I had started on a life of ease and comfort, but the experiment was
short-lived. Although I had furnished the house with care, yet it
failed to have any hold on me. So no sooner had I launched forth on
that life, than I began to cut down expenses. The washerman's bill
was heavy, and as he was besides by no means noted for his
punctuality, even two to three dozen shirts and collars proved
insufficient for me. Collars had to be changed daily and shirts, if
not daily, at least every alternate day. This meant a double
expense, which appeared to me unnecessary. So I equipped myself with
a washing outfit to save it. I bought a book on washing, studied the
art and taught it also to my wife. This no doubt added to my work,
but its novelty made it a pleasure.
I shall never forget the first collar that I washed myself. I had
used more starch than necessary, the iron had not been made hot
enough, and for fear of burning the collar I had not pressed it
sufficiently. The result was that, though the collar was fairly
stiff, the superfluous starch continually dropped off it. I went to
court with the collar on, thus inviting the ridicule of brother
barristers, but even in those days I could be impervious to
ridicule.
'Well,' said I, 'this is my first experiment at washing my own
collars and hence the loose starch. But it does not trouble me, and
then there is the advantage of providing you with so much fun.'
'But surely there is no lack of laundries here?' asked a friend.
'The laundry bill is very heavy,' said I. 'The charge for washing a
collar is almost as much as its price, and even then there is the
eternal dependence on the washerman. I prefer by far to wash my things myself.'
But I could not make my friends appreciate the beauty of self-help.
In course of time I became an expert washerman so far as my own work went, and my washing was by no means
inferior to laundry washing. My collars were no less stiff or shiny
than others.
When Gokhale came to South Africa, he had with him a scarf which was
a gift from Mahadeo Govind Ranade. He treasured the memento with the
utmost care and used it only on special occasions. One such occasion
was the banquet given in his honour by the Johannesburg Indians. The
scarf was creased and needed ironing. It was not possible to send it
to the laundry and get it back in time. I offered to try my art.
'I can trust to your capacity as a lawyer, but not as a washerman,'
said Gokhale; 'What if you should soil it? Do you know what it means
to me?'
With this he narrated, with much joy, the story of the gift. I still
insisted, guaranteed good work, got his permission to iron it, and
won his certificate. After that I did not mind if the rest of the
world refused me its certificate.
In the same way, as I freed myself from slavery to the washerman, I
threw off dependence on the barber. All people who go to England
learn there at least the art of shaving, but none, to my knowledge,
learn to cut their own hair. I had to learn that too. I once went to
an English hair-cutter in Pretoria. He contemptuously refused to cut
my hair. I certainly felt hurt, but immediately purchased a pair of
clippers and cut my hair before the mirror. I succeeded more or less
in cutting the front hair, but I spoiled the back. The friends in
the court shook with laughter.
'What's wrong with your hair, Gandhi? Rats have been at it?'
'No.
The white barber would not condescend to touch my black hair,' said
I, 'so I preferred to cut it myself, no matter how badly.'
The reply did not surprise the friends.
The barber was not at fault in having refused to cut my hair. There
was every chance of his losing his custom, if he should serve black
men. We do not allow our barbers to serve our untouchable brethren.
I got the reward of this in South Africa, not once, but many times,
and the conviction that it was the punishment for our own sins saved
me from becoming angry.
The extreme forms in which my passion for self-help and simplicity
ultimately expressed itself will be described in their proper place.
The seed had been long sown. It only needed watering to take root,
to flower and to fructify, and the watering came in due course.