This anthology presents glimpses of Sudhir's life, his memoirs of Sri Aurobindo in the period 1906-1909, The Mother's comments on Sudhir & other revolutionaries
Mona Sarkar
Sri Sudhir Kumar Sarkar “one of the bravest and most fearless sons of the Motherland,” as Sri Nolini Kanta Gupta put it, was among the first batch of revolutionaries that, at the turn of this century, became active under the leadership of Sri Aurobindo. Born in Faridpur (Bogra, now in Bangladesh) on 21st February 1889, he was the son of Dr. Prasanna Kumar Sarkar (Bagchi), an eminent medical practitioner, who was also a close associate of Dr. K. D. Ghosh, Sri Aurobindo’s father in Khulna.
Sudhir was endowed with a strong body; it was a natural gift from god. He could not bear the inequality by which the Europeans enjoyed a high-nosed superiority. Once at school a British inspector’s son, a fellow student insulted Sudhir. Quick to react, he beat the boy up badly and was summoned to court, though he was not yet in his teens. Luckily for Sudhir, the judge was sympathetic and pooh-poohed the whole issue saying: “Perhaps next time you will bring babies in their cradles into the court-room because they quarrel with each other.”
The dauntless and irrepressible youngster could not be moulded into the narrow pattern of the prevailing system of education. Dejected and revolted by its dreary method of teaching, he set fire to his school with the help of a friend. Fortunately not much damage was done. The authorities threatened to remove him from school, but relented.
Sudhir began to absent himself from school, instead he often went to the outskirts of the town to help the poor. This social work gave him ample opportunity to mix with these illiterate villagers and become a part of their life. Hardly fourteen years of age, he was already striving to relieve his countrymen from the agony of subjugation. All his life he would pursue this work with steadfast diligence.
Then came the turning point when in 1905, Bengal was divided by the rulers. This blow struck off, as it were, the Mother’s limbs from Her body and left Her maimed. In the unrest that followed it seemed that a new nation was struggling to break forth from the turmoil and rising to challenge the mighty authority of the British Raj. Sri Aurobindo held the helm of the rising nation and demanded unqualified freedom for India. His speeches and articles inspired the youth of the country to undaunted courage. They felt one with the Motherland, worshiped Her as the Mother and offered their life at Her feet. They were ready to sacrifice all for Her sake. Nothing was dearer to them than the Motherland.
Sudhir was naturally drawn to this new credo. He involved himself fully in the drive for independence. How could he devote his time to studies? His mind was enmeshed in the throes of the revolution. The desperate boy failed in school. Sudhir’s father hoping to keep his son out of the Swadeshi movement sent him to study with his elder brother, who was living in Sahebganj. The year was 1907. This was precisely the opportunity that Sudhir was waiting for. He ran away and joined the staff of Jugantar, a revolutionary newspaper, in Calcutta. There he met Barindra K. Ghose, the younger brother of Sri Aurobindo, who assigned him work on the newspaper. Later he was chosen by Barin to train in revolutionary warfare at Manicktala Garden. He thus became one of a select few in an intrepid group moulded by the laws and rites of Ma Bhavani. Sudhir was initiated into the group only after he had pledged himself with a solemn Oath: Voluntarily drawing blood out of his chest he wrote in red before the image of Mother Kali: “I hereby promise to abide by the laws and rules that govern the revolutionary party, and to follow its strictest norms even at the cost of my life.”
Now for Sudhir nothing was greater than the imperative need to serve the Motherland, to adore Her, even to die for Her. This was the clarion call that Sri Aurobindo had sounded and Sudhir’s inner being responded to it unhesitatingly. Urged on by that inner call, Sudhir plunged into the cauldron of revolutionary activity with fearless determination, brushing aside all comforts of life. He denounced all that resisted the liberation of India. Inspired by the lofty ideals of freedom he found himself amidst some of the most valiant sons of the Motherland, whose courage, devotion and sacrifice for Her have been unparalleled. Although just eighteen years of age, he became a trusted colleague of such notable revolutionaries as Barindra Kumar Ghosh, Ullaskar Dutt, Hemchandra Das, Profulla Chaki, Khudiram Bose, Kanailal Dutt and Satyendranath Bose. Thus was forged the link that shaped Sudhir’s destiny.
Profile of Sudhir K. Sarkar on the eve of transportation
An occasion arose when Sudhir with six other revolutionaries were sent to Jamalpur to punish the anti-social elements who had disturbed the age-old communal harmony of the region. The revolutionaries confronted a huge crowd of rowdies. The police came and arrested the revolutionaries; Sudhir alone managed to escape. When he returned to Calcutta he was lauded as a hero. In the eyes of the leaders he was a brave and dependable fighter. As if in recognition of his capability he was given the opportunity to attend upon Sri Aurobindo. Thus Sudhir lived, studied and worked with Sri Aurobindo as a member of the family. One of his tasks was to deliver letters from Sri Aurobindo to several people in order to raise funds for the revolutionary cause. Sometimes he was entrusted with plans and programmes of the revolution to show them to sympathisers and potential patrons.
In December 1907 Sri Aurobindo went to the Indian National Congress session at Surat. Sudhir accompanied him as his personal attendant and served him as his bodyguard. After the break-up of the Congress he went with Sri Aurobindo in the latter’s lecture tour of Western India.
On April 30th 1908 an attempt was made to assassinate the Muzzafarpore magistrate — Kingsford. The Government decided to crack down on the revolutionaries. On May 10th, Sudhir was arrested in Khulna. Sri Aurobindo and many others had already been apprehended. Finally, thirty-eight were indicted and spent one year in jail as undertrial prisoners in the celebrated Alipore Bomb Case. Their attitude towards life puzzled the jail authorities. They had no fear of punishment or death.
For much of his time in jail, Sri Aurobindo remained in trance, unconcerned about his outward needs. This was a great opportunity for Sudhir, to accomplish the work assigned to him. Faithfully he served his Master.
In August two revolutionaries shot an approver, Naren Goswami in the jail precincts. With the result the swadeshi prisoners were put in solitary confinement. The only place where they could meet and speak with others was the courtroom. Here, Sudhir once threatened to assault a sentry who dared to manhandle Sri Aurobindo.
When judgement was delivered in May 1909, Sri Aurobindo and eighteen others were acquitted; Barin, Sudhir and seventeen others were convicted of waging war against the King and they were sentenced to transportation for life to the Andaman Islands and their property was to be confiscated. Upon appeal to the High Court, this sentence was reduced to seven years, for Sudhir. In the Andamans, the Swadeshi prisoners were subjected to inhuman tortures — the jail officials tried to crush them physically, with compulsory hard labour, tormenting them mentally and morally. Unpalatable food, scarcity of drinking water, a host of abuses, a heap of unthinkable punishments, such was their daily lot. But nothing could break their inner strength; these valiant warriors were sustained by an inner fire. Had not Sri Aurobindo written thus?: “When a young worker in Bengal has to go to jail… 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 this 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.’”
