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When he returned home in 1920 to Nagpur after an year long incarnation in
prison, he had gained so much weight that all his civilian clothes tailored
for his earlier skinny physique, no longer fit him. His friends, especially
Mr. Mandalekar and Mr. Bobade, congratulated him on the excellent improvement
in his health.
“I did not have to work much in the prison as a political prisoner,”
explained P.P.Doctorjee. (He had been imprisoned due to his participation in
a “Satyaagraha” (civil disobedience) against the British Junta). “I ate twice
a day, exercised well, and drank all the milk that was given to me. How could
my health not improve?” said P.P.Doctorjee with a smile.
His friends said, “P.P.Doctorjee, why don’t you continue to drink the milk
everyday, outside the prison?” P.P.Doctorjee did not reply. He simply smiled.
Only his closest colleagues knew what the smile meant. P.P.Doctorjee lived in
such dire poverty that his having a single meal in a whole day was uncertain.
To advise him the luxury of drinking all the milk he wanted was literally
like rubbing salt into a wound.
Many of P.P.Doctorjee’s friends had grown into eminent lawyers. They led
luxurious lives in palatial homes. They could not even imagine the conditions
in which P.P.Doctorjee chose to live.
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