In Deccan Chronicle 26 MArch 2006
<!--QuoteBegin-->QUOTE<!--QuoteEBegin-->The inscrutable Gandhians
By Janavi Prasada
Ever recall reading Gandhi as a teenager at school as a part of the history course? The only other times he is remembered is on his birth and death anniversaries, which are much-awaited holidays that allow one to snooze all day. Thank God for the Mahatma! At 29 years of age, while there is much that I do not know about myself I do know that I am reliving Gandhi.
Jharna di of Noakhali
Last month I went to Noakhali district in Bangladesh to retrace the path that the 77-year-old Mahatma walked bare foot in 1946 across forty-seven villages to stop the Hindu-Muslim riots raging on the eve of the subcontinentâs moment of ironical glory â Independence with Partition. There was a sense of accomplishment in being where Gandhi had dared to tread for the sake of peace almost 60 years ago. Walking in a terrain where most houses were surrounded by muddy ponds, dotted with coconut and betel nut trees, narrow rickety bamboo bridges and dusty trails.
To be there in this day and age, and witness traces of Gandhian ideology being practised in a Muslim state by the young as well as the old was a revelation in itself.
In Noakhali, Gandhi remains alive in the women and children engrossed in spinning khadi, in a primary school started by him in 1946, and above all, in the Gandhi Ashram, which resounds with the bhajans of Gandhi each day at the crack of dawn!
The torchbearer of the legacy of Gandhi in Bangladesh and a staunch Gandhian herself is 68-year-old Jharna Dhar Choudhary. âJharna diâ, as everyone calls her fondly, is a bundle of energy. She had to flee her home with her family during the 1946 riots. She found peace in the Gandhi Ashram at Noakhali in 1979.
Back in Delhi, it took me a week to fully absorb my experience in Bangladesh. I began to read Gandhi in greater detail. Funny how the human brain works but everywhere I go, whomever I meet, I try to look for a semblance of Gandhi in the person, place or thing.
The Macaires of England
I was dining the other day at the residence of Alice and Rob Macaire on the premises of the British High Commission. I was instantly struck by two life-size rectangular paintings on their central wall. They were a pair of narrow canvases; the contrast of a white base with red human footprints across it was stark. One may not have noticed them in other circumstances, yet that night they left me with a curious appetite for more.
It so happened that on one of their weekend visits to Birla House (now Gandhi Smriti Museum) in Delhi, Rob and Aliceâs two lovely little daughters, Molly and Nell, were playing in the garden. They happened to tread on the sculptured footprints of Gandhi who had walked that path umpteen times to attend his prayer meetings. Alice was touched and amazed to see her children utterly oblivious to their actions, walking in the footsteps of the Mahatma.
Alice traced out Gandhiâs footprints from the museum on a canvas, took red paint and made her children walk on them. And these were the paintings that now adorned their drawing room wall. Alice and Rob take immense pride in them. A humbling gesture by the Macairesâ who value Gandhi more than millions of Indians would.
That is the magic of the Mahatma and the spell continues to charm me. My recent visit to Nepal was another incredible Gandhian experience. I was in the thick of chaos in Kathmandu. The anti-monarchy forces were rampant in their quest for resuming a democratic set-up.
Too many mishmashed ideologies were brewing within as the Maoists went ahead with their agenda of peace through violent methods. Local pro democracy leaders claimed to be non-violent; they held meetings, street demonstrations that somehow turned into violent agitations; the âpeopleâsâ King was striving hard to prove his noble bearings to the public.
Subedi, the hijacker
In the midst of all this I met a very intriguing character. Durga Subedi, the infamous hijacker of Nepal. An ordinary looking man, with short lanky frame, peppery hair, prominent sharp nose, light blue eyes and above all an expression of deep sense of contentment. He had hijacked a plane flying from Biratnanagar to Kathmandu in 1962, its mastermind was Nepalâs first Prime Minister B.P. Koirala. The plane was carrying Rs 30 lakhs, a much-needed sum to finance their underground movement and buy weapons for defence against monarchy to attain freedom. The hijacking was successful.
