Keshava had to leave Yavatmal. He went to Pune and got accepted at the muth of Jagadguru Shankaracharya. The muth had taken the care of his lodging and boarding. He concentrated on the preparation of matriculation exams.
The examination was held at Amravati centre.
The result came out and Keshava had successfully passed the matriculation. After the exams he had shifted back to Nagpur.
Now Keshava was a stout youngman. His daily exercise routine showed its results in his muscles, the healthy skin and the filled up frame of the body. And
inwardly he was coming into his own and showing all the capabilities of making a niche of his own in the society. Now he was freely articulating his patriotic feelings and winning admirers.
He was no more a slogan screaming angry youngster. He could express his anger in carefully worded dialogue. His speech would leave deep impact on the listeners. Wherever Keshava went the people made way for him and showed due respect to him as a person of above ordinary level.
It was the result of his intense patriotic feelings. Now the people were calling him ‘Keshavaraoji’.
Keshavarao wanted to become a doctor at that point of time. But the things were not working in his way to realise that dream. He had no money to pay for his admission.
So, he sought an employment in a school.
He would serve in the school during the day and then would tutor some kids for extra income. He worked hard and put together the required amount. For the medical education he took admission in National Medical College of Calcutta.
It did not happen without the help of some kind patrons. Dr. Munje played a prominent role in getting Keshavarao admitted to that college. Dr. Munje was a follower of Bal Gangadhar Tilak and was always helpful to Keshavarao. He appreciated young Keshava’s patriotic spirit and his zeal.
He had a feeling that the youngman with initiative was destined to go far if something did not go wrong. Dr. Munje hoped that Calcutta would give desired direction to Keshavarao’s life.
Because Bengal was no ordinary land. At that time it was brain of India that prodcued great spiritual gurus, academicians, scientists, writers, thinkers and political ideologues. And it also was the land of young revolutionaries who were too idealistic to tolerate an alien colonial rule.
Bengal had given to India the illustrious sons like Chaitanya Mahaprabhu, Swami Vivekananda, Swami Ramakrishna Paramhansa, Bankimchandra Chattopadhyaya, Ishwar Chandra Vidyasagar, Keshava Chandra Sen, Raja Ram Mohan Roy, Bipin Chandra Pal, Surendranath Bannerji, Arvindo Ghosh, Jagdish Chandra Basu and Ravindranath Tagore etc.
Thus, Bengal was India’s land of inspiration and pride.
Keshavarao was also excited about his shift to Calcutta. He was going to the land where the flame of the patriotism was burning the brightest.
Once in Calcutta Keshavarao was seized by a feverish activity. He went around the city and saw all the places worth seeing. He met political leaders, prominent persons and revolutionaries besides religious gurus.
He met several social reformists and studied the functioning of their organisation.
So far Keshavarao was still exploring the various situations, conditions and thoughts to discover his own ideological agenda to crusade for. Through the experiences and the conclusions of others he was trying to know the real malady that Indian society suffered from.
He wished to uproot the very cause of that malady.
Keshavarao was confident that he would discover a complete cure for that disease and redeem the society. That would make the presence of the alien rulers in India unnecessary and untenable.
Meanwhile the oppression of the British against the native Indians was increasing and crossing all the civilised limits. It was angering the fierce patriot, Keshavarao.
He wished for the complete destruction of the colonial rule so that Indians could breathe in the air of freedom. From the land of Bengal he was seeking the inspiration for an agenda to achieve that goal.
The Swadeshi movement was gathering storm forcing the British to resort to the unprecedented repressive measures. In desperation they had jailed the national freedom leaders like Lokmanya Bal Gangadhar Tilak and Lala Lajpat Rai besides scores of their local and regional lieutenants.
An atmosphere or anger and frustration had built up. Keshavarao was not so easily to be demoralised. For him it was an on going battle which was bound to result in the victory of the native forces irrespective of the in-between setbacks.
In Calcutta Keshavarao had won the loyalty of the hundreds of the like minded youth. He also had established close realtionships with Bengali national patriots and several organisations.
Keshavarao had learnt Bengali while in Calcutta. He just looked a Bengali youth. There were a lot of youngmen form his native Vidarbha region studying in the medical college. It should be noted that Calcutta was the capital of the colonial British Empire of India before it was shifted to New Delhi. That is why Calcutta had the privilege of having premier educational institutions.
Keshavarao’s fellow Vidarbha students came from rich families. Financially Keshava was vulnerable but his friendly attitude and patriotism had impressed the other Vidarbha boys and they were too willing to help out Keshavarao.
