VII. BRAHMACHARYA
-- I
We now reach the stage in this story when I began
seriously to think of taking the brahmacharya
vow. I had been wedded to a monogamous ideal ever since
my marriage, faithfulness to my wife being part of the
love of truth. But it was in South Africa that I came to
realize the importance of observing brahmacharya
even with respect to my wife. I cannot definitely say
what circumstance or what book it was, that set my
thoughts in that direction, but I have a recollection
that the predominant factor was the influence of
Raychandbhai, of whom I have already written, I can still
recall a conversation that I had with him. On one
occasion I spoke to him in high praise of Mrs.
Gladstone's devotion to her husband. I had read some
where that Mrs. Gladstone insisted on preparing tea for
Mr. Gladstone even in the House of Commons, and that this
had become a rule in the life of this illustrious couple,
whose actions were governed by regularity. I spoke of
this to the poet, and incidentally eulogized conjugal
love.'Which of the two do you prize more,' asked
Raychandbhai,'the love of Mrs. Gladstone for her husband
as his wife, or her devoted service irrespective of her
relation to Mr. Gladstone? Supposing she had been his
sister, or his devoted servant, and ministered to him
with the same attention, what would you have said? Do we
not have instances of such devoted sisters or servants?
Supposing you had found the same loving devotion in a
male servant, would you have been pleased in the same way
as in Mrs. Gladstone's case ? Just examine the view-point
suggested by me.'
Raychandbhai was himself married. I have an impression
that at the moment his words sounded harsh, but they
gripped me irresistibly. The devotion of a servant was, I
felt, a thousand times more praiseworthy than that of a
wife to her husband. There was nothing surprising in the
wife's devotion to her husband, as there was an
indissoluble bond between them. The devotion was
perfectly natural. But it required. a special effort to
cultivate equal devotion between master and servant. The
poet's point of view began gradually to grow upon me.
What then, I asked myself, should be my relation with my
wife ? Did my faithfulness consist in making my wife the
instrument of my lust ? So long as I was the slave of
lust, my faithfulness was worth nothing. To be fair to my
wife, I must say that she was never the temptress. It was
therefore the easiest thing for me to take the vow of brahmacharya
, if only I willed it. It was my weak will or lustful
attachment that was the obstacle. Even after my
conscience had been roused in the matter, I failed twice.
I failed because the motive that actuated the effort was
none the highest. My main object was to escape having
more children. Whilst in England I had read something
about contraceptives. I have already referred to Dr.
Allinson's birth control propaganda in the chapter on
Vegetarianism. If it had some temporary effect on me,Mr.
Hill's opposition to those methods and his advocacy of
internal efforts as opposed to outward means, in a word,
of self-control, had a far greater effect, which in due
time came to be abiding. Seeing, therefore, that I did
not desire more children I began to strive after
self-control. There was endless difficulty in the task.
We began to sleep in separate beds. I decided to retire
to bed only after the day's work had left me completely
exhausted. All these efforts did not seem to bear much
fruit, but when I look back upon the past, I feel that
the final resolution was the cumulative effect of those
unsuccessful strivings.
The final resolution could only be made as late as
1906. Satyagraha had not then been started. I had not the
least notion of its coming. I was practising in
Johannesburg at the time of the Zulu 'Rebellion' in
Natal, which came soon after the Boer War. I felt that I
must offer my services to the Natal Government on that
occasion. The offer was accepted, as we shall see in
another chapter. But the work set me furiously thinking
in the direction of self-control, and according to my
wont Idiscussed my thoughts with my co-workers, It became
my conviction that procreation and the consequent care of
children were inconsistent with public serviice. I had to
break up my household at Johannesburg to be able to serve
during the 'Rebellion'. Within one month of offering my
services, I had to give up the house I had so carefully
furnished. I took my wife and children to Phoenix and led
the Indian ambulance corps attached to the Natal forces.
During the difficult marches that had then to be
performed, the idea flashed upon me that if I wanted to
devote myself to the service of the community in this
manner, I must relinquish the desire for children and
wealth and live the life of a vanaprastha - of
one retired from household cares. The'Rebellion' did not
occupy me for more than six weeks, but this brief period
proved to be a very important epoch in my life. The
importance of vows grew upon me more clearly than ever
before. I realized that a vow, far from closing the door
to real freedom, opened it. Up to this time I had not met
with success because the will had been lacking, because I
had had no faith in myself, no faith in the grace of God,
and therefore, my mind had been tossed on the boisterous
sea of doubt. I realized that in refusing to take a vow
man was drawn into temptation, and that to be bound by a
vow was like a passage from libertinism to a real
monogamous marriage. 'I believe in effort, I do not want
to bind myself with vows,' is the mentality of weakness
and betrays a subtle desire for the thing to be avoided.
Or where can be the difficulty in making a final decision
? I vow to flee from the serpent which I know will bite
me, I do not simply make an effort to flee from him. I
know that mere effort may mean certain death. Mere effort
means ignorance of the certain fact that the serpent is
bound to kill me. The fact, therefore, that I could rest
content with an effort only, means that I have not yet
clearly realized the necessity of definite action.'But
supposing my views are changed in the future, how can I
bind myself by a vow ? ' Such a doubt often deters us.
But that doubt also betrays a lack of clear perception
that a particular thing must be renounced. That is why
Nishkulanand has sung :
'Renunciatfon without aversion is not lasting.'
Where therefore the desire is gone, a vow of
renunciation is the natural and inevitable fruit.
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