However, Subedi was nabbed in Benaras after dodging the police for about a year. He was under trial for two years in the Bhagalpur jail. It was here in his spare time that he read Gandhi and realised that violence was not the answer. At present Subedi lives an unobtrusive life in the sleepy town of Biratnagar, east of Nepal, bordering the terai regions of Bihar. He cites his lifeâs biggest lesson to people, and urges them to shed violence and follow the path of peace.
He enjoys the company of his lawyer wife in his comfortable house, facing a tiny garden with varieties of fruit bearing trees like rudrakha, lemon and red berries. Subedi is a fulfilled man with a happy family. A militant turned Gandhian. In the brief interactions with Jharna di, the Macaires and Durga Subedi, the intriguing aspect of their Gandhian traits lay in the marked distinction in their cultures, occupations, and standards of living. That is why each of them perceives Gandhi in diverse forms that appeal to their personal experiences, aspirations, motivations and crusades in life.
Why go far. Gandhian traits figure in oneâs basic household chores. My friend from college has a huge bungalow in a posh colony but she works hard at sweeping and dusting her house each day. She does drive her snazzy jeep but loves to clean it herself. She dresses well but does her own manicure and pedicure, she has raven tresses which she trims at home rather than splurge at a parlour, wears plain cotton salwar kameez, washes her own fine bone china utensils, cooks her own food which is usually vegetarian. And is she not in a sense more Gandhian than most people belonging to a similar strata of society? Peculiar as it may sound, all these individuals symbolise variations of âGandhian ideologyâ adapting itself to new generations. Gandhi was a great believer in change. Each one of us is a Gandhian in some sense, consciously or unconsciously.
Gandhi epitomised the basic nature of man to be good, to be clean, propagate peace, and righteousness in any form. Gandhi is as much a part and parcel of Indian mindset as the rest of the world. One just has to be aware of the self and reflect deeper to awaken the dormant inscrutable Gandhian within the self.
Jaanavi Prasada is a filmmaker researching the current relevance of Gandhian ideology worldwideE ver recall reading Gandhi as a teenager at school as a part of the history course? The only other times he is remembered is on his birth and death anniversaries, which are much-awaited holidays that allow one to snooze all day.
Thank God for the Mahatma! At 29 years of age, while there is much that I do not know about myself I do know that I am reliving Gandhi.
Jharna di of Noakhali
Last month I went to Noakhali district in Bangladesh to retrace the path that the 77-year-old Mahatma walked bare foot in 1946 across forty-seven villages to stop the Hindu-Muslim riots raging on the eve of the subcontinentâs moment of ironical glory â Independence with Partition. There was a sense of accomplishment in being where Gandhi had dared to tread for the sake of peace almost 60 years ago. Walking in a terrain where most houses were surrounded by muddy ponds, dotted with coconut and betel nut trees, narrow rickety bamboo bridges and dusty trails.
To be there in this day and age, and witness traces of Gandhian ideology being practised in a Muslim state by the young as well as the old was a revelation in itself.
In Noakhali, Gandhi remains alive in the women and children engrossed in spinning khadi, in a primary school started by him in 1946, and above all, in the Gandhi Ashram, which resounds with the bhajans of Gandhi each day at the crack of dawn!
The torchbearer of the legacy of Gandhi in Bangladesh and a staunch Gandhian herself is 68-year-old Jharna Dhar Choudhary. âJharna diâ, as everyone calls her fondly, is a bundle of energy. She had to flee her home with her family during the 1946 riots. She found peace in the Gandhi Ashram at Noakhali in 1979.
Back in Delhi, it took me a week to fully absorb my experience in Bangladesh. I began to read Gandhi in greater detail. Funny how the human brain works but everywhere I go, whomever I meet, I try to look for a semblance of Gandhi in the person, place or thing.
The Macaires of England
I was dining the other day at the residence of Alice and Rob Macaire on the premises of the British High Commission. I was instantly struck by two life-size rectangular paintings on their central wall. They were a pair of narrow canvases; the contrast of a white base with red human footprints across it was stark. One may not have noticed them in other circumstances, yet that night they left me with a curious appetite for more.
