HEAVEN, March 6, 2009: On learning that his last few worldly mundane objects fetched $1.8 million at an auction in New York, over 60 years after his death, Mahatma Gandhi, expressed shock, bewilderment and utter surprise to me in an exclusive interview today.
“Did you say $1.8 million?” he asked. Then he counted on his fingers for some time and asked, “how much is that figure?”
“Rs 93,600,000?” he said aghast when informed about the latest dollar-rupee conversion. “Does America have so much money?”
After a more detailed brief, eyes moist, he asked, “ONE MAN, only one individual, has so much money. And he is an Indian?”
He was more than utterly shaken when informed of the credentials of the gentleman who brought it. “A liquor baron… you mean one man sells liquor to half a billion of Indians, earn that much money, and even used that money to buy back my stuff…. Sandals, coat pocket watch, glasses, and my brass plate and bowl… for that amount.”
He cried for a while, when I refrained from showing him the latest kingfisher calendar downloaded on to the desktop on my iPhone.
“…and there are still poor people in India?” he asked, crying incessantly. “And a Congress government rules India…?”
He sat silently, in meditation, when I finished my brief version of Indian history since the fateful day when Nathuram Godse bowed to him, in a posture of pranam, and then shot those three bullets.
Then he again said, in the same vein, since the fateful moment on January 30, 1948, “Hey Ram.”
He shook his head to learn about terrorism, 9-11, wars, Mumbai and Lahore attacks, Mangalore incident, pub culture, Babri Masjid demolition, 2004 Godhra, 1975 Emergency, 1984 riots… everything. “Is this all real?” asked the Mahatma.
Efforts to cheer him by popping out a Rs 500 note and showing his bliss-filled face on the most important institution of the country – money – produced no results.. However, his toothless face lit up when told about the story of the recent hit Bollywood film, Lage Raho Munnabhai.
“Oscar Award?” he said, when told that the first ever Indian to win it, Bhanu, was part of an epic film on him. He further reveled in the success of Slumdog Millionaire. “Are the children happy now, in a good home, with access to
Unable to lie to the greatest soul of the century, I confessed the truth. “The boys are back in the slums… their fathers beat them if they don’t work for money… which they use to drink…”
Bapu, father of the nation, closed his eyes, and repeated lines from the Bhagwad Gita for solace, but even his un-shakeable faith in God could not console him immediately.
“I had very few objects as property when I left the earth. They might have been worth Rs 2.50 in value…. And I used to be guilty for being so rich…” he confessed. “If all you say is true, I hope they just forget me… sometimes, I was disappointed in a son of mine… as a father, I often chided myself for not being a good father… maybe I have been a bad father of a nation too…”
Neither Indian Shining nor Jai Ho could console him… nor the story of India’s liberalization, nor the tales of liberty, or of men and women dancing half-naked in pubs – none could do anything to cheer him up. Nor of the prohibition on October 2, not of the grand efforts of the government to fetch his stuff back… nothing.
Changing the topic completely, I told him about the success of US President Barrack Obama, and how, like Nelson Mandela, and so many other global icons, he too consider Bapu his ideal, he nodded.
“India’s youth, Bapu, loves you… works hard, aims to rise high in life… and they respect you, even if sometimes they disagree with you… they will do something, everything, to make India regain its glory…. Just like you… fearlessly, will of courage… truthfully.”
At this, he smiled… and disappeared, ending the interview.
INPUTS FROM EARTH
In the meanwhile, politicians across the country were dismayed to know about the proceedings of the auction… none cared a damn about the views of the Mahatma, and rued the lost opportunities for political mileage.
“What the hell? $1.8 million… and to think when we visited his ashram, we could so easily have got it off… are you saying stuff he owned is as lucrative to siphon off as say land or liquor permits… well, we can’t have everything.”
Another said, “We could have organized an entire campaign… imagine, blasting the government, just before the polls… and they got it back. Did they?”
“Of course, we only sent him to buy it, it was the achievement of the government… who else but the Congress party government will use a liquor baron to represent it in the USA in matters relating to Mahatma Gandhi….” boasted another.