They even arranged for his free stay. He had to go to a canteen for his meals. The owner of the canteen was a generous person. Keshavarao had made good impression on him as well. The canteen owner never pressed for money as he had come to know about the financial difficulties of the medical student from Nagpur. He infact used to see to it that Keshavarao was well fed.
The canteen was a bit too far from where Keshavarao was living. The travelling to and fro for meals took away some precious study time.
So, one day Keshavarao requested to the canteen owner, “Coming to and going from your canteen is claiming a lot of my time. It is affecting my studies. Could you be kind enough to arrange to send the tiffin to my room?”
The canteen owner smiled, “No problem. You can pay your entire attention to your medical study. I will get your food delivered at your room. And then, when you eat here the other customers look at you quiet amused as you are too busy with yourself.”
It amused Keshavarao too.
The canteen owner kept up his promise. From the very next day the meals began to arrive at his room regularly. The food used to be in generous quantity enough to feed two. Keshavarao’s room-mate also got his fill and saved his time and money.
In 1908 Maharashtra Lodge was established in Calcutta for the benefit of the students from the other states. Initially it was conceived as a living house for the students from Maharashtra. But later it was thrown open to the students from the other states as well.

It soon became overcrowded.
To solve the problem Anna Sahib Khapare founded another lodge named ‘Shanti Niketan’. It soon became very popular. Brainy students from all over India got attracted to it which resulted in its transformation into a kind of cultural hostel where the young folk discussed politics and the religions.
Even the city was in awe of the youngmen of Shanti Niketan Lodge.
It soon became happening place of the intelligent youth and there always was something going on. The programmes were mostly based on love, culture, drama and patriotism.
Keshavarao was leading participant in these politicalised cultural shows. He was no more Maharashtra centric. He had risen above it and now thought at the national level. After all patriotism was another name of the fierce nationalism.
Keshavarao tried to help militant Bengali youth and encouraged them not to lose hope. Young Bengalis were bearing the brunt of the British repression and the police tyranny. They were targetted people as the British officials and the native hench men had suffered at their hands most. For the police even being a youngman of Bengali origin was a crime.
Most of the militant youth were on the run being always hunted by the C.I.D. and its informers. Hundreds of them were in jails on suspicion of having links with revolutionaries. Keshavarao had deep sympathy for the daredevil Bengali youth who were setting up an example of selfless sacrifice for the youth of the rest of the country to follow.
In 1913, Damodar river flooded vast areas of the state of Bengal displacing or affecting thousands of people. Hundreds got drowned. The families were torn asunder and a large number of children orphaned.
Vast areas were covered by sheets of muddy waters.
The administration did little to help the people. The British government was unsympathetic to the people of Bengal. Even during famines the people used to be left to their fate. In one severe famine millions of Bengalis died to starvation and the authorities completely ignored the tragedy.
Some arrogant officers even claimed that it was God’s punishment to the people for their crimes. The crime obviously was the anti-British activities of the Bengali youth.
Relief works were undertaken by private parties, social organisations and religious bodies. The miseries of the thousands of blood affected people pained Keshavarao. He joined Ramakrishna Ashram as a volunteer to help out the people. The Ashram had undertaken a large scale relief works.
Keshavarao was a good swimmer which proved very helpful in saving the drowning people. He worked day and night in helping out others. His newly acquired knowledge of Bangla language also proved very handy. He could talk to the suffering people and understand what they were saying.
The services rendered to the people gave extreme satisfaction to Keshavarao. It filled him with self-confidence and purposefulness. He learnt that serving the fellow countrymen at practical level was the best manifestation of the patriotism. It was not hollow like academic patriotism.
Keshavarao was learning the importance of action.
Now he had more respect for the revolutionary youth of Bengal who were battling against the British at the practical level. He closely studied the functioning of the revolutionary youth.
They were not non-believers. The patriotic youth revolutionaries would take a solemn pledge before the deity idol of KaliMaa in the words—‘I am bound by my word of honour to liberate the motherland even at the cost of my life. Life if pledged to the loyalty to my organisation. Every thing I own belongs to Mother India. I won’t hanker after any personal desires.’

After taking the pledge a revolutionary would get the training of bomb making in the secret workshops of the organisation he subscribed to. Then, the revolutionaries recruits retreated to the inaccessible hills for arms training and the shooting practice. It was a hard life. Seeking comforts was considered an act of treason or a weakness unbecoming of a dedicated militant.
