By Vengrai
Parthasarathy
I am not a male chauvinist. I have always believed that while men
are superior to women in some respects, women are in others. Simply
stated they can never be equal. This is dispute .by, none else than the
wife, mine and others. She clings to a meaning-less phrase ‘Better-half”
being bandied about.. ..I am convinced that it is a facetious phrase. I prefer
‘the other half’.. Anyway that is not the subject of this piece but I may come to it
later.
I have three heroes, men whom I admire. There are others too but
these three top the list .Swamy Vivekananda, Rabindranath Tagore and Pandit
Jawaharlal Nehru. The first two . . I have only heard about or read
about. But admire their personalities and what they have achieved or stood
for. .
Vivekananda stirred my imagination, for his modern ideas and the speech which he delivered in Chicago by beginning to address the assemblage
as “Brothers and sisters of America”.
While in school I had learnt by heart Tagore’s poem “Where the Mind
is Without Fear”, an inspirational classic. I had even written an article on
Tagore's classic.
Nehru, as someone said is not just a man but a procession of
men.: Patriot, Statesman, Author, Freedom fighter, Barrister and above all a
Humanist. It was in the late fifties that I had gone to Delhi in the
month of October and happened to visit Gandhiji’s Samadhi on his birthday.
There was a lot of police bandobust, and there he was followed by a bunch
of political cronies and some members of the public. I joined the crowd
and inched forward to a few feet of Panditji, when a police Inspector
took me firmly by the hand and told me in no uncertain voice ‘Go back”. I
did.. I had to but happy anyway, having had a glimpse of the great
man--freckles and all..
Shortly afterwards, I met in Delhi a Law College classmate of mine, one
Mr.Karta who was connected with the Indian Institute of Parliamentary Studies.
“Why don’t you come ? Panditji is addressing an invited audience”. I
jumped at the offer. And he took out an invitation from his brief case. I
went.. Panditji spoke with great sincerity and passion about the Legislative
wing and its importance. After the speeches were over, we moved over for
buffet at an adjacent quadrangle.
I was trying to reach out for a samosa when another hand too
was extended
in the direction of the potato chips plate nearby.. It had freckles on top
of the palm and wrist. I looked up and there he was..: Nehruji.. He gave one of
his charming smiles to no one in particular and before I could recover
from it all, he was gone.. He sort of pranced away and on his way he
gave, with a rolled up paper, a pat on the butt of an elderly lady who
was bent over, picking up something.
A senior woman of the Congress party she was. Recovering quickly from the
shock and a bit red in the face, and realizing who had played the prank
she quickly gave him a paternal look and smile.. Nehruji was gone.
In. the late fifties, I was working for Indian Airlines , and
was on duty at the Delhi Palam airport.The usual crowd of party
leaders, politicians and others were there with garlands and bouquets.
Nehruji was returning from a foreign trip (Russia, if I remember right) and
being in my uniform I could see him from very close quarters. He was
gone. The next day a photographer who covers the comings and goings
of dignitaries handed me a photo. There I was next to Panditji who was in a
smiling mood.. I could not believe it. The photo is still one of my treasured
keep-sakes --my daughter has it somewhere. Somewhere safe, she says.
Soon after my marriage I took out this photo from my album. My wife gave a
look which I thought was not one of admiration. “Hey, that’s
great”,. she said in a 'So-what' tone. I saw no more than passing
interest in her eyes. “Oh, nothing”, she said. After a little
persuasive talk she said ”Wait”. . She rummaged an old suitcase and produced
from it a photo of Nehru visiting the Ramakrishna Mission in Bangalore. A
slender girl was handing over a bouquet to a smiling Panditji..
”Who is it” ? I asked.
“ Thats me, I was wearing spectacles in those days”, said my better-half
who had done one better than me... .
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