When starting for South Africa I did not feel the wrench of separation which I had experienced when leaving for England.

My mother was now no more. I had gained some knowledge of the world and of travel abroad, and going from Rajkot to Bombay was no unusual affair. This time I only felt the pang of parting with my wife.

Another baby had been born to us since my return from England. Our love could not yet be called free from lust, but it was getting gradually purer.

Since my return from Eurpoe, we had lived very little together; and as I had now become her teacher, however indifferent, and helped her to make certain reforms, we both felt the necessity of being more together, if only to continue the reforms.

But the attraction of South Africa rendered the separation bearable. ‘We are bound to meet again in a year ,’ I said to her, by way of consolation, and left Rajkot for Bombay.

Here I was to get my passage through the agent of Dada Abdulla and Company. But no berth was available on the boat, and if I did not sail then, I should be stranded in Bombay.

‘We have tried our best,’ said the agent, ‘to secure a first-class passage, but in vain unless you are prepared to go on deck.

Your meals can be arranged for in the saloon.’ Those were the days of my first class travelling, and how could a barrister travel as a deck passenger? So I refused the offer. I suspected the agent’s veracity, for I could not believe that a first-class passage was not available.

With the agent’s consent, I set about securing it myself. I went on board the boat and met the chief officer. He said to me quite frankly, ‘We do not usually have such a rush. But as the Governor-General of Mozambique is going by this boat, all the berths are engaged.’ ‘Could you not possibly squeeze me in?’ I asked.

He surveyed me from top to toe and smiled. There is just one way,’ he said. ‘There is an extra berth in my cabin, which is usually not available for passengers.

But I am prepared to give it to you.’ I thanked him and got the agent to purchase the passage. In April 1893 I set forth full of zest to try my luck in South Africa.

The first port of call was Lamu which we reached in about thirteen days. The Captain and I had become great friends by this time.

He was fond of playing chess, but as he was quite a novice, he wanted one still more of a beginner for his partner, and so he invited me.

I had heard a lot about the game but had never tried my hand at it. Players used to say that this was a game in which there was plenty of scope for the exercise of one’s intelligence.

The Captain offered to give me lessons, and he found me a good pupil as I had unlimited patience. Every time I was the loser, and that made him all the more eager to teach me.

I liked the game but never carried my liking beyond the boat or my knowledge beyond the moves of the pieces.

At Lamu, the ship remained at anchor for some three to four hours, and I landed to see the port. The Captain had also gone ashore, but he had warned me that the harbour was treacherous and that I should return in good time.

It was a very small place. I went to the Post Office and was delighted to see the Indian clerks there, and talked with them. I also saw the Africans and tried to acquaint myself with their ways of life which interested me very much. This took up some time. There were some deck passengers with whom I had made acquaintance, and who had landed to cook their food onshore and have a quiet meal.

I now found them preparing to return to the steamer, so we all got into the same boat. The tide was high in the harbour and our boat had more than its proper load. The current was so strong that it was impossible to hold the boat to the ladder of the steamer. It would just touch the ladder and be drawn away again by the current.

The first whistle to start had already gone. I was worried. The Captain was witnessing our plight from the bridge. He ordered the steamer to wait an extra five minutes. There was another boat near the ship which a friend hired for me for ten rupees.

This boat picked me up from the overloaded one. The ladder had already been raised. I had therefore to be drawn up using a rope and the steamer started immediately. The other passengers were left behind.

I now appreciated the Captain’s warning. After Lamu, the next port was Mombasa and then Zanzibar.

The halt here was a long one eight or ten days and we then changed to another boat. The Captain liked me much but the liking took an undesirable turn.

He invited an English friend and me to accompany him on an outing, and we all what the outing meant.

And little did the Captain know what an ignoramus I was in such matters. We were taken to some Negro women’s quarters by a tout.

We were each shown into a room. I simply stood there dumb with shame.

Heaven only knows what the poor woman must have thought of me. He saw my innocence. At first, I felt very much ashamed, but as I could not think of the thing except with horror, the sense of shame wore away, and I thanked God that the sight of the woman had no moved me in the least.

I was disgusted at my weakness and pitied myself for not having dared to refuse to go into the room. This is my life was the third trial of its kind. Many a youth, innocent at first, must have been drawn into sin by a false sense of shame.

I could have credit if I had refused to enter that room. I must entirely thank the All-merciful for having saved me. The incident increased my faith in God and taught me, to a certain extent, to cast off false shame.

As we had to remain in this port for a week. I took rooms in the town and saw a good deal by wandering about the neighbourhood.

Only Malabar can give an idea of the luxuriant vegetation of Zanzibar. I was amazed at the gigantic trees and the size of the fruits.

The next call was at Mozambique and thence we reached Natal towards the close of May.


Life is like a bunch of roses. Some sparkle like raindrops. Some fade when there's no sun. Some just fade away in time. Some dance in many colors. Some drop with hanging wings. Some make you fall in love. The beauty is in the eye of the beholder. Life you can be sure of, you will not get out ALIVE.(sorry about that)