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

jackal, and other tamed animals Hence, today, the jungle resounds with the sound of
Indian birds and beasts.
The wonders of the sea, in this part of the world, are as boundless as those of the
jungle. Conches, shells and hailstones, of variegated shapes and colours, convoluted and
lined, strew its sandy beach in overwhelming proportion. The Creator here . proves
himself a wonderful artist and painter. His handiwork is simply marvellous. Who can
describe its beauty and grandeur? The shells and conches are arrayed within and without
with lanes of shaded colour that excel the beauty of the rainbow. If a human artist were to
transfer to his canvass a fraction of this glorious display in line and colour, he would
make himself immortal He will furnish forth a specimen of art worthy to find its place in
any museum of the world. Nature, as it were, is behaving like a prodigal in lavishing her
plenty, in minerals, stones, reptiles and other creatures, on the foreshore of this belt of sea
round the islands. The procession of an emperor goes along the road of a busy thorough-
fare, and leaves the whole path behind him strewn with flowers of gold and pearl, which
his admirers shower upon him in the passage. So do the conches, shells and hailstones lie
here like sprays of colour thrown off the brush of a master artist. Fishes, crocodiles,
alligators and sea snakes rise and fall on the sea-shore with the ebb and tide of its rolling
billows Of how many shapes are they indeed ! Some with a sword-like pointed tail, ready
to cut our feet and flesh with its lash , others with the mouth of a horse; others, again,
with tails that flash with the charge of electricity; others having human faces;-an endless
variety of them which only a few travellers in these regions have enumerated and
described in their works. Many and varied are these creatures to be seen rolling on the
sea-beach, or sorting on its waves in the vicinity of these islands.
Andaman and Hindustan
A reference to this works of Marco Polo range of Islands is found in the and
Nicolo, as also in the earlier writings of Arabian and European travellers. But India must
have had contact with them far earner than this. There are allusions in India's ancient
history to sea- voyages from Magadha kingdom in the north to Ceylon in the south.
Similarly the Andhras, the Tamils and other peoples in the south had carried invasion into
the heart of Burma, Siam, Pegu and Java, as we know from their ancient history. The
conclusion cannot, therefore, be escaped that the Indian travellers of those days had some
personal knowledge of these Islands. The specific mention of their names is found in the
annals of the Pandya kings, and in the description of a naval war in the 11th century A.D.
The sea-faring monarch of this dynasty invaded and conquered Pegu; and while returning
home with his naval forces, he landed on the Andaman and the Nicobar, islands to plant
his flag and establish his rule over these regions. This account finds its mention in the
contemporary records of that monarch's rule. However, we do not find in these Islands
today any traces or landmarks of these visitors either as travellers or conquerors. An
Officer had told me, while I was in the prison of that place, that excavations in these parts
had discovered relics of ancient palaces. I cannot vouch for the authenticity of that report,
and I have had no time since then to investigate personally into that question. So much,

however, is beyond dispute that Indians knew something of these islands and that they
ruled and stayed on them for some time in their past history.
The condition of these islands
However that may be, it made no change whatever in the life of the aborigines of
that place. As the natural condition of these islands shows no traces of the agricultural
and other cultivation of the soil by its early colonists, so the life of its natives reveals no
effect of the cultural influence of India upon it, either in the field of religion or in
intellectual and moral life.
The Andamans is a small island engirdled by the sea. It demanded a long and
continued influence of India to reclaim it for civilisation and progress, from its wild and
savage environment. The wilderness of nature and the wildness of man could only be
conquered by permanent impression in that soil of civilised life, with all the
accompaniments necessary for the stabilisation of such a life. As soon as the contact and
Influence are withdrawn, the island relapses into its state of barbarism. And this law
holds not only for the natives of the soil, but also for others who have to dwell there, for
some reason or another, for a good long time. In the Great War of 1914-18, steamers
could not ply between India and the Andamans for four months at a stretch; and
provisions of all kinds were entirely cut off during the period. The result was that the
inhabitants of this island had to go without clothing; had to feed on flesh for want of
cereals and rice; and agriculture perished for want of necessary implements and seeds.
The suspension of civilised life took the island back to fifty years. Imagine then how the
Hindu colonists of that island, in its remote past must have suffered a set- back for want
of any communication with the outside world. In those days, crossing the seas was
regarded as a sacrilege. No wonder if the civilised Hindus themselves had turned into
savages during the period that they had dwelt among them, in order to civilise them.
Having lost all touch with their own countrymen, they must have either withered away, or
been absorbed in the people with whom they had come to stay.
The aborigines in the Andamans today resemble in life and habits similar
aboriginal tribes in other parts of the world. The groups of islands round Java contain
savages who look like monkeys. One or two savages from the Nicobars, brought here as
prisoners, had a three-inches- long bone, at the lower end of the spinal cord. They found
it impossible to sit comfortably in a chair. The doctor of the place drew my attention to
them. That bone had no hair on it and no tuft of hair at the end of it. Their faces and chins
exactly resembled those of the monkey. Such savages, with the tall and appearance of a
monkey, are occasionally to be seen even in the Andamans. The only difference between
them and their originals is the latter's want of speech and the former's use of some kind
of language. The tribe of savages in the Andamans, known as Javra, have men and
women from four to four and a half feet tall. They have a coal-black complexion, hard,
short hair standing on their skulls, which they tie in tufts on the top of their heads, like the

