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<p class=MsoNormal align=right style='text-align:center; line-height:150%; margin-top:0; margin-bottom:0'>
<b><font size="4">Muraripukur - <span
style="mso-bidi-font-style:italic">I</span></span></font></b></p>
		<p class=MsoNormal align=right style='text-align:center; line-height:150%; margin-top:0; margin-bottom:0'>&nbsp;</p>
<p class=MsoNormal style='text-align:justify;line-height:150%;mso-pagination:
none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none; margin-top:0; margin-bottom:0'>AT last I made up my mind
finally to take the plunge, that I must now join the <st1:place><st1:PlaceName>Manicktolla</st1:PlaceName>
 <st1:PlaceType>Gardens</st1:PlaceType></st1:place> in Muraripukur. That meant
good-bye to College, good-bye to the ordinary life.</p>

<p class=MsoNormal style='text-align:justify;text-indent:12.2pt;line-height:
150%;mso-pagination:none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none; margin-top:0; margin-bottom:0'>A
little while ago, Prafulla Chakravarti had come and joined. Both of us belonged
to Rungpore, both were of nearly the same age, and intimate friends. This too
pushed me to my decision.</p>

<p class=MsoNormal style='text-align:justify;text-indent:12.45pt;line-height:
150%;mso-pagination:none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none; margin-top:0; margin-bottom:0'>I
had already taken a vow about a year ago, in front of a picture of Kali at a
secret ceremony at dead of night, a vow written out in blood drawn from the chest,
that I should dedicate my life to the whole-hearted service of the Motherland.
With me there was a companion, and also a local leader who had read out the
oath. This leader became a Sannyasin later on and rose to be the head of a
Math; he has since given up his body, so I have heard. My companion of that day
is still alive. He did not give up the world and in fact became a very
successful man; at present he is enjoying his rest in retirement.</p>

<p class=MsoNormal style='text-align:justify;text-indent:11.75pt;line-height:
150%;mso-pagination:none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none; margin-top:0; margin-bottom:0'>I
lived in a students' Mess, one that had acquired quite a name. Among the
inmates were Atul Gupta, Charu Bhattacharya (late of the Visvabharati), and a
little before my time there was Naresh Chandra Sengupta. In my first year of
College, Atul Gupta was in his fourth year, Charu Bhattacharya in his fifth
and Naresh Sengupta had just passed out. I happened once to set foot in the
room he used to occupy and there I found scattered about the floor a few pages
torn<o:p>&nbsp;</o:p></p>

<p class=MsoNormal align=center style='text-align:center;line-height:150%;
mso-pagination:none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none; margin-top:0; margin-bottom:0'>
<span
style='font-size:10.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:12.0pt;'>Page – 336</span></p>


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<p class=MsoNormal style='text-align:justify;line-height:150%;mso-pagination:
none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none; margin-top:0; margin-bottom:0'>out of a note-book which
read very much like love letters. This seemed to me a little strange, but later
I realised these were some pages from the manuscript of one of his novels.</p>

<p class=MsoNormal style='text-align:justify;text-indent:10.3pt;line-height:
150%;mso-pagination:none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none; margin-top:0; margin-bottom:0'>This
decision to choose my path came while I was in my Fourth Year. That I would
definitely join the Gardens was conveyed to Barin by Prafulla. He had already
told him about my antecedents, so one day I received a call – Barin would see
me, as if at an interview for a post. Escorted by Prafulla, I arrived at his
residence in <st1:Street><st1:address>Gopimohan Dutt Lane</st1:address></st1:Street>
at Goabagan. This place acquired some renown during the Alipore case as a den
of the terrorists. Next to the house there was a gymnasium for the young men of
the neighbourhood where wrestling and boxing and all kinds of dangerous
martial exercises were practised.</p>

<p class=MsoNormal style='text-align:justify;text-indent:11.25pt;line-height:
150%;mso-pagination:none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none; margin-top:0; margin-bottom:0'>This
happened to be my first meeting with Barin. He received me with great kindness
and had me seated next to him. I cannot now recall the details of the
conversation we had, but perhaps there was nothing much to remember. One thing
however I distinctly remember. He asked me if I had read the Gita. I said I had
read it in parts. He handed me a copy and asked me to read aloud. I began
reciting &quot;Dharmakhetre Kurukhetre...&quot; in a pure and undiluted Bengali
style. He stopped me and cried out, &quot;That won't do. One doesn't read
Sanskrit here in the Bengali style. Listen, read like this.&quot; He gave a
recital in the Hindi style, that is, with the pronunciation current in the
other parts of <st1:country-region><st1:place>India</st1:place></st1:country-region>.</p>