The political prisoners put up a strong resistance. Many tried to escape, some even prepared a time-bomb in those trying conditions. Sudhir was among them. All these movements kept the officials at the Devil’s island busy and worried.
Finally in 1914 Sudhir was transferred to jails on the main land. Four years later on May 22, 1918 finally he was released, having spent ten full years of his blossoming youth in those putrid dungeons. Though free he was a mere breathing skeleton sapped of all vitality. It was a miracle that he survived the ordeal… What sustained him was his undying patriotism, his experience of the Motherland as a living being. This was the source of his inspiration and strength; it gave him courage to make unlimited sacrifices.
In the following years, the Government never left Sudhir alone; their eyes were always on him. To avoid harassment he sometimes went into hiding. But he could never abandon his urge to liberate the Motherland; that was the centre around which his life revolved. Bound by the conditions of his release Sudhir could not openly express his feelings, but secretly he instilled them into the hearts of the next generation of young revolutionaries.
In 1918 when Sudhir got out of prison, the freedom movement had petered out due to Government repression. Almost thirty, Sudhir had to make a living. But he was too independent to work under anyone. He sought to build his life in a different way. With the help of a family friend in Khulna, who provided him with a small amount of capital, he tried his hand at several business ventures, and achieved considerable success. He had the mind of an innovator and pioneer, and the deft hand of a practical man. He went to the forests of Assam to extract Catechu from Accacia trees; he was one of the first to manufacture it on a large scale. He also manufactured large size reinforced concrete pipes for carrying water, a rare enterprise at that time. He also experimented with the constructions of flush toilets with septic tanks. Though he never studied civil or mechanical engineering nor received proper training, many of his projects were highly fruitful. But in these activities Sudhir was not worldly minded nor motivated by profits. Much of the money he earned was channalised towards helping young revolutionaries. He himself always sought to live a simple life.
Sudhir did not marry until he could stand on his own feet. He agreed to marry because an enlightened Kapalik had advised him to do so; it was also a condition laid down by the Government for his release. In the early 1920s he wedded Suniti Devi of Pangsha, Faridpur. In her he found a true friend and guide. It was an extraordinary blessing for him. Highly gifted and a source of inspiration to Sudhir in his dangerous revolutionary activities, she was also a patient mother and a comrade in his spiritual quest.
Suniti Devi often had visions of mystic realities in a state of trance. She was in contact with the Mother and it was the Mother who guided her inwardly although she never came to Pondicherry. The Mother once said that she was a being from a higher plane. She passed away in 1940.
Sudhir Kumar Sarkar
After her passing Sudhir’s only wish was to bring his family to live at the Mother’s feet in Pondicherry. For it is here that he found the culmination of his highest ideals. From 1938 he started coming regularly to Ashram once or twice a year and started many new ventures. In 1943 She granted him his cherished wish to join Her with his family. He surrendered everything to the Mother and settled down in the Ashram with his children.
As the need of the Ashram grew, Sudhir’s professional talents found many expressions. Among his enterprises over the years he introduced were the constructions of flush toilets with septic tanks, the manufacture of hand-made paper, washing soap, lime, dyeing of clothes and the establishment of the pottery. A tireless worker with an indomitable will and an adventurous spirit he became a willing and humble instrument in the Mother’s hands.
In character, Sudhir was simple, unassuming and rustic. What he said he believed and what he believed he practised. There was no division in him, no sense of high and low. Sudhir was always independent in temper and chose to be different from others.
Sudhir was a warrior to the core, but there was also a tender side to his nature, he had the sweetness of heart and childlike disposition that belong to the simple and spiritual. Loving and generous he was always ready to help others. Precisely for this reason he practised homoeopathy; indeed from his childhood he had a passion for homoeopathy. Had Sudhir not been dragged into the Swadeshi movement he was planning to go abroad to learn homoeopathy. During the last years of his prison life, when he was confined alone in the jungle island, he studied books on homoeopathy and learnt the system all by himself. People who were treated by him clearly felt that his diagnosis was always intuitive. The medicines he gave were charged with a power of love and a trust in the triumph of the Grace.
Sudhir was endowed with a fine bodily strength which kept him healthy and joyful. He was a great believer in physical fitness. His solid hands which could easily chop wood with an axe could also skilfully darn a piece of silk.
His intense love for the Mother, in whom he saw the embodiment of his Motherland and his sincerity and integrity made him Her worthy child. Of him the Mother once said, “Sudhir is my true Bhakta”.
Sudhir’s thoughts, dreams and actions all concerned Mother India. He was one of those visionaries who saw India not merely as a geographical or political entity, but as a spirit that was an emanation of the Divine. For him the concept of Mother India as a Divinity was not a figure of speech but a living experience. Sudhir fervently believed in Sri Aurobindo’s vision of a united India. His ardent wish was always to see a strong India and the Mother’s kingdom established on earth.
Sudhir passed away on April 27th, in 1974 at the age of 85. He was at once a yogi and a Bhakta; he was as Jayaprakash Narayan observed “a lion among men”. May his life inspire the youth of today. To remember him is to remember the idealism and spirit of sacrifice that once inspired a chosen few and through them electrified the multitudes of this country. To remember him is to remember the faith they had in India’s greatness, in her mission of the spiritual regeneration of mankind. To remember him is to remember the noble vision for which they lived and died, the vision of their Master, Sri Aurobindo.
(We present here some interesting episodes in Sudhir’s adventurous life. Some were written by Sudhir himself;[6] others were narrated by him to his children and friends. Mona has recounted them from memory. The incidents written by Sudhir are indicated by an (S) at their end; those by Mona, by an (M). There are others based on reminiscences of persons who came in contact with Sudhir.)
The Riots
About the incident at Jamalpur [7] Sudhir observed:
When all efforts for a compromise failed and the disguise of the seven revolutionaries proved futile they had no other option but to open fire with the pistols they carried in order to defend themselves. Their orders were to aim only below the knees, and that too only in dire necessity. Soon the police arrived and the seven were cordoned off and arrested on charges of murder. Sudhir gave them the slip taking with him the firearms of his friends to lessen their trouble. Mingling in the crowd, foiling the plans of the police with his ingenuity he was far away by nightfall. Tired and thirsty he took shelter in a cobbler’s hut. Later on, he moved homeward in the disguise of a cobbler. The only thought which gnawed at his heart was that he had escaped alone, leaving his colleagues behind. What a shame! But back home in Calcutta, the leaders cleared all his doubts consoling him by saying: “If everyone gets caught, how will the work continue? You have done well to join us again; what is more you have given slip to the British”.
(M)
Bodyguard of Sri Aurobindo
With Sudhir Sarkar as his bodyguard, Sri Aurobindo went to the Surat Congress meeting. After accomplishing their work in Chandernagore Barinda, Upenda and others proceeded to Surat. There Barinda, Upenda, Ullasda and others created the pandemonium at the Surat meeting and then returned to Calcutta.