Negroes of Africa, They have no hair on their chin and upper laps; they, move about stark
naked; and wear not a rag upon their person. They besmear their bodies with red earth,
like some Sadhus in India, and thus satisfy their lack of clothing. The women-folk, the
most ostentatious of them, wear as a piece of additional ornament, a leaf round their
waist. The Javras live a kind of austere and simple life of which the ascetic, scorning
every kind of pleasure in this world as sin, yet only may dream to realise. They are
primitives, remote from any temptation natural to civilised and human existence. They
know no match- boxes, no clothes, no bullock-carts, much less, therefore, do they know
vicious habits of railways, ocean-liners, aeroplanes and malls. They know no chairs to sit
on, and no shoes to wear; no house to live in and no art of agriculture either. They do not
cook their food and use no machine, neither the Charakha, nor the spanning wheel.
Civilisation and its accompaniments, which are considered by a certain school of
devotees as the enemy of plain living and high thanking and a danger to mankind, the
Javras know not and desire not. They are not only strangers to it, but they dislike it. The
simplest and the most ascetic among us have, at least, the need of a loin-cloth round their
body. But the Javra not only does not wear it, but is not even tempted to wear it. Are
they, therefore, contented and happy? By no means. They cultivate no soil, hold no
plough and use no bank notes. But for a fish in a creek, or a little space in it that he may
call his own, he will fight like any other human being, he will jealously guard it; and be
full of anxiety lest he might lose it. Not even the Kaiser of Germany, or the Czar of
Russia will, as jealously, guard his possessions, as the Javra will guard his own. The
Javra has to struggle for his edibles every day of his life,-which are roots underground,
fruits on the top of trees, fish in the waters, and flesh of the hunted animal on earth. He
works and fights for it as hard as a civilised man fights hard for his dally subsistence. He
has to hunt and angle, pluck and dig, as much as we have to plough the soil, sow the seed,
and reap the corn. He has to depend upon chance more than we have to depend on it, for
his daily subsistence.
A hail-shower of arrows
There is another tribe in these parts as savage as the Javras. The men of this tribe
are taller than the Javras, and, in some respects, more progressive than they. Perhaps, this
tribe is a cross-breed between the early colonists and the aborigines of the place. The
Javras are monogamous and know the use of the bow and arrow to perfection. The bow
they use is six feet in length. They are fine shots with the bow. With the help of this
weapon they have still maintained their freedom. Of course, they cannot hold their own
against the rifle and the aeroplane. Even then, they are stall free, and the Englishman has
fabled to conquer them. The Javras come out from the forest, lie in ambush, and attack
Government camps or the policeman's cabins, or stray prisoners. They are, of course,
driven back to their haunts in the dark recesses of the forest, but the Government forces
do not pursue them further, for it is so very dangerous to do so. It is not so easy to beat
and conquer a brave people like the Javras, to stand the hail-shower of their arrows, as it
is to conquer and subdue a province of India. That question is not urgent at the present
moment; and the Javras roam about unmolested in these jungles. They settle in batches,
in the empty spaces of their jungles, and they lead a life as their ancestors had lived it

centuries ago. They go about naked; they hunt after wild boars; they eat raw flesh; they
worship ghosts and dead bodies; and they enjoy the life that they live. If one were to
denounce them to their face that they are barbarious, the eldest of the tribe will not
scruple to flay the person alive on the spot, and consume his flesh as his choicest morsel
of food.
Cannibals
For the Javras are stall cannibals. Daring European travellers have penetrated into
these parts, have made friends with the Javras, and left behind them interesting records of
their dialect and their manners and customs. Some of the prisoners in the Andamans have
succeeded in making themselves intimate with these cannibals, and have enjoyed
hospitality at their hands. They have returned alive to tell us about them. The story is
conclusive on one point and in favour of the Javras. They never kill those who surrender
themselves to them. However, they regard British Officers and civilised men as their
natural enemies, and, coming out of their jungles to pry, they kill them if they catch them.
They eat man raw, or roast him by hanging his body on the fire, and thus devour him.
They start out for hunting with the dawn of day. Every one carries his bow and arrow
across his shoulders. The women go out for fishing and catching small game. The tribe
usually settles under one roof. The big game belongs to all. They share it all in common.
The fault and the honey each one keeps for himself. At sunset they light fire and keep the
big game hanging on it. The roasted part is cut into pieces and all make a common meal
on it. Occasionally, after the meal, they Indulge in a common dance males and females
mingle and dance together They appoint a king to rule them and they hold him in high
reverence. After the dance, pell-mell and stark naked, they sleep in a circle around the
fire that they kindle at sunset.
Some runaways from our prison tell us that when they treated the Javras to some
preparation of vegetables which was the product of their own cultivation, the latter were
wonderstruck by it. When any one dies among them, his dead body is kept hanging on a
tree for some days. Then they pelt it with stones and drop it down. Nobody knows how
they dispose it off subsequently. Nothing is yet known about their religious beliefs and
practices. Yet, they fear dead bodies; are afraid of ghosts, and fear is the prime clement in
their faith and worship. Beyond that stage they seem to know nothing of God and
Religion. One of their tribes, many years back, had gone over to the British and had
sought their shelter and protection. The members of that tribe have incurred the hatred of
the aborigines as much as any civilised man Though the Javras pass their lives in
seclusion, and in isolation from the rest of the world, country liquor and foreign brandy
have begun, slowly but surely, to penetrate their hearths and homes.

Their Occupation
The Javras that made friends with the British Officers in the Andamans, have
learnt some kind of trade and business as a result of their contact with the outside world.
They gather beautiful conches and shells and other stones on the seashore, and bring
them to English Officers in their cabins. They also sell these articles in exchange for glass
toys and trinkets, sugar and tobacco. They stay for a while in the adjoining shawls built
for that purpose, and again return and disappear in the dark regions of the dense forest
that is their home Occasionally, they also sell honey. The Government collects all these
things from them for export to foreign countries. The conches polished and set in silver or
gold fetch a fancy price in the markets of Europe. These Javras, as a result of their
contact with the Europeans, are domesticated enough to put a piece of cloth round their
loans. And their women cover their parts with a single big leaf or with a garland of leaves
round their waists. Their contact with the settlers has produced a generation which is the
hybrid of two races. The Javra women are found to cohabit with soldiers and other
Europeans in the settlement and their children show a distinct mark of this fusion in their
white complexion and European features. The Hindus in that settlement have also taken
to wife the Javra women, and the children born of that union are fairer in complexion
than their parents. These children, when they grow into young men and women, are given
a sort of education which finds employment for them in Government service. A woman
or two have turned nurses, and become governesses. In private families. The wife of the
Chief Commissioner of the Andamans had for her companion in the family, one of the
trained Javra women.
The modern history of the Andamans begins somewhere from 1766 A.D. Prior to
that date, convicts from India were sent to Singapore, Penang, Malacca and Tenasserim
islands to serve their term of transportation. Engineer Colebrooke and Captain Blair were
the two Englishmen who, in 1766, treed to turn the Andamans into a regular settlement
Before that time many a British boat foundered and was stranded on the shore of these
islands. We can stall read the horrible accounts of these mishaps. When Captain Blair
selected this spot for settlement, its climate and temperature were altogether detrimental
to the health of settlers in that place. The first convicts brought to settle there perished
almost to a man. Port Blair, the present harbour of the Andaman islands, derives its name
from its early founder, no other than captain Blair himself. The captives in the Indian
Mutiny of 1857-58, soldiers to be counted in their thousands, were also sentenced and
despatched to this place to serve their term of imprisonment. And this was the beginning
of settlement in the Andamans. When I was in the prison of the Andamans, an old man
who was one of the surviving convicts of the place and captives in the Indian Mutiny,
sent me a message of congratulation for my incarceration in this prison for an attempt to
overthrow the Raj similar to the one they had planned in their day. I heard, later on, that
the old convict had been released after serving sixty years of transportation, on the
occasion of a durbar or some similar celebration. The settlement began with
Imprisonment, in this place, of soldiers involved in the Indian Mutiny of 1857. And here I
am today to end it as a convict in the conspiracy case of 1907-08 What a strange
coincidence this! Some persons involved in the conspiracy and revolt of Wasudev

