Among the Not So Great

Dadoo (Charu Chandra Dutt)

Strong Sun of God, immortal love,
Whom we, that have not seen thy face,
By faith, and faith alone, embrace,
Believing when we cannot prove.

In Memoriam, Tennyson

Dadoo he was to us, his students. He was known to others and the world at large as C. C. Dutt, I.C.S. or at least as Charu Dutt. The full name is Charu Chandra Dutt. He was probably quite well known in some older circles, i.e., in the early part of the last century. But of late not much is heard of him. So, it occurred to me — Why not rake up the still-warm interesting part, blow a little to let flare up the “fire” of Dadoo? For, he was a man out of the ordinary (as testified by our Guru Himself). I know he was a “great” but again I thought — Why not another exception, with an apology and bring him under “Not So Greats” — just for us to be amongst them. It feels good to rub shoulders with the likes of Dadoo.

(Dadoo himself had written an article about himself, long ago, in answer to many queries. Much of what I have written comes from that article and what I have put between quotes are actually his or Sri Aurobindo’s words as reported by him. Except for the para in italics which is a direct quote from a letter by the Master to one of the sadhaks.)

Dadoo was one of the most endearing teachers we ever had. C. C. Dutt (Charu Chandra Dutt) sounds too lengthy and grandiose for a man like him — so Dadoo he will be in most of our minds and in all that follows, from 1940 to 1952.

Dadoo even as a teacher in our school was a legendary figure. Later when I learned more about him, the legend only grew. There are we may say two legends — one as C. C. Dutt, Charu Dutt of the old cadre of ICS of the Raj, and the other as Dadoo of the Ashram after he settled here in 1940.

I will take up the latter legend first.

He taught History to us youngsters in our old school. His teaching methods were most unconventional but flamboyant and captivating. He already looked an old man in 1945. He conformed to a picture-book idea of a grandfather with a large pinch of aristocracy added on. Dadoo was not a very large man — may be a bit heavy due to old age. When young he must have been quite smart, energetic, bright and handsome (purely my guesswork and extrapolation backwards). He was always neatly attired in short trousers (above ankles), bush shirt and a waist-coat, steel-rimmed spectacles brightened his merry eyes. A smile ever played on his lips and charmed all who chanced to meet him. A felt hat and walking stick were his constant friends (in need). He looked a pucca retired “Saheb”.

Dadoo would come to school walking slowly with short steps helped along by the stick. Once in the classroom he would deposit the hat and stick on the table — within easy reach — and ease himself on to his chair, wipe his forehead and cheeks, look up and give us all a great smile with eyes, lips and more. Familiarity and happiness emanated from him. We were comfortable and ready. He would then launch off into his History lesson. We listened while he recounted history — after all history is story. Sometimes he would tell a story (Three Musketeers, Count of Monte Cristo, were favourites). It was not just recounting — but accompanied by vivid enactments (solo) with the help of hat and stick. They would be held aloft or in front or on the head or under the arm as the occasion demanded.

The hat would become a crown, halo, helmet, shield or just hat. The stick could be a gun, lance, sword, crutch, almost anything (of course a stick). Remarkable too was his ebullience, childlike and contagious and refreshing. He became one with and of the story and took us along.

I heard too that he took off a “false and flying” start in his job of and class-taking! Why — is anybody’s guess and imagination. The fact was he started taking History and / or Geography lessons right under the “Service” tree in the Ashram Courtyard! He probably got a little impatient. Sisirda our old headmaster even reported to the Mother that he (Dadoo) was taking these classes without textbooks. She said “that may be alright, these are just some practical classes etc. etc…” (I don’t know what else She had to say). Anyway he was soon taking classes in the classroom, in 1945.

More than taking classes, writing and translating, not much else was expected, and probably he could not and did not do anything else.

That was Dadoo from 1944 to 1952 in our School. But there is more to the story — how did he come here? Why? Dadoo retired from service in 1925. He was a mere 48 year old! (He was born in 1877.) We move on. He arrived here as a result of a few warm and warmer exchange of letters that culminated in his seeking and getting Sri Aurobindo’s permission to visit the Ashram. Along with the permission came a query from Sri Aurobindo: “Does he still smoke that old pipe of his? If so, how can he live in the Ashram?” Dadoo, not to be outdone, wrote back “Tell Sri Aurobindo that my pipe is my servant, I am its master.” So started Dadoo’s pilgrimage to the Ashram: So far, so good. But there was still a problem — it was the Mother! He was not too sure about “the French lady”. He had heard about Her, both from Her devotees and detractors. He had known other remarkable European women like Annie Besant, Sister Nivedita — but there was no question of prostrating at their feet! — others did so at the Mother’s feet — so what now? — all such thoughts were shooting and ricochetting in his mind when he was approaching Her on the eve of the Darshan Day, escorted by an Ashram friend. He decided that he would just do an ordinary ‘namaskar’, go back to his room, and write a letter to Her saying that as he could not follow the Ashram discipline, he was leaving Pondicherry. He approached, beheld those feet and a cry within him arose “Fool, fool, you thought those were human feet.” He rushed forward to seize them. “A powerful current passed through my frame and the problem of the Mother’s personality was solved for ever” (as confessed by Dadoo later).

