True to his word, on their return, he took care of her conjunctivitis, and she was soon cured. The Savarkar household, bereft of a woman for long, got in Yashoda a loving girl, who stepped up to be a mother to her two younger brothers-in-law. As per Hindu tradition, her maiden name too was changed after marriage to Saraswati, but the name Yesu Vahini (sister-in-law), as Vinayak and Bal called her, stuck with her for the rest of her life. She was the affectionate confidante that Vinayak had always craved. He taught her to read and write and shared his writings and poems with her. In return, Yesu taught him melodious Marathi songs from her vast repertoire, particularly the Marathi Gajagauri songs dedicated to the Mother Goddess.
Shortly after the wedding, Babarao completed his Marathi education in Bhagur, and Damodarpant decided to send him to Nashik to pursue higher education in English. Babarao was always a spiritually inclined young man. In Nashik, he came under the influence of a mendicant, Balabua, from whom he learnt several techniques of yoga and meditation. He began following austerities like surviving on merely ghee and water for an entire month and remaining awake for long hours in the night. It is said that he spent almost fourteen to fifteen hours daily on his yogic and spiritual pursuits. Unlike his younger brother Vinayak, the political upheavals in the country hardly mattered to Babarao and they even failed to impact his mind. For someone so aloof from political matters, it was quite a transition when he jumped into the revolutionary fray many years later, after being inspired by Vinayak.
Around this time, communal riots rocked different parts of the Bombay Presidency. The Ganapati festivals and the subsequent processions often invited Muslim ire and led to conflicts. The Muslims quoted their theological texts that prescribed offering their prayers in silence—something that the processional music of the Hindus allegedly disturbed. Trying to deduce which community began a riot was a classic chicken-and-egg problem. On 6 February 1894, in Yeola, a small weaving centre in the Nashik district, a conflict erupted over a report that a pig’s head had been thrown into a local mosque. On receiving the news, the mamlatdar went to the mosque and found ‘two portions of a dead pig, cut in half, lying in the mosque and its enclosure’. 2 He urged the crowd that had gathered ‘not to attempt any reprisals’. 3 But soon after, news arrived that ‘the Musalmans had retaliated by slaughtering a cow in the Hindu temple’. 4 This led to further rioting and military assistance was sent for. Later in the day, the mamlatdar heard that ‘the Hindus were making arrangements to burn the Juma mosque’. 5 Even as police protection could be arranged, news came in that Muslims ‘had set fire to the Muralidhar temple’. 6 Elsewhere, other mosques and temples were damaged or destroyed. Four people were killed. 7
Government officials attributed this spurt in violence to the cow protection movement that had gained ground. It was one of the central tenets of the Arya Samaj founded by Hindu reformer Swami Dayanand Saraswati. Cow protection societies existed in Punjab since 1882. In Bombay, it was around 1887 that the Society for the Preservation of Horned Cattle was formed with modest goals such as construction of gau shala s or cow refuge homes. However, by the 1890s, cow protection societies had spread across a number of Deccan towns including Ahmednagar, Belgaum, Dharwar, Poona, Satara, Nashik and Yeola.
The other reason for the outbreak of clashes between the two communities was the vexed one of Hindu processional music being played in front of mosques. With music being considered taboo in Islam, the Muslim clerics detested the processions that played loud music passing by their places of worship, while the Hindus contested it saying they were using a public space where no one could dictate their actions. As early as 1859, a Bombay Sadr Faujdari Adalat (court) had ruled that music in temples that formed part of religious worship must be respected. However, processional street music, which was not necessarily part of core Hindu religious ritual, should be conceded only when it did not interfere with the liberty of others. Thus:
The right of praying in their mosque must be secured to the Muhammadans so long as their prayers are not a nuisance to others, and the Hindus may be allowed to accompany their processions with music so long as their music is not a nuisance to others; but whenever it becomes a nuisance, it ought, the Judges think, to be prohibited. 8
In the Kesari , Tilak denounced the government for what he alleged as appeasement of the Muslim sentiments when it came to cow slaughter and which had led to these riots all over the Presidency. 9 The processional music issue too bothered him and he decided to retaliate by making the Ganapati festivals grander and more ostentatious than before. The processions were marked by loud shouts of call to arms for the Hindus and to rebel as Shivaji did to overthrow alien power. The festival was organized as a mela movement. A mela consisted of a group of young men or students, dressed in special costumes, armed with sticks, who practised singing, dancing, drilling and fencing. Each mela was attached to a particular Ganapati celebration and would go around the town and the countryside before and during the ten days of the festival. They performed popular verses and songs in which references to current political events were inserted. It is these songs that Muslims objected to and that led to a communally precarious situation.