Balwant Phadke were also sent to serve their Imprisonment in the Andamans. One or two
of them happened to be discharged from this place about the time or some time after I
had reached the settlement. Some Hindu culprits involved in the Hindu-Muslim riots of
1893 had also been here, as I was told. The Manipur Conspiracy Case had contributed its
quota to this prison. And members of the Manipur Royal Family had been put on parole,
and lived their lives in a place on the settlement, set apart for that purpose. Such is the
story of these Islands since they were selected for the Imprisonment of political prisoners
or prisoners involved in similar trials. Hundreds of them, before me, had passed their
lives under hard labour in the jail of the Andaman island. But none had so far recorded
the story of their imprisonment as I am led to do it now. None had treed so far to stamp it
on the heart of India. It is, indeed, a peculiar conjunction of events that impels me to
narrate that tale. Thousands of Indians in that place have their claim for consideration,
sympathy and duty on the whole of India. They belong to no one province and owe
allegiance to Mother India alone, in spite of their difference in caste and creed, in party
and other persuasion. The fact is being realised today, however dimly, more than at any
time in India's previous history. It is principally the political prisoners of India who have
brought this home to the heart of her people.

Port Blair

Port Blair is the name of the harbour and the main island of this settlement. The
Andamans contain, by far and large, a collection of Burmese and Indian prisoners. As
such, during the last sixty or seventy years its population happens to be mainly composed
of Indians. In the Nicobar Islands, on the other hand, the Burmese and the Malayans form
their naturalised and settled population. These islands, therefore, are lost today to Indian
culture and to contact with Hindu Society The Andamans are having less and less of
Indian prisoners now. So there is every fear of their being cut off from contact with India,
and the settlement itself being denuded of its Indian population. I, therefore, thank it to be
my duty to write a few words here on this question in order to draw the attention of the
Indian public to a matter of such vital importance I take upon myself all the blame of
having neglected it before.

So soon as the number of Indian prisoners being sent to the Andamans had begun
to decline, the Officers of the place planned to divide the whole island into plots, and to
put out for sale, the right of Government plantation in coconut and betel-nut trees, to
intending purchasers. They intended by this ruse to purchase the whole settlement for
themselves and turn it out into a personal estate. As a result the best part of this land with
its gardens and plantations is gradually passing into the hands of European and Anglo-
Indian settlers on the island. There are almost no Indian merchants in the Andamans rich
enough to bid for the purchase of these estates. The merchants in India know nothing
about the deal. So the land is going cheap to the settlers mentioned above, with the result
that the islands, before long, will be completely lost to India. Such of the local merchants
as have purchased a few of these plots and plantations are without resource in proper men
from India to develop them, and to enrich themselves with the wealth they contain. A

golden opportunity for possessing these lands and developing them as fruitful economic
projects is being thus denied to India. The jungles also, out here, are being let out on
cheap rent for clearing and colonisation. And Christian missionaries and their societies
are taking full advantage of this facility. They have prepared a scheme to transplant
Santal and other tribes in India to the Andamans, convert them to Christianity, and settle
them in vast colonies on the jungles made available to them for clearing, cutting and
exploitation. No Indian or Hindu merchant ever thinks of utilising this opportunity. None
of them has even so much as paid attention to the immense possibilities of such a project.
Go and colonise
When the Andamans were an entirely prison settlement, others found it difficult
to open it for trade and business. But now this difficulty will not arise. Hence it is up to
the merchants in India to purchase land and plantations in that part of the world, and they
should not jail to turn this opportunity to advantage. Full information about it cannot be
given here for obvious reasons. They should write to the Chief Commissioner of
Andamans for the information they need. It is profitable by far to purchase acres of land
in the Andamans that are being sold for a song, than to enter into endless litigation for
over a span-worth of land in Indian courts. That is a policy of mass ignorance and
perversity, not unlike that of the frogs in the pond. They may exclaim, "Oh, we are
fighting for our ancestral property we have earned by our own efforts. The latter win the
blessing of their God and their country as well. God and the country smile on those who
earn by the sweat of their brow. The Indian legislatures discussed the problem of the
Andamans only so long as Indian prisoners were being deported to that place. But our
councilors seem to have forgotten the Andamans with the discontinuance of that practice.
It is regrettable that they should do so. For there are yet in the Andamans ten thousand
people who are Indians in blood and religion. Besides this, four generations of Indian
political prisoners have sacrificed their lives, and the ashes of some of these have mixed
with the soil of that country. The islands which have thus witnessed the hardships of so
many Indians cannot be considered as negligible. Apart from these patriotic and political
considerations, the soil is rich in rapid development in the shape of tea plantations, rubber
cultivation, the growth of sugarcane and gardens of coconut trees and betel-nut trees. And
it admits of still more intensive and wider cultivation and development. Shall India have
no share in this process? Should the foreign European settler be allowed to have the
monopoly of it? During the last fifty years, only small portion of these islands has been
brought under cultivation. Its vast jungles still remain to be cut, cleared and explored for
human habitation. The jungles are capable of giving us twice the yield that they.' But
these foolish and stay-at-home persons should remember that it is a foolish and idle boast
to swear by our ancestral inheritance; it is creditable to be proud of what are giving now.
It is up to the members of our central legislature to demand full information on the
existing condition and growth, and the future possibilities of these Islands, as also about
the future plans of the Government as regards their parceling out the cultivable soil for
sale. They must insist on knowing if there is behind these plans a policy of exploiting the
Islands for the exclusive use and permanent domination of foreign settlers on the soil, and
whether they will put the soil out for open sale and advertise it in India. It is also

