Preparing for England

I passed the matriculation examination in 1887. It then used to be held at two centres, Ahmedabad and Bombay. The general poverty of the country naturally led Kathiawad students to prefer the nearer and the cheaper centre. The poverty of my family likewise dictated to me the same choice. This was my first journey from Rajkot to Ahmedabad and that too without a companion.

I passed the matriculation examination in 1887. At the time, it was held in two places, Ahmedabad and Bombay. Because the country was generally poor, students from Kathiawad naturally preferred the closer and cheaper location. My family was poor too, so I made the same choice. It was my first journey from Rajkot to Ahmedabad, and I traveled alone.

My elders wanted me to pursue my studies at college after the matriculation. There was a college in Bhavnagar as well as in Bombay and as the former was cheaper, I decided to go there and join the Samaldas College. I went, but found myself entirely at sea. Everything was difficult. I could not follow, let alone take interest in, the professors’ lectures. It was no fault of theirs. The professors in that College were regarded as first-rate. But I was so raw. At the end of the first term, I returned home.

My elders wanted me to go to college after I passed my matriculation exam. There were colleges in both Bhavnagar and Bombay. Bhavnagar was cheaper, so I decided to enroll at Samaldas College there. I went, but I felt completely lost. Everything was difficult. I could not follow the professors’ lectures, let alone find them interesting. The professors were not to blame. They were considered first-rate. But I was so inexperienced. At the end of the first term, I returned home.

We had in Mavji Dave, who was a shrewd and learned Brahman, an old friend and adviser of the family. He had kept up his connection with the family even after my father’s death. He happened to visit us during my vacation. In conversation with my mother and elder brother, he inquired about my studies. Learning that I was at Samaldas College, he said: ‘The times are changed. And none of you can expect to succeed to your father’s gadi without having had a proper education. Now as this boy is still pursuing his studies, you should all look to him to keep the gadi. It will take him four or five years to get his B. A. degree, which will at best qualify him for a sixty rupees’ post, not for a Diwanship. If like my son he went in for law, it would take him still longer, by which time there would be a host of lawyers aspiring for a Diwan’s post. I would far rather that you sent him to England. My son Kevalram says it is very easy to be a barrister. In three years’ time he would return. Also expenses would not exceed four to five thousand rupees. Think of that barrister who has just come back from England. How stylishly he lives! He could get the Diwanship for the asking. I would strongly advise you to send Mohandas to England this very year. Kevalram has numerous friends in England. He will give notes of introduction to them, and Mohandas will have an easy time of it there.’

Mavji Dave was an old family friend and adviser. He was a shrewd and learned Brahman. He had stayed in touch with our family even after my father’s death. He happened to visit us during my vacation. While talking with my mother and elder brother, he asked about my studies. When he learned that I was at Samaldas College, he said: ‘Times have changed. None of you can expect to succeed to your father’s gadi without a proper education. Since this boy is still studying, you should all look to him to keep the gadi. It will take him four or five years to get his B.A. degree. At best, that will qualify him for a job paying sixty rupees, not for a Diwanship. ‘If he studied law like my son, it would take him even longer. By then, many lawyers would be competing for a Diwan’s post. I would much rather you sent him to England. My son Kevalram says it is very easy to become a barrister. Mohandas would return in three years. The expenses would not exceed four to five thousand rupees. Think of that barrister who has just returned from England. How stylishly he lives! He could get the Diwanship just by asking for it. I strongly advise you to send Mohandas to England this very year. Kevalram has many friends in England. He will give Mohandas letters of introduction to them, and Mohandas will have an easy time there.’

Joshiji,—that is how we used to call old Mavji Dave,—turned to me with complete assurance, and asked: ‘Would you not rather go to England than study here?’ Nothing could have been more welcome to me. I was fighting shy of my difficult studies. So I jumped at the proposal and said that the sooner I was sent the better. It was no easy business to pass examinations quickly. Could I not be sent to qualify for the medical profession?

We used to call old Mavji Dave “Joshiji.” He turned to me and asked confidently, ‘Would you rather go to England than study here?’ Nothing could have been more welcome to me. I was trying to avoid my difficult studies. So I jumped at the suggestion and said that the sooner I was sent, the better. It was not easy to pass exams quickly. Could I not be sent to train as a doctor?

My brother interrupted me: ‘Father never liked it. He had you in mind when he said that we Vaishnavas should have nothing to do with dissection of dead bodies. Father intended you for the bar.’

