Balasundaram

The heart’s earnest and pure desire is always fulfilled. In my own experience, I have often seen this rule being verified. Service of the poor has been my heart’s desire, and it has always thrown me amongst the poor, and enabled me to identify myself with them.

A sincere and pure desire of the heart is always fulfilled. I have often seen this proved in my own experience. My heart’s desire has been to serve the poor. This desire has always brought me among them and helped me identify with them.

Although the members of the Natal Indian Congress included the Colonial-born Indians and the clerical class, the unskilled wage-earners, the indentured labourers, were still outside its pale. The Congress was not yet theirs. They could not afford to belong to it by paying the subscription and becoming its members. The Congress could win their attachment only by serving them. An opportunity offered itself, when neither the Congress nor I was really ready for it. I had put in scarcely three or four months’ practice, and the Congress also was still in its infancy, when a Tamil man in tattered clothes, head-gear in hand, two front teeth broken and his mouth bleeding, stood before me trembling and weeping. He had been heavily belaboured by his master. I learnt all about him from my clerk who was a Tamilian. Balasundaram,—as that was the visitor’s name,—was serving his indenture under a well-known European resident of Durban. The master getting angry with him had lost selfcontrol, and had beaten Balasundaram severely, breaking two of his teeth.

Although the Natal Indian Congress included colonial-born Indians and clerical workers, unskilled wage earners, the indentured laborers, remained outside it. The Congress was not yet theirs. They could not afford to pay the subscription required for membership. The Congress could win their loyalty only by serving them. An opportunity arose when neither the Congress nor I was really ready for it. I had been practicing law for barely three or four months, and the Congress was still in its infancy. One day, a Tamil man stood before me, trembling and weeping. His clothes were in tatters, and he held his headgear in his hand. Two of his front teeth were broken, and his mouth was bleeding. His master had beaten him severely. I learned all about him from my clerk, who was a Tamilian. The visitor’s name was Balasundaram. He was serving under an indenture to a well-known European resident of Durban. His master had become angry and lost control of himself. He had beaten Balasundaram severely, breaking two of his teeth.

I sent him to a doctor. In those days only white doctors were available. I wanted a certificate from the doctor about the nature of the injury Balasundaram had sustained. I secured the certificate, and straightway took the injured man to the magistrate, to whom I submitted his affidavit. The magistrate was indignant when he read it, and issued a summons against the employer.

I sent him to a doctor. In those days, only white doctors were available. I wanted a doctor’s certificate describing Balasundaram’s injury. After getting the certificate, I immediately took the injured man to the magistrate and submitted his affidavit. The magistrate was outraged when he read the affidavit and issued a summons against the employer.

It was far from my desire to get the employer punished. I simply wanted Balasundaram to be released from him. I read the law about indentured labour. If an ordinary servant left service without giving notice, he was liable to be sued by his master in a civil court. With the indentured labourer the case was entirely different. He was liable, in similar circumstances, to be proceeded against in a criminal court and to be imprisoned on conviction. That is why Sir William Hunter called the indenture system almost as bad as slavery. Like the slave the indentured labourer was the property of his master.

I had no desire to have the employer punished. I simply wanted Balasundaram to be free of him. I read the law on indentured labor. If an ordinary servant left without giving notice, the employer could sue him in a civil court. But the situation was entirely different for an indentured laborer. In similar circumstances, he could be tried in a criminal court and imprisoned if convicted. That is why Sir William Hunter called the indenture system almost as bad as slavery. Like a slave, an indentured laborer was the property of his master.

There were only two ways of releasing Balasundaram: either by getting the Protector of Indentured Labourers to cancel his indenture or transfer him to some one else, or by getting Balasundaram’s employer to release him. I called on the latter and said to him: ‘I do not want to proceed against you and get you punished. I think you realise, that you have severely beaten the man. I shall be satisfied if you will transfer the indenture to some one else.’ To this he readily agreed. I next saw the Protector. He also agreed, on condition that I found a new employer.

There were only two ways to free Balasundaram. The Protector of Indentured Labourers could cancel his indenture or transfer it to someone else. Or his employer could release him. I visited his employer and said: ‘I do not want to take action against you or have you punished. I think you realize that you have severely beaten the man. I shall be satisfied if you transfer the indenture to someone else.’ He readily agreed. I then saw the Protector. He also agreed, on the condition that I find a new employer.

So I went off in search of an employer. He had to be a European, as no Indians could employ indentured labour. At that time I knew very few Europeans. I met one of them. He very kindly agreed to take on Balasundaram. I gratefully acknowledged his kindness. The magistrate convicted Balasundaram’s employer, and recorded that he had undertaken to transfer the indenture to some one else.

So I went looking for an employer. The employer had to be European because Indians could not employ indentured workers. At the time, I knew very few Europeans. I met one of them, and he kindly agreed to take on Balasundaram. I thanked him for his kindness. The magistrate convicted Balasundaram’s employer and recorded that the employer had agreed to transfer the indenture to someone else.

Balasundaram’s case reached the ears of every indentured labourer, and I came to be regarded as their friend. I hailed this connection with delight. A regular stream of indentured labourers began to pour into my office, and I got the best opportunity of learning their joys and sorrows.

Every indentured labourer heard about Balasundaram’s case, and they came to see me as their friend. I was delighted by this connection. A steady stream of indentured labourers began coming to my office. This gave me the best opportunity to learn about their joys and sorrows.

The echoes of Balasundaram’s case were heard in far off Madras. Labourers from different parts of the province, who went to Natal on indenture, came to know of this case through their indentured brethren.

News of Balasundaram’s case reached as far as Madras. Labourers from different parts of the province went to Natal under indenture. They learned of the case from fellow indentured labourers.

There was nothing extraordinary in the case itself, but the fact, that there was some one in Natal to espouse their cause and publicly work for them, gave the indentured labourers a joyful surprise, and inspired them with hope.

There was nothing unusual about the case itself. But the indentured laborers were joyfully surprised that someone in Natal would support their cause and work publicly for them. This gave them hope.

I have said, that Balasundaram entered my office, head-gear in hand. There was a peculiar pathos about the circumstance, which also showed our humiliation. I have already narrated the incident, when I was asked to take off my turban. A practice had been forced upon every indentured labourer and every Indian stranger to take off his head-gear when visiting a European, whether the head-gear were a cap, a turban or a scarf wrapped round the head. A salute even with both hands was not sufficient. Balasundaram thought that he should follow the practice even with me. This was the first case in my experience. I felt humiliated, and asked him to tie up his scarf. He did so, not without a certain hesitation, but I could perceive the pleasure on his face.

As I have said, Balasundaram entered my office with his head covering in his hand. There was something deeply moving about this, and it also showed our humiliation. I have already described the incident when I was asked to take off my turban. Every indentured laborer and every Indian stranger had been forced to remove his head covering when visiting a European. This applied whether he wore a cap, a turban, or a scarf wrapped around his head. Even a salute with both hands was not enough. Balasundaram thought he should follow the practice even with me. This was the first time I had experienced this. I felt humiliated and asked him to tie his scarf back on. He hesitated a little, but he did so, and I could see the pleasure on his face.

It has always been a mystery to me how men can feel themselves honoured by the humiliation of their fellow-beings.

I have always wondered how people can feel honored when others are humiliated.