necessary that some members should visit and tour the islands to see their condition
firsthand and to ascertain the economic condition of ten thousand of their own
countrymen who happen to be its permanent residents. They must become the
mouthpiece of those who cannot speak for themselves, and exponents above all of India's
Interest in these islands. Let a member of the Arya Samaj visit the place to give them
proper knowledge of their mother tongue and religion. The Indians have tried hard that
the mother- tongue that their children should learn shall be Hindi, but Urdu is being
forced upon them. And the medium of instruction in these schools is Urdu and not Hindi
or Hindustani. If preachers, leaders and organisers go there to agitate, organise and
educate the Indian population in their own rights, and if officials come to be properly
Informed and guided in these matters, many things will be set right which are now
subject to the policy of drift and let-alonism, or of exploitation and monopoly in favour of
those who happen to be its present masters-the men on the spot. In the present chapter I
have drawn the pointed attention of the reader to certain outstanding factors of the present
situation, other matters, equally vital, being left for consideration in the narrative of the
story and in their proper place in the course of that narration.
Indianise the European names
The many divisions of the Andaman Islands are known today by their English
names. But the Indians domiciled in those parts use their Indian equivalents in common
parlance. And if an expert were to go into them, he can know for himself how effectively
they have converted them into thorough-bred Indian names. For instance, "shore-point"
has become "Suvar Peth", "Dundas point" is "Danda peth" so on and so forth. Gokulban,
Baratang, Kalatang are solve Indian equivalents that are worth noting. New and unknown
things are always best known and expressed through the familiar and the well-known. As
in knowledge so also in the evolution of language and its expression, the law is well
illustrated by the equivalents that we have quoted. Indianisation of foreign words
proceeds along natural lines and its spontaneous development takes place as the foreign
words pass from lip to lip of the common man.
In every division of this island, barracks are built and a factory is attached to each
barrack, where the prisoners are confined and made to work. Thus Phoenix Bay barracks
accommodate four hundred prisoners who are skilled artisans in metal work. Iron, brass
and tortoise shell are turned into beautiful articles by skilled prisoners in the factory
attached to these barracks. Chatham division has a saw mill for sawing planks of trees
felled in the surrounding jungles. Kalatang is famous for its tea plantations. The prisoners
are so much overworked and sweated on these plantations that they shudder to be detailed
there for labour. Cutting down a jungle is a task still more exhausting and arduous than
work in these plantations. In the earliest stages of prison-life in the Andamans, it was a
practice to set the prisoners free so soon as they had landed on its soil. Later on, they
came to be confined in prison-cells and had to undergo hard work under Government
control and supervision. The free ones had applied themselves to the cultivation of land.
and they grew rice upon it. When they had multiplied from generation to generation, their

progeny was designated as 'free', to distinguish it from their immediate and remote
prisoner-ancestors. Today these later generations contain some well-educated and decent
persons. The last stage was to build a big and self-contained prison-house where
prisoners from India could be straightaway confined for a stipulated lives on period and
freed or not freed to live their own the island, according to the sweet will of the Officers
in charge. The local criminals were also confined in this jail. This prison has come to be
known all over the place as Silver Jail or Cellular Jail wherein it was meant that political
prisoners should spend their long term in solitary confinement, and not a sound of their
groans and agonies was to reach from it to the world without. But providence had willed
it otherwise. And today it is the political prisoner's cry that is heard resounding on the
shores of India.
End of Chapter VI

CHAPTER VII
We reach Andamans
Our steamer had entered the port of the Andamans and her anchor was cast with
ringing chain into its waters. She had stopped, and boats and officers' launches were seen
gathering around her to remove the prisoners. We had to wait for a long time before we
were let down into the boats. I cast a glance around me to survey the place where I was to
pass the rest of my life. My fellow- prisoners, who had been there before me, and,
occasionally, some sepoys explained to me the topography of the Island. There was the
Ras Island, the head-quarters of the chief Commissioner of the Andamans. The island
ornamented the sea like a palace built in the land of the fairies. It was, indeed, small in
size compared with other islands. But it was so picturesque and compact that it could not
fall to ravish the mind of even a prisoner in chains like me. On the other side of the
Island, the foreshore of the sea was fringed by a long line of coconut trees waving their
crests in the gentle breeze overhead. Beyond, one observed clusters of mango trees, betel-
nut trees, and papal trees. On the wharf were crowds of people filling the whole
atmosphere with their humming voices. Higher up and just on one end of the climb, we
saw a stately building in perfect seclusion and enclosed within circular walls and shaded
by a thick grove of coconut trees All round it were gardens of coconut, betel-nut and
plantain trees. They stood there like royal menials waving their fans and holding their
umbrella over the head of this "grand monarque." The building, with its perfect calm,
struck us as the mansion of a happy, solitude-loving rich man or the manse of a retired
clergyman. We Inquired of our neighbours, and a sepoy told us that it was the very
"Silver Jail" of Barrie Baba. The guards on board the steamer had referred to that name
more than once to rebuke the unruly prisoners in their charge. And the sepoys were not
mistaken in their belief that its mere mention was enough to strike terror into their hearts.
The man, who told us the name, kindly added that, as we were presently going to that
place, he need say no more about Barrie Baba and his residence. We were let down the
boat one after another in a lane, and each one carried his bedding on his head and the pot
and pan in his hand. Landing on the pier, other prisoners were at once marched in a line
up the steep climb, under the strict escort of regulars and warders from the prison beyond.
I, alone, was kept waiting on the wharf, and in charge of European Officers. Thus
segregated from the rest, I sat there, and it suddenly struck me that the Islands were so
located in the Bay of Bengal that they constituted the bastion in the naval fortification of
India from the East. As such they had an abiding importance in the future defence of our
country.
The eastern Islands of Andaman and Nicobar are gateways into the Bay of
Bengal. If they were not to come under the control of India and if they were not properly
guarded and fortified, any foe from the East can easily launch a naval attack and knock
straightaway at the door of Calcutta. But under her control they can be turned into a
formidable naval base for the defence of India from the East. It can then be equipped with

a fleet of aeroplanes and a strong detachment of fighting ships that will guard its waters
day and night and hold in bay any attack on the shores of India. The population of the
Andamans and the present state of its culture being Indian, the Islands themselves must
form a political province of India. The Lakhadives and the Maldives, lost to India in her
early history, exposed us to European incursions from the next-door islands of Bombay
and Goa. The native rulers of those days could devise no efficient means, at the time, to
stave off these inroads. We should all learn from these mistakes of the past, and profiting
by that experience, raise an effective line of fortifications covering in their range Lakhdiv
and Maldiv islands in the West, Ceylon in the South, and the Andamans and the Nicobars
in the East of India. We must turn this base of defence into a naval fortress, not unlike the
formidable Sindhu Durga in the glorious days of Shivaji. Today Singapur constitutes our
first line of fortified defence. The Andamans are its natural front line. For, like Ceylon,
they form a natural link with India and also her cultural heritage.

