Mohandas: True Story of a Man, His People

by Gandhi, Rajmohan

  After a talk with him on 27 January, Vincent Sheean, an American reporter, asked for another appointment, which Gandhi provisionally scheduled. Writes Sheean: ‘[Gandhi] added very gently, in a voice that would have melted the heart of an enemy (and I was no enemy), “If there is no time, you will understand.”’

  At Sheean’s request, Gandhi spelt out his understanding of the Gita and the Sermon on the Mount, and he also translated for Sheean the Ishopanishad verse always recited in his evening prayer: ‘Renounce the world and receive it back as God’s gift. And then covet not.’ Gandhi explained that the last four words were crucial, for a renouncer was often tempted, after surrender and acceptance, to covet again. Sheean thought that Gandhi’s words reached out ‘from the depths to the depths’. 111

  Among the letters he sent on 29 January was one (written at 4.30 a.m.) to Vijaya Walji Sodawala, a Harijan girl in her medical final in Bombay, assuring a scholarship. Another was a warm note to Kishorelal Mashruwala, the former Harijan editor who had withdrawn in the context of Gandhi’s chastity experiments. The two anticipated a reunion during Gandhi’s Wardha’s visit.

  On 29 January about forty Hindus from Bannu in the NWFP called on Gandhi. They carried wounds on their bodies and in their spirits (perhaps incurred on the 13 January attack on the train at Gujrat station), and took out some of their unhappiness on Gandhi. In the prayer-meeting talk that evening, he supplied a gist of the conversation:

  One of them… said I had done enough harm already and that I should stop and disappear from the scene. He did not care whether I was a mahatma. I asked him where he wanted me to go. He said that I might go to the Himalayas… I asked why I should go to the Himalayas merely because he wished it… I can only do as God bids…

  God is the help of the afflicted. But an afflicted person is not God… I cannot run away because anyone wants me to run away… God will do what He wills. He may take me away… My Himalayas are here (98: 331).

  Later in the evening, however, he said to Brij Krishna: ‘You should take that as notice served on me… We should accept curses from a sorrow-laden heart like that as the voice of God.’112

  In this prayer talk he also spoke of his hope that a farmer, or one ‘who produced food-grain out of the earth, becomes our chief, our Prime Minister’ (98: 332). After dark he began to put down in writing his radical ideas regarding the Congress’s future. He was lying down in his bed on the floor when, at about 9.30 p.m., Devadas and his wife Lakshmi appeared.

  ‘What news?’ Gandhi exclaimed; it was his usual greeting for the editor-son. Saying he had nothing important to impart, Devadas asked, ‘How does the ship of state fare?’ The question was about the Nehru-Patel relationship. Replied Gandhi: ‘I am sure the little differences will vanish. But things may have to await my return from Wardha. That won’t be long. I am sure they must hold together.’

  After some more conversation, Devadas said, preparing to leave, ‘Bapu, will you sleep now?’

  ‘No, there is no hurry… Talk some more,’ the father said.113

  Friday 30 January began like any other day. Up at 3.30 a.m., Gandhi and his companions recited the morning prayers, including these lines:

  Forgive, O Merciful and Loving God of Gods, all my sins, of hand or foot, body or speech, eye or ear, of commission or omission… I ask neither for a kingdom nor for heaven nor for liberation but only for an end to the pain of the suffering ones…

  Elsewhere in the city, in a retiring room at Delhi station, Nathuram Godse, Narayan Apte and Vishnu Karkare were still asleep. They had returned to the capital with a new plan and with weapons, including a pistol procured in Gwalior.

  Assisted by a hot drink of lemon-and-honey and a glass of sweet lime juice prepared by Manu and Abha, Gandhi worked until six a.m. on his Congress draft. Its role completed with India’s political independence, the Congress, the draft said, should be willing to dissolve itself and ‘flower into’ an association for gaining ‘social, moral and economic independence’.

  The new body (for which Gandhi had thought of a name, Lok Sevak Sangh, or People’s Servants’ Association) would tackle illiteracy, ill-health, unemployment, untouchability and communal intolerance in every village in India. Parties from the left to the right, including new ones, would fill the political vacuum left by the Congress’s departure and accommodate those in the Congress unable to live without politics.

