Friends and doctors assured me that I should recuperate quicker by a change to Matheran, so I went there. But the water at Matheran being very hard, made my stay there extremely difficult. As a result of the attack of dysentery that I had, my anal tract had become extremely tender and owing to fissures, I felt excruciating pain at the time of evacuation so that the very idea of eating filled me with dread. Before the week was over, I had to flee from Matheran. Shankarlal Banker now constituted himself the guardian of my health and pressed me to consult DrDalal. Dr Dalal was called accordingly. His capacity for taking instantaneous decisions captured me. He said: ‘I cannot rebuild your body unless you take milk. If in addition, you would take iron and arsenic injections, I would guarantee fully to renovate your constitution.’ ‘You can give me the injections,’ I replied, ‘but milk is a different question; I have a vow against it.’ ‘What exactly is the nature of your vow?’ the doctor inquired. I told him the whole history and the reasons behind my vow, how, since I had come to know that the cow and the buffalo were subjected to the process of #phooka#, I had conceived a strong disgust for milk. Moreover, I had always held that milk is not the natural diet of man. I had therefore abjured its use altogether. Kasturbai was standing near my bed listening all the time to this conversation. ‘But surely you cannot have any objection to goat’s milk then,’ she interposed. The doctor too took up the strain. ‘If you will take goat’s milk, it will be enough for me,’ he said. I succumbed. My intense eagerness to take up the Satyagraha fight had created in me a strong desire to live, and so I contented myself with adhering to the letter of my vow only and sacrificed its spirit. For although I had only the milk of the cow and she buffalo in mind when I took the vow, by natural implication it covered the milk of all animals. Nor could it be right for me to use milk at all, so long as I held that milk is not the natural diet of man. Yet knowing all this i agreed to take goat’s milk. The will to live proved stronger than the devotion to truth, and for once the votary of truth compromised his sacred ideal by his eagerness to take up the Satyagraha fight. The memory of this action even now rankles in my breast and fills me with remorse, and I am constantly thinking about how to give up goat’s milk. But I cannot yet free myself from that subtlest of temptations, the desire to serve, which still holds me. My experience in dietetics is dear to me as a part of my researches in Ahimsa. They give me recreation and joy. But my use of goat’s milk today troubles me not from the viewpoint of dietetic Ahimsa so much as from that of truth, being no less than a breach of the pledge. It seems to me that I understand the ideal of truth better than that of ann Ahimsa, and my experience tells me that, if I let go of my hold of truth, I shall never be able to solve the riddle of Ahimsa. The ideal of truth requires that vows taken should be fulfilled in the spirit as well as in the letter. In the present case, I killed the spirit the soul of my vow by adhering to its outer form only, and that is what galls me. But despite this clear knowledge, I cannot see my way straight before me. In other words, perhaps, I have not the courage to follow the straight course. Both at the bottom mean the same thing, for doubt is invariably the result of want or weakness of faith. ‘Lord, give me faith is, therefore, my prayer day and night. Soon after I began making goat’s milk, Dr Dalal performed on me a successful operation for fissures. As I recuperated, my desire to live revived, especially because God had kept work in store for me. I had hardly begun to feel my way towards recovery when I happened casually to read in the papers the Rowlatt Committee’s report which had just been published. Its recommendations startled me. Shankarlal Banker and Umar Sobani approached me with the suggestion that I should take some prompt action in the matter. In about a month I went to Ahmedabad. I mentioned my apprehensions to Vallabhbhai, who used to come to see me almost daily. ‘Something must be done,’ said I to him. ‘But what can we do in the circumstances?’ he asked in reply. I answered, ‘If even a handful of men can be found to sign the pledge of resistance, and the proposed measure is passed into law in defiance of it, we ought to offer Satyagraha at once. If I was not laid up like this, I should give battle against it all alone, and expect others to follow suit. But in my present helpless condition, I feel myself to be altogether unequal to the task.’ As a result of this talk, it was decided to call a small meeting of such persons as were in touch with me. The recommendations of the Rowlatt Committee seemed to me to be altogether unwarranted by the evidence published in its report, and were, I felt, such that no self-respecting people could submit to them. The proposed conference was at last held at the Ashram. Hardly a score of persons had been invited to it. So far as I remember, among those who attended were, besides Vallabhbhai, Shrimati Sarojini Naidu, Mr Horniman, the late Mr Umar Sobani, Sjt. Shankarlal Banker and Shrimati Anasuyabehn. The Satyagraha pledge was drafted at this meeting, and, as far as I recollect, was signed by all present. I was not editing any journal at that time, but I used occasionally to ventilate my views through the daily press. I followed the practice on this occasion. Shankarlal Banker took up the agitation in right earnest, and for the first time, I got an idea of his wonderful capacity for organization and sustained work. As all hope of any of the existing institutions adopting a novel weapon like Satyagraha seemed to me to be in vain, a separate body called the Satyagraha Sabha was established at my instance. Its principal members were drawn from Bombay where, therefore, its headquarters were fixed. The intending covenanters began to sign the Satyagraha pledge in large numbers, bulletins were issued, and popular meetings began to be held everywhere recalling all the familiar features of the Kheda campaign. I became the president of the Satyagraha Sabha. I soon found that there was not likely to be much chance of agreement between myself and the intelligentsia composing this Sabha. My insistence on the use of Gujarati in the Sabha, as also some of my other methods of work that would appear to be peculiar, caused them no small worry and embarrassment. I must say to their credit, however, that most of them generously put up with my idiosyncrasies. But from the very beginning, it seemed clear to me that the Sabha was not likely to live long. I could see that already my emphasis on truth and Ahimsa had begun to be disliked by some of its members. Nevertheless, in its early stages, our new activity went on at full blast, and the movement gathered head rapidly. ~ THE ROWLATT BILLS AND MY DILEMMA


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)

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