of forces—the forces that act directly in events, material events, which are... illusory and deceptive. For instance, the man who fought for his country's freedom, who has just been assassinated because he is a rebel, and who looks defeated, lying there on the edge of the road—he is the real victor. That's how it is, it clearly shows the kind of relationship between the truth and the expression. Then, if you enter the consciousness in which you perceive the play of forces and see the world in that light, it's very interesting. And that's how, when I was in that state, I was told, clearly shown (it's inexpressible because it isn't with words, but these are facts): "That's why you have created Auroville...."
Mother's Agenda > 21-Sep-1966
In 1967 the Mother spoke with Mona Sarkar, a young disciple and the son of revolutionary Sudhir Sarkar, about the revolutionaries of the Nationalist movement, especially those who were associated with Sri Aurobindo. On this occasion Mona showed the Mother a recently published book, The Roll of Honour, by Kali Charan Ghose, containing photographs and biographical sketches of about one hundred revolutionaries who died in the struggle for India's independence. Mona noted down the conversation from memory.
The Mother: Did you bring the photos of the revolutionaries as I asked you to, last time?
Mona: Yes, Mother. (Mona hands Her the book "The Roll of Honour", containing photographs and information on revolutionaries who died in the struggle for India’s independence.)
The Mother: "The Roll of Honour". They did well to print this quotation over the photograph.
Mona: Yes, Mother. It is a quotation by Lincoln, printed over his photograph.
The Mother: It is very well done. It looks very beautiful and it is a beautiful quotation.[3] Only towards the end, it sounds a little like propaganda — it would have been better if he had put "all turn towards the Divine for guidance…." (The Mother looks at the photographs of several revolutionaries. She looks with much concentration at the photo of one young man who is dead; fully garlanded, he is ready to be taken to the cremation ground for the last rites. The Mother exclaims: ) This one was with Sri Aurobindo!
Mona: Yes, Mother, this is Kanailal Dutt; he was with Sri Aurobindo. It is he who, with the help of Satyen Bose, shot the traitor Naren Goswami in Alipore Jail.
The Mother: It is clearly written on his face that he was with Sri Aurobindo — it is like an aura. His psychic being is burning intensely; it is quite an individualised psychic being. And was he hanged?
Mona: Yes, Mother, both he and Satyen were hanged.
This patriot, Kanai, after he was sentenced to death, put on weight — sixteen pounds — during his last twenty days in jail. And when the sentries came on the last day, they found him sound asleep. They had to call him to wake him up: "Kanai, it is time to go!" Kanai woke up, smiled and followed them. A fellow revolutionary asked him why he was not afraid of death — how he could be so cheerful and even put on weight. He answered, "I have faith in the spirit of the Gita. I shall depart with the name of the Lord on my lips, thinking of Him with whom I wish to be united after death, and I shall be reborn with part of His knowledge and force."
The Mother: It is very true.
Mona: Mother, is it always so? If at the time of death one thinks of what one wants to become in one’s next life, does one become that when one is reborn?
The Mother: Yes, if one thinks that; it is absolutely true…. (The Mother turns the pages of the book and comments: ) These revolutionaries have proved that the realisation of the embodied Motherland is dearer than life itself. That is why there is no sign of worry or grief on their faces. It is wonderful. And this one — was he also with Sri Aurobindo?
Mona: Yes, Mother, this is Khudiram Bose. It is he who with Prafulla Chaki threw a bomb at the magistrate’s carriage. Usually the magistrate travelled in a particular carriage, but unfortunately on that night two ladies were riding home in a similar carriage and they were killed. Prafulla and Khudiram did not know about this mishap. They ran away as soon as the bomb exploded. The police were soon after them. Prafulla was cornered. When he saw that escape was impossible, he told the police officer, who was an Indian, "Are you not ashamed to catch a patriot and become a traitor to the country? But I shall not allow your sinful hands to catch me." So saying, he took out his revolver and shot himself through the mouth.
The Mother: Well said, well said. Yes, what he said was perfectly true.
Mona: And the other one, Khudiram, was hanged.
The Mother: Yes, I understand the story now….
Mona: Mother, there is no photograph of Prafulla Chaki here, the one who shot himself through the mouth. It seems that after his death, the British severed his head from his body and sent it to Calcutta for evidence.
