XIII. IN INDIA AGAIN
So I sailed for home. Mauritius was one of the ports
of call, and as the boat made a long halt there, I went
ashore and acquainted myself fairly well with the local
conditions. For one night I was the guest of Sir Charles
Bruce, the Governor of the Colony.
After reaching India I spent some time in going about
the country. It was the year 1901 when the Congress met
at Calcutta under the presidentship of Mr. (later Sir)
Dinshaw Wacha. And I of course attended it. It was my
first experience of the Congress. From Bombay I travelled
in the same train as Sir Pherozeshah Mehta, as I had to
speak to him about conditions in South Africa. I knew the
kingly style in which he lived. He had engaged a special
saloon for himself, and I had orders to take my
opportunity of speaking to him by travelling in his
saloon for one stage. I, therefore, went to the saloon
and reported myself at the appointed station. With him
were Mr. Wacha, and Mr. (now Sir) Chimanlal Setalvad.
They were discussing politics. As soon as Sir Pherozeshah
saw me, he said, 'Gandhi, it seems nothing can be done
for you. Of course we will pass the resolution you want.
But what rights have we in our own country? I believe
that, so long as we have no power in our own land, you
cannot fare better in the Colonies.' I was taken aback.
Mr. Setalvad seemed to concur in the view; Mr?Wacha
cast a pathetic look at me. I tried to plead with Sir
Pherozeshah, but it was out of the question for one like
me to prevail upon the uncrowned king of Bombay. I
contented myself with the fact that I should be allowed
to move my resolution. You will of course show me the
resolution,' said Mr. Wacha, to cheer me up. I thanked
him and left them at the next stop. So we reached
Calcutta. The President was taken to his camp with great eclat
by the Reception Committee. I asked a volunteer where I
was to go. He took me to the Ripen College, where a
number of delegates were being put up. Fortune favoured
me?Lokamanya was put up in the same block as I. I have
a recollection that he came a day later. And as was
natural, Lokamanya would never be without his darbar.
Were I a painter, I could paint him as I saw him seated
on his bed -- so vivid is the whole scene in my memory.
Of the numberless people that called on him, I can
recollect today only one, namely the late Babu Motilal
Ghose, editor of the Amrita Bazar Patrika. Their
loud laughter and their talks about the wrong-doings of
the ruling race cannot be forgotten?But I propose to
examine in some detail the appointments in this camp. The
volunteers were clashing against one another. You asked
one of them to do something?He delegated it to another,
and he in his turn to a third, and so on; and as for the
delegates, they were neither here nor there. I made
friends with a few volunteers. I told them some things
about South Africa, and they felt somewhat ashamed. I
tried to bring home to them the secret of service. They
seemed to understand, but service is no mushroom growth.
It presupposes the will first, and then experience?
There was no lack of will on the part of those good
simple-hearted young men, but their experience was nil.
The Congress would meet three days every year and then go
to sleep. What training could one have out of a three
days' show once a year ? And the delegates were of a
piece with the volunteers. They had no better or longer
training. They would do nothing themselves. 'Volunteer,
do this,' 'Volunteer, do that,' were their constant
orders. Even here I was face to face with untouchability
in a fair, measure. The Tamilian kitchen was far away
from the rest. To the Tamil delegates even the sight of
others, whilst they were dining, meant pollution. So a
special kitchen had to be made for them in the College
compound, walled in by wicker-work. It was full of smoke
which choked you. It was a kitchen, dining room,
washroom, all in one -- a close safe with no outlet. To
me this looked like a travesty of Varnadharma.'
If, I said to myself, there was such untouchability
between the delegates of the Congress, one could well
imagine the extent to which it existed amongst their
constituents. I heaved a sigh at the thought. There was
no limit to insanitation. Pools of water were everywhere.
There were only a few latrines, and the recollection of
their stink still oppresses me. I pointed it out to the
volunteers. They said pointblank: 'That is not our work,
it is the scavenger's work.' I asked for a broom. The man
stared at me in wonder. I procured one and cleaned the
latrine. But that was for myself. The rush was so great,
and the latrines were so few, that they needed frequent
cleaning; but that was more than I could do. So I had to
content myself with simply ministering to myself. And the
others did not seem to mind the stench and the dirt. But
that was not all. Some of the delegates did not scruple
to use the verandahs outside their rooms for calls of
nature at night. In the morning I pointed out the spots
to the volunteers. No one was ready to undertake the
cleaning, and I found no one to share the honour with me
of doing it. Conditions have since considerably improved,
but even today thoughtless delegates are not wanting who
disfigure the Congress camp by committing nuisance
wherever they choose, and all the volunteers are not
always ready to clean up after them. I saw that, if the
Congress session were to be prolonged, conditions would
be quite favourable for the outbreak of an epidemic.
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