Abhyasadashana Ketlak Smarano

This text, "Abhyasadashana Ketlak Smarano" (Certain Memories of the Study Period) by Sukhlal Sanghavi, is a deeply personal and introspective account of the author's journey to acquire knowledge, particularly in Sanskrit, and his experiences within the traditional Indian educational system. The narrative spans his youth and early adulthood, highlighting his relentless intellectual curiosity and the obstacles he faced.

Here's a comprehensive summary:

Early Struggles and the Spark of Curiosity: The author begins by recounting a period at the age of sixteen when his physical freedom was curtailed, possibly due to illness or a similar restrictive condition. He felt lost and lacked a proper guide. He emphasizes the profound value of a true friend, realizing that life's "heaven" is found in such companionship, especially after facing difficulties and lacking advice. His primary desire was to gain knowledge, and the inability to access it was a constant source of frustration.

Introduction to Jain Practices and the "Sadhana Stavan": During a monsoon season, a new Jain religious place was established in his small village. This led to his initial involvement in ritualistic practices. Even in his early years, he held a deep reverence for Jain monks, seeking to listen to them and follow their teachings, including abstaining from certain foods and practices like bathing, which were common in the ascetic life. While these practices provided a routine, he felt an underlying dissatisfaction, a feeling that his mind yearned for something more profound. He observed the devotion of elders and youngsters participating in devotional songs and readings, known as "Sadhana Stavan" in Jain terminology. This drew his attention towards the devotional literature and the contemplation of its meaning, which began to satisfy his initial intellectual hunger.

A Melting Pot of Intellectual Exploration: His village was a nexus for various religious and philosophical traditions. Jain monks and nuns frequently visited, as did ascetics from other sects like Charans, Bhats, and Bavas. The Swami Narayan temple also had resident Brahmacharis. Even the few remaining traditional Brahmins were accessible. Possessed by a strong thirst for knowledge, the author sought out everyone, asking questions, engaging in debates (sometimes with pride, sometimes with humility), and striving to learn anything new that presented itself. This intellectual exploration became his primary pursuit.

The Three Pillars of Early Study Material: He identifies three main categories of study materials available to him in his village:

1. A vast collection of Jain devotional songs in the Gujarati language.
2. Ancient books of Jain philosophy written in Gujarati.
3. Some old Jain Agamas in Prakrit and scattered Sanskrit verses.

The Allure of Sanskrit: Through these materials, he realized the crucial need to study Prakrit and Sanskrit. He understood that a complete grasp of Prakrit was impossible without Sanskrit, and the beauty of Sanskrit captivated him. Learning Sanskrit became an obsession, but the facilities were scarce. The Jain monks in his village rarely knew Sanskrit, and those who did were transient. The delay in fulfilling his growing curiosity amplified his restlessness. Even fragments of Sanskrit sentences or verses overheard became precious to him, which he absorbed with great enthusiasm, likening it to a hungry person eagerly consuming discarded remnants.

Resourcefulness and the First Guru: Despite lacking systematic study methods, he learned to make do with whatever he found. He recalls instances where a monk brought the "Raghuvamsha," and he memorized ten verses in seven days, even though neither he nor the monk truly understood Sanskrit. He then encountered an elderly monk, a Sthanakvasi who was visually impaired and a very ordinary Sanskrit scholar, but knowledgeable in the old ways of Jain Agamas. The author considered him a great scholar at the time and learned the five joints of grammar and genders from him. This gained him recognition as a scholar in the village, even from the Brahmins.

The Quest Continues and the Decision to Travel: The elderly monk didn't stay long, and his thirst for knowledge grew. He pondered where Sanskrit schools were located, how he could travel there, who would accompany him, assist with reading, and take care of his physical needs, or simply offer empathetic support. His family was loving but ignorant, wanting him to stay home. Despite their discouragement, his curiosity pushed him. He met another Jain monk and completed his study of grammar ("Saraswat"). He reflects on how current educational systems can stifle immense potential.

The Journey to Kashi: As his Sanskrit knowledge increased, he felt it was incomplete, with impure pronunciation, flawed understanding of meanings, and insufficient information. He felt the need to study vast texts and realized the need for proper guidance. He learned about a Jain monk who took students to Kashi to study Sanskrit. The praise he had heard about Kashi earlier resurfaced, and the prospect of a Sanskrit school opening in Surat also drew his attention. He corresponded with a friend, and in 1960, received a letter inviting him to Kashi. He then had to seek permission from his father and brother, stating that if they refused, something unfortunate would happen, implying his determination to go regardless.