The next day, Darshan day, Nirod-da met him and asked “What happened sir? Why did the Master say, ‘so Charu did bow down to the Mother!’ ” Dadoo had only this to say — that the Master had saved him. Then came “face-off” day (i.e. Darshan Day). Dadoo crossed the threshold of the Darshan Hall with “trembling feet and fluttering heart, with closed eyes.” When he faced the throne, he opened his eyes and beheld “a sky-blue face, beautiful and benign with a peacock feather on the head.” He could not bear to look at it again and left with averted face. His one thought was not to break down. When Puraniji asked Sri Aurobindo “How did you see your old friend?” Sri Aurobindo replied “Charu would not let me look at him.” This was the February Darshan.

Dadoo, before he came to Pondicherry, garlanded their family deity “Govindaji” with a garland of “Bokul” flowers (on Dol Purnima and Ras Purnima nights). He followed this ritual rather mechanically. It was done on his sister’s request, who had taken a vow on his behalf (because he was cured of a severe knee pain when she prayed to Govindaji). This time, i.e. in March after his first visit to Pondicherry, he was met at the Calcutta station by his nephew who took him straight to their Govindaji for the garlanding. Dadoo approached the deity as usual. But… lo and behold, there was nothing usual about it. Dadoo saw the deity’s eyes open and a gentle smile broke on the face — just as he had seen a few days back at Pondicherry. He picked up two handfuls of “Abir” (a red powder) and smeared Govindaji’s face. There is a beautiful sequel to this “Abir-smearing”. Later when Dadoo came to the Ashram, he brought a packet of Abir. He and his wife Leelavati desired, on a festive day, to smear some of it on Sri Aurobindo’s feet. But how? It was simple enough, because Leelavati went straight to the Mother and asked Her if She would do this for them, and the Mother agreed! Next day to their immense delight they got back the powder.

Dadoo even got his rosary or Rudrāksha mālā to be placed at Sri Aurobindo’s feet. Again it was the Mother who indulged her child. These were later events during the course of Dadoo’s stay here. But when he came back for the August Darshan (his second — after the first Darshan in February), he came with Leelavati and they gazed at Sri Aurobindo to their hearts’ content. And Sri Aurobindo too, as he remarked to Puraniji, “This time I had a good look at Charu, and I recognised Leelavati quite easily.” This was 1940. Dadoo realised that Sri Aurobindo had never forsaken him — a feeling that had gnawed at his heart for 30 long years. Dadoo did pour out all these feelings at the feet of the Mother. She asked him tenderly, “Do you understand now, why Sri Aurobindo came away here in 1910?” He answered, “Yes, I do Mother. As soon as I understood it, I ran up to you!”

Sometime in 1906 Dadoo had told Sri Aurobindo “You give so many good things to others. I have a request for myself. Let me have a copy of the Gita — one you have handled.” Dadoo used to read the Gita, but hardly ever discussed anything philosophical or spiritual with Sri Aurobindo. Once or twice when Dadoo did raise such topics, Sri Aurobindo would say “Not yet.” (They discussed political matters, poetry, history etc.) But when this request was made, Sri Aurobindo brought a well thumbed copy of the Gita and gave it to Dadoo. One gave it, the other took it — nothing much more was said. After 40 years, in 1946, Dadoo on an impulse, for no good reason, took the book (old and brittle) up to the Mother and said “Ma Mère (Mother mine), Sri Aurobindo gave this book to me 40 years ago. I would like you to keep it.” A few days later after the Darshan, Nirod-da came to Dadoo with something, wrapped up, placed it in Dadoo’s hands — it was the Gita. He said, “I am repeating Sri Aurobindo’s words — “I gave you the Gita in 1906 and asked you to keep it. I give it to you again today and ask you to keep it.” Thus he got the book twice, a doubly priceless book — once from a friend and the second time from his “Lord and Master”.

Dadoo — let us call him C.C. Dutt or plain Charu Dutt for the period — heard a great deal about Aurobindo Ghose, even in 1890, when Charu Dutt was in school in Calcutta. What astonished him and most others about this Ghose, was the complete Indianisation of one whose father was thoroughly Europeanised and whose education was in England (deliberately kept away from ‘native’ influence) and one who was not just educated, but reached its top echelons.

Later Dutt himself left for England. He too climbed very high the same ‘echelon’ as Aurobindo Ghose (not as high). He passed his ICS (unlike Aurobindo Ghose who chose to fail). But even when in England (1896-1899) Charu had already a foot in the revolutionary movement. He and a group of young men had pledged themselves to work for the freedom of their country and had, for this end, contacted some Irish revolutionaries. He continued such revolutionary activities even after joining the ICS. He was also implicated in the Alipore Bomb Case, but no charges were brought against him (I would not know why).

