Again, Gandhi fasted. Princes and untouchables gathered in New Delhi to glimpse the dozing little man in a loin cloth, and to hear the latest medical bulletins. This time, however, a jarring note sounded. A small crowd of unsympathetic Hindus and Sikhs began to shout: "Let Gandhi die!" From an automobile lunged Premier Jawaharlal Nehru, who is India's Johnny-on-the-spot as Fiorello LaGuardia was Manhattan's. Cried Nehru: "How dare you say that? Kill me first!" Nehru chased the dissidents down the street. Inside, Gandhi dozed on.
Downhill. Things had gone from bad to worse for Gandhi, the pacifist, in recent months. India and Pakistan drifted toward war in Kashmir. Religious feelings still ran high from the autumn massacres in the Punjab; Sikh and Hindu refugees demanded revenge against Pakistan, and were forcing Moslems out of their homes. War fever caught on in Pakistan, whose Prime Minister Liaquat Ali Khan hopefully exclaimed: "Every Pakistani is an atom bomb in himself."
Like many another Indian, Gandhi felt that a new cycle of mass riots was approaching. But his once loyal disciples, distracted by new political power, paid less & less attention to his struggle for peace.
Gandhi thought he knew where to place at least part of the blame: on Sardar Vallabhbhai Patel, his longtime friend and boss of the Congress Party.
In the Indian government, Patel led the "war party" which insisted on a "get-tough" policy toward Pakistan. He seemed inclined also to crack down on Moslems within India: "Mere declarations of loyalty to the Indian Union will not help Moslems at this critical juncture," said Patel. Later he became bolder, and darkly hinted at open war with Pakistan. Most Sikhs and many Hindus applauded Patel. Obliquely, Gandhi observed that Patel had "thorns on his tongue." Without warning, one day last week the Mahatma began to fast.
At 79, Gandhi was in no condition to fast for long. (His longest heretofore: three weeks. His most recent fast, last September, lasted only 73 hours.) Worried doctors who hovered over him thought he might not live beyond two weeks.
Not many Indians knew exactly why he was fasting, or what they should do to dissuade him. Some did not seem to care.
But crowds increased daily about the home of wealthy C. D. Birla, where Gandhi lay. Attendance boomed at his evening prayer services. On the third day, he was too weak to walk the 100 yards from the palatial Birla House to his prayer service, and he addressed the meeting through a loudspeaker from his bed. Physicians reported that he was weakening, hour by hour; his kidneys were not functioning properly. He sipped hot water apathetically.
Upgrade. At this point, when it seemed that Gandhi might die defeated in his battle against hatred, a wave of emotion swept India. With newspapers and radios carrying hourly bulletins of his sinking condition, Delhi's frayed citizens began to organize meetings and processions around the single motto: "Save Gandhi's life." Post-office employees stamped on every letter mailed in New Delhi the message: "Keep communal peace and save Mahatma Gandhi."