The Mother: Oh, how cruel! To behead a patriot! They did the same thing during the French Revolution. It is horrible….
But look at his eyes — they tell you everything. He looks so innocent and at the same time very happy to sacrifice his life for the country. The fire of patriotism is burning in his eyes. And this one — he too was in the same group?
Mona: Yes, Mother, his name is Ashok Nandi.
The Mother: The aura of Sri Aurobindo is around them all, it is very clear, and their psychic being expresses it…. See this one. Oh, his psychic is very much to the front! He surely belonged to Sri Aurobindo’s group.
Mona: Yes, Mother, he is Satyendranath Bose who went smilingly to the gallows. He killed Naren Goswami, the traitor with the help of Kanai. There are others, too, who sacrificed their lives for the Motherland.
The Mother: It is not sacrifice which is written on their face, it is joyful offering to the Motherland — to Mother India. And they have proved something, they have proved that adoration of the Motherland is dearer than the life itself. They faced all dangers and fought bravely, whatever the cost. Their psychic beings are all individualised. It is an extraordinary group. All those photos I have seen just now have the markings of a hero. Tejen’s father [Jatindranath Mukherjee] has the markings, and others too. Some of them are endowed with almost divine qualities, rarely to be found among men…. (The Mother turns the pages of the book.) And who is this one at the bottom?
Mona: It is Indu Bhushan Roy.
The Mother: He seems to belong to Sri Aurobindo’s group.
Mona: Yes, Mother, he was a daring boy.
The Mother: And was he also killed?
Mona: He hanged himself in jail, Mother.
The Mother: But why?
Mona: Mother, they tortured him so much that he could no longer use his hands. They were so bruised and full of blisters that he could not even eat. Still he was forced to continue with hard labour, for which he had to use his hands. When he pleaded with the jail authorities, they did not listen. In revolt he hanged himself in his cell.
The Mother: Oh, that’s how they were treated!
Mona: Yes, Mother….
(The Mother turns the pages and looks at other photos.)
The Mother: Oh, this one belongs to His group?
Mona: Yes, Mother. He is Sushil Sen, the brother of Biren Sen who is here in the Ashram.
The Mother: Biren Sen?
Mona: Yes, Mother, he is here, he came a few years back.
The Mother: I don’t know, I don’t remember. If I see him now I will recognise.
Mona: Nolini-da surely spoke to you about him.
The Mother: Maybe, but I don’t quite remember his face.
Mona: Mother, he too was sent to the Andamans like my father. And he too was mercilessly tortured like the others.
The Mother: Oh, I didn’t know.
Mona: Mother, he speaks very little. He is short, about this height (gesture). He looks so quiet and innocent, but he was very courageous and bold. He was in the same group. I think he was the youngest.
The Mother: It is fortunate that he is a quiet man. In silence one finds the greatest power.
Mona: Yes, Mother, yes. And the sadness we see on his face expresses the torture he had to undergo.
The Mother: Yes, he has a strong character. There are many like him here who talk very little but work hard and have a very strong determination.
Mona: Mother, this is his brother, Sushil. Even as a boy he was considered a real patriot. Once it so happened that a police officer, an Englishman, banned a meeting at which a famous Swadeshi leader was to address the people. So Sushil went up to the officer and hit him on the head with a stick because he had banned the meeting. The poor boy was caught at once and ordered to be whipped fifteen times as punishment. A policeman with a big heavy whip started to hit the boy, but he would not be cowed down. Each time he was whipped he shouted aloud "Bande Mataram" and the whole crowd joined in with him, although the slogan was banned. The boy was ordered to keep silent, but he did not listen. It was a pathetic sight — the boy was bleeding, his back was full of scars, chunks of flesh were coming off, but even when the boy fell unconscious they went on beating him. [Sushil Sen's Caning]
The Mother: Oh, they had the heart to do such a thing? It’s unbelievable. They are worse than barbarians!
Mona: Mother, no one can imagine how much the Swadeshi prisoners were tortured in the Andamans.
The Mother: The Andamans — that is where your father was sent?
Mona: Yes, Mother.
The Mother: I have heard a little about it. Well, I would like to see this man. What is his name?
Mona: Biren Sen, Mother.
The Mother: All right. There is no hurry. Let him come on his birthday….