The Difficulties of Travel and Arrival in Kashi: He set off for Kashi with a companion. The Jain Pathashala's office was in Viramgam. The secretary of the Pathashala, concerned about his dependent state and ability to manage in Kashi, tried to prevent him from going. However, this delay was short-lived. During the train journey, he faced significant difficulties due to the lack of sanitary facilities, unable to relieve himself out of fear and shyness. A compassionate Vaishnav station master in Marwar helped them find a better train. He observed that the main activities on the train were eating, counting stations, and sleeping. Upon reaching Agra, known as a place of "cunning people," he became cautious. In Kashi, the narrow lanes presented a grim reality of stench, unpleasant languages, and uncomfortable living conditions, with narrow and dirty toilets. The Pathashala itself, dominated by Jain monks, seemed to have neglected hygiene. Despite these hardships, his sole hope was to learn Sanskrit in Kashi.

Kashi: A Center of Knowledge and Contrasts: Kashi is described not just as a pilgrimage site due to Vishwanath and the Ganges but as a sanctuary for ancient knowledge. It harbors not only vice and lawlessness but also various Indian arts and classical disciplines. While the breadth of knowledge might be limited in some areas, the depth is considerable. He notes that while the emphasis on examinations is increasing the breadth, it is decreasing the depth. The scholars were dedicated to their specific subjects, often ignorant of other fields. They were deeply devoted to their disciplines, often unaware of contemporary events. Many scholars were so engrossed in their studies that money couldn't lure them away from Kashi. They lived modestly but were content with the opportunity to teach and learn.

The Pandit System and its Limitations: In his time, proficient scholars in various subjects could be found for fifteen to thirty rupees a month. This situation has changed with colleges like Queen's College and later Hindu University, but Kashi remains relatively affordable for scholars. He observes that while scholars were devoted to their grammar, rhetoric, and philosophy, a lack of modern and nationalistic perspective limited their broader impact. He describes the Kashi scholar community as extremely narrow-minded and rigid. While they possessed great knowledge, their narrow vision hindered national progress.

The Jain Pathashala and the Intellectual Climate: The Jain Pathashala had two notable scholars. The author's primary teacher, a great grammarian, is still alive and teaching at Queen's College. While he once revered his scholarship, he now sees the scholar's indifference to readily available knowledge from surrounding fields. His definition of an old scholar was someone who ignored languages other than Sanskrit and traditions other than the Sanatan Dharma. The idea of scholars reading periodicals was novel then. He recalls an instance where his teacher asked, "Who is this Gokhale, that people greet him with garlands?" Scholars of Panini's grammar rarely touched other grammatical traditions, considering it beneath them. Sanatani scholars teaching Jain and Buddhist texts did so out of necessity, not intellectual curiosity or liberality. They would criticize those who taught other traditions, confining themselves to narrow intellectual domains. This made it difficult for non-Sanatani students to study. Many Jain, Arya Samaj, and Udasi sects lobbied for their traditions to be taught at Queen's College, but the college principal ruled that if scholars taught their own traditions, the government had no objection. The same scholars who avoided teaching non-Sanatanis in college would teach them privately for money in private schools.

The Influence of Dharma and Profit: The principles of dharma and profit worked in tandem. On one hand, they adhered to their established traditions, while on the other, they would authenticate any statement for money. Swami Narayan followers would go to Kashi to prove their Vedic origins. Kayasthas would offer food to Kashi scholars to prove their high caste. Jain monks sought degrees without studying, benefiting from Kashi scholars' financial motivations. All these endeavors succeeded due to the scholars' eagerness for financial gain. While the Jain Pathashala had appointed scholars, he faced obstacles when trying to study with higher-level scholars in the city. Those who previously expressed affection would avoid his requests to study with them, likely because he was not publicly identified as Brahmin. He acknowledges that there were exceptions to this narrow-mindedness, and their numbers have since increased.