  Handing the draft to Pyarelal, Gandhi asked him to ‘fill in any gaps’. ‘I wrote it under a heavy strain,’ added Gandhi. At eight Brij Krishna gave Gandhi an oil massage. After a bath Gandhi had a brunch of goat’s milk, boiled vegetables, tomato, radish and orange juice. Over the meal he encouraged Pyarelal to return to Noakhali. He needed Pyarelal’s assistance in Delhi, Gandhi said, yet the work in East Pakistan should have priority.

  After an old associate from Durban, Rustom Sorabji, called with his family, Gandhi took a short nap. Nourished by another drink of lemon-and-honey, he had his daily talk with Delhi’s Muslim leaders. ‘I can’t go away to Wardha without your consent,’ he told them. Supporting his going, they said: ‘We will find out what Delhi is like in your absence.’114

  Sudhir Ghosh, who was in town, and Pyarelal asked Gandhi about a comment in the London Times on the Nehru-Patel friction. Gandhi said he would raise the matter with Patel, who was coming at four, and with Nehru, due in at seven in the evening, and also in his prayer-talk.

  In the early afternoon he stretched out under the sun, first listening to P.B. Chandwani of Sindh, who read from the day’s newspapers, and then receiving visitors to whom Brij Krishna had given time. These included Jat leaders from East Punjab (Gandhi asked them about the condition of Dalits in their areas); Hindu refugees from Sindh; Sri Lanka’s de Silva, who came with his daughter; the historian, Radha Kumud Mookerjee, bringing a book he had written; a French photographer; a delegation from former princely states joining the Punjab; and another of Sikhs wanting to organize a large meeting in Delhi.

  To the Hindus from Sindh, Gandhi spoke in what Chandwani felt was ‘an exceedingly tender voice’. While ‘outwardly he seemed light and happy,’ he said, his ‘heart was smitten with grief’. He told them what the Bannu refugee had said the previous day. Chuckling, Gandhi added that by going to the Himalayas he would become a double Mahatma and attract bigger crowds. But he preferred to face ‘the prevailing darkness and misery’ (98: 340).

  An arm resting on Brij Krishna’s shoulder, he walked back at four to his room. Brij Krishna was told to arrange the journey to Wardha ‘in consultation with Patel’. ‘Ask Bisen to pack Professor Mookerjee’s book with my things,’ Gandhi added.

  By now Vallabhbhai had arrived, accompanied by his daughter Maniben. Gandhi and he talked beyond prayer time (5 p.m.). During the conversation Gandhi plied his charkha and ate his evening meal (served by Abha) of goat’s milk, raw carrots, boiled vegetables and three oranges.

  Acknowledging that earlier he had thought that either Patel or Nehru should withdraw from the Cabinet, Gandhi told Patel that he had now ‘come to the firm conclusion that the presence there of both of them was indispensable’.115 Any breach in their ranks at this stage would be disastrous. Gandhi added that he would underline this right away in his prayer-speech, and also to Nehru, who was coming at seven. Tomorrow, said Gandhi, ‘the three of us’ should have a joint talk.116

  There was much that Patel wanted to say. Aware that Gandhi hated being late for the prayer-meeting, Abha fidgeted. But Patel was India’s strong man, and she did not dare interrupt. However, she picked up Gandhi’s pocket watch and held it up in front of him. But Gandhi was focused on his old comrade. Eventually, Maniben intervened, but it was ten minutes past five when Gandhi got up.

  Quickly getting into his chappals, Gandhi started walking to the prayer site, his left arm on Manu’s shoulder, his right on Abha’s. Brij Krishna and a few others followed behind. ‘You gave me cattle fare,’ he teased Abha as they walked, referring to the carrots. ‘Ba called it horse fare,’ said Ab
ha. ‘Isn’t it grand of me,’ said Gandhi, ‘to relish what no one else cares for?’

  Abha laughed but complained: ‘Bapu, your watch must have felt neglected.’ ‘But I have time-keepers,’ Gandhi replied. ‘Why should I look at my watch?’ ‘You would not look at the time-keepers either,’ Abha rejoined. This drew a comment on Abha’s hesitation in Patel’s presence:

  It is your fault that I am ten minutes late. It is the duty of nurses to carry on their work even if God himself should be present there. If it is time to give medicine to a patient and one feels hesitant about it, the poor patient will die. So it is with prayers. It irks me if I am late for prayers even by a minute.