<p class=MsoNormal style='text-align:justify;text-indent:10.05pt;line-height:
150%;mso-pagination:none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none; margin-top:0; margin-bottom:0'>That
was my first lesson in Sanskrit pronounced in the Sanskrit way. Later I have
heard the correct Sanskrit accent so often from Sri Aurobindo himself. I have
heard him recite <span style='mso-bidi-font-style:italic'>from </span>the Veda,
from the Upanishads, from the Gita. Today, I too do not read from Sanskrit in
the Bengali way, even when reading from an article in Bengali.</p>

<p class=MsoNormal style='text-align:justify;text-indent:10.05pt;line-height:
150%;mso-pagination:none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none; margin-top:0; margin-bottom:0'>It
was settled that I would join the Gardens and stay there, But I did not give up
my room at the Mess. My books and papers and furniture – a bedstead and the
table-lamp, for there was no electric light in those days – were all left in<span
style='font-size:10.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:12.0pt;'><o:p>&nbsp;</o:p></span></p>

<p class=MsoNormal align=center style='text-align:center;line-height:150%;
mso-pagination:none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none; margin-top:0; margin-bottom:0'>
<span
style='font-size:10.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:12.0pt;'>Page – 337</span></p>


<hr size=2 width="100%" align=center>



<p class=MsoNormal style='text-align:justify;line-height:150%;mso-pagination:
none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none; margin-top:0; margin-bottom:0'>charge of my room-mate,
and I paid only an occasional visit. I attended College as well, but at
infrequent intervals. College studies could no longer interest me.</p>

<p class=MsoNormal style='text-align:justify;text-indent:11.25pt;line-height:
150%;mso-pagination:none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none; margin-top:0; margin-bottom:0'>It
was about this time that I hovered around the newly founded <st1:place><st1:PlaceName>National</st1:PlaceName>
 <st1:PlaceType>College</st1:PlaceType></st1:place> in <st1:City><st1:place>Calcutta</st1:place></st1:City>
for a short while. My aims were a little &quot;dubious&quot;. At the Gardens,
there used to be discussions about the bomb, so an idea came to my head: could
not the <st1:place><st1:PlaceName>National</st1:PlaceName> <st1:PlaceType>College</st1:PlaceType></st1:place>
offer an opportunity to study the subject? I thought of reading Chemistry and
by joining the Chemistry practicals learn the principles of explosives. At that
time the Superintendent (or perhaps Principal) was Satish Chandra Mukherji,
Founder-President of the Dawn Society. I had met him several years ago in the
premises of the Society.</p>

<p class=MsoNormal style='text-align:justify;text-indent:11.5pt;line-height:
150%;mso-pagination:none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none; margin-top:0; margin-bottom:0'>Let
me then narrate this earlier story in the present connection. I had just come
to <st1:City><st1:place>Calcutta</st1:place></st1:City> and joined the First
Year. Atul Gupta took me to a meeting of the Dawn Society. Benoy Sarkar was
there, Radha Kumud Mukherji too was there, I think – not his younger brother
Radha Kamal who became one of my class-fellows in the Third Year after he had
passed the F .A. examination from Berhampore. Here is a sketch of one of the
Society's meetings. Satish Mukherji took the chair. We were about twenty or
thirty young men in all. He read out a verse from the Gita: 'yad yad vibhutimat
sattvam, srimad-urjitam-eva va' and gave a short explanation in a few words.
Then we formed ourselves into small groups of four or five. We were to discuss
what is meant by &quot;sriman&quot; and &quot;vibhutiman&quot;, where is the
difference between the two, what do we understand by &quot;urjita&quot;? Each
group was to discuss separately, each member was to say what he had to say, and
finally all of us were to write out in the form of an essay our respective
viewpoints. The essays would then be submitted to the chairman for his
consideration and judgment. I sat absolutely dumb in that first session, an
ignoramus among the learned, like a goose in the midst of swans. (I must have
been about fourteen at that time). But I did not feel quite at<o:p>&nbsp;</o:p></p>

