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...But, at long last, there came a glimmering hope for the long-suffering kisan, a whisper of better times and lighter burdens. A little man came who looked straight into his eyes, and deep down into his shrunken heart, and sensed his long agony. And there was magic in that look, a fire in his touch, and in his voice there was understanding and a yearning and abounding love and faithfulness unto death. And when the peasant and the worker and all who were down-trodden saw him and heard him, their dead hearts woke to life and thrilled, and a strange hope rose in them, and they shouted with joy:
...Jawaharlal Nehru in 'Glimpses of World History', 1933
Hmm!
So sad that it was before my time. But we did shout that slogan throatily, long after he was shot dead, when our school in the early 1950s marched along the streets of Muthukur holding aloft our tricolor, tossing toffees to street-urchins who ran beside us, every year on the Gandhi Jayanti on October 2 (we pocketed half a dozen each).
Now, of course, it still is a National Holiday even for foreign firms that make wads of cheap money here without paying overdue retrospective taxes ("Make in India!"). And we order pizzas from our street-side Domino's for our late lunch:
and throng pubs late at night and crush a couple of pavement-sleepers under our swank SUVs and run and escape the long arm of the law by our lucky turquoise bracelet charms gifted by our fond fathers.
Sorry for that vitriol...we know not what we do, with all our sorrows swimming in our beer bellies.
But my mom (bless her soul!) told me that she watched Gandhi walk with his smiling face along the streets of Rajamundry when she was 12. He couldn't speak our Telugu and we didn't know his Hindi. So he was accompanied by Sarojini Naidu, our own:
...Sarojini Naidu was born in Hyderabad to Aghore Nath Chattopadhyay and Barada Sundari Debi on 13 February 1879. Her father, with a doctorate of Science from Edinburgh University, settled in Hyderabad, where he founded and administered Hyderabad College, which later became the Nizam's College in Hyderabad. Her mother was a poetess and used to write poetry in Bengali. She was the eldest among the eight siblings. Her brother Virendranath Chattopadhyaya was a revolutionary and her other brother, Harindranath was a poet, a dramatist, and an actor.
Naidu met Govindarajulu Naidu, a doctor by profession, and at the age of 19, after finishing her studies, she got married to him. At that time, inter-caste marriages were not allowed, but her father approved the marriage....
...wiki
And as Sarojini walked the pavements with a begging bowl in her hands, the poor ladies of Rajamundry who thronged to see Gandhi simply peeled their precious gold ear-rings off and placed them in Gandhi's bowl for winning their promised Swaraj.
A decade later, we were being thrashed from across the Himalayas by our Chini-bhais and we didn't know how to cover our arses (all we had were rusted WWII rifles that didn't fire). Nehru, the Dove of Peace, appealed to Kennedy to urgently airlift a few token rusted Patton Tanks to our side of the Himalayas (that are quaking again). Kennedy obliged for what was already known as a lost cause.
But we didn't have the dollars to pay for his tanks. So a catchy slogan rent our skies from our forlorn Finance Ministry asking our ladies to donate their precious:
"Ornaments for Armaments! Ornaments for Armaments!! Ornaments for Armaments!!!"
All they got was 'rolled gold' fake bracelets, thank you!:
Apparently Gandhi never liked this Mahatma sobriquet dumped on him. When Gandhi was visiting London for one of those infructuous Round Table Conferences, Bernard Shaw met him and boasted: "I am also a sort of Mahatma!"
And both had a hearty laugh maybe:
This leader from India, Gandhi, was a mystery and a wonder for the British. The way he lived everyday was news in London. His day began at four and he kept on working well past midnight.
Attending the meetings, taking part in discussions with leaders and his visitors, writing replies to the letters received, and preparing articles for the journals.
