Few months in internment

On reaching Gidni our first task was to visit the police station and inform them about my presence. The police was at a distance of  five miles, and we had to travel by a  bullock cart.  We were  not  permitted any  rest after the train journey for the  police officer who accompanied us wanted to hand over  charge and leave. I was tired both  physically  and  mentally for I was  on  liquid diet , and the thought  of  Shanti and  others on  hunger strike was a  weight on my  mind. We returned from the police station in the  evening and came to a little cottage on the outskirts of  the village. There were many  rules and regulations about staying in the cottage. The officer from the  police station gave me all the instructions.  The  path on the right side was out  of bounds; on the  left , I could only go up to a little stream that ran by.  I must never call on neighbours or speak to people on the way . But there  was no  high  wall around , nor was anyone guarding me all the time.   Only I had to return home by six in the evening. There was a forest of ‘sal; trees all around, with a narrow path running through it.  In the midst of  nature’s soothing balm , and with my  parents taking care of me , I soon regained my health.

Only at times I felt sad when I thought of my friends still behind prison  bars… All the little boys and girls of the village gathered round my cottage.   No one stopped them from coming.  I spent my days talking with  them , teaching them to read  and  write , and also to sew. With them I would go along the village path to the little spring that ran nearby.  A young mother  who lived in hut on the  other side  of the path , would often  leave her  eight  month  old baby with me.  I spent a lot of time playing with her. The mothers could not come but they always sent their children. I would often  take my mother and  all the children in a bullock cart and go to the heart  of the  forest.  We had grand  feasts over there.  Whenever anyone called on father, I would speak with them only from behind the door, so father would laugh and say “the police have turned you into a purdah- lady”.

On Bijoya–dasami, all my neighbours would leave on my verandah many kinds of delicacies and savouries prepared by them for the festival. I would bring the food inside after they departed. All the villagers wished to send their tokens of love and affection for their imprisoned daughter. There was silence all around in the evenings with twinkling lights in distant homes. Night had its own special beauty.

This was the first time I was staying in a village. Only once I had been to Amiya’s village for a day or two when we lived in dread of snakes all the time. We were greatly relieved when we came back from there. But the village appeared beautiful in Gidni. A few days after our arrival a three year old boy came one day and sat on my lap. He had nothing on his rough and unkempt body. I learnt that his mother had gone away leaving him behind and that his father was dead. Finding a little love he stayed on in my house. He had survived so long on the charity of the village folk, who out of pity gave him some food. Now he would go nowhere else. At night he slept with his brother at neighbor’s home. One afternoon he came home with bleeding scratches all over his body and his brother told us how he had rushed in to collect some food scattered by a funeral procession of some wealthy villager. In the scuffle he got injured. I cleaned his wounds and put some iodine on the cuts.

Another morning he did not come. After some time when I tried to find out what was wrong with I learned that he was very ill and foaming in the mouth. Who would send for a doctor for him? I sent my young brother in search off one. A kind-hearted doctor was found who tried his best to help him. In the darkness of the night, I broke my curfew and went into the village to see him. I caught a glimpse of him from afar. He seemed to be unconscious. In the morning I heard that he died at night and soon after his body was buried under a tree in a distant field. A very sad ending to his young life. He left us all in tears after his short stay.

The  inspector from the   police station often came to our  place to make enquiries. He was quite friendly. One day I asked him about this girl, if he knew where she came from. I was  worried that her family might be  anxious about her.  A few days later I  found two policemen trying to take her away. The police had found out  about her home  from where she had run away , because her husband and mother-in-law used to beat her.  I asked the police to leave her.

Next day I was sitting with my mother in the kitchen , when our maid-servant came and told us , “Didimoni, you did so much for her , gave her food everyday; now listen to what she has done! This morning she was found on the railway track , and the Bombay  Mail had gone over her body. She was wearing the sari you had given her “  Greatly perturbed I rushed out and found her dish and tumbler lying on the verandah.  I had given her a small bottle of oil , that was also kept there neatly. There were some grains of rice on her dish. She was trying to repay her debt. I shed bitter tears for her. Even today whenever I think of her I cannot control my tears. Later when I related  this incident to my father he remarked, “People of our world are heartless , so she never shared her sorrow with them. She has taken her burden of woes  to her  Creator in heaven.” She was not dumb but she never answered any of  my  queries. I was hurt and wondered why she never  shared her sorrow with me.

Eight months elapsed very quickly. My sister came from Jaipur with her  husband and children to spend a few happy days with me. All internees were being sent home. Liladi was sent to   Dacca. We worried about father staying in the village with all his ailments. But he refused to go back to Kolkata leaving me behind.  Our worries soon ended when we read about Gandhiji’s talks with the Bengal Government. Nearly eleven hundred political prisoners would be released.

My release order also arrived , and I was allowed to return to my  home in   Ballygunge. My sister-in-law came to take us back to Kolkata. On the last day of my stay all the little children of the village came to our home and we had a feast.  Nothing could stop me now from visiting all my neighbours.  I asked for their blessings, and thanked them for all the kindness they had extended to me to brighten my life in the village. I promised to cherish these memories all life long.

I bid farewell to Medinipur ,where I spent the most valuable years of my life. Paying my homage to all the martyrs and brave men who had  enriched Medinipur with their sacrifice, I boarded the train for Kolkata.