Upon reaching home I heard that Sri Aurobindo, along with Sudhir Sarkar, had left for Bombay, Baroda, Pune, Amravati and other places to proclaim nationalism. Later he returned to Calcutta.
On the 5th or 6th December Sri Aurobindo started for Midnapore. Dada (Ashwini K. Bhattacharjee) sent Sudhir Sarkar with Sri Aurobindo, because from Midnapore Sri Aurobindo would have to make arrangements for going to Surat Congress meeting.
— Upendra Chandra Bhattacharjee
Printing ‘No Compromise’ and ‘Bhavani Mandir’
After my return from Baroda the second time, I printed with the help of Sudhir Sarkar of Khulna and a Marathi youth known as Joshi, two booklets No Compromise and Bhavani Mandir written by Sri Aurobindo in his hand-writing. We worked late at night at the “Gupta Press Panjika”, having secured the permission of its owner.
— Barindra K. Ghosh
With Vishnu Bhaskar Lele
I received a letter from Sri Aurobindo saying that Vishnu Bhaskar Lele would be arriving and we were to take good care of him. We felt that a Sadhu had no part in our scheme of things and so we looked on him with distrust. In addition, Lele-ji demanded of me that I massage him with white clay and bathe him, the water being drawn from a deep well. This, he said, was to enable me to practise Brahmacharya, of which proper service to the Guru was an indispensable part. Although I did not like him, because of Sri Aurobindo’s instructions I adjusted myself to Lele-ji’s demands.
Sri Aurobindo in Surat Congress
One night during dinner, Lele-ji said to Barin, Ullas and others, “If you continue with your bombs and pistols before realising the Mother Bhavani, you will hasten your own downfall”. Barin answered, “When we see vultures sucking blood out of our Mother’s body, how can we sit down to meditate?”
(S)
Co-prisoner with Sri Aurobindo
In practice I have seen very few men like Sudhir who can endure by adopting a “don’t care” attitude.
I have seen many who have desperately fought with bombs and pistols, but none was so courageous as Sudhir. I never saw him step back. Anyone would shrink back out of natural fear when bombs exploded before him, but Sudhir would not even blink. He did not seem to have a trace of fear in his consciousness. That is why he came out of all the difficult situations.
I remember an incident that took place during the trial in the Alipore Sessions Court. We Swadeshis were herded into a cage in the courtroom and all sorts of evidence was demanded from us. At that time a sentry on duty noticed that Sri Aurobindo looked quite unconcerned and unmindful of all that was happening. The sentry got upset and shook him roughly. Sudhir, seeing the sentry handle Sri Aurobindo so roughly, jumped from the gallery where he was seated. Seething in anger, with his raised hands shackled in handcuffs, he was about to strike the sentry on his head. We were alerted by the loud thump made by his jump and were shocked to see Sudhir raging in anger and about to hit the policeman. Some of us shouted, “Sudhir, stop! What are you doing? Stop! Stop and calm down!” Luckily we managed to push him aside. Sudhir spewing out fire, muttered to himself: “What audacity that fellow has to touch Sri Aurobindo! I will finish him off!” Furious, he tried to wriggle away from us in order to hit the sentry. Had we not intervened in time to stop him we might have witnessed a murder in the courtroom. With his strong and stalwart body, a blow from those metal handcuffs could have killed that sentry. Fortunately we were saved that day. Sudhir remained completely unperturbed after that storm passed by. His only regret was that he had not been able to take revenge on that fellow who had dared to manhandle Sri Aurobindo.
Such were his nerves of steel. I have never seen Sudhir shrink with fear, never in my living memory. He would jump into any fray, not caring for the consequences. His life has been full of adventures and it is unbelievable how the Grace has plucked him out of all dangers. How brutally he and the others were tortured in the Andamans! It is beyond man’s imagination. What man has done unto man — and that too by supposedly civilised people.
(Recounted by Nolini Kanta Gupta to Mona)
Sri Aurobindo’s sick attendant
Arabindo was in the No. 1 ward of the hospital in the charge of the senior hospital assistant. Arabindo had a sick-attendant. Sudhir was his sick-attendant. I saw him there. Arabindo was treated upstairs.
*
Then there is the case of Sudhir Kumar Sarkar. We find that this prisoner was allowed to be in the hospital, and that he acted as the “Attendant” upon Aurobindo Ghosh. His name is not entered in any register. He had no business to be there. We are of opinion, in these circumstances, that the medical officer did take certain liberties of the bomb case undertrial prisoners into the hospital, or allowed them to be there, who were not suffering from any serious illness.
(Statements of the Hospital Prison staff in court)
Misleading the Witness
An interesting scene comes to my mind. Nolini and I were the chief actors in this drama. To identify Nolini in the Alipore Bomb Case, the postmaster of Joshidi and the level-crossing pointman had been summoned to the Alipore court. Some forty of us accused were made to stand in two rows for the identification parade. I positioned myself just behind Nolini and told him to look directly at the identifier, while I made frightened gestures and avoided his eyes, pretending to be the guilty one. The ruse worked. The witness identified me as Nolini Kanta Gupta. To the utter chagrin of the honourable judge, the whole court burst out laughing. Even the lawyers and barristers on both sides could not suppress their merriment. Perhaps my expert acting annoyed the judge, but he had to acquit Nolini for lack of evidence.[8]
No Statement by Sri Aurobindo
When the approver Noren Goswami was assassinated in the Alipore Jail, Sri Aurobindo was in a separate cell. We sent Barin-da to him, asking for guidance. Sri Aurobindo said that he was not going to say anything. Following his example Nolini also made no comment. But we followed Barin-da’s lead and gave statements making ourselves out as patriots and revolutionaries. As a result, in spite of the inadmissibility of the evidence given by Noren Goswami, the judge convicted us, transporting some of us and sending others to the gallows.
Sri Aurobindo’s Servitor
When asked about his prison days, Sudhir-da’s face used to light up. “Oh how to describe those days! Like dreams of happiness they were. The constant company of my Lord! I used to serve him, sponge his body, bathe him. I used to do everything.” Then Sudhir-da used to spread his palms before my eyes, “Look, these mine hands still remember those touches. How soft was my Lord’s body! from his eyes affection and benevolence seemed to rain incessantly on us.”
— Shobha Datta
The British Government was secretly shipping us off to the Andamans in small batches. There the jail authorities at once segregated the political prisoners from the ordinary convicts perhaps to prevent them from catching fire from our sparks of revolution. After the assassination of Noren Goswami in the Alipore Jail, the authorities had realised how dangerous we were.
“Aura jante perechhilo, amra ki cheege — They had come to know of what metal we were made.” They seemed to be somewhat afraid of us and at first treated us with sufficient consideration. But gradually their innate tyranny began to manifest itself.
