5. RESULT OF INTROSPECTION
When in 1893 I came in
close contact with Christian friends, I was a mere novice. They tried hard
to bring home to me, and make me accept, the message of Jesus, and I was
a humble and respectful listener with an open mind. At that time I naturally
studied Hinduism to the best of my ability, and endeavoured to understand
other religions.
In 1903 the position was somewhat
changed. Theosophist friends certainly intended to draw me into their society,
but that was with a view to getting something from me as a Hindu. Theosophical
literature is replete with Hindu influence, and so these friends expected
that I should be helpful to them. I explained that my Samskrit study was
not much to speak of, that I had not read the Hindu scriptures in the original,
and that even my acquaintance with the translations was of the slightest.
But being believers in samskara (tendencies caused by previous births)
and punarjanma (rebirth), they assumed that I should be able to
render at least some help. And so I felt like a Triton among the minnows.
I started reading Swami Vivekananda's Rajayoga with some of these
friends, and M. N. Dvivedi's Rajayoga with others. I had to read
Patanjali's Yoga Sutras with one friend, and the Bhagavad Gita
with quite a number. We formed a sort of Seekers' Club where we had regular
readings. I already had faith in the Gita, which had a fascination for
me. Now I realized the necessity of diving deeper into it. I had one or
two translations, by means of which I tried to understand the original
Samskrit. I decided also to get by heart one or two verses every day. For
this purpose I employed the time of my morning ablutions. The operation
took me thirty-five minutes, fifteen minutes for the tooth brush and twenty
for the bath. The first I used to do standing in western fashion. So on
the wall opposite I stuck slips of paper on which were written the Gita
verses, and referred to them now and then to help my memory. This time
was found sufficient for memorizing the daily portion and recalling the
verses already learnt. I remember having thus committed to memory thirteen
chapters. But the memorizing of the Gita had to give way to other work
and the creation and nurture of Satyagraha, which absorbed all my thinking
time, as the latter may be said to be doing even now.
What effect this reading of
the Gita had on my friends only they can say, but to me the Gita became
an infallible guide of conduct. It became my dictionary of daily reference.
Just as I turned to the English dictionary for the meanings of English
words that I did not understand, I turned to this dictionary of conduct
for a ready solution of all my troubles and trials. Words like aparigraha
(non-possession) and samabhava (equability) gripped me. How to cultivate
and preserve that equability was the question. How was one to treat alike
insulting, insolent, and corrupt officials, co-workers of yesterday raising
meaningless opposition, and men who had always been good to one? How was
one
to divest oneself of all possessions? Was not the body itself possession
enough? Were not wife and children possessions? Was I to destroy all the
cupboards of books I had? Was I to give up all I had and follow Him? Straight
came the answer: I could not follow Him unless I gave up all I had. My
study of English law came to my help. Snell's discussion of the maxims
of equity came to my memory. I understood more clearly in the light of
the Gita teaching the implication of the word 'trustee'. My regard for
jurisprudence increased, I discovered in it religion. I understood the
Gita teaching of non-possession to mean that those who desired salvation
should act like the trustee who, though having control over great possessions,
regards not an iota of them as his own. It became clear to me as daylight
that non-possession and equability presupposed a change of heart, a change
of attitude. I then wrote to Revashankarbhai to allow the insurance policy
to lapse and get whatever could be recovered, or else to regard the premiums
already paid as lost, for I had become convinced that God, who created
my wife and children as well as myself, would take care of them. To my
brother, who had been as father to me, I wrote explaining that I had given
him all that I had saved up to that moment, but that henceforth he should
expect nothing from me, for future savings, if any, would be utilized for
the benefit of the community.
I could not easily make my brother
understand this. In stern language he explained to me my duty towards him.
I should not, he said, aspire to be wiser than our father. I must support
the family as he did. I pointed out to him that I was doing exactly what
our father had done. The meaning of 'family' had but to be slightly widened
and the wisdom of my step would become clear.
My brother gave me up, and practically
stopped all communication. I was deeply distressed, but it would have been
a greater distress to give up what I considered to be my duty, and I preferred
the lesser. But that did not affect my devotion to him, which remained
as pure and great as ever. His great love for me was at the root of his
misery. He did not so much want my money, as that I should be well-behaved
towards the family. Near the end of his life, however, he appreciated my
view-point. When almost on his death-bed, he realized that my step had
been right, and wrote me a most pathetic letter. He apologized to me, if
indeed a father may apologize to his son. He commended his sons to my care,
to be brought up as I thought fit, and expressed his impatience to meet
me. He cabled that he would like to come to South Africa, and I cabled
in reply that he could. But that was not to be. Nor could his desire as
regards his sons be fulfilled. He died before he could start for South
Africa. His sons had been brought up in the old atmosphere and could not
change their course of life. I could not draw them to me. It was not their
fault. 'Who can say thus far, no further, to the tide of his own nature?'
Who can erase the impressions with which he is born? It is idle to expect
one's children and wards necessarily to follow the same course of evolution
as oneself.
This instance to some extent
serves to show what a terrible responsibility it is to be a parent.