Mr. Kallenbach had accompanied me to England with a view to going to India. We were staying together and of course wanted to sail by the same boat. Germans, however, were under such strict surveillance that we had our doubts about Mr. Kallenbach getting a passport. I did my best to get it, and Mr. Roberts, who was in favour of his getting his passport, sent a cable to the Viceroy in this behalf. But straight came Lord Hardinge's reply: 'Regret Government of India not prepared to take any such risk.' All of us understood the force of the reply.
It was a great wrench for me to part from Mr. Kallenbach, but I
could see that his pang was greater. Could he have come to India, he
would have been leading today the simple happy life of a farmer and
weaver. Now he is in South Africa, leading his old life and doing
brisk business as an architect.
We wanted a third class passage, but as there was none available on
P. & O. boats, we had to go second.
We took with us the dried fruit we had carried from South Africa, as
most of it would not be procurable on the boat, where fresh fruit
was easily available.
Dr. Jivraj Mehta had bandaged my ribs with 'Mede's Plaster' and had
asked me not to remove it till we reached the Red Sea. For two days
I put up with the discomfort, but finally it became too much for me.
It was with considerable difficulty that I managed to undo the
plaster and regain the liberty of having a proper wash and bath.
My diet consisted mostly of nuts and fruits. I found that I was
improving every day and felt very much better by the time we entered
the Suez Canal. I was weak, but felt entirely out of danger, and I
gradually went on increasing my exercise. The improvement I
attributed largely to the pure air of the temperate zone.
Whether it was due to past experience or to any other reason, I do
not know, but the kind of distance I noticed between the English and
Indian passengers on the boat was something I had not observed even
on my voyage from South Africa. I did talk to a few Englishmen, but
the talk was mostly formal. There were hardly any cordial
conversations such as had certainly taken place on the South African
boats. The reason for this was, I think, to be found in the
conscious or unconscious feeling at the back of the Englishman's
mind that he belonged to the ruling race, and the feeling at the
back of the Indian's mind that he belonged to the subject race.
I was eager to reach home and get free from this atmosphere.
On arriving at Aden we already began to feel somewhat at home. We
knew the Adenwallas very well, having met Mr. Kekobad Kavasji
Dinshaw in Durban and come in close contact with him and his wife.
A few days more and we reached Bombay. It was such a joy to get back
to the homeland after an exile of ten years.
Gokhale had inspired a reception for me in Bombay, where he had come in spite of his
delicate health. I had approached India in the ardent hope of
merging myself in him, and thereby feeling free. But fate had willed