Keshavarao also became a member of the secret revolutionary outfit and took part in the activities of the same body. It included practise in the use of arms, physical training and experiments besides the learning of the doctrine of the organisation.
One day, the members held a session at the house of a professor who was the ideologue of the organisation. The session continued till mid-night before breaking up.
On the way back to home, past mid-night, Keshavarao and his pals saw a sleeping figure on the roadside. There was something very unreal about that figure. Keshavarao and his friends exchanged meaningful glances to convey that the sleeper could be a spy or an informer of the police.
One of the revolutionaries put on an act of accidentally stumbling against the sleeper. The man sprang up in panic like a thief caught red handed in the act.
He ran in cutter confusion.
Keshavarao and his comrades went in his pursuit and caught up with him after a short chase. The man turned out to be actually a police personnel in the civilian dress.
He stammered, “Brothers! I am just a government servant. I have nothing personal against you. I have to do this dirty work as a part of my duty. I am innocent. Please forgive me.”
The revolutionaries wanted to kill him. But Keshava was not in its favour.
He pleaded, “Come on, pals. Let us forgive him and let him go, We should consider that we have a friend in him in the police department.”
The other comrades also saw the wisdom of it.
They took the man to a Halwai shop and asked him to treat the party. The policeman was too happy to mind small price he had to pay for his life.
The revolutionaries enjoyed a very generous treat of sweetmeats. There was a lot of spirited light talk participated in by the policemen who had become a friend.
The friends of Keshava departed after the treat.
Keshava and the C.I.D. man were now left alone. The C.I.D. man caught the feet of Keshava and begged, “Please forgive me. Thanks for saving my life. I will always be grateful to you. You are my saviour. Consider me your faithful one.”
Thus, Keshava was expert in turning the enemies into friends. The higher authorities were aware of the anti-government activities of Keshava and secret police was assigned the job of apprehending him.
But Keshava was too slippery a character to be caught by the policemen. He had this knack of spotting the man of the secret police in mufti. The most of them he would turn into friends or confidants.
Thus, during his student days he remained out of the clutches of the law.
Keshava was physically stout. It was a mystery how he managed to have such health inspite of meagre financially resources and help.
A boy named Surendra was his class-fellow. He was a regular exercise doer for body building. Surendra prided over his muscular body and physical power. His diet was adequate. He had a funny idea that Keshava’s stout body was merely puffed up flesh.
He wished to deflate Keshava.
So, one day, when it was a vacant period, the student were chatting away the time. Surendra thought that it was the right opportunity to test his idea.
He walked up to Keshava and spoke loud enough for all to hear, “Keshava! They all admire your power. Very impressive body you have. I want to see how mighty you are. You punch at my upper arm biceps with all your might. Let us see how big impression you make on me.”
Keshava sized up his adversary and said with a smile, “Well, I like the idea generally. But I will prefer if you do the punching at my upper arm and show me how powerful you are.”
Surendra thought for a while quite amused and agreed to the suggestion. Keshava rolled up his right sleeve and offered his upper arm to his challenger.
Surendra began to punch with all his might. He had thought that a couple of punches will floor Keshava. But even after several lusty punches by Surendra, Keshava was standing with his arm turned to the attacker quite unaffected and unimpressed. It angered Surendra.
He landed a flurry of punches at the enemy arm without again making any impression.
By now entire class had gathered around the two and watched the contest really amazed.
No one expected Keshava to last that long. Contrary to all expectations, Keshava infact, was looking more charged up whereas Surendra was tiring up.
He was huffing and puffing.
He landed some more punches but his punches were getting weaker and weaker empowering the adversary with greater and greater surity of victory.
Surendra began to pant badly. He made a gesture that he was giving up.
The students hailed Keshava as the victor. Surendra had to admit, ‘‘Yes, you win, man. Your muscles are as tough as steel. You are powerful indeed.”
He shook hands with Keshava and the two became friends. Surendra never again prided over his power.
Calcutta medical college had students from all other states of India. The college hostel had limited accommodation. So, the students from other states faced lodging problems. A large group of such students got together and hired a big house in a colony.
All the students lived there like a big family. The residents of the colony didn’t like the noisy and boisterous mob in their neighbourhood.
Some orthodox people even suspected that the boys were ogling at the young women of the colony. They instigated the local goons against the students. The goons began to make trouble for the boys.
At night they would pelt stones at the house the boys lived in.
