Disclaimer:
This book “Gandhi vs Singh” is a combination of facts about Mahatma Gandhiji and Bhagat Singh’s life and certain embellishments. Some details have been changed, invented, and altered for literary effect. The reader should not consider this book anything other than a work of literature.
The author in no way represents and favours any political party. The likeness of historical/famous figures have been used fictitiously; the author does not speak for or represent these people. All opinions expressed in this book are the author’s, or fictional.
All incidents and dialogue, and all characters with the exception of some well-known historical figures are products of the author's imagination and are not to be construed as real. Where real-life historical figures appear, the situations, incidents, and dialogues concerning those persons are entirely fictional and are not intended to depict actual events or to change the entirely fictional nature of the work. In all other respects, any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
ACT 1:
August 15, 2019.
The Independence Day of India.
It was the day that marked the historic episode of India gaining independence from the Britishers in 1947. Our Prime Minister, Shri Narendra Modi, was about to hoist the flag and conduct the ceremony at the Lal Qila (Red Fort) from Delhi. Everyone around the country was celebrating Independence Day in their own way. While some were pretending to be patriotic by changing their display picture on Facebook, forwarding messages on WhatsApp and sharing various kinds of photos of the Indian Flag on Instagram, some others were genuinely proud of their country's independence and have always been trying to bring changes in their country. Then there was a third type who simply relished the fact that Independence Day meant a day off from work!
Chirag, a man of twenty-eight years, was of the third kind of people who couldn’t say Independence Day from Republic Day or Gandhi Jayanti. It was just another day for him. He strongly believed in celebrating Independence Day his way by lying on the bed all day.
It was almost 6:00 in the morning and Chirag was fast asleep. A sudden cacophony of speaker-testing noises followed by “Kar chale hum fida” playing on the speakers, makes him jump out of his bed,
“Who is this person trying to be a fake patriot early in the morning?” Chirag murmured irritably. He hurriedly wears his slippers and goes to the verandah to see who was playing the song on the loudspeaker. It was very early in the morning and the sun rays hadn’t really entered the lanes and by-lanes of the city.
Chirag looked around but couldn’t find anyone operating the loudspeaker. One of the neighbours came out of her house, carrying a puja ki thali in her hands. She looked up to find Chirag looking for something.
“What happened Chirag? Looking for something?” The lady asked.
“Not anyone specific, aunty. Just looking for the person working the speakers,” Chirag replied.
“Oh. He is the secretary of our society trying to re-check the sound system before today’s function commences.” The neighbour said.
“Function? What function?”
“Today’s Independence Day function, beta. Like every year, this year too we are going to hoist a flag and organize various kinds of events.”
“Ohh! Thank you so much!”
“Happy Independence Day, beta.”
“Same to you, aunty.” Chirag did not wish heartily.
The neighbour left for the temple and Chirag went back inside his room after closing the door of the verandah. He went back to bed and slept like a log.
After a while, the bedroom door creaked open and Chirag's grandfather entered his room. He knew his grandson all too well and guessed that he would not be ready for the flag hoisting ceremony.
“Chirag, you should wake up early today. You have to join me for the flag ceremony.” The grandfather nudged him on his back.
“Grandpa, in case you don’t remember, I was on a flight last night. It has only been a few hours that I am back, and I have a jet lag. Please leave me alone.” Chirag murmured deliriously.
“But today is the15th of August, beta.”
“Yes, I know. Our Independence Day. It is a holiday. Please let me sleep.”
“Just come down for ten minutes. Salute the national flag and after that, you can leave.” The grandfather insisted.
Unknown to the grandfather, a small tornado of frustration was building up inside his grandson. He removes the pillow from his face and sits upon the bed.
“Grandpa, let me show you outside.”
“Son, listen to me for once.” He insisted in vain.
Chirag turned him around, held him by the shoulders and gently pushed him out of his room before slamming the door behind him. Disappointed, his grandfather goes downstairs. Relieving him for any possible sources of disturbing, Chirag adjusted the temperature of A.C. and fell asleep again. However, the obliging and caring grandson in him, couldn’t afford to sleep after his rude behaviour with his grandfather. Chirag sat up shortly again and decided to go apologize to his grandfather.
Chirag went downstairs and started looking around for his grandfather.
“Dadu? Where are you?” Chirag shouts as he could not find his grandfather in the hall downstairs.
“I am here, in the kitchen. Wait a minute. I am coming. Would you like to have some tea?” The loving grandfather asked.
“Yes, please,” Chirag replied as he slumped on the chair, still sleepy.