My brother interrupted me: ‘Father never liked it. He was thinking of you when he said that we Vaishnavas should have nothing to do with dissecting dead bodies. Father wanted you to become a lawyer.’

Joshiji chimed in: ‘I an am not opposed to the medical profession as was Gandhiji. Our Shastras are not against it. But a medical degree will not make a Diwan of you and I want you to be Diwan, or if possible something better. Only in that way could you take under your protecting care your large family. The times are fast changing and getting harder every day. It is the wisest thing therefore to become a barrister.’ Turning to my mother he said: ‘Now, I must leave. Pray ponder over what I have said. When I come here next I shall expect to hear of preparations for England. Be sure to let me know if I can assist in any way.’

Joshiji added: ‘I am not opposed to the medical profession as Gandhiji was. Our Shastras are not against it. But a medical degree will not make you a Diwan, and I want you to be a Diwan, or something better if possible. Only then could you protect and care for your large family. Times are changing fast and getting harder every day. So the wisest thing is to become a barrister.’ Turning to my mother, he said: ‘Now I must leave. Please think over what I have said. When I come here next, I expect to hear that you are preparing for England. Be sure to let me know if I can help in any way.’

Joshiji went away, and I began building castles in the air.

Joshiji left, and I began dreaming of all the possibilities.

My elder brother was greatly exercised in his mind. How was he to find the wherewithal to send me? And was it proper to trust a young man like me to go abroad alone?

My elder brother was deeply worried. How could he find the money to send me? And was it right to trust a young man like me to go abroad alone?

My mother was sorely perplexed. She did not like the idea of parting with me. This is how she tried to put me off: ‘Uncle,’ she said, ‘is now the eldest member of the family. He should first be consulted. If he consents we will consider the matter.’

My mother was deeply troubled. She did not like the idea of being apart from me. She tried to put me off by saying: ‘Uncle is now the oldest member of the family. We should consult him first. If he agrees, we will consider the matter.’

My brother had another idea. He said to me: ‘We have a certain claim on the Porbandar state. Mr. Lely is the Administrator. He thinks highly of our family and Uncle is in his good books. It is just possible that he might recommend you for some state help for your education in England.’

My brother had another idea. He said to me: ‘We have a certain claim on the Porbandar state. Mr. Lely is the Administrator. He thinks highly of our family, and Uncle is in his good books. He might possibly recommend that the state give you some help with your education in England.’

I liked all this and got ready to start off for Porbandar. There was no railway in those days. It was a five days’ bullock-cart journey. I have already said that I was a coward. But at that moment my cowardice vanished before the desire to go to England which completely possessed me. I hired a bullock-cart as far as Dhoraji, and from Dhoraji I took a camel in order to get to Porbandar a day quicker. This was my first camel-ride.

I liked all this and got ready to leave for Porbandar. There was no railway in those days. The journey took five days by bullock cart. I have already said that I was a coward. But at that moment, my fear vanished because I was completely consumed by the desire to go to England. I hired a bullock cart to Dhoraji. From there, I took a camel to reach Porbandar a day sooner. This was my first camel ride.

I arrived at last, did obeisance to my uncle, and told him everything. He thought it over and said: ‘I am not sure whether it is possible for one to stay in England without prejudice to one’s own religion. From all I have heard, I have my doubts. When I meet these big barristers, I see no difference between their life and that of Europeans. They know no scruples regarding food. Cigars are never out of their mouths. They dress as shamelessly as Englishmen. All that would not be in keeping with our family tradition. I am shortly going on a pilgrimage and have not many years to live. At the threshold of death, how dare I give you permission to go to England, to cross the seas? But I will not stand in your way. It is your mother’s permission which really matters. If she permits you, then godspeed! Tell her I will not interfere. You will go with my blessings.’

At last I arrived, bowed respectfully to my uncle, and told him everything. He thought it over and said: ‘I am not sure one can live in England without harming one’s religion. From all I have heard, I have my doubts. When I meet these prominent barristers, I see no difference between their lives and those of Europeans. They have no scruples about food. They always have cigars in their mouths. They dress as shamelessly as Englishmen. None of that would be in keeping with our family tradition. I am going on a pilgrimage soon and do not have many years left to live. With death so near, how dare I give you permission to go to England, to cross the seas? But I will not stand in your way. Your mother’s permission is what really matters. If she permits you, then godspeed! Tell her I will not interfere. You will go with my blessing.’

‘I could expect nothing more from you,’ said I, ‘I shall now try to win mother over. But would you not recommend me to Mr. Lely?’

‘I couldn’t expect more from you,’ I said. ‘I’ll now try to persuade my mother. But would you recommend me to Mr. Lely?’

