MAHATMA GANDHI: A TRUE INSPIRATION

Earlier in the year, MJ Akbar and I decided to co-author a book on Mahatma Gandhi. Why another book on him, when eleven thousand already exist. Yet, Gandhiana has not yet had its day. We were both aware of the diminishing demand for books on Mohandas Karamchand Gandhi. The sales are still substantial. Our book is aimed at the eighteen to twenty five age group. They are familiar with Gandhi’s name and his fads, his fasts and obsession with spinning yarn, but not with his qualities as a saintly politician.

Not one in a thousand or even ten thousand of this group would have read, “The Story of My Experiment With Truth”, his autobiography. In many ways it is unique. We also had to address the question, “Was Gandhi a saint among politicians or a politician amongst saints.” The answer is not easy. Even George Orwell, EM Forster, Nehru and Einstein have not come close to solving the riddle.

I got hooked on Gandhi in my teens. The only time I set eyes on him was in June 1945, at the railway station at Bharatpur, my home town.

“If Swaraj had to be viewed for any length of time, only as home spun thread, that would be like having an infantile leg to nurse into maturity. A man like the Mahatma may succeed in getting some of our countrymen to take an interest in this kind of uninspiring nature for a time because of their faith in his personal greatness of soul. To obey him is for them an end in itself. To me it seems that such a state of mind is not helpful for the attainment of Swaraj”

The Frontier Mail, by which he was travelling in a third class compartment to Shimla, made a five minute halt at Bharatpur. When the train stopped, the Gandhi cap wearing Congress wallahs rushed toward it. I too had acquired a Gandhi cap against the wishes of my aristocratic father. While he vaguely respected Gandhi, he was not an enthusiastic admirer.

It was Gandhiji’s silence day and that restrained the boisterous of the crowd. My attempts to get his autograph failed. I was shooed off by the humourless Pyarelal, his secretary. I only have a vague memory of the event. One thing I do remember — I thought he was darker than I had imagined.

Now to the book. The most gripping part is the exchange of letters between Tagore and Gandhi, during the nonviolent, non-cooperation movement. Tagore was critical of some aspects and wrote