In the Congress

In the Congress at last. The immense pavilion and the volunteers in stately array, as also the elders seated on the dais, overwhelmed me. I wondered where I should be in that vast assemblage.

At last, I was at the Congress. The enormous pavilion, the volunteers lined up in dignified formation, and the elders seated on the platform overwhelmed me. I wondered where I belonged in that vast crowd.

The presidential address was a book by itself. To read it from cover to cover was out of the question. Only a few passages were therefore read.

The presidential address was a book in itself. Reading it from beginning to end was out of the question. So only a few passages were read.

After this came the election of the Subjects Committee. Gokhale took me to the Committee meetings.

Next came the election of the Subjects Committee. Gokhale took me to the committee meetings.

Sir Phirozeshah had of course agreed to admit my resolution, but I was wondering who would put it before the Subjects Committee, and when. For there were lengthy speeches to every resolution, all in English to boot, and every resolution had some well-known leader to back it. Mine was but a feeble pipe amongst those veteran drums, and as the night was closing in, my heart beat fast. The resolutions coming at the fag-end were, so far as I can recollect, rushed through at lightning speed. Every one was hurrying to go. It was 11 o’clock. I had not the courage to speak. I had already met Gokhale who had looked at my resolution. So I drew near his chair and whispered to him: ‘Please do something for me.’ He said: ‘Your resolution is not out of my mind. You see the way they are rushing through the resolutions. But I will not allow yours to be passed over.’

Sir Phirozeshah had, of course, agreed to admit my resolution. But I wondered who would present it to the Subjects Committee, and when. Every resolution was accompanied by lengthy speeches, all in English, and each had a well-known leader to support it. My voice was just a feeble pipe among those veteran drums. As the night wore on, my heart beat fast. As far as I can remember, the resolutions at the end were rushed through at lightning speed. Everyone was hurrying to leave. It was 11 o’clock, and I did not have the courage to speak. I had already met Gokhale, who had looked at my resolution. So I went up to his chair and whispered: ‘Please do something for me.’ He said: ‘I have not forgotten your resolution. You can see how they are rushing through the resolutions. But I will not let them pass yours over.’

So we have done?’ said Sir Phirozeshah Mehta.

So we have done?’ said Sir Phirozeshah Mehta.

‘No, no, there is still the resolution on South Africa. Mr. Gandhi has been waiting long,’ cried out Gokhale.

‘No, no, there is still the resolution on South Africa. Mr. Gandhi has been waiting a long time,’ Gokhale cried out.

‘Have you seen the resolution?’ asked Sir Phirozeshah.

‘Have you seen the resolution?’ asked Sir Phirozeshah.

‘Of course.’

‘Of course.’

‘Do you like it?’

‘Do you like it?’

‘It is quite good.’

‘It is quite good.’

‘Well then, let us have it, Gandhi.’

‘All right, Gandhi, let’s hear it.’

I read it trembling.

I trembled as I read it.

Gokhale supported it.

Gokhale supported it.

‘Unanimously passed,’ cried out every one.

‘Passed unanimously,’ everyone cried.

‘You will have five minutes to speak to it, Gandhi,’ said Mr. Wachha.

‘You will have five minutes to speak about it, Gandhi,’ said Mr. Wachha.

The procedure was far from pleasing to me. No one had troubled to understand the resolution, every one was in a hurry to go, and because Gokhale had seen the resolution, it was not thought necessary for the rest to see it or understand it!

I was far from pleased with the way things were done. No one had bothered to understand the resolution. Everyone was in a hurry to leave. Because Gokhale had seen the resolution, no one thought the others needed to see or understand it!

The morning found me worrying about my speech. What was I to say in five minutes? I had prepared myself fairly well, but the words would not come to me. I had decided not to read my speech but to speak ex tempore. But the facility for speaking that I had acquired in South Africa seemed to have left me for the moment.

That morning, I worried about my speech. What could I say in five minutes? I had prepared fairly well, but the words would not come. I had decided not to read my speech, but to speak without notes. But the ease of speaking I had gained in South Africa seemed to have left me for the moment.

As soon as it was time for my resolution, Mr. Wachha called out my name. I stood up. My head was reeling. I read the resolution somehow. Some one had printed and distributed amongst the delegates copies of a poem he had written in praise of foreign emigration. I read the poem and referred to the grievances of the settlers in South Africa. Just at this moment Mr. Wachha rang the bell. I was sure I had not yet spoken for five minutes. I did not know, that the bell was rung in order to warn me to finish in two minutes more. I had heard others speak for half an hour or three quarters of an hour, and yet no bell was rung for them. I felt hurt, and sat down no sooner than the bell was rung. But my childlike intellect thought then, that the poem contained an answer to Sir Phirozeshah.¹⁷ There was no question about the passing of the resolution. In those days there was hardly any difference between visitors and delegates. Every one raised his hand and all resolutions passed unanimously. My resolution also fared in this wise, and so lost all its importance for me. And yet the very fact, that it was passed by the Congress, was enough to delight my heart. The knowledge, that the imprimatur of the Congress meant that of the whole country, was enough to delight any one.

As soon as it was time for my resolution, Mr. Wachha called my name. I stood up. My head was spinning. Somehow, I read the resolution. Someone had written a poem praising emigration abroad and had printed and distributed copies to the delegates. I read the poem and spoke about the grievances of the settlers in South Africa. Just then Mr. Wachha rang the bell. I was sure I had not yet spoken for five minutes. I did not know the bell was a warning to finish within two more minutes. I had heard others speak for half an hour or three quarters of an hour without a bell being rung. I felt hurt and sat down as soon as the bell rang. But in my childlike understanding, I thought the poem answered Sir Phirozeshah.¹⁷ There was no question that the resolution would pass. In those days, there was hardly any difference between visitors and delegates. Everyone raised their hand, and all resolutions passed unanimously. My resolution passed in the same way, and so it lost all importance for me. And yet, the mere fact that Congress had passed it was enough to delight my heart. Knowing that the imprimatur of Congress meant the approval of the whole country was enough to delight anyone.