Vinayak and his friends were absorbing from the Kesari , Pune Vaibhav and other newspapers the stories of these bloody riots and the polarized tinderbox that Maharashtra had become. Each time they heard of the attack on Hindus, they would be enraged and wondered why Hindus could not organize themselves and retaliate instead of suffering repression. To avenge the riots, Vinayak and his friends planned a secret attack on a mosque in Bhagur that had been left unused for decades. By dusk, the team of boys armed with their little weapons attacked the mosque, broke down parts of it and made a quick escape. When the news reached their Muslim classmates, they were incensed and there was a showdown at school. The ‘Hindu side’ led by Vinayak and armed with their ‘weapons’ managed to trounce the opponents. A truce was thereafter called for, as per which both sides agreed not to bring this to the notice of any teacher. However, a few Muslim boys were seething with rage and sought revenge by vowing to put meat into the Brahmin boy’s mouth. 10
While these incidents could be dismissed as childish squabbles, Vinayak acknowledges in his memoirs that these experiences taught him how poorly organized and disunited the Hindu community was and how easy it was to subjugate them. 11 The Hindus were perpetually divided among themselves along several fault lines, especially caste, and this made them doubly vulnerable to attacks. They were full of self-doubt and suspicion about the other, and seldom committed to the ‘cause’. Vinayak decided to establish a ‘military training school’ of sorts to instil a sense of discipline, rigour and commitment among his group.
The boys divided themselves into groups—some of them played the role of Hindus, while others were either Muslims or the British. Neem seeds were used as mock bullets. Those who were unafraid of the attack of the neem seeds and managed to grab the saffron Hindu flag or bhagwa from the middle of the field while also stealing the opponent’s arms was declared the winner. Almost always it was Vinayak who headed the Hindu side and steered them to victory. If ever the Muslim or British side seemed to win, he would diplomatically urge them (after all they were only play-acting) to accept defeat for the larger ‘national interest’. After all, in their skit, the Hindus could never lose. The boys would sing victory songs and parade all through Bhagur after these games. Babarao was good at archery and Vinayak began to learn this art from him. Damodarpant had a sword and a gun at home that Vinayak would keep looking at with awe, touching and feeling these, and trying to learn to use these as well.
A historically conscious Vinayak was thrilled to read about a new initiative that his hero, Tilak, had started in 1896. On 15 April 1896, on the same lines as the Ganapati festival, Tilak inaugurated the Shivaji festival at Raigarh in Poona. The objective was to raise funds to maintain Shivaji’s tomb in Raigarh and to instil a sense of nationalism drawn from their past in Maharashtrians. The festival was held annually on the
anniversary of Shivaji’s coronation—a momentous occasion that had led to the foundation of the glorious Maratha Empire. Ballads, or powadas, were composed in praise of Shivaji and his inspirational guru, Ramdas; athletic competitions were held; kirtans and plays performed, and lectures given on Maratha history. Tilak’s detailed programme published in the Kesari of 3 March 1896 for a ‘proper celebration’ at the festival at Raigarh on 15 April that year was certainly an attempt to regulate spontaneous celebrations and harness them for the nationalist cause:
The images of Shivaji and Ramdas will figure most prominently in the celebration . . . during the three days that it will last, lectures, sermons, dramatic representation (not of the sensual or obscene type), singing of historical ballads . . . will form the chief items on the programme . . . Things produced or manufactured in foreign countries, such as petroleum, candles, glassware . . . will be strictly eschewed at the celebration and only home-made articles will be brought . . . even at the possible sacrifice of some aesthetic attraction. Readings of the Dasbodh and Shivavijaya will be given during the three days . . . A specially composed ode in honour of Shivaji will be sung on the last day with Shivaji’s standard floating overhead. The mankaris, staff and volunteers will remain standing while the ode is being sung and will greet its close with shouts of Har Har Mahadev! The singing of the ode will be the most important function in the whole celebration. 12
