Settled in Bombay?

Gokhale was very anxious, that I should settle down in Bombay, practise at the bar and help him in public work. Public work in those days meant Congress work, and the chief work of the institution which he had assisted to found was carrying on the Congress administration.

Gokhale was very eager for me to settle in Bombay, practice law, and help him with public work. In those days, public work meant Congress work. The institution he had helped found was mainly responsible for running Congress affairs.

I liked Grokhale’s advice, but I was not over-confident of success as a barrister. The unpleasant memories of past failure were yet with me, and I still hated as poison the use of flattery for getting briefs.

I liked Grokhale’s advice, but I was not very confident that I would succeed as a barrister. The painful memories of past failure were still with me, and I still hated using flattery to get legal work as much as I hated poison.

I therefore decided to start work first at Rajkot. Kevalram Mavji Dave, my old well-wisher, who had induced me to go to England, was there, and he started me straight away with three briefs. Two of them were appeals before the Judicial Assistant to the Political Agent in Kathiawad and one was an original case in Jamnagar. This last was rather important. On my saying that I could not trust myself to do it justice, Kevalram Dave exclaimed: ‘Winning or losing is no concern of yours. You will simply try your best, and I am, of course, there to assist you.’

So I decided to begin working in Rajkot. My old well-wisher, Kevalram Mavji Dave, was there. He had persuaded me to go to England, and he immediately gave me three cases. Two were appeals before the Judicial Assistant to the Political Agent in Kathiawad. The third was a case being heard for the first time in Jamnagar. The Jamnagar case was fairly important. I said I did not trust myself to handle it properly. Kevalram Dave exclaimed: ‘Winning or losing is not your concern. Just do your best, and of course I will be there to help you.’

The counsel on the other side was the late Sjt. Samarth. I was fairly well prepared. Not that I knew much of Indian law, but Kevalram Dave had instructed me very thoroughly. I had heard friends say, before I went out to South Africa, that Sir Phirozeshah Mehta had the law of evidence at his fingertips and that that was the secret of his success. I had borne this in mind, and during the voyage had carefully studied the Indian Evidence Act with commentaries thereon. There was, of course, also the advantage of my legal experience in South Africa.

The opposing lawyer was the late Sjt. Samarth. I was fairly well prepared. I did not know much about Indian law, but Kevalram Dave had briefed me very thoroughly. Before I went to South Africa, I had heard friends say that Sir Phirozeshah Mehta knew the law of evidence inside out. They said that was the secret of his success. I had kept this in mind. During the voyage, I had carefully studied the Indian Evidence Act and commentaries on it. Of course, I also had the benefit of my legal experience in South Africa.

I won the case, and gained some confidence in myself. I had no fear about the appeals which were successful. All this inspired a hope in me, that after all I might not fail even in Bombay.

I won the case and gained some confidence in myself. I had no fear about the appeals, which were successful. All this gave me hope that I might not fail in Bombay after all.

But before I set forth the circumstances in which I decided to go to Bombay, I shall narrate my experience of the inconsiderateness and ignorance of English officials. The Judicial Assistant’s court was peripatetic. He was constantly touring, and vakils and their clients had to follow him wherever he moved his camp. The vakils would charge more whenever they had to go out of head-quarters, and so the clients had naturally to incur double the expenses. The inconvenience was no concern of the judge.

But before I explain why I decided to go to Bombay, I will describe my experience of the thoughtlessness and ignorance of English officials. The Judicial Assistant’s court traveled from place to place. He was constantly touring, and vakils and their clients had to follow him wherever he set up camp. The vakils charged more whenever they had to leave their headquarters, so their clients naturally had to pay twice as much. The judge was not concerned about the inconvenience.

The appeal of which I am talking was to be heard at Veraval where plague was raging. I have a recollection that there were as many as fifty cases daily in the place with a population of 5,500. It was practically deserted, and I put up in a deserted dharmashala at some distance from the town. But where were the clients to stay? If they were poor, they had simply to trust themselves to God’s mercy.

The appeal I am speaking of was to be heard in Veraval, where plague was raging. I remember that there were as many as fifty cases a day in the town, which had 5,500 residents. Veraval was practically deserted, and I stayed in a deserted dharmashala some distance from town. But where were the clients to stay? If they were poor, they simply had to trust themselves to God’s mercy.

