Kumbha Mela

I next went to Rangoon, where I wanted to meet Dr. Mehta, and on my way I halted at Calcutta. I was the guest of the late Babu Bhupendranath Basu. Bengali hospitality reached its climax here. In those days I was a strict fruitarian, so all the fruits and nuts available in Calcutta were ordered for me. The ladies of the house kept awake all night skinning various nuts. Every possible care was taken in dressing fresh fruit in the Indian style. Numerous delicacies were prepared for my companions, amongst whom was my son Ramdas. Much as I could appreciate this affectionate hospitality, I could not bear the thought of a whole household being occupied in entertaining two or three guests. But as yet I saw no escape from such embarrassing attentions.

I next traveled to Rangoon to meet Dr. Mehta, stopping in Calcutta on the way. I stayed with the late Babu Bhupendranath Basu. Bengali hospitality reached its peak there. At the time, I ate only fruit and nuts, so my hosts ordered all the fruits and nuts available in Calcutta. The women of the house stayed up all night peeling various nuts. They took every possible care in preparing fresh fruit in the Indian style. They also prepared many delicacies for my companions, including my son Ramdas. Though I appreciated their affectionate hospitality, I could not bear the thought of a whole household being busy entertaining two or three guests. But I could not yet see a way to escape such embarrassing attention.

On the boat going to Rangoon I was a deck passenger. If excess of attention embarrassed us in Sjt. Basu’s house, grossest inattention, even to the elementary comforts of deck passengers, was our lot on the boat. What was an apology for a bath room was unbearably dirty, the latrines were stinking sinks. To use the latrine one had to wade through urine and excreta or jump over them.

On the boat to Rangoon, I traveled as a deck passenger. At Sjt. Basu’s house, too much attention had embarrassed us. On the boat, by contrast, even the most basic comforts of deck passengers were utterly neglected. The room that passed for a bathroom was unbearably dirty, and the latrines were stinking pits. To use a latrine, one had to wade through urine and excrement or jump over them.

This was more than flesh and blood could bear. I approached the Chief Officer without avail. If anything was lacking to complete the picture of stink and filth, the passengers furnished it by their thoughtless habits. They spat where they sat, dirtied the surroundings with the leavings of their food, tobacco and betel leaves. There was no end to the noise, and every one tried to monopolise as much room as possible. Their luggage took up more room than they. We had thus two days of the severest trial.

This was more than anyone could bear. I went to the Chief Officer, but it did no good. If anything was needed to complete the picture of stench and filth, the passengers supplied it through their thoughtless habits. They spat where they sat and littered the area with scraps of food, tobacco, and betel leaves. The noise never stopped, and everyone tried to take up as much room as possible. Their luggage took up more room than they did. So we endured two days of the most severe hardship.

On reaching Rangoon I wrote to the Agent of the Steamship Company, acquainting him with all the facts. Thanks to this letter and to Dr. Mehta’s efforts in the matter, the return journey though on deck was less unbearable.

When I reached Rangoon, I wrote to the steamship company’s agent and told him all the facts. Thanks to my letter and Dr. Mehta’s efforts, the return journey was less unbearable, though I traveled on deck.

In Rangoon my fruitarian diet was again a source of additional trouble to the host. But since Dr. Mehta’s home was as good as my own, I could control somewhat the lavishness of the menu. However as I had not set any limit to the articles I might eat, the palate and the eye refused to put an effective check on the supply of varieties ordered. There were no regular hours for meals. Personally I preferred having the last meal before nightfall. Nevertheless as a rule it could not be had before eight or nine.

In Rangoon, my fruitarian diet again caused my host extra trouble. But Dr. Mehta’s home felt like my own, so I could keep the menu from becoming quite so lavish. Still, I had not limited the kinds of food I could eat. My appetite and my eyes could not effectively limit the variety of foods ordered. There were no regular meal times. I preferred to have the last meal before nightfall. Even so, we usually could not have it before eight or nine.

This year—1915—was the year of the Kumbha fair which is held at Hardvar once every 12 years. I was by no means eager to attend the fair, but I was anxious to meet Mahatma Munshiramji who was in his Gurukul. Gokhale’s Society had sent a big volunteer corps for service at the Kumbha. Pandit Hridayanath Kunzru was at the head, and the late Dr. Dev was the medical officer. I was invited to send the Phœnix party to assist them and so Maganlal Gandhi had already preceded me. On my return from Rangoon, I joined the band.

