Writing about a legend, as you can imagine, is tricky stuff.
And when he/she has become an institution, the person is a perfect pain in the wrong place to write about. If we say anything against the popular belief, it’s craving for cheap publicity and otherwise…. its cliché.
Still, I owe these ruminations to my adolescence. My first venture in the sphere of ‘adult stuff’ was, surprisingly, not through porn. It was through politics, and admiration for this man was the reason behind that.
Though I have heard this name since I learnt to distinguish my thumb from my forefinger by sucking them, it was not until the age of 12, that I somewhat associated him with the “bigger scheme of things”.
In fact, I remember the night very distinctly.
We were halfway through shifting to our new house. Since ours is a joint family, it took us two days to shift completely. This was the first night. The new house had electricity, but no electrical fittings. I was alone with my grandparents in the new house and the day after next was a History test.
My grandparents were sleeping downstairs. I was studying in the mezzanine floor, under a 60W old bulb, the sole drop of light in the huge triple storied house. The room was half piled with cardboard boxes and cartons. I could hear the sound of their breathing in the darkness around me and snuggling more inside the little patch of light.
Looking back, I wonder if Subhash Chandra would have taken this place in my childhood, had I first read about his life in a different setup. Anyway, the ambience was just what the doctor ordered. As Netaji crept out of his own house at the dead of the night with the British sleuth hounds watching the front door, I was the drunk slumped against a lamp post on the street. When he mounted the last train from an unknown station, I was the tramp sleeping on the platform. As he was washing his face in a river on the way to Moscow, I was the village boy fishing on a rock nearby. As he was leading the azaad hind fauj through the jungles of Burma, I was the young shepherd on roadside………. watching the uniformed battalion in awe.
Ok, so I slept over. But you can’t blame someone for dozing over on History!!!!
However, from that day, I felt a queer tinge of excitement about everything associated with this man. Of course, even Subhash Chandra was not enough to counter my loathing for studies. But though ashamed, I must admit, - he was the reason behind my being seen with the history textbook on a Friday evening after that.
Still, as you have gathered, till then I knew nothing about the politician, the freedom fighter, or the commander Subhash Chandra Bose.
He was just a superhero, like Superman, or Batman. A death wrapped in mysterious oblivion, a blood-boiling motto – “Give me blood, I’ll give you a freedom...” and a burning voice in millions of radios at the dead of the night….. “Ami Subhash bolchi…..”
Then…. I grew up. And among others, knowledge robbed me of this wonder as well.
I learnt about a man who trusted General Tojo to help him in a mission to free a country. I learnt about a man who thought it possible to achieve independence by tying the knot with Adolf Hitler. I learnt about a ‘Fauj’ he led that is still dreaded over some parts of India and Myanmar as a bunch of unruly hooligans massacring the remains of their meager belongings.
It was first time I learnt how cold the sound of a cracking dream can be.
It hurt.
Netaji betrayed my trust. My conscience defied my heart to admire him, but there are few things more adamant than a sixteen year old heart. I was torn between me and myself.
But, my history had more in store for me.
Soon enough, Gandhiji joined the party.
As a child, even when I was not in a position to gauge the effectiveness of Gandhiji the leader, I could never help but admire the novelty of Gandhiji’s form of protest. Something Einstein said about Gandhi really touched me, “The future generation may find it hard to believe that such a man once walked the face of the Earth.”
Now, this stand of mine gave rise to a grave situation while talking to friends.
I can’t say about the world outside India, but according to my own experience, the better part of the younger generation in India (the politically aware section, I mean) invariably saw Gandhiji as a traitor, a villain, and a coward. His loincloth-clad, true-to-truth, celibacy-preaching non-violence had apparently nothing ‘cool’ to appeal to the youth.
On the other hand, Subhash Chandra was the valiant leader, the fighter, the extremist, - a visionary striving for nothing but complete independence. Its no wonder that a generation who likes to think themselves as rebels would be more attracted towards the latter.
Still, I never had much problem disagreeing with the popular belief. The trouble lied elsewhere. I found it terribly irritating that every time someone discussed Netaji in a glorious light, it had to be tainted with a jeer aimed towards Mahatma Gandhi.
The result was, I was infuriated with these two legends. What right did they have to claim a teen ager’s admiration, if they cannot agree on a single thing over their whole life?
