Sri Aurobindo for All Ages

VII: The Alipore Bomb Case - One Year in Jail (1908-1909)

ON FRIDAY night I was sleeping without a worry. At about five the next morning [May 2, 1908] my sister rushed to my room in great agitation and called me out by name. I got up. The next moment the small room was filled with armed policemen! Superintendent Cregan, Mr. Clark of 24-Paraganas, the charming and delightful visage of familiar Sriman Benod Gupta, a few inspectors, red-turbaned policemen, spies and search witnesses. They all came running like heroes, pistols in hand, as though they were besieging, with guns and cannons, a well-armed fort. I heard that a white hero had aimed a pistol at my sister's breast, but I myself did not see it.' This is how Sri Aurobindo begins the account of his arrest in Karakahini (Tales of Prison Life), his book in Bengali which was first serialised in the magazine Suprabhat during 190910. Those of you who know Bengali will be well rewarded to turn to the original, for it has a special flavour of its own. Written with rare detachment, it is an inspiring record of his intense sadhana in the most unpropitious surrounding imaginable, and of the crowning spiritual experiences he had in jail. Besides, his use of irony, sarcasm, invective and humour in exposing the prison system under the British rule is both devastatingly effective and richly entertaining. And there are brilliant sketches of some of the inmates and officials of the jail as well as of those who were participants in the Trial. I shall quote some excerpts for you from the book and wish there was scope for giving you more.

To resume Sri Aurobindo's description of the arrest: was sitting up, still half-asleep when Cregan inquired, "Who is Aurobindo Ghose, is that you?" I answered, "Yes. I am Aurobindo Ghose." Immediately he ordered a policeman to put me under arrest.... I asked for the search warrant, read it and then signed it. Finding a mention of bombs in the warrant I realized that the presence of these soldiers and policemen was connected with the Muzzafarpur killing. What I could not understand, however, was why, even before any bombs and explosives had been discovered in my house, and in the absence of a body warrant, I was arrested. But I did not raise any useless objections. Afterwards, under instructions from Cregan my arms were handcuffed, and a rope tied round my waist. An upcountry constable stood behind me holding the rope end. Just then the police brought in Shrijut Abinash Bhattacharjee and Shrijut Sailen Bose, handcuffed and roped round the midriff. Nearly half an hour later, I do not know at whose bidding, they removed the rope and the handcuffs. From Cregan's words it seemed as if he had entered into the lair of some ferocious animal, as if we were a lot of uneducated, wild, law-breakers, and it was unnecessary to behave courteously towards us. But after a sharp exchange of words the sahib grew a little milder. Benodbabu tried to tell him something about me, after which Cregan asked me: "It seems you are a B. A. Is it not a matter of shame for an educated person like you to be sleeping on the floor of an unfurnished room and a house like this?" "I am a poor man, and I live like one," I said. "Then, have you worked up all this mischief with the idea of becoming a rich man?" Cregan shouted in reply. Knowing how impossible it would be to explain the love of motherland, or the sublimity of a vow of poverty to this thick-skulled Briton I did not make the attempt.'

Meanwhile the house was being searched from top to bottom. Sri Aurobindo writes: 'The search began at five-thirty, and was over at about eleven-thirty. All the boxes were turned inside out: exercise books, letters, papers, scraps, poems, plays, prose, essays, translations, nothing escaped the clutches of the all-consuming search but nothing remarkable transpired in the course of it. However, I recollect Mr. Clark looking long and suspiciously at the sacred earth from Dakshineshwar that had been kept in a small cardboard box: he thought it might be some new and terribly powerful explosive. In a sense his suspicions were not unfounded.'