In 1915, the Kumbha fair was held at Hardvar, as it is every 12 years. I was not at all eager to attend the fair. But I was anxious to meet Mahatma Munshiramji at his Gurukul. Gokhale’s Society had sent a large volunteer group to serve at the Kumbha. Pandit Hridayanath Kunzru led the group, and the late Dr. Dev was its medical officer. I was invited to send the Phœnix party to help them, so Maganlal Gandhi had already gone ahead of me. On my return from Rangoon, I joined the group.

The journey from Calcutta to Hardvar was particularly trying. Sometimes the compartments had no lights. From Saharanpur we were huddled into carriages for goods or cattle. These had no roofs, and what with the blazing midday sun overhead and the scorching iron floor beneath, we were all but roasted. The pangs of thirst, caused by even such a journey as this, could not persuade orthodox Hindus to take water, if it was ‘Musalmani.’ They waited until they could get the ‘Hindu’ water. These very Hindus, let it be noted, do not so much as hesitate or inquire, when during illness the doctor administers them wine, or prescribes beef tea or a Musalman or Christian compounder gives them water.

The journey from Calcutta to Hardvar was especially difficult. Sometimes the train compartments had no lights. From Saharanpur, we were crowded into carriages meant for goods or cattle. They had no roofs, and we were almost roasted by the blazing midday sun above and the scorching iron floor below. Even the thirst caused by such a journey could not persuade orthodox Hindus to drink water if it was ‘Musalmani.’ They waited until they could get ‘Hindu’ water. Yet these same Hindus do not even hesitate or ask questions when a doctor gives them wine or prescribes beef tea during an illness. Nor do they hesitate when a Musalman or Christian compounder gives them water.

Our stay in Shantiniketan had taught us that the scavenger’s work would be our special function in India. Now for the volunteers in Hardvar tents had been pitched in a dharmashala, and Dr. Dev had dug some pits to be used as latrines. He had had to depend on paid scavengers for looking after these. Here was work for the Phœnix party. We offered to cover up the excreta with earth and to see to their disposal, and Dr. Dev gladly accepted our offer. The offer was naturally made by me, but it was Maganlal Gandhi who had to execute it. My business was mostly to keep sitting in the tent giving darshan and holding religious and other discussions with numerous pilgrims who called on me. This left me not a minute which I could call my own. I was followed even to the bathing ghat by these darshan seekers, nor did they leave me alone whilst I was having my meals. Thus it was in Hardvar that I realised what a deep impression my humble services in South Africa had made throughout the whole of India.

Our stay in Shantiniketan had taught us that sanitation work would be our special task in India. In Hardvar, tents had been set up for the volunteers in a dharmashala, a lodging house. Dr. Dev had dug some pits to use as latrines. He had had to rely on paid sanitation workers to look after them. Here was work for the Phœnix party. We offered to cover the excrement with earth and see to its disposal. Dr. Dev gladly accepted our offer. Naturally, I made the offer, but Maganlal Gandhi had to carry out the work. My task was mostly to sit in the tent, giving darshan to visitors and holding religious and other discussions. Numerous pilgrims came to see me. These visits and discussions left me not a minute I could call my own. People seeking darshan even followed me to the bathing ghat, the steps down to the water. They did not leave me alone while I ate, either. So it was in Hardvar that I realized how deeply my humble services in South Africa had impressed people throughout India.

But this was no enviable position to be in. I felt as though I was between the devil and the deep sea. Where no one recognised me, I had to put up with the hardships that fall to the lot of the millions in this land, e.g., in railway travelling. Where I was surrounded by people who had heard of me I was the victim of their craze for darshan. Which of the two conditions was more pitiable, I have often been at a loss to determine. This at least I know that the darshanvalas' blind love has often made me angry, and more often sore at heart. Whereas travelling, though often trying, has been uplifting and has hardly ever roused me to anger.

But this was not a position anyone would envy. I felt caught between the devil and the deep sea. Where no one recognized me, I had to endure the hardships faced by millions in this land, e.g., when traveling by train. Where I was surrounded by people who had heard of me, I was a victim of their craze for darshan. I have often been unable to decide which situation was more pitiable. At least I know that the darshanvalas' blind love has often made me angry and, more often, saddened me deeply. Traveling, though often difficult, has been uplifting and has hardly ever made me angry.

I was in those days strong enough to roam about a lot, and was fortunately not so known as not to be able to go in the streets without creating much fuss. During these roamings I came to observe more of the pilgrims’ absent-mindedness, hypocrisy and slovenliness, than of their piety. The swarm of sadhus, who had descended there, seemed to have been born but to enjoy the good things of life.