Get up; on with your bed

While the future navy of India with its base in the court-yard of the Andmans was
floating on the sea of my Imagination and guarding its fortifications of the historical
Sindhu Durga, the sepoy rudely awakened me from my dreamland with the words, "Get
up, on with your bedding". He used high words because he knew that his Officer was
hearing him. It was his faith that the more insolent his language, the quicker will be his
promotion. These insulting words were a prelude to my humiliating position in ,the
prison-house of the Andamans. I got up, I took the bedding on my head, my pots and
pans in one hand, and, girding up the chains round my waist, I stood ready for further
orders. The mind suffers pain like the body hurled suddenly from a great steep height into
the deep valley below. Disillusioned, and consigning to the future the glorious picture I
had drawn, I stood up to face the grim reality of the present. I was led from the wharf to
go up a steep ascent. With heavy weights on my legs and with bare feet, I could not walk
up as rapidly as I washed The warder, beside me, was goading me on to quicken my pace.
The European Officer once rebuked him not to trouble me. In my climb upwards one
thought was persisting in my mind. It harassed me with the question, "You are going up
this climb to your prison, will you ever go down by the same road to freedom?" In a short
time we reached the top, and saw the mana gate of the "Silver Jail" in front of me. The
gate began to grate on its hinges. It opened, I went in, and it was shut behind me. I felt
that I had entered the jaws of death.

Mr. Barrie

As I stepped in, two sergeants held me on either side and made me stand up.
At the same time, I heard a whisper going round among the warders that Mr. Barrie
seemed to have seen none more cruel and hard-hearted than he, and they watched my
face to see what impression that name had made upon me. But I was absorbed in looking
at the decorations in the space between the two iron doors that had folded upon me with

their tremendous sloe. The high wall of that mighty prison was adorned at the top with a
festoon of manacles of every size and shape, and worked into the form of hideous-
looking flowers. Heavy shackles for the feet, iron bands for the arms, and several similar
instruments of torture were hanging down from the wall, right in front of me. They had a
grimness and beauty all their own, for they were befitting ornaments of the horrible
dungeon I had entered. The bayonets-the rifles-the shackles- the handcuffs-these were the
proper lay-out of that hall of torture, of that big ghastly prison, as appropriate to it as the
neat and fine garments that become an executioner, when he escorts his victim to the
block. I had read many a work dealing with the history of revolutionary movements all
over the world, and also autobiographies of martyrs in those struggles for Independence.
The descriptions in those works of the prisons in which they were confined were
harrowing enough. And they had exactly reproduced, I felt, what I was seeing before me
now. The two surly sergeants had made me stand up, that I might behold the scene and be
thoroughly downcast in soul by it. The hideous scene was staring me in the face and I
was staring at it with an eye as stern as the scene itself. I did not turn my gaze from him,
as he did not lower his eyes before mane. We seemed to understand each other, and
rightly had we measured each other's strength. I had a mysterious satisfaction that I was
here experiencing what I had read in the books, and that I was standing up in the jaws of
this horrible monster, as it were, without being ground down by its teeth. I stood calm
and composed, fearless in mind and body, and without a tremor in my limbs I had written
a poem, "The Two Images" in the Briston prison in London. Lines in that poem came up
ill my mind now. I began to revolve those lines; and my heart thrilled with their
utterance:-"Victory to the Goddess of Freedom."

Mr. Barrie's Counsel of Perfection

I had almost recovered from this maelstrom of emotion when I beheld a stout,
corpulent European Officer, carrying in its hand a big stick as formidable as himself,
standing right in front of me and watching me from head to foot. This was Mr. Barrie and
he had announced his name that it might fall upon my ears before he was himself on the
scene. He had expected me to look out for him with fear in my eyes, to cow down before
him, but I had not noticed him as my mind was absorbed in the feeling of defiance which
it had conjured up as a reaction against the fearful present that was facing me In those
few minutes he kept on watching me. My eyes caught him in that process when he
gruffly turned to the sergeant and said, "Leave him; he is not a tiger." Then, pointing his
big stick at me, he went on, "Well, are you the man who treed to escape at Marseilles?" I
answered his bold query in a similar independent but self controlled tone. "Yes, why do
you ask me that question?" The tone lowered slightly the temper of the man before me.
And he added, as if in a mood of curiosity, "Why did you do that?" "You ask me the
reason why? Well, one of the reasons was to spare myself all future trouble ." "But did
you not invite the trouble upon yourself?" "Yes, but that was because I felt that it was my
duty to do so And I may add, Mr. Barrie, that I also felt that it was my duty to be rid of
it." "Look here" said he, "I am not an Englishman. I am an Irishman." He pretended to
be as frank with me as I was frank with him. I intervened, "But I would not have hated
you for being an Englishman. I have spent the best years of my life in England, and I am

an admirer of the virtues that characterise an Englishman." "I tell you that I am an
Irishman", he replied, "to let you know that I also have taken my part in activities like
yours for the liberation of Ireland. I was young then as you are now. But since that time I
am a changed man. Look here, I tell it to you as a friend" he continued, "you are young
and I am pretty old in years. I have seen many more winters than you have." I smiled
and interrupted him, "And don't you think that, perhaps, that may be the reason of the
change that has come over you? Not increasing wisdom but dwindling energy?" The man
was non plussed and he retorted, "You are a lawyer and I am a layman, and I have but
little education. But you are a prisoner, and I am the gaoler of this prison So don't reject
my advice as useless. Murders are murders, and they will never bring Independence." "Of
course, I know it, but may I ask you, why don't you convey this to the Sinfeiners in
Ireland? Besides, who told you that I had favoured murders?" He, Allen, changed the
subject and said, "The Superintendent will be here presently. It is against the rules that a
man in my position should discuss politics with you. But my heart feels it poignantly that
a man like you, educated, scholarly, and famous, should find himself in the company of
the most hardened criminals in the world. It was thus that I was impelled to talk to you.
Let by-gores be bygones. I have nothing to do with them. I ask you to observe strictly the
regulations of this place. You are a prisoner here and it is my duty to warn you about
them. Don't break them and I will not interfere. Otherwise I shall have to punish." What
unconscious humour it was that he should be talking to a political prisoner like me, and
yet be warning that I was not to break my rules of prison- discipline in this place !
"I would give you one more tip" and it is this:-|"You will be involving yourself
in a terrible mess if ever you try to run away from this place. The prison is surrounded on
all sides by vast, dense, impenetrable jungles; the cruellest of aborigines make their
abode in them; they are cannibals. If they catch you, they kill you, and make a meal of
tender, young bodies like yours, as easily as we may eat cucumbers! Do not, please, treat
it as a joke; don't Chaff; the Jamadar here will tell you if it is not true." The Jamadar
saluted him, of course, and said, "Every word of it is true, Sahib."
" I know it but too well", I added. "The first book I ordered and read, when I knew that I
was to be sent to the Andamans, was the Government Report of these islands. I fully
realise that Port Blair is not Marseilles."
" So far so good, act as I like, and I shall prove myself useful to you. Jamadar, take him
in, and show him up to his room on the top floor of barrack number seven Lock him up."
End of Chapter VII