The search over, the three arrested persons were taken first to the local police station and then to the Police Headquarters at Lal Bazar. To quote Sri Aurobindo further: 'After being made to wait there for a couple of hours we were removed to Royd Street [premises of the Intelligence Branch], in which auspicious locality we stayed all evening. It was there that I first came to know the wily detective Maulvi Sams-ul-Alam and had the pleasure of entering into a cordial relation with him.... The Maulvi made me listen to a most entertaining sermon on religion: "To be truthful is part of the religious life. The Sahibs say Aurobindo Ghose is the leader of the terrorist party; this is a matter of shame and sorrow for India. But by keeping to the path of rectitude the situation can yet be saved." The Maulvi was fully convinced that distinguished persons, men of high character, like Bepin Pal and Aurobindo Ghose, whatever they might have done, they would openly confess their deeds.... I was charmed and delighted with his knowledge, intelligence and religious fervour. It would have been impertinent to talk too much, so I listened politely to his priceless sermon and cherished it in my heart. But in spite of his religious enthusiasm the Maulvi did not forget his profession as a detective. Once he said: "You made a great mistake in handing over the garden to your younger brother to manufacture bombs. That was not very intelligent on your part." I saw the implication of his words and said with a smile: "Sir, the garden is as much mine as my brother's. Where did you learn that I had given it over to him, or given it to him for the purpose of making bombs?" A little abashed the Maulvi answered: "No, no, I was mentioning this in case you had given it."'

From Royd Street Sri Aurobindo was taken back to Lal Bazar. To continue his narrative: 'At Lal Bazar Sailen and I were kept together in a large room on the ground floor. Some food was given to us. After a while two Englishmen entered the room; later I was told that one of them was the Police Commissioner, Mr. Halliday himself. Finding the two of us together Halliday lost his temper with the sergeant, and pointing towards me he said, "Take care that nobody stays or speaks with this man." Sailen was at once removed and locked up in another room. When I was alone with Halliday he asked me: "Aren't you ashamed of being involved in this cowardly, dastardly activity?" "What right have you to assume that I was involved?" To this Halliday replied: "I am not assuming, I know everything." At this I said: "What you know or do not know is your concern. I wholly deny having any connection with these murderous acts."'

From these exchanges which took place you can see how careful and controlled Sri Aurobindo was in replying to questions and to the provocations to which he was subjected. He knew enough about law, which he had studied for his ICS examinations, not to be trapped. Despite pressure, he refused to make any statements and stood on his rights. From the beginning the Government were bent on harassing Sri Aurobindo as much as they could. The food he was given was not fit to be eaten. His lawyer sought permission to have food sent from home but this was refused by the Police Commissioner. And three nights were spent in Lal Bazar in this fashion.

On Monday May 5, the prisoners were produced at the court of the Chief Presidency Magistrate, Calcutta. By that time the Government had decided that, in view of the very large number of arrests which had been made (as many as eight different locations were raided and searched by the Police and more than twenty-five persons arrested on the morning of May 2 itself, and further arrests followed), all the individual cases would be joined and sent up for trial by the District Magistrate, Alipore, as the proper jurisdictional authority. So Sri Aurobindo and all the other prisoners were sent to Alipore Jail to await trial which came to be known as the Alipore Bomb Trial.

‘My prison life in Alipore began on May 5. Next year, on May 6, I was released,' wrote Sri Aurobindo and he observed philosophically: 'Friday, May 1, 1908... I did not know that it would mean the end of a chapter in my life and that there stretched before me a year's imprisonment during which all my human relations would cease, that for a whole year I would have to live, beyond the pale of society, live like an animal in a cage. And when I would re-enter the world of activity, it would not be the old familiar Aurobindo Ghose.... I have spoken of a year's imprisonment. It would have been more appropriate to speak of a year's living in an ashram or a hermitage.... The only result of the wrath of the British Government was that I found God.'

Meanwhile the news of Sri Aurobindo's arrest and of the large-scale rounding up of the revolutionaries had spread all over the country. People were stunned. The Muzzafarpur bomb outrage had itself created a sensation. Of the two young men who were caught, Prafulla Chaki shot himself as he was being arrested and the other, Khudiram, was awaiting his trial. (Later he was hanged and his very name became a synonym of martyrdom.) Few could believe that Sri Aurobindo was involved in the terrorist plots and yet he had been caught by the Government who were making out that he was the kingpin, the root of all this evil! People were bewildered as much as they were shocked and grieved.