The Marathi paper Sudharak— edited by Tilak’s ideological opponent and long-time rival, Gopal Ganesh Agarkar, till his death in 1895, and thereafter by Sitarampant Deodhar—was foremost in opposing this use of Shivaji as a symbol for nationalist purposes. It insisted that his appeal was extremely localized to Maharashtra and that the symbol of a monarch who could not unite the country against foreign rule was inappropriate, especially at a time when national unity was crucial. On 29 May 1899, the Sudharak asked: ‘Under what obligations are the Muhammadans or the Bengalees or the Rajputs to remember Shivaji? It is . . . clear that the festival has in it nothing that can make it national even among the Hindus.’ 13 Moderate newspapers that cautiously supported Tilak’s programme also commented on its special regional appeal. For example, on 25 April 1898, the Indu Prakash opined:
Wherever there is Hinduism, Shivaji’s name will be reverenced and we should not wonder if we hear of Shivaji’s birthday celebrations in Madras next year. He is essentially a national hero for all Hindus, and the Marathas may well rejoice that he was born among them. It is but natural that among the Marathas more than ordinary enthusiasm should be evoked by these celebrations . . . 14
Tilak himself was aware of stretching this too much. In the Kesari of 9 April 1901, he painstakingly argued:
It does not matter if in different parts of India such celebrations are held in honour of different national heroes. Although the main object is to unite the whole of India as one nation, it cannot be denied that the whole Indian nation is made up of different smaller nations and that the solidarity of different parts taken by themselves is indispensable for, and by no means inconsistent with the general unity of the nation. 15
Building on the success of both these festivals, in the same year, Tilak managed to gain control over the Sarvajanik Sabha and outsmart his long-time rivals Ranade and Gokhale, who resigned in disgust and wrote disparagingly about Tilak and his actions. But Tilak’s success was short-lived. The excessive involvement of the Sarvajanik Sabha under Tilak during the famine that gripped the Deccan in 1897 and their incitement to farmers to not pay taxes angered the government. They derecognized the Sabha as a body that had any claim to address the government on matters related to public policy. Tilak’s influence got neutralized even before it could create much impact.
Deeply inspired by Tilak, Vinayak and his friends too organized the first Shivaji Jayanti festival in Bhagur at the house of Marwari Seth Balmukund Maniram. Vinayak’s brilliant keynote speech left everyone, including Damodarpant, spellbound.
After Vinayak completed his primary school, Damodarpant insisted that he join Babarao in Nashik to pursue his education at the prestigious Shivaji School. Accordingly, the thirteen-year-old Vinayak left his hometown for the first time in pursuit of education and excellence. The two brothers stayed in a modest accommodation near the Kanadya Maruti Temple in Nashik. They cooked their own food as eating out meant losing one’s caste for a chaste Brahmin. But Vinayak firmly refuted such beliefs and gorged on the delicious jalebis at the Gangaram Hotel in the city.
Every fortnight, Damodarpant would come to Nashik to visit his sons. Being very attached to his father, Vinayak would eagerly wait for his arrival and become sad on the day he was scheduled to depart. His homesickness was further accentuated by the kind of classmates he had. Hardly anyone shared the kind of zeal for academics, current affairs or politics, squandering their time in mindless pursuits.
It is worth mentioning that Vinayak was the favourite student of all his teachers at school. Given his exceptional intelligence, sense of discipline and his poetry and writing skills, he emerged as the apple of their eyes. In fact, one of his teachers inspired Vinayak to send his article to the Nashik Vaibhav newspaper. After much scepticism, he wrote a piece on Hindu culture and its glory. The editor of the newspaper was surprised at the content, style and flow of the article and found it hard to believe that the author was a schoolboy. The essay was published in two parts and was widely appreciated all over Nashik.