It so happened that on one of their weekend visits to Birla House (now Gandhi Smriti Museum) in Delhi, Rob and Aliceâs two lovely little daughters, Molly and Nell, were playing in the garden. They happened to tread on the sculptured footprints of Gandhi who had walked that path umpteen times to attend his prayer meetings. Alice was touched and amazed to see her children utterly oblivious to their actions, walking in the footsteps of the Mahatma.
Alice traced out Gandhiâs footprints from the museum on a canvas, took red paint and made her children walk on them. And these were the paintings that now adorned their drawing room wall. Alice and Rob take immense pride in them. A humbling gesture by the Macairesâ who value Gandhi more than millions of Indians would. That is the magic of the Mahatma and the spell continues to charm me. My recent visit to Nepal was another incredible Gandhian experience. I was in the thick of chaos in Kathmandu. The anti-monarchy forces were rampant in their quest for resuming a democratic set-up.
Too many mishmashed ideologies were brewing within as the Maoists went ahead with their agenda of peace through violent methods. Local pro democracy leaders claimed to be non-violent; they held meetings, street demonstrations that somehow turned into violent agitations; the âpeopleâsâ King was striving hard to prove his noble bearings to the public.
Subedi, the hijacker
In the midst of all this I met a very intriguing character. Durga Subedi, the infamous hijacker of Nepal. An ordinary looking man, with short lanky frame, peppery hair, prominent sharp nose, light blue eyes and above all an expression of deep sense of contentment.
He had hijacked a plane flying from Biratnanagar to Kathmandu in 1962, its mastermind was Nepalâs first Prime Minister B.P. Koirala. The plane was carrying Rs 30 lakhs, a much-needed sum to finance their underground movement and buy weapons for defence against monarchy to attain freedom. The hijacking was successful. However, Subedi was nabbed in Benaras after dodging the police for about a year. He was under trial for two years in the Bhagalpur jail. It was here in his spare time that he read Gandhi and realised that violence was not the answer.
At present Subedi lives an unobtrusive life in the sleepy town of Biratnagar, east of Nepal, bordering the terai regions of Bihar. He cites his lifeâs biggest lesson to people, and urges them to shed violence and follow the path of peace. He enjoys the company of his lawyer wife in his comfortable house, facing a tiny garden with varieties of fruit bearing trees like rudrakha, lemon and red berries. Subedi is a fulfilled man with a happy family. A militant turned Gandhian.
In the brief interactions with Jharna di, the Macaires and Durga Subedi, the intriguing aspect of their Gandhian traits lay in the marked distinction in their cultures, occupations, and standards of living. That is why each of them perceives Gandhi in diverse forms that appeal to their personal experiences, aspirations, motivations and crusades in life.
Why go far. Gandhian traits figure in oneâs basic household chores. My friend from college has a huge bungalow in a posh colony but she works hard at sweeping and dusting her house each day. She does drive her snazzy jeep but loves to clean it herself. She dresses well but does her own manicure and pedicure, she has raven tresses which she trims at home rather than splurge at a parlour, wears plain cotton salwar kameez, washes her own fine bone china utensils, cooks her own food which is usually vegetarian. And is she not in a sense more Gandhian than most people belonging to a similar strata of society? Peculiar as it may sound, all these individuals symbolise variations of âGandhian ideologyâ adapting itself to new generations. Gandhi was a great believer in change. Each one of us is a Gandhian in some sense, consciously or unconsciously.