The boys pleaded with the elders of the colony, “We live in that rented house hoping to have your goodwill. We don’t want to make trouble for anyone. But some anti-social elements are trying to scare us away. Our house is being stoned every night.”
The elders looked unconcerned. They said dismissively, “We don’t know anything about the trouble makers. You must deal with the situation yourself. May be, it is your own imagination or that house could be haunted.”
The students returned to the house puzzled.
Now the goons stoned the house more viciously. It continued for several nights and the boys were really a scared lot.
The nights became terrible experiences. Many boys opined that the house was really haunted. The stone throwing act was the doing of the evil spirits, they thought.
Some students wanted to leave the house.
The majority thought that being outsiders they could not and should not invite trouble by being aggressive.
Keshavarao learnt about the trouble of the boys. One day, he walked in when they were discussing their trouble.
Keshava intervened by saying, “Brothers! Now on you should not think in terms of leaving this house. You will stay here. Give up fear. I will solve your problem. Just watch. There will be no more stone throwing.”
Keshava stayed with them for the night and stayed awake with waiting for the stoning to start. As soon as the first stone hit the house Keshava opened the door in a swift move and ran out.
He grabbed the first human shadow and ran into infront of the house and thrashed it mercilessly.
The human shadow kept screaming and pleading “Please don’t beat me. Don’t kill me. Help! Help!!”
Meanwhile the locals too had converged on that spot. But they dared not intervene in face of the fierce posture of Keshava who carried on his thrashing act.
And the shadowy figure kept crying.
When Keshava paused, a couple of locals came forward to speak, “The one your are beating is a gentleman. We know him very well. What wrong had he done to you?”
Keshava kicked the beaten up heap of the shadowy figure and walked up the crowd of the locals and said sharply, “We live in your colony for the purpose of studying our medical course. We don’t make any trouble for you. But we are not allowed to live in peace to pursue our studies. Stones are thrown at our house every night. Why the stones don’t fall on any of your houses? When we ask you about it you very innocently sing that you know nothing about it. It clearly means that you have your hands in this mischief. All of you are stone throwing thieves. Let me tell you that we are not going to vacate this house before our final examinations are over. Anyone found around this house at night will surely get beaten the daylight out of him. Be anyone of you! Don’t take us for helpless boys. We will see who throws stones at this house again.”
The stone throwing never again happened.
The fearless posture of Keshava had worked.
During the summer vacations Keshava went to Nagpur and then on to Yavatmal from there.
At Yavatmal, the British Collector of the area had earned quite a notoriety for parading his colonial arrogance. He used to walk through the markets and all the native Hindustanies were supposed to salute the Saheb in the slavish manner.
Anyone not doing so was taught a lesson by the sepoys accompanying him.
The local friends of Keshava had not revealed this fact to him.
One day he set out with his friends to roam around the place. As the group was walking along in carefree mood chatting merrily the Collector happened to be coming from the opposite direction. All the people within his sight were bending down to pay obeisance to the white superiority.

The local friends of Keshava had been caught in an embarrassing situation. They turned pale.
One of the friends whispered to Keshava as the Collector drew near, “Keshava! Collector Saheb is coming. You must salute to him.”
“I don’t know him. Why should I salute?” Keshava retorted surprised at the panic of his friends.
“It is the custom here. Everyone salutes him.”
“I don’t care for such stupid customs,” Keshava announced. All the others saluted the Collector but Keshava moved on ignoring the whiteman. The sepoys noticed it.
They approached Keshava and asked, “Don’t you know that here everyone has to bow to Angrez Saheb to show respect to the authority? Go and salute him with an apology.”
“Look, I don’t know this Angrez Saheb. Greetings and salutations are meant to be exchanged between acquaintance and not between strangers. Forcing someone to offer greeting is no better than begging. Such forced respect is very artificial and shallow. Infact, showing such respect is indirect insult to the other person. Your white Saheb appears to be a very cheap character.”
The sepoys were shocked to hear his blunt talk. They didn’t know what to do.
The Collector stared at young Keshava and for some mysterious reason he called out to the sepoys, “Sepoys! Let him go. He appears to be a new comer to this town. ”
The sepoys could not believe their ears. For the first time the Collector was behaving like a gentleman. The incident became a talk of the town.
Once, in Calcutta he met an old Maulvi named Liakat Hussain. Maulvi was an ardent fan of the Congress Leader, Bal Gangadhar Tilak. So was Keshava. Maulvi Hussain was sixty years old. The old man and the youngman became friends. The old man was very impressed with the courage and the looks of young Keshava.