The Alipore Bomb Trial commenced before Mr. Birley, District Magistrate of Alipore, on May 17, 1908. This was the preliminary trial. Altogether forty-two persons had been arrested of whom three were released for want of sufficiently incriminating evidence against them. The Magistrate now proceeded to hear the Prosecution draw up individual charges against the remaining thirty-nine accused, including Sri Aurobindo, on the basis of the evidence gathered.

While the preliminary trial was going on in the District Magistrate's Court, a dramatic event took place. One of the accused, Narendranath Gossain, had become an approver, i.e. in return for a promise by the Government that he would be given full pardon, he agreed to make a confession, provide statements of all that he knew and appear as a witness for the Prosecution. As soon as he had taken this step, Gossain was removed to the European section of the jail, away from his former companions. However, this did not save him. Two of the revolutionaries, Kanai Lal Dutt and Satyendranath Bose had already decided that for this act of betrayal Gossain must pay with his life. They arranged to send word to him that they too would like to turn approvers, and a meeting was accordingly arranged in front of the jail dispensary on the morning of August 31. Here, whilst they were engaged in conversation, suddenly shots rang out. Gossain was seen running away chased by Kanai and Satyen who were themselves being pursued by the warders. More shots were fired and Gossain was seen to fall into a drain by the side of the pathway along which they were running. He was dead. By this time Kanai and Satyen were overpowered and in the midst of tremendous noise and excitement they were immediately removed and segregated. Both were sent up for a summary trial and since neither made any attempt to defend himself, both were sentenced to death. They died like heroes, mourned by all true patriots. There can be no doubt that Gossain's death had a decisive effect on the entire trial. He had already made several damaging statements which might have seriously jeopardised Sri Aurobindo's defence and created other grave complications. Gossain would certainly have been a key witness but with his death the Prosecution was debarred from producing his statements as evidence since the Defence would have no opportunity to cross-examine him on the witness stand. Thus, legally, the statements stood invalidated.

You may well ask: How could Kanai and Satyen get hold of the revolvers? Well, no one really knows but later investigations indicate that perhaps one of the revolutionaries of Chandernagore smuggled two revolvers into the jail and made them over to Barin. Whatever the means adopted, one cannot but admire the heroic resolution of those who silenced the traitor.

The preliminary trial came to an end on September 14. Of the thirty-nine prisoners three had lost their lives, Gossain, Kanai and Satyen. After hearing both the Prosecution and the Defence, the Magistrate committed the remaining thirty-six to trial by the Sessions Judge, Alipore, the next higher Court. All the accused were charged with 'organising a gang for the purpose of waging war against the Government by criminal force', a grave offence under the Indian Penal Code. In the case of Barin, Hemchandra Das, Ullaskar Dutt and others, additional charges were framed, those of conspiracy, complicity in plots for assassination and other murderous acts, illegal manufacture of explosives, etc. etc., charges which if proved, would call for the highest punishment. Sri Aurobindo was also specifically accused of some of these offences including conspiracy and complicity in terrorist plots. The stage was now set for the main trial to commence before the District and Sessions Judge for 24-Paraganas and Hooghly, Mr. Charles Porten Beachcroft.

As evidence 4000 documents, 300 to 400 exhibits including explosives, bombs and weapons were produced. Nearly 200 witnesses were examined. The case commenced on October 19, 1908, and went on until April 13, 1909 — 131 days. Judgement was delivered on May 6, 1909.

I shall make no attempt to take you through the ramifications of this tremendous legal battle on the outcome of which depended so many lives. It created an unparalleled sensation and reports of the trial were followed by people all over the country with breathless suspense. All I shall try to do is to give you a few of its main features and highlights.

It is a remarkable coincidence that the case should have come up for hearing in the court of Judge Beachcroft. He was a member of the ICS and had passed his preliminary examination in the same year as Sri Aurobindo, 1890. Sri Aurobindo had then secured a higher position than he in the examination. Thereafter both were scholars at Cambridge — Sri Aurobindo at King's College and Beachcroft at Clare College. Their paths must have met many times, particularly when they were taking the intermediate and final examinations for the ICS. Certainly they knew each other but they were not close friends; otherwise, Beachcroft might well have declined to try the case. But the fact that he knew Sri Aurobindo and was fully familiar with his background must have led Beach-croft to follow the case with more than usual attention and care. And there can be no doubt that he was a fair and fine judge, later rising to be a Judge of the Calcutta High Court. That his judgement was eminently sound is also shown by the fact that the Government, after careful consideration, decided not to appeal against it. Had there been a less impartial judge, the outcome could have been very different.