Coir Pounding and Rope Making
Each prisoner was made to do coir pounding and rope making. It was the first work that all had to learn. The dry coconut husk had to be pealed off; then soaked in water and thrashed. The fibres were then separated in small strands and rubbed on the floor to be finally weaved into a rope. It was a tough and rough job. Our hands were bruised and bleeding. But at any cost, the length of the rope fixed for the day had to be finished. Sometimes we could not even fold our stiffened and bruised palms to put a morsel of food in our mouth.
Oil -Mill
Our jobs used to change. We were made to work at the dreaded oil-mill. Usually a bullock or a horse is made to turn the grinding mill. But in the Andamans men were yoked to the handle of the turning wheel instead of bullocks. Even bullocks plodding along all day, could not turn out more than 16 lbs of oil. Yet each one of us was forced to yield 30 lbs of oil daily. Sometimes three of us were yoked together and the demand then was to grind out 80 lbs. The work started at 6.00 in the morning and continued till 6 in the evening. It would amount to running round and round nearly 40 miles a day with that heavy yoke on our shoulders and the jamadar shouting at us, “run, run, run faster.” The time for our meal and rest was shortened to a few minutes, and then back we went to work. For if we did not finish our daily quotas, our punishment was — no food, work at night and a shower of unmentionable abuses by the jailers. This grinding was one of the toughest jobs and all the prisoners dreaded it. But all without exception had to do it for a certain period. Even Barin-da was not spared, though he had a weak body and suffered from malaria. Often the prisoners, though tired themselves, would lend a helping hand to a suffering brother who was about to collapse. We had developed a lot of fellow feeling among ourselves, but sometimes the officer in charge would have the tired man bound to the yoke and goad the others to run around dragging him along bruised and helpless. What man can do to man! For us those drops of oil trickling out as a result of the grinding were no more drops of oil but drops of our blood.
The cellular jails – Andamans
In the Andamans the authorities tried their best to ruin us physically and to break our morale. We would say, “We refuse to abide by your prison rules!” And they would suspend us against the wall, our legs, waists and hands in fetters. They would torment us in that fashion for long eight hours at a stretch, for days together. Although suspended in this way, our compatriot Ullas-da (Ullaskar Dutt) would break into songs and produce music by banging the shackles on the walls. His joyous outbursts would make us all forget our anguish. When the authorities observed this, they separated us and threw us into solitary cells. Thus, we were deprived of company and books.
Stolen Envelopes
After a few years the Sergeant General relaxed some of the hardships imposed on us. He arranged for us to come out of the jail and work separately on different islands. The Divisional Officer was an Irish gentleman who took me to the Viper Island, gave me books and some training and put me to work on a cotton plantation. His house was always open to me. I used to go to his office, and quietly pick up some stationary from his desk and send it to Barin-da. He would write detailed reports of our ill-treatment and post them in those envelopes which bore the officers’ seal. Letters would thus find a way out of the Devil’s island and reach Calcutta without being checked. On the information given in those letters Surendranath Banerjee used to base his fiery speeches and raise storms in the Legislative Council. The jail authorities were at a loss to understand how all their secret misdeeds were known to the outside world. Many English and Bengali newspapers began to publish details of the atrocities committed on the exiled revolutionaries. The whole country seethed with resentment.
Eating Fodder
Sudhir-da once told me: “Here is an incident which may appear very trivial to you, but it occupies a significant place in my life. I was sent to the Andaman jails along with others. We were given very meagre food and if we asked for more we would be whipped. One day, the food given was very scanty and our hunger that day was awful. After the hard days’ labour we could not bear any more. Driven by our hunger, we ate the cow fodder that lay in our reach. Somehow the news spread in the jail. The jailor grew extremely nervous. If any of us died from eating the fodder, he would be given a ‘show cause’ notice by the Government. The doctors gave us purgatives, examined our stool and confirmed the presence of fodder. The jailor was repentant, but our ration of food was not increased even a bit. This bitter experience of jail life taught us the lesson that we should never waste food. And after that, we never did so.”
(Anon.)
Losing a Friend
Mr. Indubhushan Roy, accused of throwing a bomb at the Mayor of Chandernagore and overturning the car of the Governor, came here to serve his twenty-year jail sentence; later, however, his sentence was remitted to ten years. He was kept in the cell next to mine. We used to communicate with each other in a code language by knocking on our common wall — something like morse code.
One day Indubhushan’s knocks spelt out the following message: “I don’t want to live as a slave of the British. I shall come back…” That night he: hanged himself from the ventilator of his cell. He had made a rope by tearing strips out of his prison uniform.
In the seclusion of my prison cell I shed tears on this proud hero, saying, “Farewell, my friend!”
Hunger Strike
Noni Bhattacharya, a student of Hugli College, joined us. He had thrown a bomb at the Inspector General of Police! He was still in his teens then. One day, protesting against the atrocities of the warders, he tore off his convict’s uniform and moved about stark naked. The Chief Commissioner himself came on the scene and appealed to him. “Mr. Noni Babu, you come from a respectable family. Why don’t you wear your clothes?”
Prompt came Noni’s reply, “I don’t count you as human beings. You people don’t know how to behave with a political patriot.”
After this Noni went on a fast. We too joined him and refused food. The authorities used to tie us up and force feed us with egg-flip (a mixture of milk and eggs) by means of a rubber pipe passed through our nose. A sergeant general was brought from Bombay to enforce strict discipline; for a while inside the jail we were fighting for our rights as political prisoners, those of us who were kept outside were trying to escape from the Andamans. The usual practice was to build secretly a wooden raft, pile it with coconuts for provision and then set out for the open sea with the help of the tide. Some tried to reach Burma while others made for the coast of Africa. British patrol boats used to be sent out looking for them and almost all were recaptured. They would be tried again for this new offence and punished, with additional prison terms. But all the same these escape-attempts kept the authorities on tenterhooks.
At last the commissioner announced that anybody giving information about these secret attempts of the freedom fighters would be released from the Andamans. But surprisingly, inspite of such a lure of freedom, no convict ever divulged our secret plans.
Time-Bomb
For a few years the officers remained careful about us, but then they relaxed a little. We then started meeting on Sundays in very small groups. There was a proposal to make a bomb with the medicines we got and kill some of the Jail’s tyrants. Upen-da who had knowledge about bomb-making offered to do the job. Even in those trying conditions we succeeded in making a time-bomb. But one of the local prisoners betrayed us and the news reached the authorities, before we could use the bomb.
“Think of Me”
Life thus went on at the Andamans. Yet we noticed that we had somewhere deep within us a source of quiet strength, a peace which always remained with us. This helped us to brave the fury of the authorities. It was this faith in the heart that Sri Aurobindo was with us that enabled us to live on even in that hell. It was this mantra, “Think of me, I shall be always with you” which sustained us.
