Hello, handsome

I’ve just been to Gandhi’s house. He wasn’t in. As I was walking down the path that leads past the house to a prayer garden, a young Gujurati man waved at me and said, “Hello, handsome.” Had ol’ Gandhiji been around he would probably have had to hunger-strike for a fortnight in protest of such a carnal outburst on his own grounds. I adopted a stern disapproving face and kept walking, but I did feel partly responsible. I suppose when you’ve got it, you’ve got it.

Anyway, this bald beloinclothed man said some wise things, such as:

Whenever you are in doubt, or when the self becomes too much with you, apply the following test. Recall the face of the poorest and the weakest man whom you have seen and ask yourself if the step you contemplate is going to be of any use to him. Will he gain anything by it? Will it restore him to a control over his own life and destiny? In other words, will it lead to swaraj for the hungry and spiritually starving millions? Then you will find your doubts and yourself melting away.”


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