The terrible sacrifice offered to Kali in the name of religion enhanced my desire to know Bengali life. I had read and heard a good deal about the Brahmo Samaj. I knew something about the life of Pratap Chandra Mazumdar. I had attended some of the meetings addressed by him. I secured his life of Keshav Chandra Sen, read it with great interest, and understood the distinction between Sadharan Brahmo Samaj, and Adi Brahmo Samaj. I met Pandit Shivanath Shastri and in company with Professor Kathavate went to see Maharshi Devendranath Tagore; but as no interviews with him were allowed then, we could not see him. We were, however, invited to a celebration of the Brahmo Samaj held at his place, and there we had the privilege of listening to fine Bengali music. Ever since I have been a lover of Bengali music.
Having seen enough of the Brahmo Samaj, it was impossible to be
satisfied without seeing Swami Vivekanand. So with great enthusiasm
I went to Belur Math, mostly, or maybe all the way, on foot. I loved
the sequestered site of the Math. I was disappointed and sorry to be
told that the Swami was at his Calcutta house, lying ill, and could
not be seen.
I then ascertained the place of residence of Sister Nivedita, and
met her in a Chowringhee mansion. I was taken aback by the splendour
that surrounded her, and even in our conversation there was not much
meeting ground. I spoke to Gokhale about this, and he said he did
not wonder that there could be no point of contact between me and a
volatile1 person like her.
I met her again at Mr. Pestonji Padshah's place. I happened to come
in just as she was talking to his old mother, and so I became an
interpreter between the two. In spite of my failure to find any
agreement with her, I could not but notice and admire her
overflowing love for Hinduism. I came to know of her books later.
I used to divide my day between seeing the leading people in
Calcutta regarding the work in South Africa, and visiting and
studying the religious and public institutions of the city. I once
addressed a meeting, presided over by Dr. Mullick, on the work of
the Indian Ambulance Corps in the Boer War. My acquaintance with
The Englishman stood me in good stead on this occasion too. Mr.
Saunders was ill then, but rendered me as much help as in 1896. Gokhale liked this speech of mine, and he was very glad to hear Dr.
Ray praising it.
Thus my stay under the roof of Gokhale made my work
in Calcutta very easy, brought me into touch with the foremost
Bengali families, and was the beginning of my intimate contact with
I must needs skip over many a reminiscence of this memorable month.
Let me simply mention my flying visit to Burma, and the foongis2
there. I was pained by their lethargy. I saw the golden pagoda. I
did not like the innumerable little candles burning in the temple,
and the rats running about the sanctum brought to my mind thoughts
of Swami Dayanand's experience at Morvi. The freedom and energy of
the Burmese women charmed just as the indolence of the men pained
me. I also saw, during my brief sojourn, that just as Bombay was not
India, Rangoon was not Burma, and that just as we in India have
become commission agents of English merchants, even so in Burma have
we combined with the English merchants, in making the Burmese people
our commission agents.
On my return from Burma I took leave of Gokhale. The separation was
a wrench, but my work in Bengal, or rather Calcutta, was finished,
and I had no occasion to stay any longer.
Before settling down I had thought of making a tour through India
travelling third class, and acquainting myself with the hardships
of third class passengers. I spoke to Gokhale about this. To begin
with he ridiculed the idea, but when I explained to him what I hoped
to see, he cheerfully approved. I planned to go first to Benares to
pay my respects to Mrs. Besant, who was then ill.
It was necessary to equip myself anew for the third class tour.
Gokhale himself gave me a metal tiffin-box and got it filled with
sweet-balls and puris. I purchased a canvas bag worth twelve annas
and a long coat made of Chhaya3 wool. The bag was to contain this
coat, a dhoti, a towel and a shirt. I had a blanket as well to
cover myself with and a water-jug. Thus equipped I set forth on my
travels, Gokhale and Dr. Ray came to the station to see me off. I
had asked them both not to trouble to come, but they insisted. 'I
should not have come if you had gone first class, but now I had to,'
No one stopped Gokhale from going on to the platform. He was in his
silk turban, jacket and dhoti. Dr. Ray was in his Bengali dress.
He was stopped by the ticket collector, but on Gokhale telling him
that he was his friend, he was admitted.
Thus with their good wishes I started on my journey.