Other Jails in India
We continued with our efforts to escape from the Andamans. The ordinary convicts too tried to follow our example. The British Government was worried. They began, under any pretext whatsoever, to send us back to the mainland to be lodged in different Indian jails. I was sent to Nagpur via Madras. Once again my life was confined to the prison walls.
The Kapalik
In 1918 Sudhir was interned on a lonely island in a river, isolated from the company of people. The island was densely forested and inhabited by ferocious animals. There Sudhir lived immersed in the immensities of nature. A lover of nature, he would roam about the forest armed with a stout stick to fend off the attacks of wild and dangerous animals. He also passed his time in the study of homoeopathy. But Sudhir was not happy to remain there as a prisoner and he would cry out openly to God like a child. One night, when he was feeling very morose, he heard a beautiful voice from the depth of the forest. This haunting and melodious voice was singing, “O my comrade, can you not hold the helm of the boat?” Sudhir was entranced. Slowly the voice grew louder as the singer approached Sudhir’s cottage. Sudhir opened his door and stepped out into the moonlit forest. A towering Kapalik — a Tantrik devotee — appeared in the clearing. Spotting Sudhir, he asked, “O Brahmin, will you give me something to eat?” Sudhir was astonished. “How does the Kapalik know that I am a Brahmin,” he wondered. “I threw away my sacred thread while I was imprisoned in the Andamans”. Sudhir had finished his supper, so he had no food ready. Apologetically he said, “Kindly wait, I will cook something for you”. The Kapalik replied, “No, it is late; I cannot wait. But I will come back on the night of the next full moon to taste your food. Now I have to go.”
Puzzled but thrilled, Sudhir returned to his cottage and went to bed.
Sudhir was impressed by the awesome Tantric, though in general he did not have much respect for Sadhus. For during the great uprising of 1905, it had been rumoured that a lakh and a half armed naga sannyasis, a fierce sect of naked sadhus, would come down from the hills and chase the Englishmen out of India. Sudhir waited for them, but despite his fervent hope they never came. Infuriated, Sudhir could no longer trust or respect Sadhus, whether naked or clad in ochre-coloured robes. To him they were all cheats and rogues.
Sudhir once said that whenever something in life repelled him, or appeared to be useless, later it would always reveal to him its hidden benign aspect and force him to accept it as if a secret Will wanted him to be free of all prejudices, and bigotry. Something similar was happening this time too. Despite his reservations, Sudhir was eagerly waiting the return of the Kapalik.
On the fateful full-moon night, the whole forest was bathed in soft white light. Late in the night the Kapalik at last appeared. Smiling he said, “Perhaps you thought that I would not keep my promise. Let me see what you have cooked for me?” Sudhir offered him some Khichuri, a salty porridge of rice and dal. The Kapalik poured it into a bowl, got up and bellowed a loud ululating “Oo-oo, oo-oo-oo!” A huge brown dog came bounding towards him. The Kapalik sat down to eat. The dog also sat down beside him, and started eating from the same bowl. The Kapalik sometimes lovingly entreated the dog to eat, sometimes restrained the dog with his left hand. But the dog would not be put off for long. Together they finished the supper.
After the meal the Kapalik spoke. “I have eaten well after a long time,” he said. “O Brahmin, no one will be able to make you a prisoner for long.” Sudhir mused, “How does he know that I am a prisoner?” Then putting his hand inside his shoulder pouch, the Kapalik took out a small packet of sacred ashes (Vibhuti). He gave it to Sudhir and told him to keep it with him. “No harm will ever come to you now,” he said, “Keep always a dog as your pet. Everyday put aside part of your lunch and dinner, and feed it to him. This will benefit you”. He continued, “Listen, if you are asked, do consent to marriage.” Sudhir was dumbfounded. Recently he had received a letter from home saying that the government would release him only on condition that he would marry and settle down to a family life. But he did not want to marry and settle down until independence of India was achieved. Was this strange advice of the Tantric a sign that God wanted him to marry?
The Kapalik rose and said good bye to Sudhir and with his fearsome dog companion, he walked away into the dark forest.
As Sudhir agreed to marry, he was released. The other predictions of the Kapalik were also fulfilled. The ashes protected him in many difficult and dangerous years during which he had several brushes with death. Twenty years later, in 1938, when Sudhir went to Sri Aurobindo Ashram, he sent the ashes to Sri Aurobindo. Sri Aurobindo accepted them and sent word to Sudhir, “Now that you are here, you will no longer need them.”
The Pathan
Sudhir had just been released from jail. He was jobless and did not know how he would earn his bread. One day he visited the shop of his cousin brother and they started chatting. Suddenly a gigantic Pathan entered the shop. Thrusting a huge palm in front of Sudhir’s cousin, he ordered, “Give me!” Startled and trembling the cousin brought out an eight anna coin from his pocket and put it in the huge palm. Without a word the man turned and left. Sudhir was curious. The cousin told him, “He is a dangerous fellow. He murdered someone in Afghanistan and escaped to India. He comes here and asks for money from all the shop-keepers. If we give the money, we are safe; otherwise it could be very dangerous for us”.
Sudhir got angry with his cousin. “Why are you tolerating this fellow?” he said, “You are so many Bengalees here; he is only one Pathan. Can’t you tackle him together? At least go to the police.” The cousin replied “Once an owner of a shop here tried to stop him. The Pathan threatened him with a drawn knife. Since then no one has bothered him. The ruffian has warned us “Go to the police at the cost of your life!” Sudhir said “Okay, tomorrow I will pay him. You don’t worry.” But the cousin became very upset. He told Sudhir, “Please don’t come here tomorrow; you need not do anything”. Casually Sudhir answered “I am not going to do anything.”
Next day Sudhir reached his cousin’s shop at about the same time. Soon the Pathan arrived and demanded money. Sudhir, who was seated, got up and approached the Pathan with his hand in his pocket. He told him, “You want money? Here, take it.” In a flash he brought out his hand from his pocket and slapped the Pathan fiercely. The Pathan fell down stunned. He was utterly surprised and could not believe his eyes. Before he could pick himself up Sudhir rushed at him and asked, “Want some more?” and hit him again. The Pathan regained his feet and headed to the door. From there he growled, “Come out on the street. I will stab you to death.” Sudhir told him in a thunderous voice, “Get out of here! Don’t you know I have been to the Andamans (Kalapani)? I will strangle you with my bare hands.” The Pathan simply fled.
All the owner’s of the shop were deeply disturbed. “What have you done!” they exclaimed! “You have not only endangered your own life but ours as well. How will you get out now?” Sudhir replied to them, “Had he wanted to kill me, he would have tried to do it here and now, not afterwards. He is a coward. He will never come back here again to bother you fellows.” So saying, Sudhir left the shop. And actually the Pathan never returned; he simply vanished. No one ever saw him in that area again.
