Chachaji

Life is on trial or we are on trial for life. Perhaps both. “Drama of Life — Lila.”

Now, I was hospitalised for about a month, and sickness is always self-invited. The name of the hospital is the All India Institute of Medical Sciences. It is a big name in India where dignitaries and V.I.Ps of India and adjoing countries are admitted for serious ailments. And in my adjacent room was Shri V.V. Giri, our Honourable ex-President of India.

For two or three years every friend and doctor had been telling me that the enlargement of the prostate was a natural disease which comes to most men after about seventy years of age. Why should it come? There is no commonsense in it. But it had been there; developing and becoming a nuisance.

I was forced to consult the experts and they suggested immediate operation. But I had been avoiding it.

I am narrating this story to alert the prisoners of the body. In the beginning of May 1977, I was asked to get myself operated at the earliest. But I slipped away to Nainital where I was in sadhana for about three months. There suddenly the trouble seriously aggravated. But still I resisted.

My well-wishers, my daughter Tara with an escort, brought me down by force, only the handcuffs were not used! I was immediately admitted to the hospital.

It was a Saturday; I asked the doctor that since no tests were to be taken that day and the next, why should I not be allowed to go to the Ashram and return on Monday? Doctor was furious, “You are not allowed to leave the hospital now.”

On Monday and Tuesday I continued arguing with the doctors, making one excuse or the other and finally escaped from the hospital as I was fearing operation in the air-conditioned operation theatre which did not suit my constitution. I explained and promised that I will come back to have the operation in November 1977.

The next morning, the 13th of August, was my birthday. I heard whispers going on about my birthday celebrations, feasts and presents. I was surprisingly shocked because such behaviour was being exhibited for the first time.

I got up at 4 o’clock and was preparing for a bath; suddenly one Karunamayee dropped in. I looked at her furiously. Looking at my expression she could not have the courage to wish me ‘happy birthday’; just did pranam and went away.

In the meantime I was ready with my handbag but as all the gates of the campus were locked I had to jump over the boundary-wall, took a taxi and reached the aerodrome, caught the plane and reached Madras.

When nobody could find me anywhere in the Delhi Ashram, everyone was disturbed and the hunt started.

Enquiries at the nearby taxi-stand revealed that one Sardarji had taken me and left me a little while ago at the airport.

The aerodrome authorities were interrogated on telephone and it was revealed that my name was on the list aboard and I had been flown to Madras.

Friends at Madras were alerted and requested on phone to receive me at the airport. They did not know me but somehow established that I was the culprit. To my utter surprise I was profusely garlanded. The first such experience in my life!

In accordance with the long-drawn-out conspiracy, my youngest son Victor came to receive me. This conspiracy was hatched several months before. I was taken to the agricultural farm of my daughter Chitra, which was about six miles from Sri Aurobindo Ashram, Pondicherry, and was lodged there.

In the meantime my family in Pondicherry was also alerted and my family members were awaiting me. The surprise-shock failed.

All the members of my family dashed to the farm, virtually lifted me up and forcibly put me in the jeep and brought me to the Ashram. The fun was over and I stayed in the Ashram at Pondicherry for about three weeks.

Then I received a lightning call and rushed to Delhi where my esteemed friend Mahashaya Krishna Chandra was on his death-bed. I went straight to his room, and with tears in his eyes he got up and embraced me saying, “I was only waiting for you”. And the next day he passed away.

Now it was the month of September. I foolishly failed to report myself at the hospital in the month of November; I was still trying to avoid the operation.

On the 13th of December 1977 the trouble aggravated and took a serious turn. But the doctor concerned was not available as he was away on his vacation and was to come only on the 1st of January 1978.

Accordingly I got myself admitted in the hospital on the 1st of January 1978. The operation was fixed for the 4th. For two or three days I was subjected to all sorts of tests, preparatory to the operation.

On the morning of the 4th I was clad for the operation and taken to the operation theatre. Just before entering the operation theatre a sudden call came that I should be taken back as the operation was postponed. I was informed that the doctor was not satisfied with the investigations and tests. Divine gesture!

Now in these seven days I was kept under close observation, with a number of investigations. Everyday I was subjected to so many different sorts of tests and examinations; cardiogram, heart, lungs, urine, kidney and blood tests of a dozen types, several urine tests etc. etc. Ultimately I was asked to get an I.V.P. test (special X-Ray) — eleven photographs from some outside private agency where I had to suffer severe hardship on the X-Ray table for three to four hours.

Finally the operation was fixed for the 11th, and I was the first on the list. A day prior to the operation a contingent of doctors came to my room and informed me of all that in a most encouraging way and in a manner full of humour and cheer.

They told me, “We are all experts in different fields of medicine; heart, kidney, blood-pressure, lungs, anaesthesia, intestines, neurology etc., and will be attending on you in the operation theatre. We will also have a class of students with us.”

I said, “So the operation theatre will be full and you will have no space for me there.” They all laughed and said, “Your special seat for lying down on a palatial table is reserved.”

The Grace of the Divine in all respects was so evident at every moment. I do not know the reason for all that care, love and consideration. The chief doctor would come everyday twice to assure me that they were taking every possible care and they were anxious and particular to take no risk of any nature. On Sunday the Chief Surgeon — Professor Surendra Man Singh, came to my room and said, “I have specially come to see you even on Sunday just to give you some instructions and also to tell you that you should not worry at all and feel absolutely carefree in our hands.”

Again I do not know why my son Anil was so particular to give me the best comforts and protection. He decided to appoint two special nurses, one for the day and another for the night, after the operation. But what a miracle! Just at the proper time my dear daughter Chitra dropped in from Sri Aurobindo Ashram, Pondicherry, to capture the posts of both the nurses, without any previous information. When she was in the lift and in the corridor leading to my room, I told Karuna who was attending upon me that Chitra is coming and lo! She was in!

Two days after her arrival the doctors came and asked for the name of the person who would offer to give blood in the Blood Bank for me. Spontaneously Chitra said, “Put my name. I have come here for that purpose.” And she went down and donated her blood amongst scores of persons who were virtually crying and fearing to donate blood for their sick relations. Chitra set an example of boldness which helped others also to be free from fear and give their blood.

It was Wednesday the 11th, that I was put on the table in the operation theatre, and just in a minute I was completely unconscious and I do not have the slightest impression of the operation till the time I was shaken and several doctors simultaneously shouted, “Jauhar Sahib, get up! The operation is over”; and I was brought into the post-operative ward.

I never felt the slightest pain, discomfort or trouble in respect of the operation. Perhaps there has never been any such case and example of the operation. However, I developed a severe trouble of hiccup which persisted and tormented me for a long period.

On the 20th of January I virtually coerced the Surgeon — Professor Surendra Man Singh, to set me free and allow me to return to the Ashram. The Professor was very happy to show this consideration and gave me permission and I got back to the Ashram.

It is a story that shows how the Divine made me free from a severe ailment to give me an opportunity to enjoy and work for the Mother’s Centenary celebrations.