A friend, who also had cases before the court, had wired, that I should put in an application for the camp to be moved to some other station, because of the plague at Veraval. On my submitting the application, the sahib asked me: ‘Are you afraid?’

A friend who also had cases before the court had sent me a telegram. He said I should apply to have the camp moved to another station because of the plague at Veraval. When I submitted the application, the sahib asked me: ‘Are you afraid?’

I answered: ‘It is not a question of my being afraid. I think I can shift for myself, but what about the clients?’

I replied: ‘It is not that I am afraid. I think I can manage on my own, but what about the clients?’

‘The plague has come to stay in India, replied the sahib. ‘Why fear it? The climate of Veraval is lovely. [The sahib lived far away from the town in a palatial tent pitched on the seashore.] Surely people must learn to live thus in the open.’

‘The plague is here to stay in India,’ replied the sahib. ‘Why fear it? The climate of Veraval is lovely. [The sahib lived far from town in a luxurious tent on the seashore.] Surely people must learn to live like this, in the open.’

It was no use arguing against this philosophy. The sahib told his shirastedar: ‘Make a note of what Mr. Gandhi says, and let me know if it is very inconvenient for the vakils or the clients.’

There was no point arguing against this philosophy. The sahib told his shirastedar: ‘Make a note of what Mr. Gandhi says. Let me know if it is very inconvenient for the vakils or their clients.’

The sahib of course had honestly done what he thought was the right thing. But how could the man have an idea of the hardships of poor India? How was he to understand the needs, habits, idiosyncrasies and customs of the people? How was one, accustomed to measure things in gold sovereigns, all at once to make calculations in tiny bits of copper? As the elephant is powerless to think in the terms of the ant, in spite of the best intentions in the world, even so is the Englishman with the needs of an elephant, powerless to think in the terms of, or legislate for, the Indian, with the needs of an ant.

The sahib had, of course, honestly done what he thought was right. But how could he know about the hardships of poor India? How could he understand the people’s needs, habits, quirks, and customs? How could someone used to measuring things in gold sovereigns suddenly make calculations in tiny bits of copper? An elephant cannot think in terms of an ant, despite the best intentions in the world. In the same way, an Englishman with the needs of an elephant cannot think in terms of an Indian with the needs of an ant, or make laws for the Indian.

But to resume the thread of the story. In spite of my successes, I had been thinking of staying on in Rajkot for some time longer, when one day Kevalram Dave came to me and said: ‘Gandhi, we will not suffer you to vegetate here. You must settle in Bombay.’

But to return to the story. Despite my successes, I was thinking of staying in Rajkot a little longer. Then one day Kevalram Dave came to me and said: ‘Gandhi, we will not let you waste away here. You must settle in Bombay.’

‘But who will find work for me there?’ I asked. ‘Will you find the expenses?’

‘But who will find me work there?’ I asked. ‘Will you pay the expenses?’

‘Yes, yes, I will,’ said he. ‘We shall bring you down here sometimes as a big barrister from Bombay, and drafting work we shall send you there. It lies with us vakils to magnify or belittle a barrister. You have proved your worth in Jamnagar and Veraval, and I have therefore not the least anxiety about you. You are destined to do public work, and we will not allow you to be buried in Kathiawad. So tell me, then, when you will go to Bombay.’

‘Yes, yes, I will,’ he said. ‘We will sometimes bring you here as a leading barrister from Bombay. We will also send you drafting work there. We vakils can make or break a barrister’s reputation. You have proved your worth in Jamnagar and Veraval, so I have no worries about you. You are destined to do public work, and we will not let you be buried in Kathiawad. So tell me, when will you go to Bombay?’

‘I am expecting a remittance from Natal. As soon as I get it I will go,’ I replied.

‘I am expecting money from Natal. As soon as I receive it, I will go,’ I replied.

The money came in about two weeks, and I went to Bombay. I took chambers in Payne, Gilbert and Sayani’s offices and it looked as though I had settled down.

The money arrived in about two weeks, and I went to Bombay. I rented office space in Payne, Gilbert and Sayani’s offices, and it seemed I had settled down.