Talks by Nirodbaran

8 September 1969

When I told you in my talk last Wednesday that I went, like the Lord, to prison, but, unlike Him, saw nothing, perhaps you

190These are noble characters in Bankim Chandra's novel. The author of the article is saying here that Sri Aurobindo is equal to all of them at once.

191Foreigner, in Urdu and Hindi. The word often carries a derogatory connotation.

192A temple to the Divine Mother who is representative of the nation.

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didn't get the hint. Well, I did go to prison! After my matriculation, in 1920 or 1921, the Non-Cooperation Movement¹⁹³ started. People were leaving schools and colleges to spread the word in the villages. After the annual matriculation and university exams, there was usually a leave for three months. So during this period, just for sheer fun, we joined the Non-Cooperation Movement. We had to go about lecturing in the villages. Then we two - I and a friend of mine (not Prodyot) - went about, far from home, preaching Hindu-Muslim unity, etc.; then we took food at people's houses - nice experience really! We would roam from village to village and come back late at night. My mother, who knew nothing of all this, would ask me, "Where did you go ?" and 1 would just hush the thing up by avoiding answering her. While we waited for the examination results to be announced, we told ourselves, "This won't do, we can't join college now; we must continue this national work." We made a fanciful and romantic move - we wrote to the Registrar of Calcutta University not to publish our results, and to strike out our names from the rolls!

Somehow, the news of our dubious deed leaked out, and my mother was very worried and said, "You foolish fellow, what is this you have done? You should study; this is the time for it. You have struck out your name?" Soon, some of my relatives came to know of it and they came over to see me - they were well-placed in the upper circles of society, so you can understand my predicament. They began bombarding me, "What have you done ? Why have you done this ?" (They were asking this especially because there was a chance of my getting good results). Thus, they tried to persuade me to retract what I had done, but they failed in their persuasion. So they left me, but they were clever - they wrote to the Registrar: "This boy acted out of foolishness," etc. etc. So the results came out and they were good! We were all very happy to see them.

193 The Non-Cooperation Movement was one of the powerful tactics used in the struggle for Indian Independence. It was first enunciated by Sri Aurobindo in a booklet entitled "The Doctrine of Passive Resistance". Basically, it advocated complete non-cooperation with the British authorities in all matters - social, economic, judicial, educational, etc. -by being self-reliant. The reference here is to the movement launched by Mahatma Gandhi, which advocated breaking laws peacefully and filling the jails willingly.

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Before their publication, we had decided not to budge, but now I changed my mind. Also because the Non-Cooperation Movement had come to a sort of a standstill. I told my mother, "I'll go to Calcutta. I don't want to study any more in the local school of Chittagong." There was a big railway strike at that time, stretching from Chittagong to Calcutta. So we had to take special permission from the magistrate. It was the first time that I was facing a magistrate (a European) in the court and he gave me the special travel pass. I made the long journey and at last reached Calcutta. I joined a second-class college as the best ones had no vacancies. There too, the Non-Cooperation Movement had started. There were all kinds of rowdy people in our college - it was a second-class college, as I said. We were lodged in a hostel with about two hundred other students. There also, the Non-Cooperation Movement organisers came and gave us lectures to join them. So we chose our leaders and plunged into the movement.

Somewhere in July, the tempo increased. I remember that, in September or October, C. R. Das¹⁹⁴ and his wife - or maybe it was his son, I don't remember - were arrested, and the whole of Calcutta was affected by it. There was great excitement and movement. Then picketing began. They went in front of shops and asked the shopkeepers to boycott British goods and to call for hartals.¹⁹⁵ As leaders were being arrested, there was great excitement on a large scale. Now the students came forward and took up the lead. Leaders came to our hostel and told us that we must take up the challenge. The British government is arresting our men, we must stop them. So one after another, leaders from the hostel came forward and batches were formed.

The Prince of Wales was to visit India soon, and Mahatma Gandhi said he must be boycotted. The spinning of charkha and wearing of

194C. R. Das was the lawyer who defended Sri Aurobindo in the Alipur Bomb Case and got him released from prison. His speech in the coutt was a masterpiece and one of the highpoints of the Freedom Movement.

195A form of strike action, used often during the Indian Independence Movement. It is a sort of mass protest, often involving a total shutdown of workplaces, offices, shops, etc. as a form of civil disobedience. In addition to being a general strike, it involves the voluntary closing of schools and places of business. It is a peaceful breaking of the law that is meant to protest against an unjust or unacceptable decision or system of the government.