No, wait. I was wrong there. They did. Both of them wanted an independent India. But, I guess they had their priorities set differently. One said, if the independence comes at the cost of violence, he will refuse it. The other said, he will willingly shake hands with the Devil for an independent India.
Unfortunately, I had no one to resort to in this crisis. Everyone, everyone gave me a choice. Everyone tried to judge them. It was always an either or case. But I did not want a choice. I simply wanted to know why I loved, admired and looked up to both of them. Was it a problem with me?
But, time passed. A day came when I was legally allowed to visit A-rated movies. And along with my feelings towards the opposite sex, I was trying to sort out the differences between two of my first heroes.
About Gandhiji, I decided that he, as a person was one of the bravest, boldest and most influential leaders the human race will ever see….. and left it at that. How effective a freedom fighter he really was, and whether it was possible to have a free India earlier, had he not stuck to non-violence, - are questions to be answered by people more knowledgeable than me. At any rate, I really don’t think that has anything to do with what kind of a person he was.
Any way, Subhash Chandra was not that easy to sort out. If we go by the results, one cannot really deny that, looking at the broader perspective, he was a failure in his life. None of his real dreams, did actually come true….. at least, not by the ways he dreamt of. If not anything else, even his biggest follower cannot say that his struggles had a very direct impact on liberating India.
Yet, he is remembered as the forgotten hero, the martyr, the prodigal child of Mother India.
It was a choice between facts and legends. Results and tragedy. History and…………. dream.
And there I learned one of the most important lessons in my life….. I decided to trust the dream.
Netaji showed me, it takes only one man to start an army.
Netaji showed me, it takes only one man to raise a flag for billions.
Netaji showed me, it takes only man to keep the rulers of a worldwide empire awake, night after night.
But above all, Netaji showed me……. The strength of hope.
And when he/she has become an institution, the person is a perfect pain in the wrong place to write about. If we say anything against the popular belief, it’s craving for cheap publicity and otherwise…. its cliché.
Still, I owe these ruminations to my adolescence. My first venture in the sphere of ‘adult stuff’ was, surprisingly, not through porn. It was through politics, and admiration for this man was the reason behind that.
Though I have heard this name since I learnt to distinguish my thumb from my forefinger by sucking them, it was not until the age of 12, that I somewhat associated him with the “bigger scheme of things”.
In fact, I remember the night very distinctly.
We were halfway through shifting to our new house. Since ours is a joint family, it took us two days to shift completely. This was the first night. The new house had electricity, but no electrical fittings. I was alone with my grandparents in the new house and the day after next was a History test.
My grandparents were sleeping downstairs. I was studying in the mezzanine floor, under a 60W old bulb, the sole drop of light in the huge triple storied house. The room was half piled with cardboard boxes and cartons. I could hear the sound of their breathing in the darkness around me and snuggling more inside the little patch of light.
Looking back, I wonder if Subhash Chandra would have taken this place in my childhood, had I first read about his life in a different setup. Anyway, the ambience was just what the doctor ordered. As Netaji crept out of his own house at the dead of the night with the British sleuth hounds watching the front door, I was the drunk slumped against a lamp post on the street. When he mounted the last train from an unknown station, I was the tramp sleeping on the platform. As he was washing his face in a river on the way to Moscow, I was the village boy fishing on a rock nearby. As he was leading the azaad hind fauj through the jungles of Burma, I was the young shepherd on roadside………. watching the uniformed battalion in awe.
Ok, so I slept over. But you can’t blame someone for dozing over on History!!!!
However, from that day, I felt a queer tinge of excitement about everything associated with this man. Of course, even Subhash Chandra was not enough to counter my loathing for studies. But though ashamed, I must admit, - he was the reason behind my being seen with the history textbook on a Friday evening after that.
Still, as you have gathered, till then I knew nothing about the politician, the freedom fighter, or the commander Subhash Chandra Bose.
He was just a superhero, like Superman, or Batman. A death wrapped in mysterious oblivion, a blood-boiling motto – “Give me blood, I’ll give you a freedom...” and a burning voice in millions of radios at the dead of the night….. “Ami Subhash bolchi…..”
Then…. I grew up. And among others, knowledge robbed me of this wonder as well.
