सामग्री पर जाएँ
सर्वकोश
मेरा आजीवन कारावास / माझी जन्मठेप (स्वातंत्र्यवीर सावरकर - काले पानी का ऐतिहासिक संस्मरण)

मेरा आजीवन कारावास / माझी जन्मठेप (स्वातंत्र्यवीर सावरकर - काले पानी का ऐतिहासिक संस्मरण)

My Transportation for Life by Veer Savarkar

स्वातंत्र्यवीर विनायक दामोदर सावरकर द्वारा

DevanagariHindipublished386 पृष्ठ

पृष्ठ 154, कुल 386 में से

संदर्भ में पढ़ें
पृष्ठ 154

"Ullaskar is one of the noblest boys I have even seen, but he is too idealistic." What
havoc his incarceration had made upon his body and mind is clear from his own version
about it. He says, "I was yoked to the oil-mill similar to those we see in India for crushing
oil from coconut and sesame. It is the bullock that is made to run the grinding mill in
India. And even the bullock cannot turn out more than 16 lbs. of mustard seed oil during
the day. In the Andaman jail men were yoked to the handle of the turning wheel instead
of bullocks, and it was imposed upon them to yield by their hard day's work 80 lbs. of
coconut oil! Three prisoners were yoked to the handle of one mill. And they had to work
continuously from morning to evening with a brief interval for their bath and morning
meal. The interval actually given us came to no more than a few minutes. We were made
to run round the oil-mill unlike the beast which could plod on slowly. We had the fear in
our hearts that, otherwise, we shall not be completing our daily quota of oil. If any one of
us was found to slacken his pace, the Jamadar was in attendance to belabour him with his
big stick. If that bludgeoning did not hasten the pace, there was another way of
compelling him to do so. He was tied hand and foot to the handle of the turning wheel
and others were ordered to run at full speed. Then the poor man was dragged along the
ground like a man tied to the chariot wheel. His body was scratched all over and blood
came out from it. His head was knocked on the floor and was bruised. I have seen with
my own eyes the effect of this mode of getting work done. What man can make of man?
These words of the poet escaped my lips after watching the process and its torture. When
I came back in my cell in the evening, I found myself completely washed out by the
process. I was not sure that I would be alive the following morning to continue that
harrowing work. Yet I remained alive and did the work all right during the day. We all
used to say about it, 'that we are fated to do that work and we must pay the price!' All the
prisoners working with us were, however, released from it in six months and sent to work
outside. Other batches came in, worked on it for the fixed period and were sent out like
their predecessors. But myself and other political prisoners were tied down to the same
sweating toil. For years together it went on like this without respite and without change of
work. At last a day came when I was ordered abroad. But the change was no better than
from the frying pan into the fire. For I was sent to work in a district in a factory of bricks.
I had to run for the whole day, to and fro, carrying bricks that were wet and not baked yet
in fire. This work was exhausting enough for an ordinary labourer. And he was given a
daily quantity of milk as an inducement to it. But the poor prisoner hardly got that milk to
drink when the petty officer or the tindal would pounce upon his plate and empty it down
his own throat. I got my share of milk also and I at once drank it without looking
anywhere about me. A few days after, the tindal was in fury against me for not offering
him the 'naivedya'. He changed me on a labour which was not entitled to milk. Later on
he gave me the hardest work to do on the settlement. I had to climb up a steep ascent,
draw two buckets of water out of a well, tie them at both ends of a pole, and carry the
buckets with the pole on my shoulders to the bungalow of an Officer. The weight of the
buckets and water came to a maund, the ascent to the hill was steep and every moment
there was the danger of my foot slipping on it, and myself falling down into the valley
below. The work had to be done for the whole day, going up and down the steep climb. I
used to be dead tired at the end of the day though I carried on for many days. At last I
was fed up with it and refused to do it any longer. A charge of disobedience and of
shirking work was framed against me. The Magistrate tried his best to persuade me; he