To fight their case, the Government engaged Eardley Norton, an eminent barrister from Madras, who was known as a formidable criminal lawyer with the reputation of a bully who could browbeat witnesses into submission and win his cases. In the early stages of the trial, a number of lawyers appeared on behalf of Sri Aurobindo and the other defendants but after it had reached the Sessions stage C.R. Das took charge of the Defence, particularly that of Sri Aurobindo. He was then a rising barrister with a growing reputation, had known Sri Aurobindo in England and was closely connected with him in the political field. At a great sacrifice he gave up all his other practice and conducted the Defence without charging any fees, toiling at it night and day with one-pointed zeal and perseverance. His masterly handling of the case set the seal on his reputation and he soon became one of the greatest lawyers of his day, and later a leader of the nation in the political sphere. Indeed, it can be said that the appearance of C.R. Das changed the course of the trial so far as it affected Sri Aurobindo, and in the famous speech Sri Aurobindo delivered at Uttarpara, after his acquittal, indeed he says: 'When the trial opened in the Sessions Court, I began to write many instructions for my counsel as to what was false in the evidence against me and on what points the witnesses might be cross-examined. Then something happened which I had not expected. The arrangements which had been made for my defence were suddenly changed and another counsel stood there to defend me.... When I saw him I was satisfied, but I still thought it necessary to write instructions. Then all that was put away from me and I had the message from within, "This is the man who will save you from the snares put around your feet. Put aside those papers. It will not be you who will instruct him. I will instruct him."'

You can imagine the enormous expenses involved in fighting a long drawn-out legal battle of such magnitude. To meet these costs, a Defence Fund was started by Sarojini, Sri Aurobindo's sister and people from far corners of the country sent in their contributions, big and small, which were of great practical help to Sri Aurobindo's supporters in those difficult days.

There is one aspect of the trial or rather of the atmosphere of the court-room in which the trial was being held, that I would like to mention. As the proceedings went on day after day, the prisoners were brought daily to the courtroom from the jail to be present during the trial. They were placed behind a wire-network and policemen with fixed bayonets stood on guard throughout the room. Norton has stated that he used to keep a loaded revolver lying on his brief, as a precautionary measure. But in this tense atmosphere and whilst the courtroom drama was being enacted, the demeanour of the prisoners was an extraordinary sight. Sri Aurobindo sat quietly, detached and often completely self-absorbed; nor were the others in a flurry or fluster. Their appearance was cheerful and they seemed unconcerned about the future. In his Karakahini Sri Aurobindo writes: '...one could see a strange spectacle: while the trial was going on, and the fate of thirty or forty accused was being wrangled over, the result of which might have been 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 the novels of Bankim Chandra, Vivekananda's Raja Yoga, or the Gita, the Puranas, or European Philosophy.'

At last the trial drew to a close. Had it not been for Sri Aurobindo, the case would have been over long ago, for he was the one person, more than any other, whom the Prosecution was anxious to convict. The final speech for the Defence by C.R. Das spread over eight days. It is still recognised as a masterpiece of the art of legal advocacy and his inspired words towards the close of the speech when he addressed the Judge and Assessors have long been famous. He said: 'My appeal to you therefore is that a man like this who is being charged with the offences imputed to him stands not only before the bar in this Court but stands before the bar of the High Court of History. And my appeal to you is this: That long after this controversy is hushed in silence, long after this turmoil, this agitation ceases, long after he is dead and gone, he will be looked upon as the poet of patriotism, as the prophet of nationalism and the lover of humanity. Long after he is dead and gone his words will be echoed and reechoed not only in India, but across distant seas and lands. Therefore I say that the man in his position is not only standing before the bar of this Court but before the bar of the High Court of History.'