CHAPTER VIII
The First Week in my cell
The Jamadar led me to Chawl No. 7. On the way lay a big reservoir of water. The
Jamadar asked me to take my bath there. I had not taken my bath for four or five days My
body was full of sweat and dart. The sea- voyage had done it I was delighted with the
permission to bathe. But I had no garment to change. The Jamadar gave me a piece of
cloth no better than a suspender. I had never entered my bath in that naked condition.
What then? Was I not to wear it for bath and for my labour all my life here? The mind
revolted, but then said, "Fool ! did not a saint like Ramdas use the same apparel? The
world knows what you carry within it. From whom are you hiding it now? Has not
Milton described it as honour dishonourable'?" There was a sect in Europe which
considered it a sin to wear clothes For Adam and Eve never wore any. Their followers
adopted the same mode of life. And they called themselves Adamites. Even today, if not
for religion, then for hygiene, colonies of men and women in certain regions of the world
go about as nudists except in the cold season. They expose their bodies to sunlight as a
matter of health. For, certain doctors in the West condemn the practice of excessive
clothing as harmful to a man's health. In Europe they wear too many clothes for fashion's
sake They seldom expose their bodies to sunlight From berth to death they wrap
themselves up in clothes; and the health of these people had suffered So doctors had
opened, and the people had followed them I was thanking all this over whale I was
donning the strap of cloth that was given to me by the Jamadar. The Jamadar had
watched, with delight, the trepidation and shame of many a person here when he was
called upon to take a bath in this dress or absence of dress. But he was disappointed in me
and, perhaps, he set me down as the most shameless of them all ! I went to the tank and
was about to dip my pot into it, when the Jamadar cried out, "Not so here, you are a
prisoner, you first stand up, I will say, `take the water' you will then bend down and dip
the pot in the reservoir I will their say, 'rub your body clean'; then you will clean it with
your hands. I will say, 'have one more'. You will dip your pot for a second round, and so
on. The whole bath has to be finished in three pot-fuls of water." This order of the Pathan
Jamadar simply surprised me. I was a resident of Nasik, a place of pilgrimage where
hundreds bathed freely on the bands of the Godavari. I was accustomed, however, to the
ritual of the bath finished with scanty water. I laughed to myself and finished my bath
here in the same mood. That was a pious act done within my sea, this I had to do when I
was transported beyond it One was white and the other was black water ! That was all the
difference between the two The priest here was my bearded Jamadar and a Mohammedan
! As I poured the water on my person I felt a strange sensation. I shut my eyes and could
see nothing. I felt like burning all over the body. "Was the Jamadar wrong in his recital?",
I asked myself. Just then, I happened to gargle my mouth, and, instantly, spewed out the
water. Was it salt water I was bathing in? The tongue tasted it as salt. I asked the Jamadar
about it. He retorted, "Was ever sea- water sweet?" It was then that I realised that I had a
sea- bath here Sweet water is scarce throughout the Andamans They all use sea-water for
bathing, for washing clothes, and for several miscellaneous purposes. And the water is

conveyed in pipes and stored in the reservoir for such use.
The whole body had become sticky The hair had become hard and stiffened. It
was better I had not bathed in at. But I thought over again, and realised that it was to be
my daily habit in this prison In London and Paris I had enjoyed the luxury of a Turkish
Bath. Should I not enjoy in India the pleasure of the "Andamanish Bath", by way of
change? The expiation of all my sins as a patriot and nationalist could not be done by
washing in warm water and with soaps and fragrant oils and under shower- baths It has to
be done in pots of sea-water drawn from the reservoir, with the mantra of the Jamadar
priest: "Now dip the pot for water", repeated by him thrice, and no more.
I put on my clothes and walked on till I came in front of a three-storied building
of stone and mortar. It was solidly barred from top to bottom. Every floor of it had
separate rooms equally barred. The building had no wood- work in it. It was entirely fire-
proof. It had broad steps reaching up from one floor to another. It was all white-washed
and clean without. The stair-case and the symmetry of the rooms gave it the appearance
of a big, roomy mansion. And the heart delighted at the sight."This was then shawl
number seven. It was here I was to stay on the top-floor, and in a room all to myself, and
barred and bolted from without", I said to myself. A fine place this, me thought, I shall
have free and fresh breeze to breathe in. I shall have plenty of light in it. If this tenement
had been my own, I would have gone down as a rich man in my society And for four
months in summer I would have used it as a pleasure-resort, with this fine green court-
yard around it. If I drive away from my mind the notion that it is a prison after all, I can
still be happy in it. Speaking for its use alone, it is true enough that the pleasure or the
pain of it, as the Vedantist puts it, arises from the fact that it does or does not belong to
me. Let me then be entirely indifferent to the notion of mine and thine, which is the seed
of ail our miseries in this world. As far as in me lees, I shall try to be indifferent about it,
and derive all the joy that I can from it The building is mine so long as I occupy it. It is a
fine building and I pay no rent for it. What if they call it a prison? Let me pass my days in
it as happily and as long as I must.
But, then, how long and for hoe many days? Ah! there is the rub !
According to prison regulations I may be free within six months. If the gaoler is
particularly harsh to me, then, at the most, within a year. The warders had told me that
three years were the limit here. The Silver Jail knew not a single instance of a prisoner
being detained within its portals for more than three years. Hence I concluded that I
would be let off after three years But facing the worst, as it had been a rule of life with
me, I took it for granted that, at the longest, they will confine me in this room for a period
of five years. I, therefore, decided to accept the situation, stay in this fine building for five
years, and spend the time in composing the epic that I had already planned in the jail at
Dongri. This I took as the Government order as well as a matter of personal choice.
I was revelling in this play of fancy when I climbed up to the third floor of the