<b>Gandhi epitomised the basic nature of man to be good, to be clean, propagate peace, and righteousness in any form. Gandhi is as much a part and parcel of Indian mindset as the rest of the world. One just has to be aware of the self and reflect deeper to awaken the dormant inscrutable Gandhian within the self.</b>
Jaanavi Prasada is a filmmaker researching the current relevance of Gandhian ideology worldwide
<!--QuoteEnd--><!--QuoteEEnd-->
<!--QuoteBegin-->QUOTE<!--QuoteEBegin-->The inscrutable Gandhians
By Janavi Prasada
Ever recall reading Gandhi as a teenager at school as a part of the history course? The only other times he is remembered is on his birth and death anniversaries, which are much-awaited holidays that allow one to snooze all day. Thank God for the Mahatma! At 29 years of age, while there is much that I do not know about myself I do know that I am reliving Gandhi.
Jharna di of Noakhali
Last month I went to Noakhali district in Bangladesh to retrace the path that the 77-year-old Mahatma walked bare foot in 1946 across forty-seven villages to stop the Hindu-Muslim riots raging on the eve of the subcontinentâs moment of ironical glory â Independence with Partition. There was a sense of accomplishment in being where Gandhi had dared to tread for the sake of peace almost 60 years ago. Walking in a terrain where most houses were surrounded by muddy ponds, dotted with coconut and betel nut trees, narrow rickety bamboo bridges and dusty trails.
To be there in this day and age, and witness traces of Gandhian ideology being practised in a Muslim state by the young as well as the old was a revelation in itself.
In Noakhali, Gandhi remains alive in the women and children engrossed in spinning khadi, in a primary school started by him in 1946, and above all, in the Gandhi Ashram, which resounds with the bhajans of Gandhi each day at the crack of dawn!
The torchbearer of the legacy of Gandhi in Bangladesh and a staunch Gandhian herself is 68-year-old Jharna Dhar Choudhary. âJharna diâ, as everyone calls her fondly, is a bundle of energy. She had to flee her home with her family during the 1946 riots. She found peace in the Gandhi Ashram at Noakhali in 1979.
Back in Delhi, it took me a week to fully absorb my experience in Bangladesh. I began to read Gandhi in greater detail. Funny how the human brain works but everywhere I go, whomever I meet, I try to look for a semblance of Gandhi in the person, place or thing.
The Macaires of England
I was dining the other day at the residence of Alice and Rob Macaire on the premises of the British High Commission. I was instantly struck by two life-size rectangular paintings on their central wall. They were a pair of narrow canvases; the contrast of a white base with red human footprints across it was stark. One may not have noticed them in other circumstances, yet that night they left me with a curious appetite for more.
It so happened that on one of their weekend visits to Birla House (now Gandhi Smriti Museum) in Delhi, Rob and Aliceâs two lovely little daughters, Molly and Nell, were playing in the garden. They happened to tread on the sculptured footprints of Gandhi who had walked that path umpteen times to attend his prayer meetings. Alice was touched and amazed to see her children utterly oblivious to their actions, walking in the footsteps of the Mahatma.
Alice traced out Gandhiâs footprints from the museum on a canvas, took red paint and made her children walk on them. And these were the paintings that now adorned their drawing room wall. Alice and Rob take immense pride in them. A humbling gesture by the Macairesâ who value Gandhi more than millions of Indians would.
That is the magic of the Mahatma and the spell continues to charm me. My recent visit to Nepal was another incredible Gandhian experience. I was in the thick of chaos in Kathmandu. The anti-monarchy forces were rampant in their quest for resuming a democratic set-up.
Too many mishmashed ideologies were brewing within as the Maoists went ahead with their agenda of peace through violent methods. Local pro democracy leaders claimed to be non-violent; they held meetings, street demonstrations that somehow turned into violent agitations; the âpeopleâsâ King was striving hard to prove his noble bearings to the public.
Subedi, the hijacker
In the midst of all this I met a very intriguing character. Durga Subedi, the infamous hijacker of Nepal. An ordinary looking man, with short lanky frame, peppery hair, prominent sharp nose, light blue eyes and above all an expression of deep sense of contentment. He had hijacked a plane flying from Biratnanagar to Kathmandu in 1962, its mastermind was Nepalâs first Prime Minister B.P. Koirala. The plane was carrying Rs 30 lakhs, a much-needed sum to finance their underground movement and buy weapons for defence against monarchy to attain freedom. The hijacking was successful.