<p class=MsoNormal align=center style='text-align:center;line-height:150%;
mso-pagination:none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none; margin-top:0; margin-bottom:0'>
<span
style='font-size:10.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:12.0pt;'>Page – 338</span></p>


<hr size=2 width="100%" align=center>



<p class=MsoNormal style='text-align:justify;line-height:150%;mso-pagination:
none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none; margin-top:0; margin-bottom:0'>ease in that atmosphere, I
had an impression it was all fine talk and dry debate, purely academic, one
would say. Satish Chandra had no doubt wanted to use this as a means of forming
the character and not merely as an intellectual training, a way of moulding the
life, something that had been missing in our college education. I do not know
to what extent he succeeded in actual fact.</p>

<p class=MsoNormal style='text-align:justify;text-indent:11.0pt;line-height:
150%;mso-pagination:none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none; margin-top:0; margin-bottom:0'>This
was about the middle of 19°4. <span style='mso-bidi-font-weight:bold'>It </span>was
three years later, about the middle of 1907, that I met Satish Chandra again.
He could not have remembered about me, nor did I remind him. He asked me,
&quot;You are a student of literature and philosophy. Why do you want to read
Science?&quot; – &quot;I have read physics and chemistry for my F.A. (that is,
Intermediate). I have a special attraction for those subjects, that is
why.&quot; However, the matter did not proceed very far, for I was getting more
and more engrossed in the life at the Gardens.</p>

<p class=MsoNormal style='text-align:justify;text-indent:11.25pt;line-height:
150%;mso-pagination:none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none; margin-top:0; margin-bottom:0'>Almost
about the same period, I had thought of another childish plan, again in connection
with the making of a bomb: the thing had so much got into my head. I was a
student of the <st1:place><st1:PlaceName>Calcutta</st1:PlaceName> <st1:PlaceName>Presidency</st1:PlaceName>
 <st1:PlaceType>College</st1:PlaceType></st1:place> where the great Jagadish
Chandra was professor at the time. Here was the idea and it was approved by my
leaders – could I not join his laboratory, as some kind of an assistant? Then
one could carry on research and experiments on bombs. But how to get hold of
him? I thought of Sister Nivedita. She was a great friend of Jagadish Bose and
it was easy to approach Nivedita, for she was one among our circle of
acquaintances. But the occasion did not arise for this line of advance, for
things had been moving fast at the Gardens.</p>

<p class=MsoNormal style='text-align:justify;text-indent:11.5pt;line-height:
150%;mso-pagination:none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none; margin-top:0; margin-bottom:0'>Let
me say a few words about our life there. But may I preface it with an amusing
incident? I have said that my attendance at College had been getting more and
more irregular. This attracted the notice of some of my class-fellows. One
day, I found one of their representatives arriving &quot;on deputation&quot;
to meet me at the .Mess. He began<o:p>&nbsp;</o:p></p>

<p class=MsoNormal align=center style='text-align:center;line-height:150%;
mso-pagination:none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none; margin-top:0; margin-bottom:0'>
<span
style='font-size:10.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:12.0pt;'>Page – 339</span></p>


<hr size=2 width="100%" align=center>



		<p class=MsoNormal style='text-align:justify;line-height:150%;mso-pagination:
none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none; margin-top:0; margin-bottom:0'>questioning me as an
intimate friend and well-wisher with a show of great kindness and affection.
&quot;Tell me,&quot; he said, &quot;what has been the matter with you? What
makes you keep away from College? Has there been a mishap somewhere? You have
been such a good student and 'so regular in your attendance, what could have
come over you all on a sudden?&quot; I could guess what he must have been
suspecting: surely it had something to do with my morals <span
style='font-family:"Arial Narrow";mso-bidi-font-family:"Arial Narrow"'>–</span><font face="Times New Roman"><span
style='mso-bidi-font-family:"Arial Narrow"'> <i>chercher</i></span></font><i><span
style='font-family:"Arial Narrow";mso-bidi-font-family:"Arial Narrow"'> </span>la femme</i>! Was that the case here? Complaints and entreaties
having failed, he finally sought to console and encourage me with these words,
&quot;Don't you worry; If Calcutta does not suit you, let us leave the place
and go somewhere else. The two of us could stay together, and if we worked hard
for, say, three or four months, we would get ready for the examination without
fail. Our absence from College would make no difference.&quot; To this I
replied in a grave tone, &quot;'Very well, I shall think it over.&quot; Lest
there should be similar attacks in the future, I practically gave up the Mess.</p>

