28. NEAR DEATH'S DOOR
I very nearly ruined my
constitution during the recruiting campaign. In those days my food principally
consisted of groundnut butter and lemons. I knew that it was possible to
eat too much butter and injure one's health, and yet I allowed myself to
do so. This gave me a slight attack of dysentery. I did not take serious
notice of this, and went that evening to the Ashram, as was my wont every
now and then. I scarcely took any medicine in those days. I thought I should
get well if I skipped a meal, and indeed I felt fairly free from trouble
as I omitted the morning meal next day. I knew, however, that to be entirely
free I must prolong my fast and, if I ate anything at all, I should have
nothing but fruit juices.
There was some festival that
day, and although I had told Kasturbai that I should have nothing for my
midday meal, she tempted me and I succumbed. As I was under a vow of taking
no milk or milk products, she had specially prepared for me a sweet wheaten
porridge with oil added to it instead of ghi. She had reserved too
a bowlful of mung for me. I was fond of these things, and I readily
took them, hoping that without coming to grief I should eat just enough
to please Kasturbai and to satisfy my palate. But the devil had been only
waiting for an opportunity. Instead of eating very little I had my fill
of the meal. This was sufficient invitation to the angel of death. Within
an hour the dysentery appeared in acute form.
The same evening I had to go
back to Nadiad. I walked with very great difficulty to the Sabarmati station,
a distance of only ten furlongs. Sjt. Vallabhbhai, who joined me at Ahmedabad,
saw that I was unwell, but I did not allow him to guess how unbearable
the pain was.
We reached Nadiad at about ten
o'clock. The Hindu Anathashram where we had our headquarters was only half
a mile from the station; but it was as good as ten for me. I somehow managed
to reach the quarters, but the gripping pain was steadily increasing. Instead
of using the usual latrine which was a long way off, I asked for a commode
to be placed in the adjoining room. I was ashamed to have to ask for this,
but there was no escape. Sjt. Fulchand immediately procured a commode.
All the friends surrounded me, deeply concerned. They were all love and
attention, but they could not relive my pain. And my obstinacy added to
their helplessness. I refused all medical aid. I would take no medicine,
but preferred to suffer the penalty for my folly. So they looked on in
helpless dismay. I must have had thirty or forty motions in twenty-four
hours. I fasted, not taking even fruit juices in the beginning. The appetite
had all gone. I had thought all along that I had an iron frame, but I found
that my body had now become a lump of clay. It had lost all power of resistance.
Dr. Kanuga came and pleaded with me to take medicine. I declined. He offered
to give me an injection. I declined that too. My ignorance about injection
was in those days quite ridiculous. I believed that an injection must be
some kind of serum. Later I discovered that the injection that the doctor
suggested was a vegetable substance, but the discovery was too late to
be of use. The motions still continued leaving me completely exhausted.
The exhaustion brought on a delirious fever. The friends got more nervous,
and called in more doctors. But what could they do with a patient who would
not listen to them?
Sheth Ambalal with his good
wife came down to Nadiad, conferred with my co-workers, and removed me
with the greatest care to his Mirzapur bungalow in Ahmedabad. It was impossible
for anyone to receive more loving and selfless service than I had the privilege
of having during this illness. But a sort of low fever persisted, wearing
away my body from day to day. I felt that the illness was bound to be prolonged
and possibly fatal. Surrounded as I was with all the love and attention
that could be showered on me under Sheth Ambalal's roof, I began to get
restless and urged him to remove me to the Ashram. He had to yield to my
Whilst I was thus tossing on
the bed of pain in the Ashram, Sjt. Vallabhbhai brought the news that Germany
had been completely defeated, and that the Commissioner had sent word that
recruiting was no longer necessary. The news that I had no longer to worry
myself about recruiting came as a very great relief.
I had now been trying hydropathy,
which gave some relief, but it was a hard job to build up the body. The
many medical advisers overwhelmed me with advice, but I could not persuade
myself to take anything. Two or three suggested meat broth as a way out
of the milk vow, and cited authorities from Ayurveda in support of their
advice. One of them strongly recommended eggs. But for all of them I had
but one answer--no.
For me the question of diet
was not one to be determined on the authority of the Shastras. It was one
interwoven with my course of life, which is guided by principles no longer
depending upon outside authority. I had no desire to live at the cost of
them. How could I relinquish a principle in respect of myself, when I had
enforced it relentlessly in respect of my wife, children, and friends?
This protracted and first long
illness in my life thus afforded me a unique opportunity to examine my
principles and to test them. One night I gave myself up to despair. I felt
that I was at death's door. I sent word to Anasuyabehn. She ran down to
the Ashram. Vallabhbhai came up with Dr. Kanuga, who felt my pulse and
said,'Your pulse is quite good. I see absolutely no danger. This is a nervous
breakdown due to extreme weakness.' But I was far from being reassured.
I passed the night without sleep.
The morning broke without death
coming. But I could not get rid of the feeling that the end was near, and
so I began to devote all my waking hours to listening to the Gita being
read to me by the inmates of the Ashram. I was incapable of reading. I
was hardly inclined to talk. The slightest talk meant a strain on the brain.
All interest in living had ceased, as I have never liked to live for the
sake of living. It was such an agony to live on in that helpless state,
doing nothing, receiving the service of friends and co-workers, and watching
the body slowly wearing away.
Whilst I lay thus ever expectant
of death, Dr. Talvalkar came one day with a strange creature. He hailed
from Maharashtra. He was not known to fame, but the moment I saw him I
found that he was a crank like myself. He had come to try his treatment
on me. He had almost finished his course of studies in the Grant Medical
College without taking the degree. Later I came to know that he was a member
of the Brahmo Samaj. Sjt. Kelkar, for that is his name, is a man of an
independent and obstinate temperament. He swears by the ice treatment,
which he wanted to try on me. We gave him the name of the 'Ice Doctor'.
He is quite confident that he has discovered certain things which have
escaped qualified doctors. It is a pity both for him and me that he has
not been able to infect me with his faith in his system. I believe in his
system up to a certain point, but I am afraid he has been hasty in arriving
at certain conclusions.
But whatever may be the merits
of his discoveries, I allowed him to experiment on my body. I did not mind
external treatment. The treatment consisted in the application of ice all
over the body. Whilst I am unable to endorse his claim about the effect
his treatment had on me, it certainly infused in me a new hope and a new
energy, and the mind naturally reacted on the body. I began to have an
appetite, and to have a gentle walk for five to ten minutes. He now suggested
a reform in my diet. Said he: 'I assure you that you will have more energy
and regain your strength quicker if you take raw eggs. Eggs are as harmless
as milk. They certainly cannot come under the category of meat. And do
you know that all eggs are not fertilized? There are sterilized eggs on
the market.' I was not however, prepared to take even the sterilized eggs.
But the improvement was enough to give me interest in public activities.