Beast of Bengal

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Synopsis

What if a war-time psychologist nearly loses his own sanity in the act of trying to save his own patients? That is the premise of Elaine's suspense novel Beast of Bengal. During World War II, 30-year-old Richard Benet is assigned to the 142nd General Hospital in Calcutta. Serving as an officer in charge of a neuropsychiatric ward, he immerses himself in treating mental cases; writing to†his wife Rita, and exploring Calcutta. He fails to recognize that his commanding officer, Colonel James McDermott-- on his way to becoming an opium addict-- is smuggling drugs out of the hospital to support not only his own habit but also the Indian Independence Movement. Only after Richard is trapped with a man-eating tiger and the 142nd General is nearly sabotaged does the psychologist give up romantic notions about India. With newfound wisdom and strength, Richard saves himself, his patients, and the hospital. The Richard Benet who sails back to America is a less idealistic but far more courageous man than the know-it-all Ph.D. psychologist at the novel's outset.

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Chapter 1

August 8, 1942
Bombay, India

The All-India Congress Committee was about to commence the dayís business. As dawn turned the sky from black to silvery gray, then to blue, people filtered into a large grassy area known as Gowalia Tank Maidan. The morning air was cold, so most wore shawls over their thin cotton garments. At the maidanís center were a large raised stage and podium. This arrangement was flanked by rows of wooden chairs. Congress wallahs in white caps stood along the roped off area to keep mere onlookers from sweeping into the reserved section.

Two visitors to Bombay, Ravi Ghosh and his friend Sanjay Roy, slipped into the growing crowd. Like most of the others, Ravi and Sanjay felt that it was time for the British to quit India forever. Everyone was curious about what Gandhiji, the advocate of Satyagraha, would say. It was felt that Gandhiís words about peaceful resistance would surely influence the outcome of this congressional gathering. Indeed, they would shape the future of the subcontinent.

Ravi was a man of the world, a business man -- or so he claimed. Sanjay, until dropping out to help fight for Indian independence, was enrolled at St. Xavierís College. In his heart, he agreed with Satyagraha. In his head, the young man suspected that "nonviolence" as a way of fighting oppression was not an intrinsic human trait.

Ravi, who was a foot taller, looked down at Sanjay to continue their ongoing debate. "There is little possibility," he announced, "that the British government will peacefully release our beloved Mother India from its control."

"Nonetheless," argued Sanjay, "If anyone can keep violence from erupting and staining our motherland, it is Gandhiji. People listen to his words and many will sincerely try to follow his peaceful example." As though doubting the truth of what heíd just said, Sanjay added, "At least...one can hope."

"My unseasoned young friend," said Ravi, "you are idealistic to a fault. Iím saying that people are not willing to wait any longer for freedom from slavery and submission. Even at the cost of lives, the British tyrants must vacate our land. If men were all saints like Gandhi, there would be no bloodshed and we would."

"Look!" interrupted Sanjay. He pointed to the far end of the maidan. "The speakers are arriving."

Cries and chants arose from the growing mob...

Mahatma Gandhi Ki jai! (Victory to Mahatma Gandhi!)

Mahatma Gandhi amar hai! (Mahatma Gandhi will never die!)

The adulation of Gandhi was seductive, and many of Sanjayís friends literally worshipped the Hindu spiritual leader, but the young man was undecided on the right path. In the same way that the believers in Satyagraha or "truth force" were devoted to Gandhi, Sanjay was intensely committed to learning from Ravi Ghosh.

The cheers grew louder: Mahatma Gandhi Ki jai!; Mahatma Gandhi amar hai!

Only a fierce effort by the stewards kept Gandhiís devotees from breaking through the guard ropes. Nearly all of the chanters aspired for darshan, the supreme happiness that came to anyone in the presence of the Holy One.

Sunlight illuminated the maidan grounds and warmed the air. Prominent Congressional Committee members Abul Kalam Azad and Kripalani climbed stairs to the raised wooden stage. Following Azad was Mohandas K. Gandhi, a small man wearing a white dhoti and a shawl, smiling radiantly and holding a bamboo cane. A hush fell over the crowd as Ghandi began to speak.