‘How can I do that?’ said he. ‘But he is a good man. You ask for an appointment telling him how you are connected. He will certainly give you one and may even help you.’

‘How can I do that?’ he said. ‘But he is a good man. Ask him for an appointment and explain how you are connected. He will certainly give you an appointment and may even help you.’

I cannot say why my uncle did not give me a note of recommendation. I have a faint idea that he hesitated to co-operate directly in my going to England, which was in his opinion an irreligious act.

I cannot say why my uncle did not give me a letter of recommendation. I have a vague idea that he hesitated to help me go to England directly, because he thought going there was an irreligious act.

I wrote to Mr. Lely, who asked me to see him at his residence. He saw me as he was ascending the staircase; and saying curtly, ‘Pass your B. A. first and then see me. No help can be given you now,’ he hurried upstairs. I had made elaborate preparations to meet him. I had carefully learnt up a few sentences and had bowed low and saluted him with both hands. But all to no purpose!

I wrote to Mr. Lely, who asked me to visit him at his home. He saw me as he was going up the stairs. He said curtly, ‘Pass your B.A. first and then come see me. No help can be given to you now.’ Then he hurried upstairs. I had prepared carefully for our meeting. I had memorized a few sentences, bowed low, and greeted him with both hands. But it was all in vain!

I thought of my wife’s ornaments. I thought of my elder brother, in whom I had the utmost faith. He was generous to a fault, and he loved me as his son.

I thought of my wife’s jewelry. I thought of my older brother, whom I trusted completely. He was generous to a fault, and he loved me like a son.

I returned to Rajkot from Porbandar and reported all that had happened. I consulted Joshiji, who of course advised even incurring a debt if necessary. I suggested the disposal of my wife’s ornaments, which could fetch about two to three thousand rupees. My brother promised to find the money somehow.

I returned from Porbandar to Rajkot and reported everything that had happened. I consulted Joshiji, who of course advised me to borrow money if necessary. I suggested selling my wife’s ornaments, which could bring in about two to three thousand rupees. My brother promised to find the money somehow.

My mother, however, was still unwilling. She had begun making minute inquiries. Some one had told her that young men got lost in England. Some one else had said that they took to meat; and yet another that they could not live there without liquor. ‘How about all this?’ she asked me. I said: ‘Will you not trust me? I shall not lie to you. I swear that I shall not touch any of those things. If there were any such danger, would Joshiji let me go?’

My mother, however, was still unwilling to let me go. She had begun asking detailed questions. Someone had told her that young men lost their way in England. Someone else had said they began eating meat. Yet another person had said they could not live there without alcohol. ‘What about all this?’ she asked me. I said: ‘Won’t you trust me? I won’t lie to you. I swear I won’t touch any of those things. If there were any such danger, would Joshiji let me go?’

‘I can trust you,’ she said. ‘But how can I trust you in a distant land? I am dazed and know not what to do. I will ask Becharji Swami.’

‘I can trust you,’ she said. ‘But how can I trust you in a distant land? I am confused and don’t know what to do. I will ask Becharji Swami.’

Becharji Swami was originally a Modh Bania, but had now become a Jain monk. He too was a family adviser like Joshiji. He came to my help, and said: ‘I shall get the boy solemnly to take the three vows, and then he can be allowed to go.’ He administered the oath and I vowed not to touch wine, woman and meat. This done, my mother gave her permission.

Becharji Swami was originally a Modh Bania, but he had become a Jain monk. Like Joshiji, he was also a family adviser. He came to my help and said: ‘I will have the boy solemnly take the three vows. Then he can be allowed to go.’ He administered the oath, and I vowed not to touch wine, women, or meat. After I took the vows, my mother gave her permission.

The High School had a send-off in my honour. It was an uncommon thing for a young man of Rajkot to go to England. I had written out a few words of thanks. But I could scarcely stammer them out. I remember how my head reeled and how my whole frame shook as I stood up to read them.

The High School held a farewell for me. It was unusual for a young man from Rajkot to go to England. I had written a few words of thanks. But I could barely stammer them out. I remember how my head spun and my whole body shook as I stood up to read them.

With the blessings of my elders, I started for Bombay. This was my first journey from Rajkot to Bombay. My brother accompanied me. But there is many a slip ‘twixt the cup and the lip. There were difficulties to be faced in Bombay.

With my elders' blessings, I set out for Bombay. It was my first journey there from Rajkot. My brother came with me. But things do not always go as planned. I would face difficulties in Bombay.