<p class=MsoNormal style='text-align:justify;text-indent:13.2pt;line-height:
150%;mso-pagination:none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none; margin-top:0; margin-bottom:0'>One
would not say that life at the Gardens had settled down to a definite routine
yet, for we had just begun. There were about a dozen or fourteen of us in all.
There were occasional visitors from outside who would come for a short stay and
then go back to their work. Naren Goswami had come like that for a couple of
days, so had Bhavabhushan who later became a Sannyasin. We began with readings
from the Gita and this became almost a fixed routine where everybody took part.
Even the local Inspector of Police expressed a desire to join in these readings
with us Brahmacharins. But he had to pay dearly for that. He did not realise
that these were no ordinary lessons in the Gita but served as a facade for our
preparations for the bomb. For this he was, as we heard, later dismissed from
the service. The poor fellow had wanted to acquire a bit of spiritual merit
which seemed to turn against him.</p>

<p class=MsoNormal style='text-align:justify;text-indent:10.55pt;line-height:
150%;mso-pagination:none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none; margin-top:0; margin-bottom:0'>A
beginning however was made to introduce some kind of discipline and
organisation. It was decided that the entire<o:p>&nbsp;</o:p></p>

<p class=MsoNormal align=center style='text-align:center;line-height:150%;
mso-pagination:none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none; margin-top:0; margin-bottom:0'>
<span
style='font-size:10.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:12.0pt;'>Page – 340</span></p>


<hr size=2 width="100%" align=center>



<p class=MsoNormal style='text-align:justify;line-height:150%;mso-pagination:
none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none; margin-top:0; margin-bottom:0'>group should be formed
into two sections, one &quot;civil&quot;, the other &quot;military&quot;. The
&quot;military&quot; section was to include the active members and the others
were to serve as auxiliaries. The idea originally was to build up an armed
force, a regular army in fact, with its full complement of weapons and
equipment and trained by regular drills. The &quot;civil&quot; side was to deal
with external work like journalism, propaganda and recruitment. The <i>Yugantar</i>,
and later the Navashakti, became our publicity organs. I was not much attracted
by this &quot;civil&quot; side; I wanted to become one of the
&quot;military&quot; men. Prafulla who was one of those dreamy,
&quot;introvert&quot;, intellectual types and a good writer and speaker took up
the &quot;civil&quot; work. They used to say with a touch of humour, no doubt,
that he was the Mazzini and I was his Garibaldi. But no provision had yet been
made to give this Garibaldi the necessary training in military drill or the use
of weapons. So, I had to begin with the science of warfare rather than its art.
Barin was at that time writing his series on The Principles of Modern Warfare
for the <i>Yugantar</i>. I too began my study of the subject. I started going to the
Imperial Library (now the National Library) in <st1:City><st1:place>Calcutta</st1:place></st1:City>
for my studies and research. Where could I begin? Well, it was a book called
<i>The Art of War</i> by the German military expert, Clausewitz, a book where the very
first sentence ran like this, &quot;The object of warfare is to destroy the
enemy and finish with him.&quot; I am not sure how this helped me add to my
knowledge of warfare or my skill in the art of fighting.</p>

<p class=MsoNormal style='text-align:justify;text-indent:9.35pt;line-height:
150%;mso-pagination:none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none; margin-top:0; margin-bottom:0'>During
my last days in College, I used to study Mazzini in place of <i>King 
<span
style='font-family:"Times New Roman";mso-bidi-font-family:"Arial Narrow"'>John </span>
</i>or
<i>The Faerie Queene.</i> One day I suddenly discovered that they had removed my Mazzini from the shelves of the library, and even the 
<i>Life and Death <span
style='font-family:"Arial Narrow";mso-bidi-font-family:"Arial Narrow"'>of </span>Socrates</i>
by Plato had disappeared. These books were no doubt supposed to turn the heads
of our Indian students!</p>

