In educational matters he had very definite ideas which is now becoming more fully appreciated. English schools were at that time not only regarded as the only efficient medium for instruction. While my father's subordinates sent their children to the English schools intended for gentle folks, I was sent to the vernacular school where my comrades were hardy sons of toilers and of others who, it is now the fashion to regard, were belonging to the depressed classes. From these who tilled the ground and made the land blossom with green verdure and ripening corn, and the sons of the fisher folk, who told stories of the strange creatures that frequented the unknown depths of mighty rivers and stagnant pools, I first derived the lesson of that which constitutes true manhood. From them too I drew my love of nature. When I came home accompanied by my comrades I found my mother waiting for us. She was an orthodox Hindu, yet the "untouchableness" of some of my school fellows did not produce any misgivings in her. She welcomed and fed all these as her own children; for it is only true of the mother heart to go out and enfold in her protecting care all those who needed succour and a mother's affection. I now realise the object of my being sent at the most plastic period of my life to the vernacular school, where I was to learn my own language, to think my own thoughts and to receive the heritage of our national culture through the medium of our own literature. I was thus to consider myself one with the people and never to place myself in an equivocal position of assumed superiority. This I realised more particularly when later I wished to go to Europe and to compete for the Indian Civil Service, his refusal as regards that particular career was absolute. I was to rule nobody but myself, I was to be a scholar not an administrator.
THE HISTORY OF A FAILURE THAT WAS GREAT
There has been some complaint that the experiment of meeting out cut and dried moral texts as a part of school routine has not proved to be so effective as was expected by their promulgators. The moral education which we received in our childhood was very indirect and came from listening to stories recited by the 'Kathas' on various incidents connected with our great epics. Their effect on our minds was very great; this may be because our racial memory makes us more prone to respond to certain ideals that have been impressed on the consciousness of the nation. These early appeals to our emotions have remained persistent; the only difference is that which was there as a narrative of incidents more or less historical, is now realised as eternally true, being an allegory of the unending struggle of the human soul in its choice between what is material and that other something which transcends it. The only pictures now in my study are a few frescoes done for me by Abanindra Nath Tagore and Nanda Lal Bose. The first fresco represents Her, who is the Sustainer of the Universe. She stands pedestalled on the lotus of our heart. The world was at peace; but a change has come. And She under whose Veil of Compassion we had been protected so long, suddenly flings us to the world of conflict. Our great epic, the Mahabharata, deals with this great conflict, and the few frescoes delineate some of the fundamental incidents. The coming of the discord is signalled by the rattle of dice, thrown by Yudhisthira, the pawn at stake, being the crown. Two hostile arrays are set in motion, mighty Kaurava armaments meeting in shock of battle the Pandava host with Arjuna as the leader, and Krishna as his Divine Charioteer. At the supreme moment Arjuna had flung down his earthly weapon, Gandiva. It was then that the eternal conflict between matter and spirit was decided. The next panel shows the outward or the material aspect of victory. Behind a foreground of waving flags is seen the battle field of Kurukshetra with procession of white-clad mourning women seen by fitful lights of funeral pyres. In the last panel is seen Yudhisthira renouncing the fruits of his victory setting out on his last journey. In front of him lies the vast and sombre plain and mountain peaks, faintly visible by gleams of unearthly light, unlocalised but playing here and there. His wife and his brothers had fallen behind and dropped one by one. There is to be no human companion in his last journey. The only thing that stood by him and from which he had never been really separated is Dharma or the Spirit of Righteousness.
LIFE OF ACTION
Faridpur at that time enjoyed a notoriety of being the stronghold of desperate characters, dacoits by land and water. My father had captured single-handed one of the principal leaders, whom he sentenced to a long term of imprisonment. After release he came to my father and demanded some occupation, since the particular vocation in which he had specialised was now rendered impossible. My father took the unusual course to employ him as my special attendant to carry me, a child of four, on his back to the distant village school. No nurse could be tenderer than this ex-leader of lawless men, whose profession had been to deal out wounds and deaths. He had accepted a life of peace but he could not altogether wipe out his old memories. He used to fill my infant mind with the stories of his bold adventures, the numerous fights in which he had taken part, the death of his companions and his hair-breadth escapes. Numerous were the decorations he bore. The most conspicuous was an ugly mark on his breast left by an arrow and a hole on the thigh caused by a spear thrust. The trust imposed on this marauder proved to be not altogether ill placed for once in a river journey we were pursued by several long boats filled with armed dacoits. When these boats came too near for us to effect an escape the erstwhile dacoit leader, my attendant, stood up and gave a peculiar cry, which was evidently understood. For the pursuing boats vanished at the signal.
INDUSTRIAL EFFORTS
I come now to another period of his life fifty years from now, when he foresaw the economic danger that threatened his country. This Agricultural and Industrial Exhibition was one of the first means he thought of to avert the threatened danger. Here also he attempted to bring together other activities. Evening entertainments were given by the performances of "Jatras," which have been the expression of our national drama and which have constantly enriched our Bengali literature by the contributions of village bards and composers. There were athletic tournaments also and display of physical strength and endurance. He also established here the people's Bank, which is now in a most flourishing condition. He established industrial and technical schools, and it was there that the inventive bend of my mind received its first impetus. I remember the deep impression made on my mind by the form of worship rendered by the artisans to Viswakarma God in his aspect as the Great Artificer: His hand it was that was moulding the whole creation; and it seemed that we were the instruments in his hand, through whom he intended to fashion some Great Design.
In practical agriculture my father was among Indians one of the first to start a tea industry in Assam, now regarded as one of the most flourishing. He gave practically everything in the starting of some Weaving Mills. He stood by this and many other efforts in industrial developments. The success of which I spoke did not come till long after—too late for him to see it. He had come before the country was ready, and it happened to him as it must happen to all pioneers. Every one of his efforts failed and the crash came. And a great burden fell on us which was only lifted by our united effects just before his work here was over.
A failure? Yes but not ignoble or altogether futile. Since it was through the witnessing of this struggle that the son learned to look on success or failure as one, to realise that some defeat was greater than victory. And if my life in any way proved to be fruitful, then that came through the realisation of this lesson.
To me his life had been one of blessing and daily thanksgiving. Nevertheless every one had said that he wrecked his life which was meant for far greater things. Few realise that out of the skeletons of myriad lives have been built vast continents. And it is on the wreck of a life like his and of many such lives there will be built the Greater India yet to be. We do not know why it should be so, but we do know that the Earth Mother is hungry for sacrifice.