Daughter Of Midnight - The Child Bride of Gandhi. Arun Gandhi

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СКАЧАТЬ he had been receiving from the ruler of Rajkot no longer arrived; the household was now wholly dependent on the earnings of Mohandas’ older brothers. As sons of a Prime Minister, they would have been candidates for appointment to the post held by their father. But times had changed. With the British dictating all such appointments neither 26-year-old Lakshimidas Gandhi nor 19-year-old Karsandas Gandhi had the knowledge or the proficiency in English which the post now required.

      Lakshimidas, who by virtue of seniority was the new head of the household, held a minor job as a law clerk. Karsandas was a sub-inspector of the royal Rajkot police. Neither position commanded a large income or much prestige. All the family’s expectations for the future were now concentrated on Mohan. His mother Putliba, especially, was determined that her youngest son should eventually become a dewan in the family tradition. That meant he must not only finish high school with good marks, but must also become the first in his family to go to college and obtain a degree.

      Mohan adopted these ambitions as his own. By the time Kasturbai returned to Rajkot at the end of the year his scholastic ranking was so improved that his small scholarship of four rupees [about 21p today], had been increased to ten rupees which he dutifully turned over to Lakshimidas, the head of the family. In his final year of high school, he was doing even better. He spent much of his time preparing for the college matriculation examinations, tests which required a solid command of written and spoken English which Mohandas lacked since he had learned his high school English from Indian teachers. These teachers, themselves, were markedly deficient in the subject.

      None of this mattered to Kasturbai. The kind of learning her husband was acquiring was far less important to her than the kind of man he was becoming. Mohan seemed increasingly sure of himself. His gawky awkwardness was giving way to an alert self-awareness; his quickness of movement appeared to be fuelled by some inexhaustible store of energy. His shyness remained, but now he seemed rooted more in deliberation than in diffidence. Mohan, in short, was growing up. That pleased her. One other thing was clear: he was still in love with her, still eager for her embraces. But Kasturbai, perceptive as always, sensed that she was no longer the be-all and end-all of her husband’s thoughts and endeavours. For reasons she could not explain, that pleased her, too.

      In November, 1887, shortly after his 18th birthday, Mohandas confidently travelled alone by bullock-cart to Ahmadabad, the largest city in the Kathiawar region, to take the matriculation examinations. He managed to pass, without much distinction, but still doing better than most: 2,200 of the 3,000 students who took the examinations failed. He applied for admission to Samaldas College in the princely state of Bhavnagar, some 90 miles southeast of Rajkot. Samaldas was a small, new college chosen by the family in preference to Bombay University because it was closer to home and less costly. Admitted for the term beginning in January of 1888, Mohan set off for a new life; this time travelling part way by camel-cart and part way by train. In Bhavnagar, in rented lodgings, he lived alone for the first time in his life.

      Before leaving for college, Mohan learned that Kasturbai was pregnant again. During her second pregnancy, Kasturbai tried to keep her hopes and fears in balance. She accompanied her mother-in-law to the temple almost daily to pray for the birth of a healthy child — if possible, a son. She missed Mohan, thought of him every day, but she was not lonely. Her oldest sister-in-law Nandkunwarba was pregnant also, and the two developed a closeness they had not known previously. That spring Nandkunwarba and Lakshimidas became parents of their first child, a daughter. The family celebrated with restraint — they were all still awaiting the arrival of a Gandhi son and heir.

      The months passed but not quickly enough for Mohan. He had realised almost from the day of his arrival at Samaldas College that he was floundering. He understood little that was said in classes. Lessons were conducted in English; his marks were abominable; he was fighting loneliness, frustration, and an oppressive awareness that he was soon to assume the responsibilities of parenthood. When his first term ended in May, he quit college and went home to Kasturbai determined never to return to Samaldas College.

      With the baby due soon Kasturbai was pleased to have him home again. This time there had been no talk of her going to her parents’ home in Porbandar for the birth — perhaps fearing the journey would be too difficult. In any case, Kasturbai was thankful. The thought of having Mohan on hand to greet their newborn and join in all the celebrations took away the last of her foreboding.

      But his return to Rajkot had plunged the rest of the family into crisis. Their plans for the future were now in jeopardy. The family consulted Mavji Dave, an old friend of Karamchand who, since the dewan’s death, had become the family’s most trusted adviser. A learned Brahmin, in tune with the times, Mavji Dave made a startling suggestion: Mohan must go to England to study law.

      Such an idea would never have occurred to anyone in the Gandhi family. Sending Mohan to Bhavnagar, barely 100 miles away, had been a financial strain. How could they even think of England? Apart from the expense involved, a member of an orthodox Hindu family could not dream of crossing the ocean and being polluted by an alien society and its strange culture. But Mavji Dave, a pragmatist, reminded the family of their lofty aspirations for the youngest Gandhi brother, and assured them that the study of English law was the surest route to high office in British-ruled India.

      “Think of that barrister, who has just come back from England,” he said. “He could have the dewan’s post for the asking.” Mavji Dave spoke of his own son, recently returned from three years of study at the Inns of Court in London where all students seeking admittance to the English bar were trained. He said Indian students were finding the course there not too difficult. His son could give Mohan advice and notes of introduction.

      Mohan wondered if he could ever live up to his family’s expectations. He found the prospect of law studies in England instantly irresistible, an answer to all his problems. The rest of the family acknowledged the value of English education, but they reacted cautiously. Lakshimidas and Karsandas wondered where they would ever find the four or five thousand rupees needed, according to Mavji Dave, for three years of study in England. Putliba, who had heard that young Indians in London were tempted to drink wine, eat meat, smoke cigars, and consort with strange women, worried about the religious risks involved in allowing a young man to go abroad alone. To Kasturbai, who had no notion of just where England was, the entire idea was incomprehensible. Besides, her mind was elsewhere.

      The debates about Mohan’s future were still unresolved on the day Kasturbai went into labour. The family waited anxiously for the delivery. This time all went well. When Kasturbai gave birth to a healthy baby boy, the entire household rejoiced. Relatives and friends were notified, feasts were prepared, gifts presented, sweets distributed. Six days after the baby’s birth, after performing the prescribed purification rites, Kasturbai emerged from the birthing room for the observance of a solemn religious ritual. According to Hindu belief, the Lord writes down a child’s destiny on the sixth day of life. A name given to the infant on that day helps the Lord identify the child.

      The son born to Kasturbai and Mohandas was given the name of Harilal which means “the Son of God”.

      Important as these events were to Kasturbai, they provided only a momentary diversion from worry for the rest of the family — and particularly for Mohandas. In the weeks following Harilal’s birth, his mother struggled with her religious misgivings about sending a son to England, Mohandas and his brothers feverishly sought to raise funds for the trip. His mood alternated between elation and depression.

      Mohan could persuade his mother Putliba to consent, but would he be able to convince Mr. Frederick Lely, the British political agent and advisor to the Rana of Porbandar, to grant him a scholarship?

      Mr. Lely was aware of the Gandhi family’s estimable record of civic service to the state of Porbandar, and might reasonably be expected to grant a state scholarship to Mohan. It was surely within his power to do so. In each of British India’s more than six hundred princely states the Hindu or Muslim rulers СКАЧАТЬ