<p class=MsoNormal style='text-align:justify;text-indent:9.8pt;line-height:
150%;mso-pagination:none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none; margin-top:0; margin-bottom:0'>About
this time, I had been several times to my home town of <st1:City><st1:place>Rungpore</st1:place></st1:City>.
There at the local Library, I discovered a fine book on the history of Secret
Societies. The book gave<o:p>&nbsp;</o:p></p>

<p class=MsoNormal align=center style='text-align:center;line-height:150%;
mso-pagination:none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none; margin-top:0; margin-bottom:0'>
<span
style='font-size:10.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:12.0pt;'>Page – 341</span></p>


<hr size=2 width="100%" align=center>



<p class=MsoNormal style='text-align:justify;line-height:150%;mso-pagination:
none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none; margin-top:0; margin-bottom:0'>the story of how subject
nations aspiring for freedom began their work in secret. <span
style='mso-bidi-font-weight:bold'>In </span>it the story of <st1:country-region><st1:place>Ireland</st1:place></st1:country-region>
and <st1:country-region><st1:place>Russia</st1:place></st1:country-region> had
been given a good deal of space. The secret societies in <st1:country-region><st1:place>Russia</st1:place></st1:country-region>
had a system which was rather distinctive. It should have been taken over by
us, so I have heard Sri Aurobindo say. They would divide the underground
workers into little groups of not more than five. No group could know the
others, only those belonging to a particular group would know its own members.
Each group had a leader, who alone would know his immediate superior placed in
charge of only four or five of such little groups. Similarly, the leader of the
higher group would have dealings with the one next higher in rank who would be
in charge of the bigger groups, and so on, right to the topmost man. Such a
system was necessary, for in case someone got caught, that could not implicate
the entire organisation but only a handful of his acquaintances. One of the
main instruments in the hands of the police or the government for detecting a
conspiracy is the confession extracted from the persons caught, whether by
torture, through temptations, from sheer bravado, or by whatever other means.
Under that system, no one could know anybody except the few members of his own
group with whom he came into immediate contact through his work, nor could he
know anything about the general plan of work; he had to carry out only the part
assigned to him.</p>

<p class=MsoNormal style='text-align:justify;text-indent:12.0pt;line-height:
150%;mso-pagination:none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none; margin-top:0; margin-bottom:0'>At the
Rungpore Library I came across another book, namely, Gibbon's famous <i>Decline
and Fall of the <st1:place>Roman Empire</st1:place></i>. I ran through the lengthy
volumes from end to end with tremendous enthusiasm and added a great deal to my
learning and knowledge. I had a hope that the book might throw some light as
to how to bring about the &quot;decline and fall&quot; of the British rule in <st1:country-region><st1:place>India</st1:place></st1:country-region>.
I fear much help did not come that way.</p>

<p class=MsoNormal style='text-align:justify;text-indent:11.75pt;line-height:
150%;mso-pagination:none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none; margin-top:0; margin-bottom:0'>
Now, to come back to the Gardens and our organisational system. Nothing could be 
arranged by way of an armed force, for our work itself took another turn. A 
military organisation </p>

<p class=MsoNormal align=center style='text-align:center;line-height:150%;
mso-pagination:none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none; margin-top:0; margin-bottom:0'>
<span
style='font-size:10.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:12.0pt;'>Page – 342</span></p>


<hr size=2 width="100%" align=center>



<p class=MsoNormal style='text-align:justify;line-height:150%;mso-pagination:
none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none; margin-top:0; margin-bottom:0'>was now to give
place to a terrorist organisation. In the earlier stages, we did not have much
faith in terrorist methods, for, as we had seen about <st1:country-region><st1:place>Russia</st1:place></st1:country-region>,
this path led only to mutual assassinations; murder and revenge seemed to
follow in an endless succession, leading to no final issue. That is why we had
decided on the military solution. To that end, our efforts had been directed
towards forming a new military force on the one hand and on the other towards
sowing the seeds of revolt among the British Indian troops. I remember about a
military police force stationed at Rungpore where the commandant had been won
over to a large extent, although I could not say how it would have turned out
at the .end.</p>

<p class=MsoNormal style='text-align:justify;text-indent:12.0pt;line-height:
150%;mso-pagination:none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none; margin-top:0; margin-bottom:0'>In
the event, it was none of these methods that brought us independence. Indian
independence has come in another way, the inscrutable way of <st1:City><st1:place>Providence</st1:place></st1:City>.</p>