There are people who have hatred in their hearts for the British, he began. I have heard of people saying that they are disgusted with them. The common people's mind does not differentiate between a Britisher and the imperialist form of their government. To them both are the same. There are people who do not mind the advent of the Japanese. To them, perhaps, it would mean a change of masters.

But it is a dangerous thing. You must remove it from your minds. This is a crucial hour. If we keep quiet and do not play our part, it will not be right...

I know full well that the British will have to give us our freedom when we have made sufficient sacrifices and proven our strength. We must remove the hatred for the British from our hearts. At least, in my heart there is no such hatred. As a matter of fact, I am a greater friend of the British now than I ever was...

"Only a saint could feel that way," Ravi whispered to his friend. "Our Mahatma is wrong to think that the people agree with him about the British. They are not ready to follow the demands of Satyagraha. They lack the discipline, the self-denial."

"Shhh, quiet please, sahib," hissed Sanjay. "I want to hear what Gandhiji is trying to tell us."

I know (the British) are on the brink of the ditch, and are about to fall into it. Therefore, even if they want to cut off my hands, my friendship demands that I should try to pull them out of that ditch. This is my claim, at which many people may laugh, but all the same, I say this is true.

At the time when I am about to launch the biggest front in my life, there can be no hatred for the British in my heart. ...It may be that, in a moment of anger, they might do things that might provoke you. Nevertheless, you should not resort to violence; that would put non-violence to shame...It may be that wisdom will dawn on the British and they will understand that it would be wrong for them to put in jail the very people who want to fight for them....

Non-violence is a matchless weapon, which can help every one. I know we have not done much by way of non-violence and therefore, if such changes come about, I will take it that it is the result of our labors during the last twenty-two years and that God has helped us to achieve it.

When I raised the slogan "Quit India" the people in India, who were then feeling despondent, felt that I had placed before them a new thing. If you want real freedom, you will have to come together, and such a coming together will create true democracy -- the like of which has not so far been witnessed or attempted.

I have read a good deal about the French Revolution. Carlyle's work I read while in jail. I have great admiration for the French people, and Jawaharlal has told me all about the Russian Revolution.

... Once you understand these things you will forget the differences between the Hindus and Moslems.

Sanjay nudged Raviís arm to get his attention. "How many of these people have read about the French Revolution?" he whispered. "They canít even read! How can most Indian people ëjust forgetí the differences between Hindus and Muslims. They wonít!"

Ravi nodded in silent agreement.

In Satyagraha, Gandhi continued, there is no place for fraud or falsehood, or any kind of untruth. Fraud and untruth today are stalking the world. I cannot be a helpless witness to such a situation. I have traveled all over India as perhaps nobody in the present age has. The voiceless millions of the land saw in me their friend and representative, and I identified myself with them to an extent it was possible for a human being to do. I say trust in their eyes, which I now want to turn to good account in fighting this empire upheld on untruth and violence. However gigantic the preparations that the empire has made, we must get out of its clutches. How can I remain silent at this supreme hour and hide my light under the bushel?...

Every one of you should, from this moment onwards, consider yourself a free man or woman, and act as if you are free and are no longer under the heel of this imperialism....

It is not make-believe that I am suggesting to you. It is the very essence of freedom. The bond of the slave is snapped the moment he considers himself to be a free being. He will plainly tell the master: "I was your bond slave till this moment, but I am a slave no longer...

Here is a mantra, a short one, that I give you. You may imprint it on your hearts and let every breath of yours give expression to it. The mantra is: DO OR DIE. We shall either free India or die in the attempt; we shall not live to see the perpetuation of our slavery. Every true Congressman or woman will join the struggle with an inflexible determination not to remain alive to see the country in bondage and slavery. Let that be your pledge...Freedom is not for the coward or the faint-hearted...

