Glimpse of Gandhi : Part I
Monday, 6 October 2014
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02 October is celebrated as
Gandhi Jayanti in India and as International Non-Violence Day around the world,
in the fond memory of Shri Mohandas Karamchand Gandhi, the father of the nation
of India who led a life set by examples and guided the nation to the path of
independence from the British colonial rule. He was a great political and
spiritual leader who led an austere life and fought all adversities with his two
great weapons, namely – satya (truth)
and ahimsa (non-violence).
This year, the birthday of Bapu
(as Mahatma Gandhi is fondly called) was celebrated by launching a “Swachhh Bharat” (Clean India) Campaign
with an aim to fulfil his dream of a clean and healthy India. Scores of
citizens across the country vowed to keep their homes and surroundings clean
and pledged to devote at least two hours a week to realise this dream.
This narrative is a story of my
fictitious encounter with Bapu at my workplace, the day he took a new avatar to
reiterate his teachings. The characters referred to in the narrative are
fictitious and any resemblance to anybody is, therefore, purely co-incidental.
October 02, 2014:
It was a bright Thursday morning.
The sky was crisp blue in colour and was beautifully lit up by the vibrant rays
of the sun at the horizon. The breeze was cool and refreshing and was
punctuated by the chirping of birds and rustling of leaves. What a lovely
weather it was, I thought, admiring the serenity of the environment. It was
8:00 a.m. and I was already prepared to leave for office. Unlike other days,
this time I decided to take a bus to my office instead of boarding the Delhi
Metro. I had barely reached the bus stop when I found the bus for route number
901 already waiting there for the passengers. Whoa! I got in as fast as I could
and grabbed a seat next to the window. The conductor obliged me with the ticket
and with that began the journey, a smooth ride in an air conditioned bus. Wait,
gone are the days when the buses were rickety and the journey tiresome. Delhi
Transport Corporation (DTC) has indeed undergone a metamorphosis in the last
five years. The bus hit one road to another, stopping on several occasions on
several stops and each time there was an exchange of passengers – inside and
outside the bus. I could read the newspaper, nod occasionally at my fellow
passenger’s words and crack a peanut or two each time the bus halted. Then came
the most wonderful part of the journey when the bus passed by the Red Fort. A
large number of school students had gathered at the ramparts of the majestic
fort to take part in the Clean India Campaign. What a delightful sight it was
to see young boys dressed as Gandhi and were joined by young girls dressed in
colourful attire.
One could feel an air of
celebration in the entire city. All government office buildings were
beautifully decorated with marigold flowers and incandescent lamps and had a
garlanded idol of Bapu placed on a high pedestal right at the main gate. After a
brief exchange of morning greetings with my colleagues, I proceeded toward the
conference hall, where all the employees had gathered to express their
solidarity and read the pledge for a clean India. It was followed by
distribution of samosas and laddoos (Indian delicacies). I found
myself at fault in thinking of this event to be a ceremonial exercise or a mere
political stint. Employees, right from the level of boss to the peon had
actually made a contribution in this campaign and were equally enthusiastic to
participate in more of such campaigns. The event concluded in about an hour and
it being a gazetted holiday, most of the employees started leaving for their
homes.
Alas! There were fault in my stars
this day too or else I would not have been doomed to complete my assignments. I
could see the jubilation in the eyes of my friends as they left for Cannaught
Place to celebrate the day while I had to start the engine of my monotonous
office routine. How envious I felt! By 11:00 a.m., there were hardly a couple
of employees working in the office and we were joined by a couple of security
guards. I started building my concentration and decided to finish my work as
soon as possible. But time ceases to move when you want it to move and it
ceases to stop when you want it to stop. With a deadline to meet, I was
experiencing the latter situation.
It was around 1:30 p.m. when,
working alone, I started feeling claustrophobic – a morbid fear of being in a
confined space. Strange and spooky thoughts started surfacing in my mind which was
further reinforced with the revelation of a few haunted experiences that
happened in the past. The sound of the clock needle moving or the tube light
flickering made me feel uncomfortable. And then suddenly something happened
that made me shudder with fear. I could hear someone writhing in pain as if the
person was being beaten with clubs or lashed with a whip. I swallowed a whiff
of air and got up to find out the source of the sound. I chased the screams as
far as I could and was led to the sixth floor, which was otherwise always
locked. The door creaked as I opened it; there was no lock on the latch. I
paced my steps on the corridor, took a left turn, then a right turn, but was
still unable to hunt that sound. I went on to roam around the floor and reached
a diversion. Barely had I raised my left feet to take the next step when a
chair came rolling toward me. I was left aghast! In that dimly lit corner, the
chair stopped and started revolving on its wheels. I could see a yellow shape rolling
on the chair, leaning itself on the backrest and looking right into my eyes. My
hands froze and my legs got buried in the ground. I felt choked and couldn’t
scream. I found myself unable to show any sign of locomotion and could only
recite a few prayers in my mind. Fortunately, it worked; the maha mrityunjaya
mantra that I had learnt in my
childhood was showing its strength to me today. The chair crashed against a
wall and made a terrible screeching sound that could have made a person go
deaf.
I felt emaciated as I got up and
moved toward the chair. Voila! I finally found out the ‘yellow thing’ on the
chair. It was a beam of sunlight that sieved through an old broken window and
fell directly on the chair. The motion of the blades of an old rusted exhaust
fan fixed across the window gave a flickering effect to this light. Oh
sunshine! Thou art nearly killed me with trauma! The screams stopped and a
group people emerged from the darkness. They looked like freedom fighters. Yes,
they indeed were! In a trice they encircled me and started chanting ‘vande mataram’, gyrating on the floor. Was I hallucinating? Yes, I was.
No, I wasn’t. I closed my eyes, with both my hands covering my ears. They
disappeared in a while, but the echo of their chants didn’t. I summoned all my
courage and started walking briskly toward the exit. The door closed with a bang
as I left the floor.
I had a sigh of relief, gulped
some water and spilled some on my shirt in my haste. I tried to forget what
happened and resumed my work from where I had left and started working on a few
reports. The mosquitoes hovering under my desk made me more and more impatient
but the only help I could seek for myself was scratch my skin till it turned
red. Another hour passed and the same fear started surfacing in my mind again.
This time I had an ominous feeling that somebody was sharpening a sword by
bruising it back and forth over a slab. This was further joined by zapping of
electricity and sharp sound of snapping noises.
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