41. GOKHALE'S CHARITY
I have already referred
to the attack of pleurisy I had in England. Gokhale returned to London
soon after. Kallenbach and I used regularly to go to him. Our talks were
mostly about the war, and as Kallenbach had the geography of Germany at
his finger tips, and had travelled much in Europe, he used to show him
on the map the various places in connection with the war.
When I got pleurisy, this also
became a topic of daily discussion. My diet consisted, among other things,
of groundnuts, ripe and unripe bananas, lemon, olive oil, tomatoes, and
grapes. I completely eschewed milk, cereals, pulses, and other things.
Dr. Jivraj Mehta treated me.
He pressed me hard to resume milk and cereals, but I was obdurate. The
matter reached Gokhale's ears. He had not much regard for my reasoning
in favour of a fruitarian diet, and he wanted me to take whatever the doctor
prescribed for my health.
It was no easy thing for me
not to yield to Gokhale's pressure. When he would not take a refusal, I
begged him to give me twenty-four hours for thinking over the question.
As Kallenbach and I returned home that evening, we discussed where my duty
lay. He had been with me in my experiment. He liked it, but I saw that
he was agreeable to my giving it up if my health demanded it. So I had
to decide for myself according to the dictates of the inner voice.
I spent the whole night thinking
over the matter. To give up the experiment would mean renouncing all my
ideas in that direction, and yet I found no flaw in them. The question
was how far I should yield to Gokhale's loving pressure, and how far I
might modify my experiment in the so-called interests of health. I finally
decided to adhere to the experiment in so far as the motive behind was
chiefly religious, and to yield to the doctor's advice where the motive
was mixed. Religious considerations had been predominant in the giving
up of milk. I had before me a picture of the wicked processes the govals
in Calcutta adopted to extract the last drop of milk from their cows and
buffaloes. I also had the feeling that, just as meat was not man's food,
even so animal's milk could not be man's food. So I got up in the morning
with the determination to adhere to my resolve to abstain from milk. This
greatly relieved me. I dreaded to approach Gokhale, but I trusted him to
respect my decision.
In the evening Kallenbach and
I called on Gokhale at the National Liberal Club. The first question he
asked me was: 'Well, have you decided to accept the doctor's advice?'
I gently but firmly replied:
'I am willing to yield on all points except one about which I beg you not
to press me. I will not take milk, milk-products, or meat. If not to take
these things should mean my death, I feel I had better face it.'
'Is this your final decision?'
'I am afraid I cannot decide
otherwise,' said I. 'I know that my decision will pain you, but I beg your
With a certain amount of pain
but with deep affection, Gokhale said: 'I do not approve of your decision.
I do not see any religion in it. But I won't press you any more.' With
these words he turned to Dr. Jivraj Mehta and said : 'Please don't worry
him any more. Prescribe anything you like within the limit he has set for
The doctor expressed dissent,
but was helpless. He advised me to take mung soup, with a dash of
asafoetida in it. To this I agreed. I took it for a day or two, but it
increased my pain. As I did not find it suitable, I went back to fruits
and nuts. The doctor of course went on with his external treatment. The
latter somewhat relieved my pain, but my restrictions were to him a sore
Meanwhile Gokhale left for home,
as he could not stand the October fogs of London.