After some time, the grandfather came out from the kitchen with two cups of tea. He gave one cup to Chirag.
“Nothing to eat for Breakfast?” Chirag asked while sipping on his tea.
“No dear. I haven’t prepared anything because I have to reach early at the flag ceremony.” The grandfather replied.
“Fine. And yes, I am sorry, dadu, I should not have behaved like that with you. Please forgive me.”
The grandfather smiled. He looked at Chirag while he was reading the WhatsApp messages filled with Independence Day wishes. He thought to ask Chirag to join him at the flag ceremony, one last time.
“So, what have you decided? Are you coming to the function or not?”
“Not again. Please dadu, I really don’t want to come to your ridiculous and childish flag ceremony.” Chirag replied with an air of nonchalance.
“What's wrong with you? You know, when you were a child you would wait so eagerly for Independence Day?”
Chirag keeps his tea-cup down and looks at his innocent dadu. “As a child, I used to like Shaktiman too. Now, thinking about it, makes me embarrassed. As for the Independence Day function, I liked taking part in various competitions that were arranged at the event and I was waiting to get the first price. I am a grown-up now. I have a purpose in life and I couldn’t care less for these childish affairs. Also, nothing quite has changed here. The same Musical Chair, Patriotic Song Singing, Fancy Dress competition, etc, etc. Pathetic!”
The grandfather’s heart sank at Chirag’s crude words. He wanted to protest, just as the doorbell rang.
“I’ll get it.” Chirag got up to open the door.
“Dadu, dadu, dadu!” The squeals of three children filled up the room as Chirag opened the door to them. They ran past Chirag and went to his grandpa.
The toddlers were dressed as Gandhiji, Bhagat Singh, and a soldier respectively. The grandfather’s face lit up at the sight of them.
“Wow. Look who all are here! You children look amazing.” The grandfather praised the children.
Chirag watched the scene closely and it brought a smile to his face. Staying abroad had weakened ties with the cultural and warmth that characterized his childhood. Watching the kids in all their innocence, brought back all the fuzzy feelings he was deprived from. He sat on the sofa.
“But, Grandpa. My Dhoti is very loose. Could you please fix it? Otherwise, it will come out in front of everyone.” Baby Gandhiji chirped.
The other two children, who were dressed as Bhagat Singh and a Soldier, laughed at the statement. Chirag chucked too.
“Come here, I will fix it for you.” Chirag called out to the Baby Gandhiji.
The little boy scurries to Chirag holding his dhoti.
“Do you really know how to fix it?” The baby Gandhi asked Chirag.
“Of course, I would also dress up like you as a child,” Chirag replied while fixing the dhoti.
Meanwhile, the Grandfather noticed a toy gun in the hand of Baby Bhagat Singh and it shocked him.
“Listen! Aren’t you playing Bhagat Singh? Why are you carrying a gun with you?” The grandfather asked.
The precocious little revolutionary was on point with his explanation. “My father gave me this gun. He told me that Bhagat Singh fired bullets on the Britishers. That’s why the Britishers killed him and Bhagat Singh became a martyr.”
“But, did your father tell you why Bhagat Singh fired bullets on the Britishers?” grandfather was curious.
“No. That he did not tell me. He told me that Bhagat Singh is his superhero.” The little turbaned general raised his gun in the air in a heroic gesture.
Chirag who was busy fixing the dhoti of Baby Gandhiji was intently listening to the young brigade.
“Yes, Grandpa. My father also gave me this wooden stick and told me that Gandhiji threw out the Britishers from India with the help of one stick.” the boy dressed as Mahatma Gandhi quipped.
“Oh God! So, this is what the young generation of today is being fed upon. Incomplete information and half-baked history.”
Chirag laughs. Grandfather wondered what he could have found funny. To avoid adding fuel to fire, Chirag diverted the topic.
“Hey, Soldier! How’s the Josh?”
“High Sirrrrrrrr.” The 3 feet soldier shouted as high as his voice permitted.
Disappointed at history being served with nonchalance, the grandfather asked all the three children to go attend the function. The three children left after greeting Chirag.
Chirag noticed his grandfather’s disappointment.
“By the way, Grandpa. What do you think? Who was right?” Chirag asked.
“Right in what?” The grandfather replied.
“I mean to say who do you consider your hero? Bhagat Singh or Gandhiji?”
“Is this even a question? The whole world knows that Mahatma Gandhiji fought for our freedom from the Britishers.”
“That’s the problem with your generation. I cannot understand why you people even consider him Mahatma (Enlighted Soul or Saint). He is responsible for the current condition of our country. Bhagat Singh was the bravest who had stirred fear in the hearts of the Britishers and sacrificed his life for our country.” Chirag expressed his views candidly.