I learnt about a man who trusted General Tojo to help him in a mission to free a country. I learnt about a man who thought it possible to achieve independence by tying the knot with Adolf Hitler. I learnt about a ‘Fauj’ he led that is still dreaded over some parts of India and Myanmar as a bunch of unruly hooligans massacring the remains of their meager belongings.
It was first time I learnt how cold the sound of a cracking dream can be.
It hurt.
Netaji betrayed my trust. My conscience defied my heart to admire him, but there are few things more adamant than a sixteen year old heart. I was torn between me and myself.
But, my history had more in store for me.
Soon enough, Gandhiji joined the party.
As a child, even when I was not in a position to gauge the effectiveness of Gandhiji the leader, I could never help but admire the novelty of Gandhiji’s form of protest. Something Einstein said about Gandhi really touched me, “The future generation may find it hard to believe that such a man once walked the face of the Earth.”
Now, this stand of mine gave rise to a grave situation while talking to friends.
I can’t say about the world outside India, but according to my own experience, the better part of the younger generation in India (the politically aware section, I mean) invariably saw Gandhiji as a traitor, a villain, and a coward. His loincloth-clad, true-to-truth, celibacy-preaching non-violence had apparently nothing ‘cool’ to appeal to the youth.
On the other hand, Subhash Chandra was the valiant leader, the fighter, the extremist, - a visionary striving for nothing but complete independence. Its no wonder that a generation who likes to think themselves as rebels would be more attracted towards the latter.
Still, I never had much problem disagreeing with the popular belief. The trouble lied elsewhere. I found it terribly irritating that every time someone discussed Netaji in a glorious light, it had to be tainted with a jeer aimed towards Mahatma Gandhi.
The result was, I was infuriated with these two legends. What right did they have to claim a teen ager’s admiration, if they cannot agree on a single thing over their whole life?
No, wait. I was wrong there. They did. Both of them wanted an independent India. But, I guess they had their priorities set differently. One said, if the independence comes at the cost of violence, he will refuse it. The other said, he will willingly shake hands with the Devil for an independent India.
Unfortunately, I had no one to resort to in this crisis. Everyone, everyone gave me a choice. Everyone tried to judge them. It was always an either or case. But I did not want a choice. I simply wanted to know why I loved, admired and looked up to both of them. Was it a problem with me?
But, time passed. A day came when I was legally allowed to visit A-rated movies. And along with my feelings towards the opposite sex, I was trying to sort out the differences between two of my first heroes.
About Gandhiji, I decided that he, as a person was one of the bravest, boldest and most influential leaders the human race will ever see….. and left it at that. How effective a freedom fighter he really was, and whether it was possible to have a free India earlier, had he not stuck to non-violence, - are questions to be answered by people more knowledgeable than me. At any rate, I really don’t think that has anything to do with what kind of a person he was.
Any way, Subhash Chandra was not that easy to sort out. If we go by the results, one cannot really deny that, looking at the broader perspective, he was a failure in his life. None of his real dreams, did actually come true….. at least, not by the ways he dreamt of. If not anything else, even his biggest follower cannot say that his struggles had a very direct impact on liberating India.
Yet, he is remembered as the forgotten hero, the martyr, the prodigal child of Mother India.
It was a choice between facts and legends. Results and tragedy. History and…………. dream.
And there I learned one of the most important lessons in my life….. I decided to trust the dream.
Netaji showed me, it takes only one man to start an army.
Netaji showed me, it takes only one man to raise a flag for billions.
Netaji showed me, it takes only man to keep the rulers of a worldwide empire awake, night after night.
But above all, Netaji showed me……. The strength of hope.
1 comment:
An unfortunate legacy imposed on every Indian and more so a bong ever since one is born. Why does it always have to be a choice between Gandhi or Subhash? The fight for ideologies totally defeats the purpose. It isn't about respective success or failure either.
Both men had a dream and had the courage to follow through on it in whichever fashion they saw fit. That was all it was. The hype needs to be cut out at some point. So why not now?
Ideological justifications are for the lazy and weak-hearted. It is easiest to hide behind the excuse of ideology.
Our generation can do better. Our actions and not choices make us who we are. It is up to us therefore, to move out of this tragic situation and commit to doing rather than resting on past laurels.
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