Critique of the Kashi Educational System: The educational system in the old Kashi Pathashala was deeply flawed. This influence extended to the Jain Pathashala. Rote learning and verbatim memorization were paramount. Writing and understanding spoken language were neglected. Books were handed over without emphasis on thinking or practical application. If a student was curious and willing to put in the effort, it was fine; otherwise, there was no one to guide them, identify their mistakes, or help them manage their time. This disorganization led to the wastage of the immense potential of sharp students, and he was a victim of this to some extent. He estimates over ten thousand students were studying Sanskrit in Kashi, all with secure livelihoods. Hundreds of food distribution centers were supported by wealthy donors, scholars, and students. However, the lack of a unified system resulted in minimal returns. Many managers of these centers admitted ineligible students based on connections and misappropriated donations. Any opposition was met with fear and intimidation. When Malviyaji first proposed establishing the Hindu University, certain scholars believed he would abscond with the funds or keep them for himself. He suspects the fear instilled by Kashi's extremely narrow and gangster-like environment had some effect on Malviyaji's sensitive heart.

Life in the Jain Pathashala and a Shift in Perspective: The three years from 1960 to 1963 spent in the Pathashala were akin to a "barren women's quarters" for them. Despite the Ganges being nearby, they bathed in it only once. Other institutions and facilities were almost inaccessible. He didn't even see the famous Kashi "sawing" spot. He missed out on many historically significant and knowledge-enhancing places. The excuse given was, "Why exercise? Why waste time on it? The body is fleeting, why have so much attachment to it?" This was a consequence of the institution's management lacking foresight. The same flaws were present in other old institutions to varying degrees. Efforts by Sufis and continuous attempts by Arya Samaj members were beginning to break the rigid environment. He too was gradually breaking free from constraints. He found a friend, and together they rebelled against the old traditions. They parted ways with the institution's management and lived independently for seven years. During this time, he and his friend independently decided what, how, why, from whom, and where to study, based on their limited but self-determined vision. Upon leaving the institution, they had only one rupee. Six annas were spent on sending a telegram to the institution's secretary, leaving ten annas. He vividly remembers reaching a Jain temple near Sarnath, where Buddha first delivered his sermon, on the night of Vaishakh Shukla Tridashi. They were unaware of their destitution and overwhelmed with the joy of independent thought. They believed society's responsible individuals would help them, and if not, they would go to America to study, inspired by accounts of wealthy individuals like Rockefeller and the publications of Satyadev. However, supportive friends interested in knowledge provided assistance, and their independent era began in Kashi.

The Era of Self-Reliance: In this new era, they had to do everything themselves: buy food, find accommodation, arrange for cooking, search for scholars, study with them, read other books beyond their curriculum, and attend public lectures regardless of distance. Even in this independent period, they lacked a true guide, but their aspiration to learn deeply and seek truth led them to acquire some valuable knowledge. Initially, examinations were not their focus, but later, friends' encouragement pushed them in that direction. They discovered the limited dominion of scholars even in examinations. He felt that if the principal hadn't been English, a first-rank student might have been. After two years of experiencing scholars, the allure of examinations faded, and he resolved to never deviate from his path of dedicated study.

Critique of Kashi's Educational System (Continued): Swami Dayananda had strong criticisms of Kashi's educational system, which the author shares:

1. Neglect of Spoken Language: Scholars and students were indifferent to learning, speaking, and writing in the common vernacular, particularly Hindi.
2. National Indifference and Religious Intolerance: They were completely apathetic towards the nation and country and exhibited religious intolerance.
3. Carelessness in Pronunciation: He emphasizes the issue of pronunciation. Scholars, when asked about pronunciation in grammar, would list the flaws but demonstrate the same flaws in their own speech. Except for some scholars and students from Dakshinayan and other specific regions, pronunciation defects were so pervasive that they evoked pity. Even proficient students and scholars reading Hindi would make their Hindi reading so comical that listeners, if not fortified with the seriousness of texts like the Gita or Dhammapada, would inevitably laugh. He attributes this to his auditory learning process. He doesn't exaggerate this defect, noting that even English-educated individuals reading Gujarati often exhibit the same level of deficiency as the scholars reading Hindi. The general understanding of reading was merely to scan written or printed text. This defect is perpetuated in teacher training as well. The aesthetic beauty of letters, diminished by the printing press, is considered acceptable, but the beauty of pronunciation will never be forgiven until knowledge derived from phonetics replaces it.

Disagreements and Self-Discovery: After the decline of the Jain Pathashala's rigid system, they transitioned to a self-reliant and organized study approach. This awakened a critical perspective, allowing them to question their teachers and scholars rather than blindly accepting their pronouncements. This often led to conflicts with scholars, especially their academic mentors. Students were considered guilty if they expressed dissenting opinions, and the punishment was the cessation of teaching. However, when faced with the insistence of scholars to call day night, he found no option but to leave them. He believes he gained more than he lost by leaving many such scholars.