  By the end of this remark he and the girls had come to the five gentle steps leading up to the prayer site, and they and those behind them turned completely silent. It was understood that small talk and laughter had to cease before they set their feet on the prayer site. Behind them, as they cleared the easy steps, the winter sun was setting. Ahead, about thirty yards to the right, was the khadi-covered platform where they would sit for the prayers. The path to that platform was lined on either side by scores of women and men joining their hands in reverential, but also warm, greeting to Gandhi.

  Removing his hands from the girls’ shoulders, Gandhi brought them together to return the greetings. From the side to his left, Nathuram Godse thrust his way towards him and appeared to be bending down. Manu, who was carrying Gandhi’s rosary and the book of ashram songs, thought he wanted to touch Gandhi’s feet. She said they were late already; Gandhi should not be detained.

  But Godse had come very close. Manu tried to shove his hand away. She was violently pushed aside by Godse. The rosary and the book fell. As Manu knelt down to pick up the objects, Godse planted himself in front of Gandhi, pulled out a pistol, and fired three shots in quick succession, one into Gandhi’s stomach and two into his chest.

  ‘Raam, Raa…m,’ Gandhi uttered117 as crimson spread across his white clothes, and gun-smoke billowed in the air he was breathing. The hands raised in the gesture of greeting which was a sign also of prayer and goodwill flopped down, and the limp body sank towards the ground, where dew had started to form. As he fell, his right arm landed on Abha’s left shoulder. She caught the falling Gandhi’s head in her hands, and sat down with it.

  Following behind Gandhi, Brij Krishna had run forward on hearing the shots and seen Gandhi first standing, blood streaming down his body, and then collapsing into Abha’s lap.

  ‘Handled by us with a tenderness greater than we would extend to flowers,’ Brij Krishna would write, ‘prepared to be trampled under it rather than see it bruised in any way, we saw that gentle body of his lying lifeless on the grass and moist mud.’118

  Five centuries earlier, the weaver-poet Kabir had likened the human body to a handspun and hand-woven ‘chadariya’, or length of cloth, which the soul has to keep in good repair but ultimately shed.

  But the body too needed a covering. For the sake principally of his poor compatriots, Gandhi had always underlined the value of his hand-made khadi (crimson now, but otherwise always white, and never longer than necessary), and he had always done his best to keep it spotless.

  For the sake of India’s liberty and honour, he had also taken good care of the body his khadi covered. This inner chadariya, his frame and limbs and heart, had enveloped many, and especially the weak, with a sheltering love. As with Draupadi’s garment, its capacity to extend itself had been multiplied by a bountiful providence, so that an unbelievable number felt Gandhi’s warmth. Old and frayed, the chadariya at times needed a supporting sheet of cloth, but like Gandhi’s outer khadi it remained unsoiled.

  For forty or more years, in South Africa first and then in India, this chadariya had fluttered confidently at the head of columns of unarmed women and men marching for dignity. At times it waved alone, proclaiming a hard truth. Even from afar other chadariyas drew strength from it. But this precious chadariya, his human body, so loved by Brij Krishna, Abha, Manu, Pyarelal, Sushila, Mira, Amtus Salaam, Devadas, and many others, was only an outer garment for the real Gandhi.

  That Gandhi, the spirit that wanted to bless and forgive his assassin, even as it wanted to bless and forgive all the grudge-bearing residents of India, Pakistan, and the world—the spirit that brought the chadariya’s hands together and wanted to take the name of God at the moment of death, that Gandhi the bullets did not kill. They only released that Gandhi for the ages and the continents.

  Chapter 7: Engaging India

  * His younger brother would gain fame as the actor Boris Karloff.

  Chapter 8: The Empire Challenged

  * We do not know about Lyall or his needs.