In those days, I was strong enough to walk around a lot. Fortunately, I was not so well known that I could not walk the streets without causing much fuss. On these walks, I noticed more absent-mindedness, hypocrisy, and sloppiness among the pilgrims than piety. The crowd of sadhus who had come there seemed to have been born only to enjoy the good things in life.

Here I saw a cow with five feet! I was astonished, but knowing men soon disillusioned me. The poor five-footed cow was a sacrifice to the greed of the wicked. I learnt that the fifth foot was nothing else but a foot cut off from a live calf and grafted upon the shoulder of the cow! The result of this double cruelty was exploited to fleece the ignorant of their money. There was no Hindu but would be attracted by a five-footed cow, and no Hindu but would lavish his charity on such a miraculous cow.

Here I saw a cow with five feet! I was astonished, but people who knew better soon showed me the truth. The poor five-footed cow was a victim of wicked people’s greed. I learned that the fifth foot had been cut off a live calf and grafted onto the cow’s shoulder! They used the result of this double cruelty to cheat ignorant people out of their money. Every Hindu would be drawn to a five-footed cow, and every Hindu would give generously to such a miraculous cow.

The day of the fair was now upon us. It proved a red letter day for me. I had not gone to Hardvar with the sentiments of a pilgrim. I have never thought of frequenting places of pilgrimage in search of piety. But the seventeen lakhs of men that were reported to be there could not all be hypocrites or mere sightseers. I had no doubt that countless people amongst them had gone there to earn merit, and for self-purification. It is difficult, if not impossible, to say to what extent this kind of faith uplifts the soul.

The day of the fair had arrived. It proved to be a memorable day for me. I had not gone to Hardvar feeling like a pilgrim. I have never believed in visiting places of pilgrimage in search of piety. But the 1.7 million people reportedly there could not all have been hypocrites or mere sightseers. I had no doubt that countless people had gone there to earn religious merit and purify themselves. It is difficult, if not impossible, to say how much this kind of faith uplifts the soul.

I therefore passed the whole night immersed in deep thought. There were those pious souls in the midst of the hypocrisy that surrounded them. They would be free of guilt before their Maker. If the visit to Hardvar was in itself a sin, I must publicly protest against it, and leave Hardvar on the day of Kumbha. If the pilgrimage to Hardvar and to the Kumbha fair was not sinful, I must impose some act of self-denial on myself in atonement for the iniquity prevailing there, and purify myself. This was quite natural for me. My life is based on disciplinary resolutions. I thought of the unnecessary trouble I had caused to my hosts at Calcutta and Rangoon, who had so lavishly entertained me. I therefore decided to limit the articles of my diet and to have my final meal before sunset. I was convinced that if I did not impose these restrictions on myself, I should put my future hosts to considerable inconvenience and should engage them in serving me rather than engage myself in service. So I pledged myself never whilst in India to take more than five articles in twenty four hours, and never to eat after dark. I gave the fullest thought to the difficulties I might have to face. But I wanted to leave no loophole. I rehearsed to myself what would happen during an illness, if I counted medicine among the five articles, and made no exception in favour of special articles of diet. I finally decided that there should be no exception on any account whatsoever.

So I spent the whole night deep in thought. Among the hypocrisy around them, there were devout souls. They would be free of guilt before their Maker. If visiting Hardvar was itself a sin, I had to protest against the visit publicly and leave Hardvar on the day of Kumbha. If the pilgrimage to Hardvar and the Kumbha fair was not sinful, I had to practice some self-denial. This would make amends for the wrongdoing there and purify me. This was quite natural for me. My life is guided by resolutions that require self-discipline. I thought of the unnecessary trouble I had caused my hosts in Calcutta and Rangoon. They had entertained me so lavishly. So I decided to limit the foods I ate and have my last meal before sunset. I was convinced that, without these restrictions, I would cause my future hosts considerable inconvenience. I would keep them busy serving me instead of spending my own time in service. So I pledged that, while in India, I would never consume more than five items in twenty-four hours. I also pledged never to eat after dark. I thought carefully about the difficulties I might face. But I wanted to leave no loophole. I considered what would happen if I became ill and counted medicine among the five items. I also considered what would happen if I made no exception for special foods. In the end, I decided there would be no exceptions for any reason whatsoever.

I have been under these vows for now thirteen years. They have subjected me to a severe test, but I am able to testify that they have also served as my shield. I am of opinion that they have added a few years to my life and saved me from many an illness.

I have kept these vows for thirteen years now. They have tested me severely, but I can say that they have also protected me. I believe they have added a few years to my life and saved me from many illnesses.