मेरा आजीवन कारावास / माझी जन्मठेप (स्वातंत्र्यवीर सावरकर - काले पानी का ऐतिहासिक संस्मरण)

round. As others ran, these two had either to run with them or to be dragged along the ground behind them. One of them preferred the latter course. He lay flat on the ground, and as his hands were tied to the handle, he was pulled along the ground with the body bruised, broken and lacerated. In a moment the news had reached all the wings of the prison. It was the time of our morning meal, and it was also the hour of our taking counsels together. I sent round word to ascertain if the news that had come to us was a fact. When matters had reached this point, the jailor arrived on the scene. And he saw each one of us standing beside his door, thali in hand, and refusing to take his food till the matter was finally decided. This was the first experience of the new jailor, but he realised at once with whom he had to deal. First, he denied point-blank that the prisoner was the Kolu. The boldest and the strongest of the Punjabi prisoners who had taken the lead in the last strike, came forward to contradict the jailor. "Was the Gujarati prisoner lying then?" he asked the jailor. He lifted up the iron plate like a mace and threatened that he would break the head of him who had lied. Let him beware who dares this outrage against us, he added. The jailor went back without uttering a word. He ordered the release of the prisoners and sent us a message to take our food. He promised that no further trouble would follow. A few days after, the two prisoners were put on picking oakum. And the threatened strike came to an end. It was during the regime of this jailor, if I remember rightly, that a prisoner was thrashed in spite of the prison-regulation that had stopped such beating. The victim was an ordinary prisoner who heartily took part in all our public activities and always gave all the help he could to political prisoners. I have referred to this young man in my account of the Shuddhi movement in an earlier chapter. The officer had always an eye on such persons. The young man was an earnest man and fond of study. He was found reading, taken to the office and was severely rated by our new jailor. In the prison jargon the epithet that the jailor used was as common as an article in English before a common noun. But eight years had seen a vast change in the mentality of the prisoners. What they would have tolerated before as a matter of course, they would not put up with now. The jailor abused the prisoner and the prisoner returned the compliment with equal vehemence. The jailor was in a rage, he had the prisoner pinioned by two of his warders and had him beaten with fisticuffs on the chest, Blow after blow was rained upon his mouth and chest. The prisoner's face got swollen and blood came from his mouth. He was then let off. The prisoner was suffering from scrofula, it has to be mentioned here. The jailor was pleased that he had his full vengeance upon the prisoner. Other ordinary prisoners advised the young man to take it all patiently. They said to him, "We are ordinary prisoners. We cannot fight the jailor as political prisoners do. Go quickly to the doctor, tell him that you had a fall and get your wound treated by him. Or else you will be beaten again. We are such insignificant fellows— a common fry after all." But the young man was no chicken-hearted fellow. He had a black eye and his face was all swollen. He told the doctor that the jailor had beaten him. The doctor, for fear of the jailor, would not entertain the complaint, and the jailor would not allow the prisoner to see the Superintendent. One of us resolved thereupon to' bring the thing into light. The Chief Commissioner was to visit the prison the same week, and the jailor was in a fright. He begged that the matter should end there. But the young man told the whole incident to the Commissioner without fear or favour. The jailor was sternly rebuked for his conduct, and