I have already said that I was learning at the high school when I was married. We three
brothers were learning at the same school. The eldest brother was in a
much higher class, and the brother who was married at the same time as I
was only one class ahead of me. Marriage resulted in both of us wasting
a year. Indeed the result was even worse for my brother, for he gave up
studies altogether. Heaven knows how many youths are in the same plight
as he. Only in our present Hindu society do studies and marriage go thus
hand in hand.
My studies were continued. I was not regarded as a dunce at the high school. I
always enjoyed the affection of my teachers. Certificates of progress
and character used to be sent to the parents every year. I never had a
bad certificate. In fact I even won prizes after I passed out of the
second standard. In the fifth and sixth I obtained scholarships of
rupees four and ten respectively, an achievement for which I have to
thank good luck more than my merit. For the scholarships were not open
to all, but reserved for the best boys amongst those coming from the
Sorath Division of Kathiawad. And in those days there could not have
been many boys from Sorath in a class of forty to fifty.
My own recollection is that I had not any high regard for my ability. I used to
be astonished whenever I won prizes and scholarships. But I very
jealously guarded my character. The least little blemish drew tears from
my eyes. When I merited, or seemed to the teacher to merit, a rebuke, it
was unbearable for me. I remember having once received corporal
punishment. I did not so much mind the punishment as the fact that it
was considered my desert. I wept piteously. That was when I was in the
first or second standard. There was another such incident during the
time when I was in the seventh standard. Dorabji Edulji Gimi was the
headmaster then. He was popular among boys, as he was a disciplinarian,
a man of method and a good teacher. He had made gymnastics and cricket
compulsory for boys of the upper standards. I disliked both. I never
took part in any exercise, cricket or football, before they were made
compulsory. My shyness was one of the reasons for this aloofness, which
I now see was wrong. I then had the false notion that gymnastics had
nothing to do with education. Today I know that physical training should
have as much place in the curriculum as mental training.
I may mention, however, that I was none the worse for abstaining from
exercise. That was because I had read in books about the benefits of
long walks in the open air, and having liked the advice, I had formed a
habit of taking walks, which has still remained with me. These walks
gave me a fairly hardy constitution.
The reason for my dislike for gymnastics was my keen desire to serve as nurse to my
father. As soon as the school closed, I would hurry home and begin
serving him. Compulsory exercise came directly in the way of this
service. I requested Mr. Gimi to exempt me from gymnastics so that I
might be free to serve my father. But he would not listen to me. Now it
happened that one Saturday, when we had school in the morning, I had to
go from home to the school for gymnastics at four o'clock in the
afternoon. I had no watch, and the clouds deceived me. Before I reached
the school the boys had all left. The next day Mr. Gimi, examining the
roll, found me marked absent. Being asked the reason for absence, I told
him what had happened. He refused to believe me and ordered me to pay a
fine of one or two annas (I cannot now recall how much).
I was convicted of lying! That deeply pained me. How was I to prove my
innocence? There was no way. I cried in deep anguish. I saw that a man
of truth must also be a man of care. This was the first and last
instance of my carelessness in school. I have a faint recollection that
I finally succeeded in getting the fine remitted. The exemption from
exercise was of course obtained, as my father wrote himself to the
headmaster saying that he wanted me at home after school.
But though I was none the worse for having neglected exercise, I am still paying the
penalty of another neglect. I do not know whence I got the notion that
good handwriting was not a necessary part of education, but I retained
it until I went to England. When later, especially in South Africa, I
saw the beautiful handwriting of lawyers and young men born and educated
in South Africa, I was ashamed of myself and repented of my neglect. I
saw that bad handwriting should be regarded as a sign of an imperfect
education. I tried later to improve mine, but it was too late. I could
never repair the neglect of my youth. Let every young man and woman be
warned by my example, and understand that good handwriting is a
necessary part of education. I am now of opinion that children should
first be taught the art of drawing before learning how to write. Let the
child learn his letters by observation as he does different objects,
such as flowers, birds, etc., and let him learn handwriting only after
he has learnt to draw objects. He will then write a beautifully formed
hand.
Two more reminiscences of my school days are worth recording. I had lost one year
because of my marriage, and the teacher wanted me to make good the loss
by skipping a class – a privilege usually allowed to industrious boys. I therefore had only six
months in the third standard and was prompted to the forth after the
examinations which are followed by the summer vacation. English became
the medium of instruction in most subjects from the fourth standard. I
found myself completely at sea. Geometry was a new subject in which I
was not particularly strong, and the English medium made it still more
difficult for me. The teacher taught the subject very well, but I could
not follow him. Often I would lose heart and think of going back to the
third standard, feeling that the packing of two years' studies into a
single year was too ambitious. But this would discredit not only me, but
also the teacher; because, counting on my industry, he had recommended
my promotion. So the fear of the double discredit kept me at my post.
When however, with much effort I reached the thirteenth proposition of
Euclid, the utter simplicity of the subject was suddenly revealed to me.
A subject which only required a pure and simple use of one's reasoning
powers could not be difficult. Ever since that time geometry has been
both easy and interesting for me.
Samskrit, however, proved a harder task. In geometry there was nothing to
memorize, whereas in Samskrit, I thought, everything had to be learnt by
heart. This subject also was commenced from the fourth standard. As soon
as I entered the sixth I became disheartened. The teacher was a hard
taskmaster, anxious, as I thought, to force the boys. There was a sort
of rivalry going on between the Samskrit and the Persian teachers. The
Persian teacher was lenient. The boys used to talk among themselves that
Persian was very easy and the Persian teacher very good and considerate
to the students. The 'easiness' tempted me and one day I sat in the
Persian class. The Samskrit teacher was grieved. He called me to his
side and said: 'How can you forget that you are the son of a Vaishnava
father? Won't you learn the language of your own religion? If you have
any difficulty, why not come to me? I want to teach you students
Samskrit to the best of my ability. As you proceed further, you will
find in it things of absorbing interest. You should not lose heart. Come
and sit again in the Samskrit class.'
This kindness put me to shame. I could not disregard my teacher's affection. Today I
cannot but think with gratitude of Krishnashankar Pandya. For if I had
not acquired the little Samskrit that I learnt then, I should have found
it difficult to take any interest in our sacred books. In fact I deeply
regret that I was not able to acquire a more thorough knowledge of the
language, because I have since realized that every Hindu boy and girl
should possess sound Samskrit learning.
It is now my opinion that in all Indian curricula of higher education there should be
a place for Hindi, Samskrit, Persian, Arabic and English, besides of
course the vernacular. This big list need not frighten anyone. If our
education were more systematic, and the boys free from the burden of
having to learn their subjects through a foreign medium, I am sure
learning all these languages would not be an irksome task, but a perfect
pleasure. A scientific knowledge of one language makes a knowledge of
other languages comparatively easy.
In reality, Hindi, Gujarati and Samskrit may be regarded as one language, and
Persian and Arabic also as one. Though Persian belongs to the Aryan, and
Arabic to the Semitic family of languages, there is a close relationship
between Persian and Arabic, because both claim their full growth through
the rise of Islam. Urdu I have not regarded as a distinct language,
because it has adopted the Hindi grammar and its vocabulary is mainly
Persian and Arabic, and he who would learn good Urdu must learn Persian
and Arabic, as one who would learn good Gujarati, Hindi, Bengali, or
Marathi must learn Samskrit.