Once the two attended a public meeting together. A politician was delivering a speech. He was a Tilak baiter. In the course of the speech he passed an ugly remark against Tilak. It did not go down well with the crowd but no one protested.
Keshava could not take it lying down. He ran on to the dais and slapped the speaker twice. Some supporters of the speaker tried to manhandle him. But Keshava beat them back.
The meeting broke up abruptly.
“Well done, Keshava!” Maulvi patted the back of Keshava and added, “That is how a youngman should be. A spade must be called a spade. No compromise. I like that. We should really work together.”
And indeed the volatile youngman and the old man became close associates. They could be seen most of the free time and in political campaigning together. Maulvi Liaqat Hussain himself was a freedom leader and was often invited to speak at political meetings. A good orator he was. Wherever he spoke Keshava would be the next speaker.
When Maulvi took out procession or protest marches Keshava would lead the crowd with the rebel flag held high.
Thus, political activities were taking away a lot of Keshava’s time.
Yet he would make up for the loss by burning midnight oil. Infact, he found the quiet of the night quite conducive for studies. He would secure good marks in the class tests and annual examinations. The interest in the politics made him follow the newspapers and the magazines which improved his general knowledge.
Inspite of being unable to afford all the course books Keshava passed the M.B.B.S. final examination in the first division. It surprised everyone.
Keshava stayed on in the college serving as a voluntary intern in a hospital connected to the medical college. The principal of the college was very impressed with the capabilities of Keshavarao Hedgewar.
Sometime after the M.B.B.S. result was out, the principal received a letter from the director of a hospital revealing its need for a doctor and sought his recommendation.
The principal at once thought of Dr. Keshavarao Hedgewar. He summoned the later to his office and said, “Well Dr. Keshava, I congratulate you upon becoming a qualified doctor inspite of many hadicaps. I pray for your success as a physician.”
“My achievement is all due to your kind guidance and the blessings, sir. I will ever remain thankful to you,” Keshava said in a grateful tone.
The principal smiled and revealed, “And you are one lucky fallow. I have just received a letter from Brahmdeva Hospital asking for a doctor. I think you deserve the chance. I am going to recommend your name. Get ready to join the duty.”
The principal expected profuse thanks from his pupil. But he was in for a shock. Keshava announced, “Sorry sir. I won’t be able to join duty. Anyway, thanks for considering my name.”
The principal asked in surprise, “What are you saying, youngman? This one is better than any other offer you might have got. The position in this prestigious hospital might even open doors for you to specialised training abroad as well. You are a youngman with a drive who can go far in the medical profession. I also know that you don’t have the financial backing to start your own practice. In such a situation it will be foolish to miss this offer. Think again, son.”
Dr. Keshava Hedgewar explained, “Sir, to tell you the truth I have no plans to serve anywhere as a doctor. And I don’t wish to go abroad. I have decided to dedicate my life to the service of the nation by working for the independence of the motherland from colonial rule. I think slavery is the biggest disease. I hope you understand my point and will bless me for the success of my mission.”
The principal shook his head saying, “Son, freedom politics is for older people. You still are mentally immature and inexperienced in the realities of life. First secure your position in professional field and do politicking as an allied business if you so like. Don’t make a hasty decision. Without any gainful work how do you propose to feed your family?”
“I am unmarried, sir, And I am avowed to stay bachelor all my life. I won’t raise any family somehow I will survive myself.”
The principal looked sadly at Keshava and reasoned, “Sentiments don’t run the life, son. You can’t defy nature’s basic rules. With no wife to act as a stabilising factor a youngman often falls to depths in life. I don’t wait you to suffer the same fate. I have no quarrel with your patriotic feelings. I also love the country. But the practical realities of life can not be ignored. A man with normal life can fight better for the freedom.”

“Sir, I beg to differ here. Part-time freedom fighting will get us nowhere. The situation is very bad. The country needs thousands of youngmen like me dedicating their entire lives to the cause of the country’s freedom. The educated young people are required most. Mother India is calling out to us. I have decided to answer her call and sacrifice my entire life to her cause. My mind is made up, sir. I am not acting out of confusion. The matter has been given a lot of thought by me.”
The principal gave up. With a sigh he said, “So, you are a determined youngman besides being a qualified doctor. I wish you all the success in whatever mission you undertake.”
Keshava bowed his head to the teacher and then bent down to touch his feet. The guru extended his hand touched the pupil’s head to bless it.
From Calcutta Dr. Keshavarao Hedgewar went back to Nagpur.