I was having tea at home on the evening of 30th January ,1948,when I was called to Birla house by an argent telephone . Gandhiji had been shot on his way to a prayer meeting . I was numb with shock as I got into the car .
At the Birla house , Gandhiji 's relatives and followers had gathered round his body.There was silence in the room as Gandhiji brathed his last. Word's of Bapuji's death had spread through Delhi like a flame fanned by wind . Sad groups off men and women had collected around Birla house. Out of every window one could see a brown bulr of faces. They did not make a sound . There was an unnatural silence . It was as if time stood still for those few minutes .