Kashi as a Hindu Center and Other Observations: Kashi, as the center of Sanatan Dharma, saw its followers make strenuous efforts to propagate their beliefs. However, due to the strong foundations of the Sanatan sect, their success was limited. The Arya Samaj's enthusiasm was often characterized by more speakers than listeners, excessively long programs (14 hours), and fierce debates. He developed a habit of attending these gatherings and listening patiently. Kashi also had a tradition of scholarly debates where stones and bricks were sometimes thrown, especially at public gatherings of the Arya Samaj. The scholarly discussions of Kashi scholars were unique: they would meet with a patron, and before distributing the honorarium, engage in debate. Often, great scholars would behave uncivilly among themselves and return home with negative feelings. Scholars who were respected by kings and rulers often lacked civility in debates with their disciples. This reminds him of Simhasuri's statement: "Two dogs fighting for a piece of meat might unite, but two debating brothers can never achieve friendship." It was often observed that when truly respected Kashi scholars gathered, salvaged knowledge would be beautifully unearthed. He met an old priest who spoke very clear and pure Sanskrit and refuted other religions in Sanskrit. His mission was to visit Pathashalas and scholars, deliver his arguments, and return. Hearing his Sanskrit inspired the author to learn to speak it perfectly. This resolution led him to take vows to speak Sanskrit for several days. During Shravan month, on Nag Panchami, students and scholars would gather at a designated place for open discussions and debates, all in Sanskrit. This practice might have been well-organized at one time. Kashi, also named Shivpuri, has numerous Shiv temples. Wherever there is Mahadev, there is Nandi and Bhaang. In Kashi, wherever you go, you encounter bulls, and their antics could cause trouble. Bhaang served the purpose of tea there. No one, be it student or scholar, Babu or porter, hesitated to consume Bhaang. Sometimes a scholar would say, "When I see texts after consuming Bhaang, Saraswati appears before me." He also saw some Shakta scholars who, despite being erudite, invariably consumed alcohol during worship.

Regional Scholarly Traits: Kashi had a diverse population similar to Mumbai. Visiting Bengali scholars always had the aroma of fish, even if they didn't smoke a hukka. Mitali scholars were undoubtedly involved with forbidden foods, but not with hukka. Southern scholars were free from these vices, and their homes and attire were superior to others. Scholars from Uttar Pradesh had no particular vices, but lacked the cleanliness of southerners. Gujarati and Marwari scholars were scarce, or hadn't made a significant mark. Just as Gujarati names were not prominent among national leaders until they became so, Gujaratis in Kashi could now take pride in being at the forefront due to people like Dhruv Saheb. Knowledge also seemed divided by region: Bengalis were largely logicians, Mithila scholars were also logicians, Dakshinayan scholars were Vedantists, and others were grammarians. There were exceptions to these general rules. Punjabi scholars were becoming more prominent. Udasis from Punjab were leading, with their own mathas and Pathashalas. Marwaris supported numerous scholars, Pathashalas, and saints, but few Marwari scholars were found there. Kashi scholars attracted Jains and Buddhists. Scholars from Khurmi and Sinhali (Sri Lanka) were also coming. Besides the beauty of knowledge, natural beauty was also present. The banks of the Ganges, the groves of trees, and the fertile land contributed to the atmosphere. He often joined friends by the Ganges, not just for knowledge but also for its beauty. He recalls being so engrossed that he could have reached the ocean if his friends hadn't intervened. His swimming ability was hampered by the Ganges' current. He became cautious thereafter.

Teaching vs. Learning and the Pride of Pedagogy: He had a greater inclination towards teaching than learning from the beginning. Jain students studied, as did some Brahmin students. However, Brahmin students discreetly came to study with Jains. He, too, often sat them at higher seats and taught them purely for the sake of increasing knowledge. He observed the pride of the guru status among the Brahmin community. Comparing the Kashi atmosphere before and after the Gandhi era, he noticed a significant shift. Now, many Sanatani Brahmins were not hesitant to touch untouchables, and their interactions with other high-caste individuals were almost the same. Yet, he felt that Kashi remained a stronghold of conservatism.

The Pursuit of Knowledge and its Consequences: He believed that knowledge was beneficial and should be consumed as much as possible. After leaving the Jain Pathashala, the days of falling ill due to ignorance were over. However, other health-related ignorance persisted, causing problems at every step. He underwent surgery but still had to walk three miles daily to study and often fell ill. This, coupled with his desire to study more intensive logic, made him want to leave Kashi. He chose Mithila for its strict adherence to tradition.