<p class=MsoNormal style='text-align:justify;text-indent:12.0pt;line-height:
150%;mso-pagination:none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none; margin-top:0; margin-bottom:0'>As
I was saying, we gave up militarism and turned towards the terrorist methods.
There had awakened in the country a keen demand and aspiration: must we bear in
silence and give no answer to this tyranny and oppression that seemed to go on
increasing day by day? So, we started getting ready for a fitting reply. It brought
in the first place a greater courage to the general public, though it remained
doubtful if it helped relieve the oppression. And secondly, it gave some
satisfaction to men. Thus we directed our efforts to shooting at the Lieutenant
Governor, derailing his train, and assassinating tyrants in the official ranks.
Governor Andrew Fraser, the District Magistrates Allen and Kingsford, Mayor
Tardivel of Chandernagore, these became the targets of the terrorists. The
members of the <st1:place><st1:PlaceName>Manicktolla</st1:PlaceName> <st1:PlaceType>Garden</st1:PlaceType></st1:place>
group were directly connected with these activities. But there is one thing to
be noticed about these attempts that at least in the earlier stages almost all
of them failed, with only one or two exceptions.</p>

<p class=MsoNormal style='text-align:justify;text-indent:11.25pt;line-height:
150%;mso-pagination:none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none; margin-top:0; margin-bottom:0'>One
of the activities of the Gardens, apart from the attempts to manufacture bombs,
had been to procure and<o:p>&nbsp;</o:p></p>

<p class=MsoNormal align=center style='text-align:center;line-height:150%;
mso-pagination:none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none; margin-top:0; margin-bottom:0'>
<span
style='font-size:10.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:12.0pt;'>Page – 343</span></p>


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<p class=MsoNormal style='text-align:justify;line-height:150%;mso-pagination:
none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none; margin-top:0; margin-bottom:0'>distribute guns and rifles
and pistols. Purchase, theft and loot were the three methods of procurement. In
this manner one might gather materials for terrorist purposes, but it could
hardly meet the needs of an armed force. At the Gardens there was some shooting
practice too, with pistols. The trunk of a mango tree had been riddled with
bullets – the police could very easily find that out later. This reminds me of
Prafulla Chaki. He used to say taking a revolver in his hand, &quot;I for <st1:time
Hour="1" Minute="0">one am</st1:time> not going to live on if they get hold of
me. I shall neither be tortured by the police nor will I let their offers of
confession tempt me. Look, this is the way I am going to finish myself.&quot;
He would then open wide his mouth, push in the revolver muzzle and press the
trigger with his fingers, adding, &quot;This is the one sure way. In the other
methods, one merely wounds oneself, very often with no serious danger to life.
But it is much more risky to live on after getting wounded, isn't it?&quot;
Prafulla committed suicide after the Muzzaffarpur bomb affair in exactly the
way he had rehearsed – I should not say &quot;suicide&quot;, for it was really
an act of martyrdom.</p>

<p class=MsoNormal style='text-align:justify;text-indent:12.2pt;line-height:
150%;mso-pagination:none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none; margin-top:0; margin-bottom:0'>Now
let me come out with some of my own exploits. I did not, as I have said, want
to be one of the law-abiding &quot;civilians&quot;; my aim was to be a
&quot;military man&quot; with his law of the bomb. But first I must prove my
mettle in that line. So, they set me a test. I was to carry a pistol and
deliver it to a gentleman in Jalpaiguri. You seem to laugh at the instance of
my &quot;military&quot; ability. But perhaps you cannot now imagine what it
meant in those days to carry a real pistol. The police had its secret agents
all over the place always on the look-out for victims. If you happened to be a
young man, if you dressed in a manner even slightly out of the ordinary, if
there was anything the least suspicious about your movements that might attract
attention, it was enough. If the police came and gave you a search and found a
lethal weapon like a revolver in your possession, you would get at least seven
years – of that you might rest assured.<o:p>&nbsp;</o:p></p>

<p class=MsoNormal align=center style='text-align:center;line-height:150%;
mso-pagination:none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none; margin-top:0; margin-bottom:0'>
<span
style='font-size:10.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:12.0pt;'>Page – 344</span></p>