The dayís meeting was nearing a conclusion, and the crowd of onlookers drifted away from the maidan en masse. Ravi and Sanjay, wishing to avoid the crush of humanity, began walking toward Cruikshank Road.

"Thereís a small cafe at the Shivaji Hindu Hotel, where Iím staying," Sanjay told his friend. "We can have some tandoori chicken and try to find out where Gandhi is staying. At dinner, we will be able to overhear conversations of the Satyagrahis about Gandhiís overnight whereabouts, and we can go wherever it turns out to be so as to catch a glimpse of him in the morning."

When Ravi said nothing, Sanjay added "I have mats and blankets enough for us both. It might be an adventure."

Ravi valued Sanjayís allegiance. Even though his tentative plan was to align himself with the Indian Independence Movement, he would spend a few days with the younger man to learn more about his character. He needed to surround himself with allies, and he sensed that Sanjay, at some point in the future, might prove to be a reliable accomplice.

"Well, why not," Ravi answered at last. "It will give us time, Sanjay, to finish what we began discussing a few days back. The Congress meeting took our thoughts away from immediate plans."

"Yes," said Sanjay "but at the maidan, we witnessed history in the making. We needed to be there."

"Iím not sure what kind of history was being made," Ravi said. "India demands home rule. It is overdue. Even Gandhiji seems aware that our countryís need for self-respect has gone beyond mere passive resistance. Like everyone, I want India for Indians, but the more I learn, the more I believe there are stronger paths than that of Satyagraha ."

"I live nearby, Ravi. Why donít we walk rather than go by bus? It is safer to speak about private matters in the open air."

"As we do," said Ravi, "we can work up an appetite for a fine dinner."

As the sun was going down, the two men arrived at Sanjayís apartment. They shared dinner at the Shaivajiís small restaurant. It was run down, and they sat on crude wooden benches, but the place seemed clean and the food was good. Later, along with hundreds of others, they camped in a large city park near Mani Bhaven, where Gandhi and his wife Kasturbai were staying. Early on the following morning, they walked to the railroad station, then joined in with other pedestrians following Gandhi and his entourage. It was common knowledge that Gandhi would be returning to his ashram, where he lived the simple life that he preferred. Thanks in part to Raviís commanding height, they were able to get quite near.

"Ravi, look behind us," Sanjay whispered. "Thereís a British officer, and a pack of sergeants and constables. What on earth are they doing here?"

"Shhh. Just be inconspicuous and listen. I think we are about to see more history in the making."

The cadre of British and Indian officers walked briskly by Ravi and Sanjay and stopped directly in front of Gandhi.

The chief officer, a florid, overweight Brit with several chins and small, squinty eyes, blocked Gandhi from walking any further. "What are you planning to speak on at the meeting next week?" he asked.

Gandhi held himself in a proud, upright position. The sun glinted against his round spectacles as he replied. "Why, my subject will be the value of goatís milk in ones daily diet. I will also speak against the war to prevent a free India."

"Sir, Iím sorry," said the chief officer, "but that canít be permitted. I have orders for your arrest. You must come with me." Kasturbai and Mirabel, the Gandhiís adopted daughter, moved closer to their beloved husband and father.

"Mrs. Gandhi," said the officer, "I have orders to return you and your companion to the ashram.

"If my husband is arrested, I will speak in his place." Gandhi smiled proudly at his wifeís answer. Kasturbai, however, was arrested with her husband.

In the next dayís India Times, it was announced that Gandhi and Kasturbai were interned near Poona at the palace of Aga Khan. The stately building, surrounded by palm trees, had for several years served as a prison and detention camp. Nehru and nearly all the other congressional committee members were also imprisoned.

The reunion of Ravi and Sanjay ended the same day. Ravi proclaimed that he was going to "quit India," and would be spending time out of the country. "I am filled with outrage," he proclaimed. "When I return to India, I will be needing your help."

Sanjay would leave the next day for Calcutta, the city in which he had relatives who promised to help him find work. It would be over two years before he and Ravi would meet again.

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