Life in Mithila and its Peculiarities: The villages of Mithila consisted of a few huts and thatched houses. The food consisted of rice, and the bedding was made of paddy husks. Mithila's contribution to him was that he became adept at eating rice. He understood the meaning of the grammatical example "Ver sacha gram" (meaning perhaps "true grammar" or something similar) in Mithila. Villages were rarely more than a kilometer apart. Almost every house had a small pond. Generally, people there preserved memories through ponds or gardens. Scholars there stated that texts, gardens, and offspring are the sequence of lasting memories. This led to many scholars in Mithila who, though married, abstained from conjugal life and produced texts intended for eternal fame.

Mithilan Society and its Customs: The abundance of mango, jambu, badhar, katahar, and banana trees contributed to the region's prosperity. Unlike Indian Maharajas and Nawabs who preserved the practice of marrying multiple wives, even the poor Brahmins of Mithila upheld this custom. The Brahmin he lived with had eleven wives, two at home and the rest at their paternal homes. The husband's duty was to visit each in-law's house for a few days when free from seasonal work, take donations, and return. Mithila was the land of ancient great sages and currently a region with a large Brahmin population. Its rigidity surpassed even Kashi's. Repentance was required at every step. Except for a few followers of the recently introduced Vaishnavism, most were Shaivites and Tantrics. Thus, they believed in the non-duality of God and also in the non-duality of forbidden and permissible foods. Poverty was so extreme that their scholars lent money at interest and employed laborers. However, their bigotry was such that any outsider was considered untouchable. When he, as a Jain, joined the household, the person who worked for four annas a month refused to come even when offered four rupees, as they would not eat fish or consume rice.

Interaction with Scholars and the True Guru: People considered him wealthy, and husbands harbored high hopes. He, too, spent as much as possible from his gains from knowledge to please scholars, but the result was the opposite. Scholars assumed he could give more. This forced him to move to different places. Finally, he found a scholar whom he still considers his true Guru, and to whom he bows his head. Last year, when he met him at the Hindu University in Kashi, the scholar's first question was, "Have you forgotten knowledge for seventeen years?" This scholar possessed immense knowledge, especially philosophical, and boundless love and gentleness. He never had the intention of taking anything from him. He harbored no fear of him being Jain and teaching him. This scholar's influence drew him to the city of Darbhanga, where he spent a few days in a dilapidated house teeming with dogs and insects. Mithila had significant scriptural education but virtually no practical education. The school he attended in a village by the river, amidst mango trees, was run by a single teacher who earned three rupees. This lack of education meant the police and other officials harassed the people. When a postman delivered a money order, he would deduct four to eight annas without asking the recipient. He refused to accept this deduction. The postman, a Muslim, left, telling him to collect the money at the post office. Without fear, he went to the postmaster the next day and successfully obtained his money without paying any bribe. Upon hearing this, his Guru remarked, "You are very brave." He reflected deeply on this bravery and his Guru's praise and couldn't help but smile.

The Legacy of Mithila and a New Direction: Eminent scholars from Mithila often traveled to different parts of India as academic mentors, but like lamps, their homes remained dark. Excluding newspapers that emerged with English education, he felt there was no public movement or people's education in Mithila at that time. Valuable manuscripts on paper and palm leaves were still rotting due to dampness, unread by anyone. Bengal was a disciple of Mithila in logic, but the Mithiles now considered Bengal their guru. This was true for Navdeep, Shantipur, and Kolkata.

The Intertwined Fate of Knowledge and Poverty: At the Sanskrit College in Darbhanga, renowned scholars in various subjects were present, alongside their extreme poverty. It made him wonder if there was a close relationship between Sanskrit education, poverty, timidity, and conservatism. However, as he reflected further, he realized that the educational system needed to broaden people's minds. Despite extensive learning, scholars were of little use to themselves or others. Consequently, for their livelihood, they were dependent on a narrow field, and this dependence hindered the advancement of their knowledge. If not for the work of Arya Samaj scholars, despite the existence of numerous brilliant scholars in Sanatani society, not a single philosophical text would have been translated into the vernacular. This practical approach, despite possessing intellectual prowess, kept them impoverished. Since this realization dawned upon him, he too changed his direction, focusing his mind on applying learned knowledge practically. This led him to leave Mithila and work in a central location. (From "Sabarmati" bi-monthly, Vol. 7, Issue 5-6, Vasant-Shrim, V.S. 1985).