Sjt. Ghosal did not know me when he gave me the work. Only later did he enquire about my credentials.
I found my work very easy—the disposal of that heap of correspondence. I had done with it in no time, and Sjt. Ghosal was very glad. He was talkative. He would talk away for hours together. When he learnt something from me about my history, he felt rather sorry to have given me clerical work. But I reassured him: “Please don’t worry. What am I before you? You have grown grey in the service of the Congress, and are as an elder to me. I am but an inexperienced youth. You have put me under a debt of obligation by entrusting me with this work. For I want to do Congress work, and you have given me the rare opportunity of understanding the details.”
“To tell you the truth,” said Sjt. Ghosal, “that is the proper spirit. But young men of today do not realize it. Of course I have known the Congress since its birth. In fact I may claim a certain share with Mr. Hume in bringing the Congress into being.”
And thus we became good friends. He insisted on my having lunch with him.
Sjt. Ghosal used to get his shirt buttoned by his bearer. I volunteered to do the bearer’s duty, and I loved to do it, as my regard for elders was always great. When he came to know this, he did not mind my doing little acts of personal service for him. In fact he was delighted. Asking me to button his shirt, he would say, “You see, now, the Congress secretary has no time even to button his shirt. He has always some work to do.” Sjt. Ghosal’s naivete amused me, but did not create any dislike in me for service of that nature. The benefit I received from this service is incalculable.
In a few days I came to know the working of the Congress. I met most of the leaders. I observed the movements of stalwarts like Gokhale and