The Naga Sanyasis
Once while travelling in North India, Sudhir was waiting for the train at a small station. The train pulled in, crowded with people. Sudhir got up on the train at the last minute. His only luggage was a small bed-roll. The compartment of the coach he boarded was occupied by a large number of sanyasis, a sect of fierce and proud naked ascetics. The Naga sanyasis had spread their bedding and were comfortably lying down. There was no extra space, but Sudhir could not get down from the train for it had started running. He requested a Naga sanyasi who was lying down, “Please make a little room for me”. The sanyasi growled, “This compartment belongs to us. You Bengali chap, go to another compartment”. Sudhir got annoyed and told him, “I too have purchased a ticket, so do not trouble me. Give me a place to sit.” But the Naga sanyasi refused and gave a rude reply. Sudhir got angry. He pulled the sanyasi’s bedding from beneath his head and threw it out of the window, then shoved the sanyasi aside and made other hapless passengers, who were kept standing, sit down in the space vacated, and he himself sat on a metal box. All the Naga sanyasis in the compartment were furious and rushed at Sudhir, who was helplessly outnumbered. But Sudhir did not get frightened. He sat coolly in that corner and warned them, “Whoever touches me will be a dead man”. The sanyasis tried to provoke him into a fight and were puzzled at his behaviour, but Sudhir remained calm. One old Naga sanyasi tried to mediate and pacify his angry companions, but they were keen to regain their prestige. At last their leader managed to control them and bring the quarrel to an end. Still Sudhir remained alert and did not sleep throughout the night. In the morning when the train reached the destination, Sudhir got down and left. How he managed to remain unhurt in the midst of such a big crowd of Naga sanyasis is really a miracle.
(Sudhir has narrated the following unusual experience to several people at different times. The details may vary; but the substance is like this):
A Supernatural Phenomenon
One evening in Khulna when the days’ hustle and bustle had subsided and the conch-shells were announcing the time for evening prayers, Sudhir and his three brothers heard repeated screams coming from the west side of their house. The gallant brothers rushed to the spot, found the gate open and entered. Suddenly the gate shut behind them, but no one was around! They tried to force the gate open but it would not budge. Left with no option, they walked towards the courtyard. Lo! full-size bricks were flying across the open space, coming from outside and over the wall. Cautiously they moved towards the servants’ quarters, for they suspected that the servants were behind the strange mischief. And they found the servants shaking and cold and unable to figure out what was happening. The brothers headed to the main building; there they heard the upstairs doors and windows bashing open and shut. Puzzled and confused, they went upstairs and discovered the old house holder, his wife and his daughter-in-law cowering in a corner of the room. Seeing the young men they regained their confidence, but not for long for the commotion continued. By now everyone was frightened to death excepting one who had come back from the dreaded cellular jails of the Andamans, Sudhir Sarkar, to whom the emotion of fear was unknown.
Sudhir listened as the trio spoke of their plight, of being physically assaulted by some invisible malevolent spirit. Unable to escape, they had resigned themselves to its molestations without any hope of survival.
Worse followed worse. Down with a thud came the noise of a big photo of the grandfather of the house, crashing into bits. The family accountant who had hid himself was hunted down by the spirits and chased upstairs along with the servants. There was no respite for anybody. A heavy chest, which four people can barely lift was levitating all over the place, threatening to smash the hapless fellows under its weight.
Suddenly the bizarre events stopped and there was a strange silence. The atmosphere was no longer heavy with menace and oppression. For some time nothing happened. They waited, not knowing what to do. But the old man was hungry and so he sat down to eat. Suddenly, as if from nowhere, a big pot of salt flew across the kitchen and overturned on his meal. Panic-stricken, the group decided to go out of the house. But then a vegetable cutter came flying by, ready to chop anyone who moved. Everyone lay flat, seeking for shelter against this calamity, their blood froze in terror. Again the heavy chest began levitating. At last the fearful demonstrations of the malicious spirit stopped. Everyone fled from the house. Frantically they talked among themselves, trying to figure out the reason for this terrible attack on them. Then the accountant said, “when the heavy chest levitated upwards, I had a doubt. For I know that the master is keeping there his dead son’s burnt navel as a last memento.”
Hearing this grisly tale, Sudhir decided to go back into the haunted house, hell broke loose when they tried to open the chest. Then they collected the navel and immersed it in the Ganges, performing all the last rites required. Thus ended the terror. And there also ended the sceptic in Sudhir. Realising the folly of the doubting human minds, Sudhir now believed in the existence of the unseen and its mysterious power.
The Puffed Rice
Sometime around 1930 Sudhir-da was putting up with his younger brother Sushil in Calcutta. On hearing the news of his arrival, I went there and met him. He told me, “I am going to Dakshineswar on Sunday. Would you like to come with me?” I accepted the invitation.
On Sunday morning we started. Pointing towards a shop selling rice and paddy, Sudhir-da told me, “Please get three packets of puffed rice.” He gave me the needed money and I bought them.
We were about to do justice to the contents when Sudhir-da said, “Look, those little boys are picking bits of food out of the dust-bin and eating them. Do one thing. Go and give them these packets of puffed rice. Poor chaps, let them survive this morning at least by taking some food.”
A Shop for Shoes
Another day Sudhir-da asked me to accompany him to Barabazar, the famous trade centre of Calcutta. “Listen”, he said, “at last I have decided to do some profitable business in Calcutta itself. I have seen the site and am going to take possession of it now.” We went to a spacious room on the first floor of a building at the Harrison Road crossing. The arrangements for rent were finalised with the Marwari owner. After we left and came down to the street, Sudhir told me, “I am going to sell shoes. Look, I have printed hand-bills.” He produced a handful and showed them to me. I read, “This shoe shop is run by a politically oppressed, educated brahmin chap just released from the Andamans Jail.” The shoe business ran well for a few months, but then business tapered off. After a few years he told me “I am folding up the shoe business.” When I asked why, he replied, “I used to sell shoes on credit, but I couldn’t recover the money, so I was running the business at a loss.” Smiling, he added “Let it go. At least it is a consolation that the poor benefited by wearing new chappels for a while.”
— Tejen Mukherjee
The flood
About 60 years ago there was a flood in Khulna after heavy rainfall. Khulna was flanked on the east by the river Rupsa and on the north by the Bhairab. Both of them were big rivers. Owing to the rains the rivers were in spate and the city and its suburbs were submerged under water. All the mud houses had collapsed and brick-built houses had their ground-floors under water. Our house was a two-storey building. Young volunteers brought old people, young children and ailing persons from all corners of the city and left them safe in our house. This rescue operation went on throughout the night. Towards the morning, I saw a young man carrying an old lady on his shoulder, holding her up and wading through chest-high water. He brought her to our house. Later I came to know that he was Sudhir Sarkar. As long as the flood raged, Sudhir, along with his volunteer helpers, supplied food and medicine to the needy and succoured the endangered people.