However, Subedi was nabbed in Benaras after dodging the police for about a year. He was under trial for two years in the Bhagalpur jail. It was here in his spare time that he read Gandhi and realised that violence was not the answer. At present Subedi lives an unobtrusive life in the sleepy town of Biratnagar, east of Nepal, bordering the terai regions of Bihar. He cites his lifeâs biggest lesson to people, and urges them to shed violence and follow the path of peace.
He enjoys the company of his lawyer wife in his comfortable house, facing a tiny garden with varieties of fruit bearing trees like rudrakha, lemon and red berries. Subedi is a fulfilled man with a happy family. A militant turned Gandhian. In the brief interactions with Jharna di, the Macaires and Durga Subedi, the intriguing aspect of their Gandhian traits lay in the marked distinction in their cultures, occupations, and standards of living. That is why each of them perceives Gandhi in diverse forms that appeal to their personal experiences, aspirations, motivations and crusades in life.
Why go far. Gandhian traits figure in oneâs basic household chores. My friend from college has a huge bungalow in a posh colony but she works hard at sweeping and dusting her house each day. She does drive her snazzy jeep but loves to clean it herself. She dresses well but does her own manicure and pedicure, she has raven tresses which she trims at home rather than splurge at a parlour, wears plain cotton salwar kameez, washes her own fine bone china utensils, cooks her own food which is usually vegetarian. And is she not in a sense more Gandhian than most people belonging to a similar strata of society? Peculiar as it may sound, all these individuals symbolise variations of âGandhian ideologyâ adapting itself to new generations. Gandhi was a great believer in change. Each one of us is a Gandhian in some sense, consciously or unconsciously.
Gandhi epitomised the basic nature of man to be good, to be clean, propagate peace, and righteousness in any form. Gandhi is as much a part and parcel of Indian mindset as the rest of the world. One just has to be aware of the self and reflect deeper to awaken the dormant inscrutable Gandhian within the self.
Jaanavi Prasada is a filmmaker researching the current relevance of Gandhian ideology worldwideE ver recall reading Gandhi as a teenager at school as a part of the history course? The only other times he is remembered is on his birth and death anniversaries, which are much-awaited holidays that allow one to snooze all day.
Thank God for the Mahatma! At 29 years of age, while there is much that I do not know about myself I do know that I am reliving Gandhi.
Jharna di of Noakhali
Last month I went to Noakhali district in Bangladesh to retrace the path that the 77-year-old Mahatma walked bare foot in 1946 across forty-seven villages to stop the Hindu-Muslim riots raging on the eve of the subcontinentâs moment of ironical glory â Independence with Partition. There was a sense of accomplishment in being where Gandhi had dared to tread for the sake of peace almost 60 years ago. Walking in a terrain where most houses were surrounded by muddy ponds, dotted with coconut and betel nut trees, narrow rickety bamboo bridges and dusty trails.
To be there in this day and age, and witness traces of Gandhian ideology being practised in a Muslim state by the young as well as the old was a revelation in itself.
In Noakhali, Gandhi remains alive in the women and children engrossed in spinning khadi, in a primary school started by him in 1946, and above all, in the Gandhi Ashram, which resounds with the bhajans of Gandhi each day at the crack of dawn!
The torchbearer of the legacy of Gandhi in Bangladesh and a staunch Gandhian herself is 68-year-old Jharna Dhar Choudhary. âJharna diâ, as everyone calls her fondly, is a bundle of energy. She had to flee her home with her family during the 1946 riots. She found peace in the Gandhi Ashram at Noakhali in 1979.
Back in Delhi, it took me a week to fully absorb my experience in Bangladesh. I began to read Gandhi in greater detail. Funny how the human brain works but everywhere I go, whomever I meet, I try to look for a semblance of Gandhi in the person, place or thing.
The Macaires of England
I was dining the other day at the residence of Alice and Rob Macaire on the premises of the British High Commission. I was instantly struck by two life-size rectangular paintings on their central wall. They were a pair of narrow canvases; the contrast of a white base with red human footprints across it was stark. One may not have noticed them in other circumstances, yet that night they left me with a curious appetite for more.