The judgement was due to be delivered on May 6, 1909. The Government had taken elaborate precautions to prevent any disorder or demonstrations on the day of the verdict. The prisoners were led into the courtroom, as usual, and at ten minutes to eleven, the Judge mounted the bench. Ten minutes later, he pronounced the sentence: Barin and Ullaskar were sentenced to death; ten others, including Hemchandra Das, were sentenced to transportation for life; seven others to transportation or imprisonment for varying periods. The remaining seventeen, whose names were not read out, were acquitted. Among them were Sri Aurobindo and Nolini Kanta Gupta.

Despite the severity of the sentences on the others (upon appeal the sentences on Barin and Ullaskar were reduced to transportation for life), there was widespread rejoicing at Sri Aurobindo's release. Along with the others who had been acquitted, Sri Aurobindo was taken straight to the house of C.R. Das where they were given a royal reception and garlanded by the ladies. There was much jubilation followed by a sumptuous meal. However, it is said that amidst all these rejoicings, Sri Aurobindo had 'the same wistful look in his eyes, outwardly unconcerned and unperturbed'.

I must turn now to Sri Aurobindo's experiences in the Alipore Jail and tell you something about them, for in a way they were even more important and significant than the dramatic events which took place outside.

From the very first hour of his year-long stay at the Jail Sri Aurobindo was placed in solitary confinement. In the Karakahini he writes: 'My solitary cell was nine feet long and five feet in width; it had no windows, in front stood strong iron bars, and this cage was my appointed abode. Outside was a small stone-paved courtyard and a high brick wall with a small wooden door. In that door at eye-level, there was a small hole or opening. After the door had been bolted the sentry peeped in from time to time in order to find out what the convict was doing. But my courtyard door remained open for most of the time.' In that small cell he had to eat, sleep and attend to Nature's calls. And yet, listen to the way he describes his predicament: 'Needless to say, because of all this arrangement in a small room, one had throughout to undergo considerable inconvenience, especially at meal times and during the nights. Attached bathrooms are, I know, oftentimes a part of western civilization, but to have, in a small cell, a bedroom, dining room and w.c. rolled into one — this is what is called too much of a good thing! We Indians are full of regrettable customs; it is painful for us to be so highly civilized.' Indeed the physical conditions under which he had to live were simply inhuman. It was in the thick of summer that he was arrested and that small cell was like an oven. The quality of the food was appalling: 'coarse rice, even that spiced with husk, pebbles, insects, hair, dirt and such other stuff; the tasteless lentil soup was heavily watered and the vegetables and greens were mixed with grass and leaves.' And even water was meagerly doled out. Sri Aurobindo was provided with a blanket, a plate and a bowl. 'My dear bowl,' Sri Aurobindo writes, 'was multi-purpose, free from all caste restrictions, beyond all discriminations; in my cell it helped in the act of ablution, later with the same bowl I rinsed my mouth and bathed, and a little later when I had to take my food, the lentil soup or vegetable was poured into the same container. I drank water out of it and washed my mouth. Such an all-purpose priceless object can be had only in a British prison.' But all our sense of indignation at such treatment is dissipated when we read his wonderful words: 'The description of the Alipore Government hotel which I have given here, and will elaborate later, is not for the purpose of advertising my own hardship; it is only to show what peculiar arrangements are made for undertrial prisoners in the civilised British Raj. What prolonged agony for the innocent! The causes of hardship I have described were no doubt there, but since my faith in divine mercy was strong I had to suffer only for the first few days; thereafter —by what means I shall mention later — the mind had risen above these sufferings and grown incapable of feeling any hardship. That is why when I recollect my prison life instead of anger or sorrow I feel like laughing.'