Preparing Freedom Fighters
After the floods abated, he caught me one day on the street and took me to his house. There he placed his hand on my shoulders. “Do you want to be a freedom fighter?” he asked me, then he added, “But you cannot be a freedom fighter with such a thin body.” Later on, Sudhir-da’s nephew Sailen, who was my classmate, told me that his uncle was a revolutionary, recently released from the Andamans.
At that time members of the revolutionary parties formed cadres from young people in the schools, colleges, clubs and libraries.
I too was associated with the revolutionaries and got the opportunity to work with them. Sudhir-da never talked to me openly about revolution and freedom fighting, even though he was our neighbour. Then suddenly one day he visited our house, called me aside and advised me: “If you want to save yourself from the clutches of the police, be careful of your movements.” I was astonished to say the least. How did Sudhir-da know that I was mixing with the revolutionaries? But there was no doubt that out of his affection and love for me, he was warning me of the impending danger. Whenever anybody, owing to his connection with the revolutionaries, was captured by the police, Sudhir-da enquired about his family and his difficulties. He always extended a helping hand.
When I became a little older, Sudhir-da advised me how to avoid the police and how to open a club to gather new recruits, I was told that we should choose Government officials and Britishers as the president and important executive members of the club. We ought to meet those officials regularly to avoid the suspicion of the police.
We started one such club. Sudhir-da told us to learn boat rowing! He said that rowing boats in big rivers against waves would give us physical strength and mental courage. I started a rowing club. Sudhir-da used to join us from time to time and encourage us.
We learnt from him many other forms of social service. Whenever a fire broke out or there was an epidemic of cholera or small pox he called us. He would plan how to meet the situation and of course he took an active part in the execution of the plan too.
— Shambhunath Bhadra
Change of Name
In the mid-1920s, several years after his release from prison, Sudhir settled in Assam with his family. He was in fact a political absconder living in disguise in Sorbhog (now Barbeta). Because he was preaching violence to young revolutionaries and giving them monetary help, he was pursued by the police. During this time he was again arrested on charges of political unrest but he avoided conviction on the ground that his name had been mistitled instead of Sudhir K. Sarkar he was known as Sudhir K. Bagchi.
New Ventures
He was also affectionately known as ‘Rangababu’ for his benevolent public service in Sorbhog. He distributed homoeopathic medicines freely to the needy, poor and rich alike. He was one of the first persons to produce Khair or catechu from Acacia trees industrially in a big way in the jungles of Assam.
He also exported simul cotton. And he was one of the first to construct flush toilets with septic tanks in that area. The larger size reinforced concrete pipes were also a new venture he started!
He took the initiative to open and finance a primary school for children which has now developed into the Sorbhog Railway Colony High School.
He took the trouble of getting Government permission from the deputy commissioner of Kamrup for the installation of three temples on his property, known as the Sorbhog Kalibari, Rambari and Shibbari temples.
Sometime in 1934, he left behind everything in Sorbhog without anyone’s knowledge and went and settled in Khulna. Here he started many new business ventures.
— Paritosh Roy
Finding the Mother
After his release from jail, Sudhir contacted Sri Aurobindo. He started a regular correspondence with Nolini who was staying at Pondicherry in Sri Aurobindo Ashram. Finally in 1938 he came to Pondicherry for the first time. It was difficult for Sudhir, who for so many years had fought against foreign rule, to accept the Mother who was French by birth, as head of the Ashram. Sri Aurobindo had retired in 1926 and now everything was guided by Her. Sudhir felt like going back, rather than bowing down to Her! But this feeling was momentary. At the very first glimpse of the Mother, his whole being prostrated before Her. Holding Her feet, he sobbed like a child, forgetting all. All his arrogance melted away in a single gesture, his ego disappeared and he understood his folly. Then he completely surrendered himself to Her. She was his Mother, his Motherland, the universal Mother all in one — there was no doubt left in him.
Building Flush Toilet with Septic Tank
And so Sudhir stayed on for a few days. Pondicherry then did not have many modern facilities, even essential ones like flush toilets with septic tanks in the houses. Early in the morning one would see scavengers with earthen pots on their heads going from house to house. Once the scavengers were on strike. Sudhir could not bear to see the result. He informed the Mother that he knew how to construct flush-toilets with septic tanks and offered to build some in the Ashram compound and other buildings. The Mother consented happily and the work began with the help of other Ashramites. This project required reinforced concrete pipes, so Sudhir manufactured them too. This work also he had learned previously. The work was finished quickly and done well. To this day the flush toilets with septic tanks built by him are there in the Ashram main building.
Hand-made Paper
On his next visit to the Ashram, probably in 1939, Sudhir told the Mother that he knew how to make hand-made paper. She asked him to make some. All the necessary arrangements were made in a corner of the building which is now the centre of Education. Waste-paper was collected from all the residents. With the help of others he prepared some samples of handmade paper. The Mother was delighted to see them and encouraged him to continue. Thus began hand-made paper making at the Ashram. The Mother regularly used this paper for writing messages, letters etc. She preferred that the edges were not trimmed and left as they were. She even remarked once that this is the best paper to write on. Today the hand-made paper factory is one of the largest industries of the Ashram.
Washing Soap
In the early 1940s, Sudhir began making washing soap at the Ashram laundry. A large quantity was made and distributed to the inmates of the Ashram. The size of the soap-cakes used to be really huge! Even today the Ashram produces different types of soap for distribution to Ashramites.
The facsimile of Sudhir Kumar Sarkar’s report to the Mother on work along with the Mother’s observations
Sudhir Kumar supervising chunam-making at the Ashram
Cloth-Dyeing
A physical education uniform was designed in the late 1940s. The Groups were formed according to age. The Mother decided that each group should be identified by a special colour. Here Sudhir’s talent found another opportunity — he prepared the dyes used for colouring the group shorts. The Mother was very particular about the shades She had chosen for each group. Sudhir dyed the cloth to Her specifications. Soon the dyeing increased, as saris, bedcovers, and other materials were sent to him by Sadhaks happy to have a little more colour in their life. The Mother gave Sudhir permission to do this extra work provided there was enough colour for the group shorts. Thus started cloth and yarn dyeing in the Ashram, which continues even today.
Chunam (Lime)
In the late 1940s, Sudhir tried another venture with some of his friends, that of making chunam (lime powder) for whitewashing the Ashram buildings. He made it by heating and then pulverising sea-shells brought to him by the local village fisher-women. Sudhir had an inborn sympathy for the poor. He noticed that the village women sold the shells to a contractor at a low price; the contractor then increased the cost substantially before selling and gained a big profit. Sudhir started buying the shells directly from the village women so that they could earn a little more instead of its going to the contractor. When the contractor came to know about it, he prosecuted Sudhir and threatened to put him behind bars! Jovially he informed the contractor that he had been to the Andamans and these petty city jails meant nothing to him. However, because of certain regulations, he had to stop buying shells directly from the village women for whom he always had thoughtfulness and love.
