THROUGH INDIAN EYES
Indian Pilgrimage. By Ranjee G. Shahani. (Michael Joseph. 15s.) MR. EDWARD GARNETT told Dr. Shahani that " an ounce of truth is worth a gallon of gush." The latter has taken this saying to heart, and has written a true book about India, which is a brave thing for anyone to do, especially an Indian.
The whole truth can never be told about 330,000,000 people, but Dr. Shahani has made a courageous and typically Indian attempt to give us a picture of what he well calls the " bright chaos " of his country. Typically Indian, because it combines depth with humour, like the Fables of Pilpai, and because of its remorseless sincerity. Those who tell us that Indians are inclined to draw the long-bow make a superficially correct observation (as who should say " Englishmen are hypocrites "), but they rarely see the basic integrity of Indian ideas. Dr. Shahani is honest with himself, with us, and with the land of his birth. He is a sympathetic interpreter between England and India, and the fact that he is married to a French lady may have added limpidity to an already clear style.
His " home town," he tells us, ie Karachi, and his father, a prominent lawyer of that city, has properties in Sind which the author visited. One of the most striking chapters (" His Majesty the Tapedar ") describes how he was cheated on this farm by the grain merchant, by the family bailiff, and by a petty official in the irrigation department. Dr. Shahani makes no bones about the venality and cupidity of some of his countrymen : he tells us all kinds of amazing, horrifying and almost unbelievable stories, which would come ill, recorded by an English pen, but which it is right and proper that an Indian should describe, for they strengthen rather than diminish the picture as a whole . . . tout comprendre. . . .
The Sindhi, Bengali and Madrasi bourgeoisie the author knows well, and he gives a very vivid picture of his own family. Vivid, and almost savage, but any Englishman who would understand the East should ponder over these domestic details with the greatest care. The same is true of Dr. Shahani's observations on the Untouchables. Flippant at first sight, they contain a world of wisdom. He invited his sweeper to tea, and records that awkward interview, and the disgust—indeed, the hate—of his household, with enchanting fidelity.
Perhaps Dr. Shahani is too angular and quarrelsome to be the ideal guide to India ; and he does not know well the land of the five rivers from which (I take it) his own Aryan ancestors came. He should spend some time with an Indian regiment : that would correct his impression that most official Englishmen look down on " natives." Nevertheless, he is a refreshingly candid writer.
Mother India was a best-seller because it tickled the Anglo- Saxon appetite for moral indignation ; but here is an Indian, telling us, for instance, that the babies of working-women in a certain manufacturing town are all doped with opium so that they shall not cry. " That's how the future generation of Indians is being reared," said an Indian M.P. to the author. " The youngsters will grow up to be a burden to themselves and to the country. I have raised the question in the Assembly, but there are always more important things to be discussed."
More important things! Dr. Shahani does not cross the t's of his indictment. Nevertheless it would be wrong to repre- sent Indian Pilgrimage as an accusation—however subtle— of the Indian people. The people—the peasants especi- ally—stand out by contrast to the avarice of the merchants, the love of display of the middle-classes, and the crookedness of the politicians : stand out simple and sane and fundamentally good. Many of the author's scenes remain etched in the memory : his grandmother's visit to beg for a big allowance : the idiot with the head like a potato 1,'" they put the head in an iron cup as soon as the child is born, so it doesn't grow . . . it's a trick to wheedle money out of the people "): the inter- view with Pandit Nehru : his sister's views on hockey and the talkies : a poor mother giving her dead child to the Jumna. . . . This last only those who have seen the same thing happen, at the same place, will accept as a faithful record of things seen.
There is one curious contradiction. On page 32 the author quotes the authority of the Bhagavad Gita for saying that " there is, sometimes, no alternative to force." But on page 296 he says that " even Krishna, in the Bhagavad Gita, writes like a showman. He advises bad means to justify good ends. He upholds war on the ground that the men to be killed are already dead in the mind of God. Arjuna is merely a Divine instrument. Such reasoning is the delirium of silliness. But Indians, I say, are addicted to it." . . . So was Cromwell, and silly he was not.
English officials in India could profit enormously by this work : the Pilgrimage might be a way of revelation. So might it be for those legislators who voted the Indian Act of 1935, and who now look forward to a time when the free vote of a free people will work the magic they have been assured is inherent in democracy. It is not right to be cynical about our dealings with India, however. We have given her what we could : our language and institutions, law and order, roads and railways. Our shortcomings have been many, but our achieve- ments have also been many. Dr. Shahani does justice to both. His is a pioneer attempt to interpret modern India by a modern Indian. (Pandit Nahru's autobiography was a bril- liant piece of special pleading.) ... There is hardly a dull page, and if there are some false judgements (pages 125 to 14o, for instance) they do not alter the fact that this is a revealing, informative, and thoroughly honest book.
F. YEATS-BROWN.
Previous page