“It was never so important… not like Soniaji’s watch or Rahulji’s spectacles…” added another dismissively.
“Did you say $1.8 million?” he asked. Then he counted on his fingers for some time and asked, “how much is that figure?”
“Rs 93,600,000?” he said aghast when informed about the latest dollar-rupee conversion. “Does America have so much money?”
After a more detailed brief, eyes moist, he asked, “ONE MAN, only one individual, has so much money. And he is an Indian?”
He was more than utterly shaken when informed of the credentials of the gentleman who brought it. “A liquor baron… you mean one man sells liquor to half a billion of Indians, earn that much money, and even used that money to buy back my stuff…. Sandals, coat pocket watch, glasses, and my brass plate and bowl… for that amount.”
He cried for a while, when I refrained from showing him the latest kingfisher calendar downloaded on to the desktop on my iPhone.
“…and there are still poor people in India?” he asked, crying incessantly. “And a Congress government rules India…?”
He sat silently, in meditation, when I finished my brief version of Indian history since the fateful day when Nathuram Godse bowed to him, in a posture of pranam, and then shot those three bullets.
Then he again said, in the same vein, since the fateful moment on January 30, 1948, “Hey Ram.”
He shook his head to learn about terrorism, 9-11, wars, Mumbai and Lahore attacks, Mangalore incident, pub culture, Babri Masjid demolition, 2004 Godhra, 1975 Emergency, 1984 riots… everything. “Is this all real?” asked the Mahatma.
Efforts to cheer him by popping out a Rs 500 note and showing his bliss-filled face on the most important institution of the country – money – produced no results.. However, his toothless face lit up when told about the story of the recent hit Bollywood film, Lage Raho Munnabhai.
“Oscar Award?” he said, when told that the first ever Indian to win it, Bhanu, was part of an epic film on him. He further reveled in the success of Slumdog Millionaire. “Are the children happy now, in a good home, with access to
Unable to lie to the greatest soul of the century, I confessed the truth. “The boys are back in the slums… their fathers beat them if they don’t work for money… which they use to drink…”
Bapu, father of the nation, closed his eyes, and repeated lines from the Bhagwad Gita for solace, but even his un-shakeable faith in God could not console him immediately.
“I had very few objects as property when I left the earth. They might have been worth Rs 2.50 in value…. And I used to be guilty for being so rich…” he confessed. “If all you say is true, I hope they just forget me… sometimes, I was disappointed in a son of mine… as a father, I often chided myself for not being a good father… maybe I have been a bad father of a nation too…”
Neither Indian Shining nor Jai Ho could console him… nor the story of India’s liberalization, nor the tales of liberty, or of men and women dancing half-naked in pubs – none could do anything to cheer him up. Nor of the prohibition on October 2, not of the grand efforts of the government to fetch his stuff back… nothing.
Changing the topic completely, I told him about the success of US President Barrack Obama, and how, like Nelson Mandela, and so many other global icons, he too consider Bapu his ideal, he nodded.
“India’s youth, Bapu, loves you… works hard, aims to rise high in life… and they respect you, even if sometimes they disagree with you… they will do something, everything, to make India regain its glory…. Just like you… fearlessly, will of courage… truthfully.”
At this, he smiled… and disappeared, ending the interview.
INPUTS FROM EARTH
In the meanwhile, politicians across the country were dismayed to know about the proceedings of the auction… none cared a damn about the views of the Mahatma, and rued the lost opportunities for political mileage.
“What the hell? $1.8 million… and to think when we visited his ashram, we could so easily have got it off… are you saying stuff he owned is as lucrative to siphon off as say land or liquor permits… well, we can’t have everything.”
Another said, “We could have organized an entire campaign… imagine, blasting the government, just before the polls… and they got it back. Did they?”
“Of course, we only sent him to buy it, it was the achievement of the government… who else but the Congress party government will use a liquor baron to represent it in the USA in matters relating to Mahatma Gandhi….” boasted another.
“It was never so important… not like Soniaji’s watch or Rahulji’s spectacles…” added another dismissively.
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