Charu Dutt was acquainted with Sri Aurobindo before 1910 and collaborated with Him. Sri Aurobindo often visited and even stayed in their house, in Thana and in Calcutta. Once, they were amusing themselves shooting at a target with a saloon rifle. When Sri Aurobindo entered, they persuaded him to try his hand. He agreed after a little bit of persuasion and technical explanation. It seems he got the target, the head of a matchstick at twelve feet, again and again.

There is also a story of a card game in which Sri Aurobindo after receiving a few instructions, partnered Mrs. Dutt and time and again beat the other pair of Charu Dutt and his brother-in-law Subodh Mallick. Sri Aurobindo seemed to know what cards the others held. It was a one-sided or more precisely no game at all.

These and more stories were told, which are repeated here just to impress upon us the most remarkable and fortunate nearness and camaraderie that Charu Dutt enjoyed with Sri Aurobindo.

Sometime Sri Aurobindo had passed remarks, semi-humorous, cloaked in ambiguity, during talks with Nirod-da and others, about Charu Dutt being “imaginative” and “inventive”.

Charu Dutt speaks of a faculty he had even before coming to Pondicherry. This was a power to look inside his body and see his internal organs (heart, lungs, liver etc.), the blood coursing through his veins. This usually happened when he sat relaxed, absent minded, at dusk or after dark. One day he said to Sri Aurobindo: “Why don’t you give me some nice object to concentrate upon?” Sri Aurobindo said nothing though on previous occasions he would say “Not yet.” (Sri Aurobindo knew of Charu Dutt’s faculty to look inside himself, but had never encouraged it.) He (Sri Aurobindo) left for Baroda. After that, one day he had the experience of this old faculty — but — seated inside him, he saw “a luminous, entrancing figure of a Yogi sitting in padmasan”. He found it now easy to concentrate on this figure. By and by this figure got confused with that of Sri Aurobindo. Sri Aurobindo never admitted to having given such an image! He said “O! That image of yours! I know nothing about it.”

In 1925 Charu Dutt retired from service and went to Calcutta. Sri Aurobindo had left the political field and Calcutta. This sudden departure did not go down well with many — it was so with Charu Dutt. He whom Charu Dutt had recognised as “Chief” had let them down. In a great huff he broke all contact with Sri Aurobindo. He burned many letters he had from Sri Aurobindo. Somehow the Gita given by Sri Aurobindo escaped the mini holocaust.

Charu Dutt then dabbled in many a “trade” — wrote history, biographies, on science and tried his hand at art. But nothing really satisfied him. He was going through some rough weather too. Leelavati his wife kept telling him “go to Ghose Saheb, he will give you peace”. He would not pay heed — he could not bring himself to. It hurt him, but he suffered himself to carry the chip on his shoulder! Then came a break.

Once someone, a sadhak from the Ashram had written to Charu Dutt that “many here want to meet you”. He replied “I will not go to your Ashram to satisfy my curiosity. When I go, it will be to offer myself.” Then it happened that Charu Dutt had written a review of Jawaharlal’s Autobiography. This review was published in a magazine (Vishwa Bharati). It was shown to Sri Aurobindo. A sadhak asked “Did you, Guru, have contact with this gentleman of yore? Political?” The reply from the Guru was the one which, when communicated to Charu Dutt, broke him down completely. A wound, kept open for 30 long years, suddenly started to heal. The Guru’s reply was:

Charu Dutt? Yes, saw very little of him, for physically our way lay far apart, but that little was very intimate, one of the band of men I used most to appreciate and felt as if they had been my friends comrades and fellow warriors in the battle of the ages and would be so for ages more. But curiously enough, my physical contact with men of his type, there were two or three others, was always brief. Because I had something else to do this time, I suppose.²

On seeing it “I was overwhelmed by a sense of shame and sorrow. I sat stupefied for a while” — as Charu Dutt himself wrote. Leelavati was naturally overjoyed. She said “I have told you so often before. Go to Him for a while. He will give you peace.” Charu Dutt immediately wrote to the sadhak. The sequel, as we have seen, was Charu Dutt’s pilgrimage to the Ashram — indeed one long destined and long prepared, for Charu Dutt again joined the ranks of his old “Chief” to resume the “Battle of the ages”.

Dadoo the old “fellow warrior” left this visible Battlefield in 1952. How he fought here! Colourful and flamboyant like one of his Musketeers and tenacious as a terrier. We saw him as he lay in state, a faint smile as of old yet played on his lips. May be he hears his Chief’s fresh order and call to arms on new frontiers.

We know so little about such matters of past and future and frontiers and fellow-warriors. Yet, with this little knowledge, maybe we can hope and pray to meet again on the ‘right’ side whenever and wherever the battle-lines are drawn.