It was characteristic of Sri Aurobindo that amidst all the harshness and inhumanity of prison life he could still see that the fault lay in the system and not in the lack of human qualities in the jail officials. In the Karakahini he has given us very sympathetic sketches of the Jail Superintendent, Mr. Emerson, calling him 'an embodiment of Europe's nearly vanished Christian ideals', the assistant doctor, Baidyanath Chatterjee, and his superior officer Dr. Daly, an Irishman who had 'inherited many of the qualities of that liberal and sentimental race'. Indeed it was because of Dr. Daly that Sri Aurobindo was given permission after some time to take a stroll every morning and afternoon in the open space in front of his cell. He was also permitted to obtain clothes and books from home and accordingly asked his uncle, Krishna Kumar Mitra, to send him the Gita and the Upanishads.

We come now to the overwhelming spiritual experience Sri Aurobindo had in jail. He spoke of it in his Uttarpara Speech, to which I have referred earlier, and I shall be quoting from it extensively. But this experience did not come to him without a period of intense inner struggle. At Uttarpara he said: 'When I was arrested and hurried to the Lal Bazar Hajat I was shaken in faith for a while, for I could not look into the heart of His intention. Therefore I faltered for a moment and cried out in my heart to Him, "What is this that has happened to me? I believed that I had a mission to work for the people of my country and until that work was done, I should have Thy protection. Why then am I here and on such a charge?" A day passed and a second day and a third, when a voice came to me from within, "Wait and see." Then I grew calm and waited. I was taken from Lal Bazar to Alipore and was placed for one month in a solitary cell apart from men. There I waited day and night for the voice of God within me, to know what He had to say to me, to learn what I had to do. In this seclusion the earliest realisation, the first lesson came to me. I remembered then that a month or more before my arrest, a call had come to me to put aside all activity, to go into seclusion and to look into myself, so that I might enter into closer communion with Him. I was weak and could not accept the call. My work was very dear to me and in the pride of my heart I thought that unless I was there, it would suffer or even fail and cease; therefore I would not leave it. It seemed to me that He spoke to me again and said, The bonds that you had not the strength to break, I have broken for you, because it is not my will nor was it ever my intention that that should continue. I have had another thing for you to do and it is for that I have brought you here, to teach you what you could not learn for yourself and to train you for my work." Then he placed the Gita in my hands. His strength entered into me and I was not only to understand intellectually but to realise what Sri Krishna demanded of Arjuna and what He demands of those who aspire to do His work.'

Then Sri Aurobindo goes on to speak of his experience: He made me realise the central truth of the Hindu religion. He turned the hearts of my jailors to me and they spoke to the Englishman in charge of the jail, "He is suffering in his confinement; let him at least walk outside his cell for half an hour in the morning and in the evening." So it was arranged, and it was while I was walking that His strength again entered into me. I looked at the jail that secluded me from men and it was no longer by its high walls that I was imprisoned; no, it was Vasudeva who surrounded me, I walked under the branches of the trees in front of my cell but it was not the trees, I knew it was Vasudeva, it was Sri Krishna whom I saw standing there and holding over me his shade. I looked at the bars of my cell, the very grating that did duty for a door and again I saw Vasudeva. It was Narayana who was guarding and standing sentry over me. Or I lay on the coarse blankets that were given me for a couch and felt the arms of Sri Krishna around me, the arms of my Friend and Lover. This was the first use of the deeper vision He gave me. I looked at the prisoners in the jail, the thieves, the murderers, swindlers, and as I looked at them I saw Vasudeva, it was Narayana whom I found in these darkened souls and misused bodies. Among these thieves and dacoits there were many who put me to shame by their sympathy, their kindness, the humanity triumphant over such adverse circumstances. One I saw among them especially, who seemed to me a saint, a peasant of my nation who did not know how to read and write, an alleged dacoit sentenced to ten years rigorous imprisonment, one of those whom we look down upon in our Pharisaical pride of class as chhotalok. Once more He spoke to me and said, "Behold the people among whom I have sent you to do a little of my work. This is the nature of the nation I am raising up and the reason why I raise them."'