These revolutionaries are exceptional. I did not know that Sri Aurobindo had such people around him. Their dedication, their power of endurance and their self-sacrifice were really extraordinary.
Mona: Yes, Mother, they suffered a lot.
The Mother: Yes, one can see that very clearly. It is written on their faces — but without any anxiety, without any regret as to what happened. They surrendered themselves joyfully to the Motherland.
Mona: Mother, Sri Aurobindo wrote that many of his companions in jail were remarkable spirits — noble, brave and patriotic. He even said that they were greater than himself! Of course, he said this out of modesty and humility, but certainly he saw in them a very luminous flame.
The Mother (laughing): Yes, there were people around Him who had individualised psychic beings….
I am sure that the movement Sri Aurobindo initiated in order to free India made such people spring forth, people for whom to live for the Motherland was the only life worth living. What self-abnegation and self-effacement! It is quite obvious that their love for the Motherland was the outcome of His patriotic speeches. His words inspired them to sacrifice their lives for the glory of India. It is the regeneration of India for which He worked. He shook the very foundation of tamas in which the nation had buried itself, resigning itself to its fate. Those speeches delivered by Sri Aurobindo would move any man to rise and fight for the country. How powerful and stimulating they are! He taught them how to worship the Motherland. And you see how these patriots repeat His words… I am happy you showed me these photographs. Now I know those who were around Sri Aurobindo. (The Mother turns the pages. As soon as her eyes fall on a photo of Tarini Prasanna Majumdar, she exclaims enthusiastically.) Oh, yes, it’s him, yes, yes, I recognize him, his eyes… yes, it’s him… I see him everyday. What’s his name?
Mona: Tarini Prasanna Majumdar, Mother.
The Mother: Tarini Prasanna Majumdar. When did he pass away?
Mona: On the 15th June 1918, Mother.
The Mother: On the 15th June 1918! His being came back after so many years. He spent really a long time up there, enjoying himself and then he came back to finish his work he had started. It seems he was prematurely killed. And since then, he has been looking for someone suitable with that intensity or heart, who could finish the work he started. He was Bengali?
The Mother: A Brahmin?
Mona: Yes, Mother. A Brahmin.
The Mother: But he came back after a long time. Usually, when one dies prematurely and has some work to accomplish, one takes birth very soon. He was a very determined and sincere man, who wanted to complete his work. He wanted it almost desperately. I knew him long, long ago. The part of his being that comes to me is his vital and his subtle physical. They wanted to finish the work he started. One of his beings, the vital, was not satisfied so it wandered in these earthly regions in order to find a medium and finish his work.
Mona: So, Mother, where is his psychic being?
The Mother: It has left, it is there in the higher regions. Actually, his psychic being is a little diffused.
Mona: What does that mean, Mother?
The Mother: It means that his psychic was not fully individualised. It was still a little hazy.
Mona: I don’t understand, Mother.
The Mother: I mean that his psychic was not developed enough to choose its own destiny. His psychic could not leave the body, come back as it wished, and choose the place most suitable for its specific work. When the psychic is individualised, it chooses the place and the circumstances that will help it best to accomplish what it comes for during the whole of its earthly existence, and when this is done it departs at will. I can see that his psychic being was not quite illumined, but he had a very strong will-power. I must say that most people are not at all aware of their psychic being; it is so hazy, sometimes so clouded that one would think they have no psychic being. But in this case, the psychic is somewhat illumined, but not yet individualised or conscious — but still, it is clearly visible….
Mona: His name is Bhagat Singh. He is quite famous.
The Mother: He looks very determined.
Mona: They tortured him a lot before sending him to the gallows.
The Mother: He too was hanged?
The Mother: Then why did they torture him?
Mona: To collect evidence from him, of parties and their secret activities.
The Mother: Oh! to hang him was not enough for them.
Mona: Here is another photo of Bhagat Singh.
The Mother: He looks like a hero! (The Mother turns the pages and pointing to the photos of some freedom fighters asks who they were.)
Mona: Oh, Mother! These were the men who captured from the British the surrounding portion of the town of Chittagong and declared the area free. They had held that freedom for a short while until new British reinforcements came. But they put up a stiff fight until they were overcome by a much larger force. Although they were short of ammunition, they never relented and many were killed. Surya Sen was their leader.
The Mother: They look so innocent, but very determined and devoted.