One day George Bernard Shaw, the famous thinker and playwright visited him. “I am also a sort of a Mahatma’’, Shaw said as he grasped the hands of Mahatma Gandhi. They discussed various topics of common interest for about an hour.
http://www.indiavideo.org/text/gandhi-met-george-bernard-shaw-80.php
...Posted by Ishani
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...But, at long last, there came a glimmering hope for the long-suffering kisan, a whisper of better times and lighter burdens. A little man came who looked straight into his eyes, and deep down into his shrunken heart, and sensed his long agony. And there was magic in that look, a fire in his touch, and in his voice there was understanding and a yearning and abounding love and faithfulness unto death. And when the peasant and the worker and all who were down-trodden saw him and heard him, their dead hearts woke to life and thrilled, and a strange hope rose in them, and they shouted with joy:
"Mahatma Gandhi ki jai"
...Jawaharlal Nehru in 'Glimpses of World History', 1933
Hmm!
So sad that it was before my time. But we did shout that slogan throatily, long after he was shot dead, when our school in the early 1950s marched along the streets of Muthukur holding aloft our tricolor, tossing toffees to street-urchins who ran beside us, every year on the Gandhi Jayanti on October 2 (we pocketed half a dozen each).
Now, of course, it still is a National Holiday even for foreign firms that make wads of cheap money here without paying overdue retrospective taxes ("Make in India!"). And we order pizzas from our street-side Domino's for our late lunch:
Sorry for that vitriol...we know not what we do, with all our sorrows swimming in our beer bellies.
But my mom (bless her soul!) told me that she watched Gandhi walk with his smiling face along the streets of Rajamundry when she was 12. He couldn't speak our Telugu and we didn't know his Hindi. So he was accompanied by Sarojini Naidu, our own:
Ghar ki Ladki...Nightingale of India
...Sarojini Naidu was born in Hyderabad to Aghore Nath Chattopadhyay and Barada Sundari Debi on 13 February 1879. Her father, with a doctorate of Science from Edinburgh University, settled in Hyderabad, where he founded and administered Hyderabad College, which later became the Nizam's College in Hyderabad. Her mother was a poetess and used to write poetry in Bengali. She was the eldest among the eight siblings. Her brother Virendranath Chattopadhyaya was a revolutionary and her other brother, Harindranath was a poet, a dramatist, and an actor.
Naidu met Govindarajulu Naidu, a doctor by profession, and at the age of 19, after finishing her studies, she got married to him. At that time, inter-caste marriages were not allowed, but her father approved the marriage....
...wiki
And as Sarojini walked the pavements with a begging bowl in her hands, the poor ladies of Rajamundry who thronged to see Gandhi simply peeled their precious gold ear-rings off and placed them in Gandhi's bowl for winning their promised Swaraj.
A decade later, we were being thrashed from across the Himalayas by our Chini-bhais and we didn't know how to cover our arses (all we had were rusted WWII rifles that didn't fire). Nehru, the Dove of Peace, appealed to Kennedy to urgently airlift a few token rusted Patton Tanks to our side of the Himalayas (that are quaking again). Kennedy obliged for what was already known as a lost cause.
But we didn't have the dollars to pay for his tanks. So a catchy slogan rent our skies from our forlorn Finance Ministry asking our ladies to donate their precious:
"Ornaments for Armaments! Ornaments for Armaments!! Ornaments for Armaments!!!"
All they got was 'rolled gold' fake bracelets, thank you!:
Apparently Gandhi never liked this Mahatma sobriquet dumped on him. When Gandhi was visiting London for one of those infructuous Round Table Conferences, Bernard Shaw met him and boasted: "I am also a sort of Mahatma!"
And both had a hearty laugh maybe:
This leader from India, Gandhi, was a mystery and a wonder for the British. The way he lived everyday was news in London. His day began at four and he kept on working well past midnight.
Attending the meetings, taking part in discussions with leaders and his visitors, writing replies to the letters received, and preparing articles for the journals.
One day George Bernard Shaw, the famous thinker and playwright visited him. “I am also a sort of a Mahatma’’, Shaw said as he grasped the hands of Mahatma Gandhi. They discussed various topics of common interest for about an hour.
http://www.indiavideo.org/text/gandhi-met-george-bernard-shaw-80.php
...Posted by Ishani
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