It so happened that on one of their weekend visits to Birla House (now Gandhi Smriti Museum) in Delhi, Rob and Aliceâs two lovely little daughters, Molly and Nell, were playing in the garden. They happened to tread on the sculptured footprints of Gandhi who had walked that path umpteen times to attend his prayer meetings. Alice was touched and amazed to see her children utterly oblivious to their actions, walking in the footsteps of the Mahatma.
Alice traced out Gandhiâs footprints from the museum on a canvas, took red paint and made her children walk on them. And these were the paintings that now adorned their drawing room wall. Alice and Rob take immense pride in them. A humbling gesture by the Macairesâ who value Gandhi more than millions of Indians would. That is the magic of the Mahatma and the spell continues to charm me. My recent visit to Nepal was another incredible Gandhian experience. I was in the thick of chaos in Kathmandu. The anti-monarchy forces were rampant in their quest for resuming a democratic set-up.
Too many mishmashed ideologies were brewing within as the Maoists went ahead with their agenda of peace through violent methods. Local pro democracy leaders claimed to be non-violent; they held meetings, street demonstrations that somehow turned into violent agitations; the âpeopleâsâ King was striving hard to prove his noble bearings to the public.
Subedi, the hijacker
In the midst of all this I met a very intriguing character. Durga Subedi, the infamous hijacker of Nepal. An ordinary looking man, with short lanky frame, peppery hair, prominent sharp nose, light blue eyes and above all an expression of deep sense of contentment.
He had hijacked a plane flying from Biratnanagar to Kathmandu in 1962, its mastermind was Nepalâs first Prime Minister B.P. Koirala. The plane was carrying Rs 30 lakhs, a much-needed sum to finance their underground movement and buy weapons for defence against monarchy to attain freedom. The hijacking was successful. However, Subedi was nabbed in Benaras after dodging the police for about a year. He was under trial for two years in the Bhagalpur jail. It was here in his spare time that he read Gandhi and realised that violence was not the answer.
At present Subedi lives an unobtrusive life in the sleepy town of Biratnagar, east of Nepal, bordering the terai regions of Bihar. He cites his lifeâs biggest lesson to people, and urges them to shed violence and follow the path of peace. He enjoys the company of his lawyer wife in his comfortable house, facing a tiny garden with varieties of fruit bearing trees like rudrakha, lemon and red berries. Subedi is a fulfilled man with a happy family. A militant turned Gandhian.
In the brief interactions with Jharna di, the Macaires and Durga Subedi, the intriguing aspect of their Gandhian traits lay in the marked distinction in their cultures, occupations, and standards of living. That is why each of them perceives Gandhi in diverse forms that appeal to their personal experiences, aspirations, motivations and crusades in life.
Why go far. Gandhian traits figure in oneâs basic household chores. My friend from college has a huge bungalow in a posh colony but she works hard at sweeping and dusting her house each day. She does drive her snazzy jeep but loves to clean it herself. She dresses well but does her own manicure and pedicure, she has raven tresses which she trims at home rather than splurge at a parlour, wears plain cotton salwar kameez, washes her own fine bone china utensils, cooks her own food which is usually vegetarian. And is she not in a sense more Gandhian than most people belonging to a similar strata of society? Peculiar as it may sound, all these individuals symbolise variations of âGandhian ideologyâ adapting itself to new generations. Gandhi was a great believer in change. Each one of us is a Gandhian in some sense, consciously or unconsciously.
<b>Gandhi epitomised the basic nature of man to be good, to be clean, propagate peace, and righteousness in any form. Gandhi is as much a part and parcel of Indian mindset as the rest of the world. One just has to be aware of the self and reflect deeper to awaken the dormant inscrutable Gandhian within the self.</b>
Jaanavi Prasada is a filmmaker researching the current relevance of Gandhian ideology worldwide
<!--QuoteEnd--><!--QuoteEEnd-->