And Sri Aurobindo continues: When the case opened in the Lower Court and we were brought before the Magistrate I was followed by the same insight. He said to me, "When you were cast into jail, did not your heart fail and did you not cry out to me, 'Where is Thy protection?' Look now at the Magistrate, look now at the Prosecuting Counsel." I looked and it was not the Magistrate whom I saw, it was Vasudeva, it was Narayana who was sitting there on the bench. I looked at the Prosecuting Counsel and it was not the counsel for the prosecution that I saw; it was Sri Krishna who sat there; it was my Lover and Friend who sat there and smiled. "Now do you fear?" he said, "I am in all men and I overrule their actions and their words. My protection is still with you and you shall not fear. This case which is brought against you, leave it in my hand. It is not for you. It is not for the trial that I brought you here but for something else. The case itself is only a means for my work and nothing more.... I am guiding, therefore fear not. Turn to your own work for which I have brought you to jail and when you come out, remember never to fear, never to hesitate. Remember that it is I who am doing this, not you nor any other. Therefore whatever clouds may come, whatever dangers and sufferings, whatever difficulties, whatever impossibilities, there is nothing impossible and nothing difficult. I am in the nation and its uprising and I am Vasudeva, I am Narayana, and what I will, shall be, not what others will. What I choose to bring about, no human power can stay."'

There is no need for me to comment on Sri Aurobindo's words —if you read them aloud you may feel something of the immense vibrations they contain. Sri Aurobindo himself has said that this was the realisation of the cosmic consciousness — of the Divine as all beings and all that is, Vasudevah sarvamiti, and it was the second of the four great realisations (of the first — the experience of Brahma-Nirvana at Baroda — I have already spoken) on which his yoga and spiritual philosophy are founded.

After sometime Sri Aurobindo was transferred from the solitary cell to a large hall in the jail where he lived with the other undertrial prisoners. Sri Aurobindo was then so intensely absorbed in his sadhana that he hardly took any part in the general talk, laughter and games in which the others would often be engaged. But now he had an opportunity to get acquainted with his fellow-accused, many of whom he had not met before. Of them he writes in Karakahini: 'Looking at these lads, one felt as if the large-hearted, daring, puissant men of an earlier age with a different training had come back to India.' In his Uttarpara speech also he spoke of them as 'young men of mighty courage'.

After the assassination of Naren Gossain, the authorities tightened up the security regulations in the Jail and Sri Aurobindo again occupied a solitary cell. But now he was so immersed in his sadhana that the prison became for him truly an ashram. During this period he had many extraordinary experiences, occult in nature, some of which he mentioned later. One of the most important of these experiences covered a period of two weeks when he heard constantly the voice of Vivekananda speaking to him in his solitary meditation and felt his presence. Sri Aurobindo told us: 'It was the spirit of Vivekananda which first gave me a clue in the direction of the Supermind. This clue led me to see how the Truth-Consciousness works in everything. He didn't say "Super-mind" — "Supermind" is my own word....'

Another remarkable development was the sudden opening of the capacity for appreciating painting. He said: 'I knew something about sculpture, but was blind to painting. Suddenly one day in the Alipore Jail while meditating I saw some pictures on the walls of the cell and lo and behold, the artistic eye in me opened and I knew all about painting except of course the more material side of the technique.'

Once, as he was wondering during his sadhana, whether siddhis (powers) like levitation were possible at all, he found himself suddenly raised up in the air. On another occasion when he was practising raising his arms and leaving them in a suspended position without muscular effort, he went to sleep; the warden who saw the scene from outside was alarmed and reported that he was dead!

On still another occasion he experimented with fasting for eleven days to see what spiritual benefit accrued from it. Though he lost about ten pounds in weight, he had no adverse effects and could lift a pail of water above his head, which he normally could not do.

Yet another remarkable phenomenon was that his hair always glistened. One of his co-prisoners made bold to ask him: 'Do you use oil for your hair?' Sri Aurobindo stunned him with his reply: 'No, at present I do not take a bath. I am passing through some physical changes as a result of spiritual experiences. My hair draws fat from the body.'

Now, has science any explanation to offer about these extraordinary phenomena or will it dismiss them as grandmother's tales? I leave you to find your own answers but I think I have told you enough about Sri Aurobindo's experiences in the Jail for you to realise how profound were the changes they brought about in him. They remind me of these lines from Savitri:

A wide God-knowledge poured down from above,
A new world-knowledge broadened from within ...
The human in him paced with the divine.