Pottery
In the 1950s, the Ashram was in need of flower pots and other earthen-wares. Often there was no stock in the market and its quality was not good either. This prompted Sudhir to start a pottery. He received the Mother’s permission and soon was turning out flower pots, water-carrying pots, Kujas and other items needed by the Ashram. He also tried his hand at ceramics. The pottery he started functions even today.
Homoeopathy
From the time Sudhir settled permanently in the Ashram in 1943, he dispensed homoeopathic medicines to all who needed them. Those treated by him trusted him — they felt that his diagnosis was intuitively correct. The medicines he gave seemed to be charged with a force of love and a healing power of the Grace. Loving and generous, Sudhir always carried homoeopathic pills with him to treat those who were in need. Whenever he heard of someone in distress, he would immediately go to help the person, even in the dead of night. One of the Ashram homoeopaths once remarked, “Sudhir-da taught us to go to the patient, rather than wait for the patient to come to us. He also taught us that love and sympathy that the patient needs, must flow from the heart.”
Operation
Once I went to Nolini-da’s room for some work. From inside came Sudhir’s excited voice. “Nolini, go and tell the Mother that I am not going to Delhi. No, on no account. Does the Mother want me to go there and die? I don’t need any operation. If I must die, I will do it here in the Ashram. No where else am I going to die. I don’t want them to cut open my body.” Later I heard, that when Nolini-da, told this to the Mother, She replied, “Why does Sudhir think of death? He will come back cured and live long. It is I who am sending him to Delhi for an operation. I assure him that I will stay with him always during the operation. I will be with the doctor. Tell him not to worry. He will come back freed from his disease, reinvigorated, rejuvenated.” Receiving this assurance from the Mother, Sudhir agreed to the operation with a light heart.
— Mrityunjoy Mukherjee
Sudhir K. Sarkar in the running competition
I accompanied Sudhir-da to Delhi sometime in February 1950. With the Mother’s approval and blessings, he was going to have a prostate operation performed by my uncle, Dr. S. K. Sen in my uncle’s nursing home. The operation was completed in twenty minutes or so. Sudhir-da recovered very fast due to his excellent physical condition that too at the age of sixty-one. In fact, six days after surgery he was walking and exercising, which everyone considered as very unusual. Generally it takes twenty-one days for recovery. My uncle refused to believe that the speedy recovery was due to the Grace of the Mother, but stated that it was owing to Sudhir’s perfect health condition.
When we returned to Pondicherry it was evening. The Mother was in the Playground. When She learned that our car had arrived, She immediately went to meet Sudhir-da. Sudhir-da hearing that the Mother was coming started to get out of the car, not caring for the instructions of the doctor. The Mother told him not to move and blessed him.
Later, we heard that at the time of the operation, ten in the morning, the Mother suspended her usual programme of giving blessings to the Sadhaks and retired to Her room to concentrate. She stayed there for about an hour. Later in the evening she informed Gama, Sudhir-da’s son, that the operation was successful.
— Dr. Satyavrata Sen
Keeping his Word
In August 1955, I came to the Ashram with my wife for the Darshan. It was my first visit. Every day at 9.00 p.m., Sudhir-da would show up in front of the cement bench near the Mahasamadhi. We would glance at each other briefly. He always looked at us straight, holding his head a little backward. One day, I looked at him in the same way. He smiled and said “Ah! Well done.”
That was our first encounter with Sudhir-da. He invited us to a tea next day. In the course of conversation, he asked my wife about her father and his profession. When he learned that he was a jailor, Jogen Sen Gupta by name, Sudhir-da’s face was lighted up with gratitude. Slowly he told the story: “I was in the Jessore Jail. Your father was the jailor at that time. One night there was an urgent necessity for me to go home. I asked for his permission. Very calmly he replied: ‘You are the true children of our Motherland. We do not do anything. Well, I will permit you to go home for a night. But if you don’t turn up tomorrow, I will not only lose my job, but will be punished!’ I replied, ‘I give my word’. I returned the next morning.” Half a century had elapsed since that incident, but Sudhir-da’s gratitude was still writ large on his face as he told us the story. The Mother once remarked, “The index of a man’s greatness is in his sense of gratitude.” Judged by this standard, Sudhir-da was indeed a great man.
— Sachin Sen Gupta
Veteran Parliamentarian Surendra Mohan Ghose, Nolini Kanta Gupta and Sudhir Kumar Sarkar
Still like a Lion
Surendra Mohan Ghosh, a member of the Rajya Sabha, used to visit Pondicherry regularly. He would often come to see Sudhir-da in order to hear about Sri Aurobindo.
In 1973 or 1974, when Sudhir-da was in a semi-coma, Surendra Mohan came to Pondicherry, and as usual went to Sudhir-da’s house. But this time he brought with him, Jayaprakash Narayan.
Surendra Mohan told him, “Chal téré ko purānā kāl kā swadeshi dikhāyegā. Hamārā kāl kā swadeshi nahin, yé bābā, kālā pāni sé āyā hai. (Come, I will show you a revolutionary, not of today but of yonder days, who had been to the Andamans.)
They came and stood quietly near Sudhir-da’s bed. Jayaprakash Narayan lifted up the chaddar covering his feet. He then bowed down and touched Sudhir-da’s feet with his forehead. After looking at him again for a few minutes, he said, “Still he looks like а lion.”
(Recounted by Surendra Mohan Ghosh, Rajya Sabha M.P., to Mona)
The Descent of Vishwakarma
At one time the Mother used to bring down the Gods and Goddesses into us — Varuna in one, I mean the overmental Gods and Goddesses in others. It was not merely an influence by the Gods and Goddesses; it was a material descent of them into the physical consciousness of the sadhaks so as to effect a complete identification. The result was that the total personality of the Sadhak — his conduct, habits, thinking and feelings all underwent a sea-change. We used to act like the Gods themselves. It was a strange experience. We felt as if we had been transformed into Gods. Thus the Mother experimented in bringing about a change in earth-consciousness.
I think the Mother brought down Vishwakarma in Sudhir. His mind and heart are so vast and he has so much love for everybody; that is why he wants to do good to all and make them happy. Just as Vishwakarma the god pours down his power to help build the world, so is Sudhir ready to help everybody. He cannot bear to see anybody suffer. He is simple, frank and upright.
Once Sudhir’s name was mentioned in Sri Aurobindo’s presence. After a little pondering Sri Aurobindo said, “Oh, that fearless Sudhir…”
We used to be worried that he would do something catastrophic on the spur of the moment when in an excited mood. I used to call him “Pagla Sudhir” — Mad Sudhir — but he loved me so much that whenever I advised him to do something he obeyed. He was noble and generous — without the traits of distrust in him. He was a true man among million.[9]
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