The Lok Seva was another important newspaper in Nashik. Its editor and owner was the renowned theatre artist Anant Waman Barve. The newspaper was a veritable mouthpiece for Tilak’s work and carried several patriotic essays and articles about Tilak’s Ganapati and Shivaji festivals. Barve used to sing melodious patriotic songs in programmes and festivals that were regularly organized on the banks of the Godavari in Nashik. While most of his schoolmates would be gallivanting aimlessly by the riverbanks, Vinayak was an uninvited but regular attendee of all these events and nationalistic gatherings by the Godavari. Here, he heard some stirring speeches and melodious songs and constantly internalized all that he was hearing. His teachers introduced Vinayak to Barve as a poet and writer and this enabled easier access to future events. Barve also implored Vinayak to participate in the annual debate competition in Nashik. Although he was well past the application deadline, on Barve’s insistence Vinayak was given admission to the contest, which was merely three days thence. The topic was the same for all students and Vinayak was the last speaker as he had enrolled so late. Since most of what had to be said would have already been conveyed by earlier speakers, by the time the last speaker came to the podium audiences would normally get bored and leave. But Vinayak’s speech captivated them from the very beginning and they stayed rooted. The judges were quick in making their decision and Vinayak was unanimously declared the winner. The judges were however sceptical about the originality of Vinayak’s speech as they found it difficult to believe that a fourteen-year-old boy could write or conceive of subjects and topics in this mature manner. It was left to Barve and Vinayak’s teachers to adjudicate that the young lad was indeed a fine writer and a thinker. This was Vinayak’s first attempt at public speaking and he had effortlessly won his maiden attempt. People of Nashik began to talk about this talented young man with fiery oratorial skills.
Encouraged by this success, Vinayak began reading several Marathi books on public speaking to hone his innate skills. The various elements of constructing an argument, consolidating and concluding them, voice modulation, body language, intonation, command over language and such aspects of public speaking fascinated Vinayak. He worked hard on these skills to later become a master orator, someone who could mesmerize large crowds.
During these formative years, all the reading and reflecting made Vinayak question several beliefs and rituals that were blindly followed at that time. In fact, he had frequent arguments with Babarao on such matters. It was from this fire of doubt and agnosticism that his interest in philosophy and religion sprang. He began making critical ev
aluations of the scriptures and the Vedanta and engaged in debates and discussions with those stuck in rituals of religion, superstitions and a strong belief in either theism or atheism. Babarao’s spiritual quests took him to all kinds of god-men and saints, many of whom were quacks and would end up exploiting his naivety. Once in Nashik, Babarao took Vinayak to a sadhu staying in Panchavati’s Rama Dharamshala. He was told that the sadhu was a reincarnation of Saint Ramdas who had guided Shivaji in his conquest against the Mughals; that he had a vision of Vinayak’s future and was keen on meeting him. When Vinayak saw the sadhu, he told him that the only earnest desire in his life was to overthrow the British Empire through armed rebellion. The sadhu admonished him and asked him to abandon these silly and demoniac goals and become his disciple instead and serve him with devotion so that he could have a vision of God. Nothing happens without God’s will, and the British Empire too was God’s wish for India and Indians, and it is only when the Almighty desires that India might dream of liberation, he contended.
The illogical argument enraged Vinayak and he entered into a long altercation with the sadhu. How can a kingdom of thieves and dacoits be God’s wish?, he argued. And if it truly is, how does envisioning an overthrow of such a despotic regime make one demoniac? Isn’t the mobilization and the germination of the very thought of ending the rule also God’s handiwork? Finally, Babarao had to intervene and drag his irate brother home. Thus, right from his youth, rationality and logical arguments marked every aspect of Vinayak’s personality. He questioned even men of religion and beliefs that were considered sacrosanct.
Meanwhile, in 1896–97 the most fatal pandemic of plague struck India and particularly Maharashtra. The British authorities had no real idea of the causes or cure of the disease. Beneath the outwardly appearance of confidence was a great sense of alarm. Special Plague Officer Walter Charles Rand and Surgeon Captain W.W. Beveridge were dispatched to Poona in February 1897 as part of a Special Plague Committee (SPC) to contain the disease by any means. The governor of Bombay, Lord Sandhurst, through his private secretary, J.J. Heaton, insisted that in Poona ‘the plan of using soldiers by themselves must definitely be abandoned. No search party should be without a respectable native . . . The most careful, thorough and earnest attempt must be made to work with and not against the people . . . In the existing Municipal institutions and ward committees you have some kind of organization.’ 16
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