I consider myself imperfect. Despite that, I strongly feel like being perfect if someone points at my imperfection. For a moment, the thought of imperfection vanishes. Why does it happen so? Perhaps because one who points at my perfection does so, while keeping in mind my perfection. He has a certain mental image of my perfection, and so he points at my imperfection. If he had in his mind my imperfection and pointed at it, I would not forget that I am imperfect.
I believe in non-violence. Occasionally I practise it also, but it would be sheer vanity if I were to think that I have ever imbibed non-violence having completely vanquished the long-inhered instinct for violence. All that I can claim is that I am following the path of non-violence. I would have answered the question - when and where will I reach? - if I had been connected only with the present. It is connected with my past and therefore the utmost I can say is that I am going along the way to non-violence.
My dear critic, the only thing I can tell you is that I am not rigidly traditional. I consider only those waters pure, which are not still, and I concede that water held still in a pit loses its purity.
I do not subscribe to the mentality of remaining as I am or unchanged, for the simple reason that in it I see the germs of violence.
‘I am imperfect and want to be perfect' this alone is the starting point of my non-violence. The imperfect will turn perfect, when what is, ceases to be, and what is not, comes into being. This is my self-criticism born of my own writing.