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khaddar¹⁹⁶ became more widespread. Volunteers were necessary to preach then; everywhere you could hear the cries:

Charkha kato!

Prince of Wales ko boycott karo!

Khaddar pehno!¹⁹⁷

How effective it was! So all of us said, the call has come - what should we do? We must do something. We formed a group of ten to twelve boys; we went to a place, sat down and volunteered our names. Most of us were enlisted. I was the youngest in the group. It was to start the next day. I decided to go, without any hesitation. I packed my things in a trunk: books and clothes. Then I went to meet some friends and relatives. There was also a monk, a far-off relative of mine, who was a lecturer in the ancient language of Pali at Calcutta University. He was a very fine man; there was something spiritual in him. I went to tell him about my decision that I was going for picketing. Then I gave him two letters - one for my mother, the other for Prodyot, my friend. I gave instructions to the monk that if I did not return he should deliver the letters (for it would mean that I'd been arrested), otherwise he shouldn't. He was very much surprised to hear all this, but he was a person who never persuaded anybody for or against anything.

Then something very interesting happened - there was a young chap at my college, younger than I, who attached himself to me and said, "I'll come along with you." All my fellow-volunteers were naturally surprised and tried to dissuade him, but nothing doing, he clung to me. I had never known him except by face, and here he was, wanting to come with me. I said, "Sabbash!¹⁹⁸ Come along." So both of us went first to the quarters of the officers organising the local movement, where we had to enter our names. There, people from

196Charkha was the hand-operated spinning wheel on which all freedom fighters were supposed to make thread from cotton, which would then be woven into khaddar/khadi, a coarse kind of cotton cloth which was used to make garments for Indians. It was a gesture of self-reliance and an economic blow to the British enterprise of importing machine-manufactured cloth from Manchester.

197Spin the thread (to make cloth at home)! Boycott the Prince of Wales! Wear homespun cloth!

198Congratulations! Good job! Keep it up! - in Hindi.

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all walks of life were coming in as volunteers - workers, mill-hands, bidiwallas,^m199 students, all came. Each had a khadi flag in hand and shouted:

Khaddar karo!

Prince of Wales ko boycott karo!

Hindu-Muslim ek ho-o!²⁰⁰

We began our procession from the centre of Calcutta. We passed many policemen on the way, but up to the end, nobody was arrested. Whenever I saw a policeman, my heart palpitated. So throughout the procession, I had two predominant feelings: patriotism and fear! That day I wasn't arrested. I came back, but nobody knew.²⁰¹ The second day, I went to my morning classes; then in the afternoon, my young friend and I started again from the same place.

There were crowds and crowds, a lot of shouting and great pandemonium. On every lip were the cries of Bande Mataram and 'Allah Ho Akbar'.²⁰² One batch was arrested and there were louder shouts. We marched along quite a distance, near the police station, and near the river Ganges. Then we came to the sergeants' quarters - saw a big lawn where they were relaxing and having drinks: sorbet and tea, etc. We passed by, shouting the slogans, then a sergeant came out and asked, "What are you shouting?" We replied suitably. Then he thundered: "Why?" We said, "Because we are picketing." We were arrested! So we didn't return home, and I don't know what they must have all done at home. But the funny part is that from all those in our college who had enlisted their names, only two persons had kept their word - my young friend and I.

We were taken and put into a 'hajat' - a temporary prison. We were about a hundred persons, out of which there were very few

199Sellers of bidis, locally manufactured Indian equivalents of cigarettes.

200Weave your own cloth! Boycott the Prince of Wales! O Hindu and Muslim, be united!

201Nirod-ata means that nobody knew of his participation in the Freedom Movement. The average middle-class family was reluctant to let its family members join in the political movement, because of fear and the uncertainties of the situation.

202'I salute the Mother' (referring to Mother India) and 'God is great', respectively.

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students. The others were mill-hands, labourers and workers. So you can imagine how hungry we all were by the end of the day. I never used to take much tea back then! We were lucky to get delicious dishes like luchis,²⁰³ vegetables, halva,²⁰⁴ etc. from the Marwadis,²⁰⁵ who were very generous to us. At about 8 p.m., the police van came, a very big one, and many of us were bundled in. Our van went out and we shouted 'Bande Mataram' throughout and there was an echo from the crowds along the way. The police threatened to beat us with lathis²⁰⁶, but we continued shouting, always getting a response from the huge crowds.