  Chapter 9: Building Anew

  * Yavan = a pejorative term for foreigner or Muslim

  Chapter 10: Assault—with Salt

  * Sacrificial offering or ritual

  Mohandas Karamchand Gandhi in Rajkot - 1883

  Mohandas with (left) brother Laxmidas - 1886

  Shortly after the Great March with Henry Polak (right) - 1913

  With others from his law office team in Johannesburg - 1905

  In Johannesburg - 1906

  With C.F. Andrews (left) and W.W. Pearson in South Africa - 1914

  Shortly after arrival in Bombay - 1915

  With Kasturba - 1915

  With Mira (second from left) in Switzerland - 1931

  Chakravarti Rajagopalachari - 1930

  Subhas Bose as president of the Haripura Congress, followed by Maulana Azad and Jawaharlal Nehru - 1938

  Harilal

  Manilal

  Ramdas

  Devadas

  With Ghaffar Khan in the Frontier Province - 1938 (Original photo: Kanu Gandhi)

  In Wardha - 1939 (Original photo: Udit Gopal)

  With Azad and Vallabhbhai Patel in Bombay - 1940

  (Seated) Kasturba, Gandhi and Rabindranath Tagore in Calcutta -1941 (Original photo: S. Shaha)

  With the author, his grandson - 1936

  Kasturba Gandhi - 1938 (Original photo: Kanu Gandhi)

  Shortly after Kasturba’s death - 1944

  At the Quit India meeting of the AICC - 1942 (Original photo: Central Camera Company)

  In Bombay - 1944 (Original photo: D.R.D. Wadia)

  In Madras - 1946

  With Mahadev Desai - 1938

  Pyarelal and his wife Bela Devi - after 1951

  With Muhammad Ali Jinnah - 1944

  With Nehru at the AICC meeting - 1946

  At the wheel - 1946

  With Abha Gandhi and Sushila Nayar – 1947

  With grandniece Manu in Calcutta - 15 August 1947

  Freeman Freeman-Thomas Willingdon Viceroy 1931-36

  Victor Hope Linlithgow Viceroy 1936-43

  Archibald Percival Wavell Viceroy 1943-47

  Louis Mountbatten Viceroy and Governor-General 1947-48

  On the way, in Simla, to see the Viceroy - 1945

  In Noakhali - 1946 (Original photo: D.G. Tendulkar)

  Postscript

  The world grieved. Albert Deutsch, a columnist from New York, wrote that there was still hope for a world that had ‘reacted as reverently as it did to the death of Gandhi’. From London King George VI said that mankind, and not India alone, had suffered an irreparable loss. In the USA, Mary McLeod Bethune, daughter of slaves, said that ‘a great warm light had been extinguished’. A former Premier of France, Leon Blum, remarked that though he had never seen Gandhi or set foot in India, he felt ‘as if [he] had lost someone near and dear’. 1

  In Pakistan, Jinnah referred to Gandhi’s ‘noble death’, and Mian Iftikharuddin said: ‘Each one of us who has raised his hand against innocent men, women and children during the past months, who has publicly or secretly entertained sympathy for such acts, is a collaborator in the murder of Mahatma Gandhi.’2 After hearing the news on the evening of 30 January, many in Pakistan skipped their meal that night.3

  In New Delhi, rushing to Gandhi’s still-warm bo
dy in Birla House, Nehru cried like a child and buried his head in the lap of a stoic Patel, who had got there earlier. Then the two embraced each other, and Patel told Nehru of what Gandhi had said to him. Shortly afterwards, the two addressed India over the radio. Speaking first in Hindi and then in English, Nehru said:

  The light has gone out of our lives and there is darkness everywhere. I do not know what to tell you or how to say it. Our beloved leader, Bapu as we called him, the Father of the Nation, is no more…

  The light has gone out, I said, and yet I was wrong. For the light that shone in this country was no ordinary light. The light that illumined this country for these many, many years will illumine this country for many more years, and a thousand years later, that light will still be seen in this country, and the world will see it, and it will give solace to innumerable hearts…

  Patel spoke in Hindi:

  Just now my dear brother Pandit Jawaharlal Nehru has spoken to you. My heart is aching. What shall I say to you? My tongue is tied. This is a day of sorrow, shame and agony for India…

  The mad youth who killed him was wrong if he thought that thereby he was destroying his noble mission. Perhaps God wanted Gandhiji’s mission to fulfil and prosper through his death.4