22. NARAYAN HEMCHANDRA
Just about this time Narayan
Hemchandra came to England. I had heard of him as a writer. We met at the
house of Miss Manning of the National Indian Association. Miss Manning
knew that I could not make myself sociable. When I went to her place I
used to sit tongue-tied, never speaking except when spoken to. She introduced
me to Narayan Hemchandra. He did not know English. His dress was queer--a
clumsy pair of trousers, a wrinkled, dirty brown coat after the Parsi fashion,
no necktie or collar, and a tasselled woollen cap. He grew a long beard.
He was lightly built and short
of stature. His round face was scarred with small-pox, and had a nose which
was neither pointed nor blunt. With his hand he was constantly turning
over his beard.
Such a queer-looking and queerly
dressed person was bound to be singled out in fashionable society.
'I have heard a good deal about
you,' I said to him. 'I have also read some of your writings. I should
be very pleased if you were kind enough to come to my place.'
Narayan Hemchandra had
a rather hoarse voice. With a smile on his face he replied:
'Yes, where do you stay?'
'In Store Street.'
'Then we are neighbours. I want
to learn English. Will you teach me?'
'I shall be happy to teach you
anything I can, and will try my best. If you like, I will go to your place.'
'Oh, no. I shall come to you.
I shall also bring with me a Translation Exercise Book.' So we made an
appointment. Soon we were close friends.
Narayan Hemchandra was innocent
of grammar. 'Horse' was a verb with him, and 'run' a noun. I remember many
such funny instances. But he was not to be baffled by his ignorance. My
little knowledge of grammar could make no impression on him. Certainly
he never regarded his ignorance of grammar as a matter for shame.
With perfect nonchalance he
said: 'I have never been to school like you. I have never felt the need
of grammar in expressing my thoughts. Well, do you know Bengali? I know
it. I have travelled in Bengal. It is I who have given Maharshi Devendranath
Tagore's works to the Gujarati-speaking world. And I wish to translate
into Gujarati the treasures of many other languages. And you know I am
never literal in my translations. I always content myself with bringing
out the spirit. Others, with their better knowledge, may be able to do
more in future. But I am quite satisfied with what I have achieved without
the help of grammar. I know Marathi, Hindi, Bengali, and now I have begun
to know English. What I want is a copious vocabulary. And do you think
my ambition ends here? No fear. I want to go to France and learn French.
I am told that language has an extensive literature. I shall go to Germany
also, if possible, and there learn German.' And thus he would talk on unceasingly.
He had a boundless ambition for learning languages and for foreign travel.
'Then you will go to America
'Certainly. How can I return
to India without having seen the New World?'
'But where will you find the
'What do I need money for? I
am not a fashionable fellow like you. The minimum amount of food and the
minimum amount of clothing suffice for me. And for this what little I get
out of my books and from my friends is enough. I always travel third class.
While going to America also I shall travel on deck.'
Narayan Hemchandra's simplicity
was all his own, and his frankness was on a par with it. Of pride he had
not the slightest trace, excepting, of course, a rather undue regard for
his own capacity as a writer.
We met daily. There was a considerable
amount of similarity between our thoughts and actions. Both of us were
vegetarians. We would often have our lunch together. This was the time
when I lived on 17s. a week and cooked for myself. Sometimes I would got
to his room, and sometimes he would come to mine. I cooked in the English
style. Nothing but Indian style would satisfy him. He could not do without
I would make soup of carrots etc., and he would pity me for my taste. Once
he somehow hunted out mung,/1/
cooked it, and brought it to my place. I ate it with delight. This led
on to a regular system of exchange between us. I would take my delicacies
to him and he would bring his to me.
Cardinal Manning's name was
then on every lip. The dock labourers' strike had come to an early termination
owing to the efforts of John Burns and Cardinal Manning. I told Narayan
Hemchandra of Disraeli's tribute to the Cardinal's simplicity. 'Then I
must see the sage,' said he.
'He is a big man. How do you
expect to meet him?'
'Why? I know how. I must get
you to write to him in my name. Tell him I am an author and that I want
to congratulate him personally on his humanitarian work, and also say that
I shall have to take you as interpreter as I do not know English.'
I wrote a letter to that effect.
In two or three days came Cardinal Manning's card in reply giving us an
appointment. So we both called on the Cardinal. I put on the usual visiting
suit. Narayan Hemchandra was the same as ever, in the same coat and the
same trousers. I tried to make fun of this, but he laughed me out and said:
'You civilized fellows are all
cowards. Great men never look at a person's exterior. They think of his
We entered the Cardinal's mansion.
As soon as we were seated, a thin, tall, old gentleman made his appearance,
and shook hands with us. Narayan Hemchandra thus gave his greetings:
'I do not want to take up your
time. I had heard a lot about you and I felt I should come and thank you
for the good work you have done for the strikers. It has been my custom
to visit the sages of the world, and that is why I have put you to this
This was of course my translation
of what he spoke in Gujarati.
'I am glad you have come. I
hope your stay in London will agree with you and that you will get in touch
with people here. God bless you.'
With these words the Cardinal
stood up and said good-bye.
Once Narayan Hemchandra came
to my place in a shirt and dhoti. The good landlady opened the door,
came running to me in a fright--this was a new landlady who did not know
Narayan Hemchandra--and said: 'A sort of madcap wants to see you.' I went
to the door, and to my surprise found Narayan Hemchandra. I was shocked.
His face, however, showed nothing but his usual smile.
'But did not the children in
the street rag you?'
'Well, they ran after me, but
I did not mind them and they were quiet.'
Narayan Hemchandra went to Paris
after a few months' stay in London. He began studying French and also translating
French books. I knew enough French to revise his translation, so he gave
it to me to read. It was not a translation, it was the substance.
Finally he carried out his determination
to visit America. It was with great difficulty that he succeeded in securing
a deck ticket. While in the United States he was prosecuted for 'being
indecently dressed,' as he once went out in a shirt and dhoti. I
have a recollection that he was discharged.
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An Indian pulse [=lentil]