<hr size=2 width="100%" align=center>



<p class=MsoNormal style='text-align:justify;line-height:150%;mso-pagination:
none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none; margin-top:0; margin-bottom:0'>Nevertheless, I managed to
carry the weapon in a perfectly easy and natural manner all the way to <st1:place>North
 Bengal</st1:place> and reached it to the address given. This was the way in
which they used to distribute weapons for future use to the different centres
at various places.</p>

<p class=MsoNormal style='text-align:justify;text-indent:11.0pt;line-height:
150%;mso-pagination:none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none; margin-top:0; margin-bottom:0'>Now
that I had passed the first test almost without effort, there came a second
hurdle to cross. Will you be shocked to hear that I was to join a gang of
dacoits and take part in a real dacoity? &quot;Very well,&quot; I said to
myself, for everything is fair in love and war – although I did feel somewhat
uncomfortable even without my knowing it, for there was something about the
whole affair that was not palatable to me. But this had been decided upon as
one of our methods of collecting funds, for the money that came from gifts was
not sufficient, and people rather shied of making gifts for the work of such
secret societies. So we had to fix on loot. The mail runner was to be waylaid
and his bags looted, somewhat far away in a place in the <st1:City><st1:place>Khulna</st1:place></st1:City>
district. We left in a body and put up with a friend. There we had to spend a
couple of days arranging to stitch up the bags, for the money had to be carried
back in bags, you see. But for some reason or other, the plan fell through and
I for one heaved a sigh of relief. However there was one thing I had gained out
of all this. It was a glimpse I could have of the river Kapotakshi, no longer
limpid like the &quot;pigeon's eye&quot; though, for it was all cluttered up
with weeds – on whose banks stood the birthplace of Michael Madhusudan and the
mango grove where he used to play about as a child. I did feel as if the breath
of his poetry still lingered about in the atmosphere.</p>

<p class=MsoNormal style='text-align:justify;text-indent:15.35pt;line-height:
150%;mso-pagination:none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none; margin-top:0; margin-bottom:0'>The
household arrangements at our Gardens were of the most simple, natural and
unpretentious sort, the aim being to avoid all unnecessary complications and
save our time and labour. The cooking was done perhaps only once a day and
almost every day it was Khichri. For the second meal, something ready-made
bought from the market was found<o:p>&nbsp;</o:p></p>

<p class=MsoNormal align=center style='text-align:center;line-height:150%;
mso-pagination:none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none; margin-top:0; margin-bottom:0'>
<span
style='font-size:10.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:12.0pt;'>Page – 345</span></p>


<hr size=2 width="100%" align=center>



<p class=MsoNormal style='text-align:justify;line-height:150%;mso-pagination:
none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none; margin-top:0; margin-bottom:0'>enough. We did the cooking
ourselves and washed the dishes. The dishes and utensils were not of brass,
they were all earthenware vessels, I believe. And the washing was done in the
waters of the pond. What kind of pond it was could only be described by a
Kalidasa, but perhaps some idea could be had from Bankimchandra's description
of the Bhima tank: &quot;The dark shades of the palms dancing to the rhythms of
the dark waters&quot; and so on. That is to say, it had more of weeds and mud
than water, not to speak of the fish and the frogs and other animal species,
including a fair complement of serpents and things. But to us it seemed good
enough and we used to take our dips there with great glee. In fact I had my
first lessons' in swimming in that very pool. There were actually two of them
and not one, and it would be difficult to decide which was the more
&quot;untouchable&quot; of the two. The gardens around were in an equally poor
condition. They were no gardens at all, for all was primitive jungle, a tangle
of shrubs and trees and creepers, with all sorts of insects and reptiles
roaming within. And the house where we were supposed to live was in ruins.<span
style='mso-fareast-language:ZH-TW'>¹</span></p>

<p class=MsoNormal style='text-align:justify;text-indent:12.0pt;line-height:
150%;mso-pagination:none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none; margin-top:0; margin-bottom:0'>But
in spite of all, the place was absolutely quiet and silent, a reason being that
it was practically outside the city limits. The lire we lived in such
surroundings could be compared with that of nomads. The strange thing is that
despite such irregular habits, or rather the habitual irregularities of our
life there, we never fell ill. The abundance of vitality and the enthusiasm and
joy kept at bay all attacks of disease. It was very similar to the kind of life
we lived here in <st1:City><st1:place>Pondicherry</st1:place></st1:City> during
the first few years. Motilal when he saw us then exclaimed in utter surprise,
&quot;What! Is this the way</p>