building, and stood near the door of my room. The whole of that crawl was emptied of its
inmates because I was to come there. There were a hundred and fifty prisoners in that
chawl. Only three warders, the worst of their kind as being tale-tellers, sinners, men of
evil propensities, dare-devils, and, for that reason, in the good books of their Officers,
were retained in the whole building as guards on me. The rest of the prisoners who had
denounced them were ordered to vacate the place All three of them were Mussalmans-
two Baluchis and one Pathan. All political prisoners had Mussalmans for their warders.
And myself was especially given in their charge, Those who were detailed to keep watch
and ward on my room took great pride in that mission. For, thereby, they could boast all
over the settlement that they were in the special confidence of their superiors. They were
appointed to their place because the Officers wanted through them all the Information
that they could get about the political prisoners in their charge-their possible
machinations and their secret communications. And the Officers could use the warders as
convenient tools to perpetrate any kind of cruelty, to trump up any kind of charge against
the prisoners in their charge. They were apt for these nefarious deeds and, being of so
much service to them, the Officers usually connived at their gross misdemeanour and
their Immoral action, if only they held in check their Hindu prisoners and succeeded in
terrorising them. A large portion of political prisoners in that jail being Hindus, and I
being among them, these warders were regarded by us as the greatest terror of our lives.
It was not unlike the visitation and Influence of a malignant deity. We were Hindus and a
Hindu warder may be kind towards us. Hence the authorities put upon us Mussalman
warders who reported our movements to them either in an exaggerated form, or Invented
stories about us and systematically and heartlessly maltreated us to curry favour with
their masters. Since the time that the Silver jail began to be filled with political prisoners,
the Hindu warders had fallen from the favour of their masters, and had, consequently,
suffered in their rise and promotion.
Moreover, the Pathans, as a rule, were bigoted Mohomedans, and were especially
notorious for their fanatical hatred of the Hindus. The Officers had pampered them to
serve their own ends. To persecute the Hindus was natural to them The result was that
they began to harass them all the more and justified their action by reporting fibs against
their fellow-prisoners-the Hindu warders. "Barrie Baba" as the gaoler was called, would
never countenance or entertain any complaint against his own favourites. Consequently,
the Pathan warders had nothing to fear in that quarter Not only did the Hindu warders
suffer in promotion and disfavour, but the Muslim warders succeeded more and more in
ousting them from their jobs and replacing them by their Pathan brethren. The Pathan
always sides with a Pathan. This fact, if it had been a fraternity of good men, would have
been a blessing. But here it helped them to connive at the persecution practised by
prisoners of their own community against the Hindu prisoners in the jail For the Baluchi,
the Sindhi, and the Pathan prisoners had warders belonging to their own religion while
the Hindu prisoners were systematically denied that favour. So that the Hindus suffered
doubly. First, from their fellow-prisoners, the Muslims, and secondly, from their Muslim
warders. Since our admission in that prison, the situation in this respect, had considerably
worsened. The Hindu prisoners and the Hindu warders had a hell of their lives in that
place. How these happenings had their inevitable repercussions, the reader will know in
the course of this narrative and in its proper place. We have barely referred to this matter

here precisely because the reader may grasp their significance later on. The Pathans, the
Sindhis and the Baluchi Muslims, with a few exceptions, were, one and all, cruel and
unscrupulous persons, and were full of fanatical hatred for the Hindus. Not so the
Mussalmans from the Punjab, and less even than they, those of Bengal, Tamil province
and Maharashtra. But the fanatical section always belittled and held up to laughter their
co-religionists from other parts of India. It twitted them as "half kafirs." And this constant
jibe compelled them, very often and perhaps Inevitably, to follow in the foot-steps of
their wicked brethren. That emulation did not help them, however, to ingratiate
themselves into the favour of their masters, the European Officers. They were always
inclined to favour those who were, according to them, their best servants, that is, tyrants
and persecutors of prisoners in their charge.

That was one of the reasons for placing me under the close supervision of the
most seasoned of these Pathan warders. He worse the designation of Jamadar or Petty
Officer, that is a warder, who was himself a prisoner, promoted to a higher rank in the
settlement There were three such Jamadars appointed to the task of keeping a close
supervision on my movements. The Jamadar who had brought me to my quarters in this
crawl, handed me over to these warders, closed the room, locked it, and went away.

Next morning these warders presented themselves before my room and
announced that the Sahib was coming and I was to stand up. I came to the door, which
was nothing but a barred entrance into my room. Mr. Barrie had come up with his
European friends. He had acquired a special Importance with them since my arrival in
this gaol. The Europeans in the locality, men and women, were naturally curious to see
me and talk to me. And for that purpose they had to burn incense before the demi-god,
Mr. Carrie. Mr. Barrie pretended that he was taking them to my room under great risk,
and they had to request him, again and again, before he would accede to their
importunities. He brought them here under great secrecy, and showed me to them from a
distance and, sometimes, allowed them to approach me closer, all the whale making a
show that he had done them a great favour and that he was indeed anxious how to explain
it to his superiors or how to get over the hurdle. With a solemn air he marched them away
always ending with the expostulation: "That will do ! That will do." The intending
visitors had to go to Mr. Barrie's bungalow fifteen tames over, before he would yield to
their cajoling. I know many a European sergeant and his wife and daughter who had to
flatter him thus.

The word "Sarkar" made me wake up and stand before the door according to
prison regulations. The first thing I could see through the barred entrance was not Mr.
Barrie but the protruding part of his nether region- the stomach. For it bulged out defiant
of the world, and ran before him, as it were, to display its circumambient rotundity, not
dissimilar to the spherical apparatus in the class-room to explain to the school-children
the size and shape of mother Earth Over this circumference, Mr. Barrie had fled his
leather-belt. And it marked faithfully the equatorial line on the Earth's surface.