Then we came to Alipore Jail, where Sri Aurobindo had been incarcerated. It was 9 p.m. Our names were entered, we were given two smelly blankets and one bowl each, also smelly and rusty. You have read the fine description of the bowl that Sri Aurobindo gave in His Tales of Prison Life:²⁰⁷

Properly washed and cleaned, my self-sufficing plate and bowl shone like silver, it was the solace of my life. In its impeccable, glowing radiance in the 'heavenly kingdom', in that symbol of immaculate British imperialism, I used to enjoy the pure bliss of loyalty to the Crown. Unfortunately, the plate too shared in the bliss, and if one pressed one's fingers a little hard on its surface it would start flying in a circle, like the whirling dervishes of Arabia.

So that was all the property we had! The vans came one by one, filled with people shouting 'Bande Mataram'. Then we all met and there was such a pandemonium, all enquiring about each other, shouting and echoing. It was dinner time, but how could we take food in that horrible bowl? But luckily enough, it was the day for serving meat! Once a fortnight, or once a month, they served meat, and as luck

203The Bengali word for snacks made by deep-frying round pieces of dough, called 'poories in Hindi.

204An Indian sweet dish.

205The Marwadis (Rajasthanis) were patriotic businessmen who often supported such movements with charity. In this case, they were supplying food to the Indian freedom fighters lodged in prison.

206Batons.

20715-16.

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would have it, we had arrived on that very day! But the problem was - where to wash? We wanted to wash ourselves, our hands and feet. There was a sort of a drain there where a thin flow of water ran along, so we had to be satisfied with that. Imagine, we had to wash even our mouth there!

After all this, we went and sat down on a pavement sort of thing that was built all around, and some of the prisoners working there served us rice and meat. The meat was hardly recognisable; it was only gravy with the smell of meat; and in that huge amount, two or three pieces of meat floating. Somehow we gulped it down to appease our hunger. The rice - oh, if only you had seen it! Very often, there were cockroaches floating in it or even mice. You know, it was the old, rotten rice that had been stored in shops for months and was bought by the jail authorities at a very low cost. And they couldn't even afford to clean it, the quantity being great (cooked for about a thousand prisoners). Luckily for me, I didn't get any mouse, but cockroaches, I did. Then there was a vegetable dish that was very coarse. They collected all sorts of leaves and rotten cabbages and old vegetables and threw them into big cauldrons of boiling water. The dal²⁰⁸ was nothing but water - no oil, no spices, nothing. Only to show that they had cooked it, they made a little oil float on it. And anybody who was 'lucky' got a small bit of a chilli and he would shout: "Ah, lonka pe chhi (I've got a chilli)!"

In the morning, we had the famous 'lapsi'²⁰⁹ that Sri Aurobindo has so wonderfully described. It was really tasteless and horrible. As for sleeping accommodations, while there was total room for about a hundred persons, we were three hundred of us, in our section alone! So we spread a blanket on the floor, which served as a mattress, and with the other we covered ourselves. And space being little, we slept huddled together. As for nature's call, we had to go just behind the room used for sleeping. So you can imagine the abominable stink! Oh, it was simply horrible!

208Lentils, usually cooked with spices.

209A kind of gruel made from broken wheat.

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Then they began allowing relatives and friends to visit us, and they all came and asked us, "What do you want? "What do you need? Tell us." We said, "We don't want anything much, but give us dhotis and a few cakes of soap." We had no soap there. So they brought them very gladly and we too received them very gladly.

There was also, along with us, Mahatma Gandhi's eldest son who was a very nice fellow. He used to receive, from time to time, parcels from the big shots, and he would share the contents with all of us. Poor fellow! We were so many that he could give us only a litle bit of the food stuff: chilli pickles, sweets, etc. He was a sort of a leader amongst us.

One day, a big officer came to enquire about the jail conditions, and we revolted and threatened to go on a hunger strike. He said, "Be patient, be patient, I'll look into the matter." Suddenly, after a week or two, there were revolutionary changes. We began getting fish, vegetables, curry, halva, rice, chapatti, etc. for all the four meals -we were fed with a prince's diet! But the only condition was that we would have to cook it all ourselves. So much the better, for plenty of us knew cooking. And, moreover, we got ghee, oil, spices, everything - everything we wanted. Every day was like a veritable marriage feast. We could not believe that such a transformation had taken place. Of course, there was a purpose behind all this opulence - the government wanted to please Gandhi. In our batch of prisoners, one of my friends, who was from the same village as I, became the chief cook and I became his assistant! He was a very nice fellow, worked very hard the whole day long. What a change there was!