<p class=MsoNormal style='text-align:justify;text-indent:12.0pt;line-height:
150%;mso-pagination:none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none; margin-top:0; margin-bottom:0'><o:p>&nbsp;</o:p></p>

<p class=MsoNormal style='text-align:justify;text-indent:11.0pt;mso-line-height-alt:
9.8pt;mso-pagination:none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none; line-height:150%; margin-top:0; margin-bottom:0'>¹ <span
style='font-size:10.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:12.0pt'>I have been there once
later. It was no longer the old Gardens but a ploughed field. There was no
trace of the jungle </span><span style='font-size:10.0pt'>left,</span><span
style='font-size:10.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:12.0pt'> it had all been dug up. The
pools too had been drained and filled and the house razed to the ground. The
British authorities had dug up every inch of the area to see if any weapons
might have been kept hidden anywhere. I found in the case of the Yugantar
office also which stood next to the </span><st1:place><st1:PlaceName><span
  style='font-size:10.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:12.0pt'>Medical</span></st1:PlaceName><span
 style='font-size:10.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:12.0pt'> </span><st1:PlaceType><span
  style='font-size:10.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:12.0pt'>College</span></st1:PlaceType></st1:place><span
style='font-size:10.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:12.0pt'> that it too had been pulled
down and there was only a little plot of open ground left in its place.<o:p>&nbsp;</o:p></span></p>

<p class=MsoNormal align=center style='text-align:center;mso-line-height-alt:
9.8pt;mso-pagination:none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none; line-height:150%; margin-top:0; margin-bottom:0'>
<span
style='font-size:10.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:12.0pt;'>Page – 346</span></p>

<div class=MsoNormal align=center style='text-align:center;mso-line-height-alt:
9.8pt;mso-pagination:none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none'>

<hr size=2 width="100%" align=center>



<p class=MsoNormal style='line-height:150%;mso-pagination:none;mso-layout-grid-align:
none;text-autospace:none; text-align:justify; margin-top:0; margin-bottom:0'>you live? And you keep him (Sri Aurobindo) too like
this?&quot; Perhaps some day I may give you a picture of that life of ours,
that life of utter freedom which looked so rustic in the eyes of
&quot;civilised&quot; people.</p>

<p class=MsoNormal style='text-align:justify;text-indent:11.25pt;line-height:
150%;mso-pagination:none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none; margin-top:0; margin-bottom:0'>Let
me end this story today with something nice and sweet. It was during my stay at
the Gardens that I had my first meeting and interview with Sri Aurobindo. Barin
had asked me to go and see him, saying that Sri Aurobindo would be coming to
see the Gardens and that I should fetch him. Manicktolla was in those days at
the far end of <st1:place>North Calcutta</st1:place> and Sri Aurobindo lived
with Raja Subodh Mullick near <st1:Street><st1:address>Wellington Square</st1:address></st1:Street>
to the South. I went by tram and it was about four in the afternoon when I
reached there. I asked the doorman at the gate to send word to Mr. Ghose – this
was how he used to be called in those days at the place – saying that I had
come from Barin of the <st1:place><st1:PlaceName>Manicktolla</st1:PlaceName> <st1:PlaceType>Gardens</st1:PlaceType></st1:place>.
As I sat waiting in one of the rooms downstairs, Sri Aurobindo came down,
stood' near me and gave me an inquiring look. I said, in Bengali, &quot;Barin
has sent me. Would it be possible for you to come to the Gardens with me now?&quot;
He answered very slowly, pausing on each syllable separately – it seemed he had
not yet got used to speaking Bengali – and said, &quot;Go and tell Barin, I
have not yet had my lunch. It will not be possible to go today.&quot; So, that
was that. I did not say a word, did my namaskara- and came away. This was my
first happy meeting with him, my first Darshan and interview.<o:p>&nbsp;</o:p></p>

<p class=MsoNormal align=center style='text-align:center;line-height:150%;
mso-pagination:none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none; margin-top:0; margin-bottom:0'>
<span
style='font-size:10.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:12.0pt;'>Page – 347</span></p>


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