This is a thing I cannot understand; foreigners who come to rule a nation, to found an empire — and not only do they brutally try to enslave the people in a crude and degrading way but they forbid them to assert their human freedom, to love their Motherland, to worship the power she symbolises, to offer their work and their happiness to the Glory they adore. I cannot understand their purpose. Not only do they behave like marauders, sucking the blood of the nation and most of its wealth — its industry, agriculture, minerals — but they rule the country as it pleases them, and use all this wealth and financial power to live in even greater luxury and dazzle the whole world. All this at the expense of poor India who suffers so much, who cries out in agony — India torn by anxiety and always in need, with the disastrous consequence of famine and death. And yet she is not even allowed to raise her voice. That’s sheer barbarism!….
Oh! it was not enough for them to squeeze the last penny out of the land, they also had to empty the nation of its essential vitality, its aim and motive, its sovereign ideal. They tried to impose their low and empty culture which they claimed to be the highest and best, upon a nation whose wonderful culture has reigned supreme over the world since the beginning of time. That is why Sri Aurobindo came — he came to save India which was plunging headlong into the abyss and might have lost her soul…. (The Mother turns the pages.) It is wonderful, one can read it on their faces: no trace of grief, not the least fear of death, but a sort of anxiety because they had not been able to complete their task they vowed they would accomplish to free India from her foreign yoke. A sort of pain in their heart at the thought that they had to die too soon. Otherwise, they were ready to use any means to throw the British out of India. They were so devoted to their Motherland that they were ready to sacrifice their lives for Her. One even feels that they were proud to offer their lives on the altar of the Mother’s temple as if to adore Her. Oh, what a wonderful self-abnegation for the sake of the country! It is truly unique…. (The Mother turns the pages and sees the photograph of a woman) Ah! but it is a woman! Women too were helping revolutionaries at that time?
Mona: Indirectly, Mother. Yes, many women helped the movement and gave their support to it even at the risk of their lives. They helped by hiding weapons and money or by carrying them to those who needed them but could come out of their hide-outs only at night. They helped and inspired the political absconders….
(The Mother turns the pages and looks at the photos of Santosh Kumar Mitra and Chandra Sekhar Azad)
The Mother: Oh, these are wonderful! Each has his own character but who can say who was the braver of the two? Oh, this one, (Azad) his eyes are like a fire that burns to conquer and take its revenge over the prevailing injustice… (The Mother turns the pages and sees a photo of Jatindranath Mukherjee)
Mona: Mother, this is Tejen’s[4] father.
The Mother: But he resembles Prithwin[5] very much.
Mona: Yes, Mother. Jatin had a group, and all of them were killed in an open fight against British soldiers. They were waiting for a shipload of armaments from Germany. Unfortunately, the ship did not turn up as expected, that spoiled their plans. The British got scent of it and attacked them in force. They were all killed.
The Mother: Yes, yes, I know this man, he has exceptional qualities — his psychic is quite individualised, he knew what was going to happen, but that did not worry him at all….
And who is this one?
Mona: Subhas Bose.
The Mother: Oh, Subhas Bose!
Mona: And here again Mother, here is Subhas Bose in front of the Cellular Jails in the Andamans.
The Mother: Yes, I know.
Mona: Mother, this is the place where my father, Barin-da and others were sent after the trial. My father was sentenced to seven years’ imprisonment and Barin-da for life. It is in this jail that they were kept. (The Mother looks closely at the picture) Mother, it is Subhas who chased the British out of the Andamans with the help of the Japanese. This is his photograph after his conquest of the island.
The Mother: In him also the inner fire is burning. His psychic is illumined. Yes, it is very clear….
(After having seen all the photographs, the Mother says)
The Mother: It is very interesting, but where is the photograph of your father?
Mona: Mother, in this book they show only the pictures of the revolutionaries who have been killed while fighting the British. Only those who have been killed.
The Mother: Oh, only those who have sacrificed their lives.
The Mother: It was really an exceptional time in History, and they were exceptional people to have the courage to challenge the British Government. It is an extraordinary group…
Well, bring me this book some other day. I’ll look at it in more detail and read a little. It is interesting to see how Sri Aurobindo began this movement and how it produced so many gifted people….
Home
The Mother
Books
Compilations
Share your feedback. Help us improve. Or ask a question.