Then there was talk that the government would reduce our sentence from seven months to two months, and would let us go. So naturally there was a consultation as to who would go first, as everybody was eager to go home. Some went out first, promising that they'd plead for us! Then the time came for our chief cook to go, and the burden fell on me! I became the head cook and my young friend, the boy from my college, became my assistant. This went on for about fifteen days. We enjoyed the post for we were given immense freedom. We saw the

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whole jail system. I was very much respected due to my role of chief cook. So the prison life was quite easy and we all felt almost as if at home.

After cooking, we usually had a swim in the pond there, then went up on the terrace and sang and danced. As for brushing our teeth, we had no toothpaste or brush, but we discovered two or three neem trees²¹⁰ in the garden, and soon the whole garden was uprooted! We saw the place where prisoners were whipped. Their hands and feet would be tied, and they would be put into a type of frame and whipped mercilessly. Fortunately, we didn't actually see anybody being treated thus. We saw the hospital. We didn't see the place where Sri Aurobindo was held prisoner, for we weren't interested. Those days, Mahatma Gandhi was our hero. We saw other places also.

There was quite a hierarchy amongst the prisoners. For example, a banker would become the head due to a long period of imprisonment which had brought him experience, and an uneducated thief would get the lowest rank, etc. Gandhi's son even had a special servant who cooked strictly vegetarian food for him and did all the other work for him.

One incident I still remember, and I still repent over it. One day, I was cooking fish and a 'low-class' prisoner came and pinched two fish. I, in the foolishness of my youth, reported it to the superintendent. And the unfortunate fellow got such a thrashing... Oh God! You see, I still haven't forgotten it. What was the use of my reporting? So what if he took two fish from two hundred or three hundred of them? But all this didn't strike me then.

We even held pujas²¹¹ there. We invited Subhash Chandra Bose and he came for the puja. C. R. Das also was invited, but I don't know whether he was there. Anyway, we had good fun during those two months of prison life.

Oh, I forgot to mention one thing. When the Non-Cooperation

210Azadirachta Indica - a miracle tree with many medicinal applications. Native to and grown everywhere in India.

211Special rituals for worship and prayers on holy days, especially during Durga Puja.

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Movement was going on and I hadn't the slightest idea of taking it up, and while some other students were taking part in it, my niece (with whom I went to England later), was in a women's hostel then (she was in second year intermediate, and I in the first year), and I went to see her. We were talking and she suddenly said, "Mama, if you had been to prison, we would have been so proud of you!" You ladies, how you can fire up men's ambitions! Thus the seed was sown; then you know all that followed. I do not know the reaction of my mother.

But of one thing I am certain, that this prison life was a turning point in my life. Before that, I had an ideal but it wasn't very strong. In the jail life, though it was simple and happy, I got something there that made me decide to be serious now. What was in my mind began to take a definite shape. It was a real turning point in my life.

After coming out of prison, I went to see my nieces, nephews and all other relatives. My niece simply burst out with, "Mama, you've grown fat. We thought you would become thin and depressed, that you would be thinner. But you look so happy." In spite of it, they would not believe that we had actually enjoyed life in the jail.

In prison, there was another interesting thing. We could get anything by bribing the guards. They would hide bidis, cigarettes, etc. in their turbans and get them for us. There was quite a bit of gambling, once we could flatter the guards. And one of the chief occupations or enjoyments was playing cards. So this was the big adventure. Quite a romantic sort of life!

I continued to work for the Non-Cooperation Movement even after coming out of prison. In April, we were to observe the jallianwalla Bagh day - that meant fasting. My mother didn't know anything about it. She asked me to eat and I said, "I won't take anything." She got worried - you know how mothers are! "Why, why, my son, are you not well?" "No, I am all right, but I'm not hungry." Then, at noon, I felt very hungry and was somehow bearing it, when my mother came with some bael sorbet.²¹² "You'll have to take this!" Really, we are not even supposed to drink water, but after such a lot of coaxing

212 A drink made of the pulp of bad fruit (Aegle marmelos), mixed with lime juice.

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on her part and temptation on mine, I took it. But the hunger was not appeased, though I felt much better. I tied a towel tight round my stomach - you know, that's how they used to fast - and somehow the day passed. Then at night I had a good, heavy dinner.