| I
went into the temple. On the dusty floor of the gudha mandapa, on which once stood the
noblest and the mightiest in India, a police sub-inspector had tied a pony! Since my college days, I had dreamt of the vanished glories of
Gujarat. Since 1910, I have dreamt and thought and written about Gujarat-one and
indivisible rising again in its pristine glory. In my first novel in 1915, I had found in
'Jai Somanatha' Gujarat's ancient battle cry. But at the plight of this shrine, I broke
down. With a heavy heart, we then went to Dehotsarga.
I knew that for several years, the public of Saurashtra,
supported by several influential Hindus all over India, had tried to have the dharmashala
and the temple at Dehotsarga repaired. Their appeal, however, had been in vain. |