The Indian Mutiny discussed
Mr. Barrie began his talk with me in the following words:-"They may be telling
you that I am your jailor. Is it not?" I only smiled. He added, "And I assure you I am your
friend." The European friends who had accompanied him remained silent. For Mr. Barrie
never allowed any one to talk to me directly, except some like him, and to whom he
could not deny that privilege. "I like to converse with an educated man like you.
Therefore, I come here, sometimes, without any particular reason to do so. They say that
you have written an account of the Indian Mutiny of 1857. Am I right in it?" While he
was uttering these sentences, I simply listened, with a smile on my lips and an eye upon
his countenance. I found out that he had opened the conversation to sound my mind upon
the subject, to press the key and start the music. I was Inclined on my side to let him go
on and listen, as I felt that the talk may afford me relaxation from the very dull time I had
in the solitude of this room. However, I intervened, "I have read a number of books on
the Indian Mutiny. That is a fact. " Don't you feel fed up with those monsters of cruelty?
Can you put up with their monstrosities? What horrors have alley not committed? My
father was himself a victim of that Mutiny He used to tell us that the wicked Nanasaheb
had personally tortured English women and put into their mouths XXX. Will you not call
them monsters? What else are they?" I asked him if his father was an eye-witness of the
scene. He replied, Instantly, that a colonel was an eye-witness when such things
happened in Lucknow, and he had reported them to his father "Then, it must be a down-
right lie, for Nanasaheb was not then at Lucknow. He was in Cawnpore when English
men and women were Imprisoned at Lucknow " Pretending not to hear me, Mr., Barrie
continued, "A thousand Instances like this have happened." I replied, "Very true, but
there are also a thousand canards to keep them company And as the Instance you have
quoted has proved to be a hear-say, so it may be with others as well "
One of the visitors who appeared to be a polite gentleman intervened to remark,
"But, on the whole, don't you think that Nanasaheb, Tatya Tope and other mutineers like
them were selfish men? Will you not recoil from them with contempt?" To him my
answer was, "If you desire to discuss the Indian Mutiny with me in this place and when I
am a prisoner here, I am ready to do so You must forgets however, for the time being,
that I am standing before my jailor, and concede that I am your equal. Otherwise it will
be like shutting up my mouth whale you indulge in criticism against my country and its
past history in a manner Insulting to her That will be entirely a one-sided affair to which,
as gentlemen, you will not subscribe. It will be not only despicable conduct but an act of
utter cowardice." Mr. Barrie said, "By no means, Mr. Savarkar. I have already told you
that I have come here as a friend. Discuss the matter freely."
"Then, I express my opinion without any reservation. I know that you regard me
as an extremist As such you will find my views altogether one-sided and unpalatable. I
open this discussion to make you think if they are really so. I have never concealed them
and I find no reason to conceal them now. This is purely a question of history and if I am
to suffer for my opinion on it, I shall not hide it, for I shall never tolerate any one

distorting the history of my country and misrepresenting the principal characters in it. For
to put up with such distortion. I regard as timidity and a sin. The British Government had
itself appointed a Commission to review a report on the actions of Nanasaheb in this
Mutiny And the report has completely exonerated him. The charges made against him, in
the particular episode you have mentioned, have been found by the Commission to be
baseless and exaggerated statements. They were declared to be emanations from the
wicked brain of some soldiers in the English camp at the time."
Who, pray, is not selfish?
"You have described Nanasaheb and Tatya Tope as selfish men." "Yes, for
Nanasaheb wanted back his Raj, and Tatya wanted to pass for a hero", said the visitor. I
replied, "Yes indeed, but is it not true also that victor Emmanuel wanted to be the King of
Italy, that George Washington desired to be the first President of the American Republic,
and Garibaldi wished to be a hero? But strictly speaking they all fought for the
Independence of their own country!" "Then, you also raised the revolt to seek
independence" Mr. Barrie interposed. "That is a different issue altogether The Indian
Mutiny of 1857 does not necessarily justify any revolutionary activity today Nor are we
precluded from any such action on the ground that nothing of that kind had happened in
1857 The inference on either side is not only absurd but foolish as well " The visitor, it
seemed, had read a book or two on Indian Mutiny. He retorted, "Then you mean to say
that the slaughter of English women at Cawnpore by the mutineers is a concocted story "
."I have never said that" I answered. "It is a fact and it is a deplorable fact But the issue is
who was responsible for the carnage, and how did it at all happen? The women in that
prison-camp were first treated as prisoners of war. And this is proved from the evidence
of the survivors, and of those who had independently testified to the fact. I have
reproduced that evidence in my work on the subject. When the British army marched on
Cawnpore, it set fire to the villages round about Allahabad and kept them burning. And in
that fire were destroyed the females of those who had participated in the Indian Revolt
The news inflamed the Indian regiments that had joined the Mutiny. Meanwhile, the
English women who had been confined as prisoners of war, had sent secret missives to
the army marching on Cawnpore. Their messages happened to be intercepted by soldiers
in the Indian Camp. All this had contributed additional fuel to the fire that was already
burning, with the result that you describe as the wholesale slaughter of English women by
Indian soldiers.
Both are equally guilty or not guilty
If we are to regard these act: as blameworthy, we must blame in an equal measure
the excesses of the British army, which were partly responsible for these actions. Do you
regard Cromwell's action an Ireland, the massacre he carried on at Drogheda, as an act of
monstrous cruelty? Are you ashamed of it? In times of fierce national crisis and
revolution, such things are bound to happen. And however regrettable in themselves the

incidents may be, they do not Justify the perversion of the motive behind such struggles
and revolts. Nanasaheb's forces may have put to the sword many an English woman
without his sanction or knowledge. But what of ten tames as many women burnt to death
in the campaign of fire and loot that the British army had carried in the villages round
about Allahabad? Statues have been erected to the Generals of this army in England Neile
writes in his diary about it, 'It was my duty to follow this policy of cruelty for the good of
my country.' Cannot the same words be used in defence of excesses perpetrated by the
army of mutineers? If at all there is guilt in these actions, both the sides are equally
responsible for it, more or less, or we must exonerate them both from such a charge. The
visitor said on this, "I grant that the revolt was a War of independence I also admit that
allegations made by one side against the other in that struggle are mere fabrications The
Indian soldiers may not have committed all the Indecent ants that are being attributed to
them. But what is the moral that we may derive from it now? What is the lesson we are
learning today?"
"That is none of my business. I have discussed the whole position in the spirit of
history. I am not going to descant here on its present-day applications. I think I have said
enough on the point consistent with my position today. I cannot go into that question
further at the present moment."
"Well, we shall leave it here today. Some other time we may open it again," Mr.
Barrie concluded, as if spontaneously, and left the place, after enquiring sympathetically
about my health.
An experiment in verse
For two days after, I had no work to do in my cell. I asked for books to read, and I was
told that I would get them only after a month or two of observation of my conduct as a
prisoner. Not a soul moved here with whom I could exchange a word. I resumed my
originally planned work of composing poems. I continued with what I had already done
elsewhere. But I had no means with me in this place to do the kind of literary work I had
intended to complete. It taxed my mind to the utmost to keep it going. For a single date
and a single right word, I had to scratch my brain for weeds together. However brilliant
the fancy, I had to abandon it for want of material to translate it into beautiful and apt
imagery in words. I had to draw exclusively on the stores of my memory for anything I
could think or write. For years this was the only capital I could use.
The first secret missive
It was the fourth or the fifth day of my residence here. No other prisoner was let into the
whole building from whom I might gather any news. I had just finished my morning meal