“Beta, it’s impossible to match the highly moral yet simply path that Gandhiji followed. He gave us freedom by walking on the path of truth and non-violence.”
“Huh! It’s just like MS Dhoni coming in the end; hitting the boundary; finishing off his style and India winning the match. Everybody cheers for MS Dhoni as if he single-handedly won the match for India. The efforts of the players who played before him, are forgotten and reduced to nothing. People do not even consider that without them, it would have been impossible to win the match. The same goes for Gandhiji. He could have easily saved Bhagat Singh. But, he did not because by doing so he might have had to share all the credit and limelight with Bhagat Singh and what why he would never have been elevated to the status of a Mahatma.”
What started as a discussion was soon taking the form of a battle of words and opinions. Though Chirag was enjoying his stint, his grandfather was not comfortable arguing over a subject this sensitive with his grandson whose opinion might just be based on popular opinions of the time.
“I don't want to argue with you on this. This is my thinking and I firmly believe that freedom was gained only because of Gandhiji efforts.” Grandfather picked up the plates from the table and headed to the kitchen. Chirag followed him in.
“And if he would have known about the condition of the country today, he would wonder why the hell did he fight for the rights of all these people. Bhagat Singh too would have revalued his decision to sacrifice his life!” Chirag finishes off his sentence with an air of disregard. The grandfather dumps the plates in the kitchen sink in anger and turns around.
“Enough Chirag! Do not cross your limits. How dare you speak about India and its condition when you are yourself leaving your family and house here, to settle in London? It’s your call whether you want to join the function or go back to sleep. Do whatever you want to do. I will go celebrate the proudest day of India.”
Chirag realized his mistakes. He had indeed taken things too far. But, this time, the grandfather was really angry and was in no mood to entertain an apology from his grandson. He soon left for the ceremony.
“Forget it,” Chirag huffed in frustration.
ACT 2:
After arguing with his grandfather, Chirag decided to go freshen up. He went to the bathroom to have a shower. He realized he had caught a mild headache due to all the arguments he ran into with his grandfather.
While in the shower, Chirag could listen to a singing voice. First, he thought it was his grandfather singing but then he realized that the voice of the singer belonged to a youngster.
“Hum bhi aaram utha sakte the ghar par rah rah kar, Humko bhi pala tha maa baap ne dukh seh seh kar.” (We could also take rest by staying at home. Our parents have also brought us up with grief.)
It is the neighbour playing this? Gradually, he realized that someone inside his house was singing.
“Waqt-e-rukhsat unhe bhi naa aaye yeh keh ka, god me ashq jo tapke kabhi rukh se beh kar. Tifl unko hi samaj lena jee behlane ko.” (At the time of leaving the home, we did not say even say to them that if the tears drop in your lap from your eyes, think as if your own child is right there in your lap.)
Chirag gently turned the tap off. A spookiness spread around him. He wore his clothes quickly and tip-toed out into the bedroom to check for an intruder.
A young boy of hardly twenty-three years wearing a white shirt, cotton pants, and a hat. The boy had a sharp moustache also which is the same shape as Bhagat Singh’s moustache. Chirag comes out.
“Excuse me! Who are you? And how did you come inside my house?” Chirag asked the boy.
The boy put his hand over the Chirag’s shoulder like a well-known acquaintance and continued singing.
“Naujawano! Jo tabiyat me tumhari khatke, yaad kar lena humko bhi bhule bhatke. Kisko parwah thi aur kisme yeh dum rakha tha. Humne jab wadi-e-gurbat me Kadam rakha tha. Dur tak yaad-e-watan aayi thi, jee behlane ko.” (O Youths! If you feel comfortable, sometimes remember us too. Who had the care and who was the brave enough to put the step in the file like us? Till farther, the fragrance of our country came to complete us.)
“Are you done with your singing? Now could you please tell me who you are?” Chirag asked.
Suddenly, Chirag looked at the door. It was still closed and locked from inside.
“How did you enter? The door is locked.? Who…? Who…? Who the hell are you?” Chirag asked in fear that he might just be seeing an apparition.
“Relax. I am your hero, your superman, Bhagat Singh. How did you not recognize me with my hat and moustache?” said the man of twenty-three.
“I can’t understand. Is it for real or am I dreaming?” Chirag asked.
“No. No. You are not dreaming. I am the soul of Bhagat Singh.”
“Okay. But what are you doing here?” Chirag gulped down some air.
“Well. I believe you and your current generation are facing some confusion and clarity issues. I am here to help with that.” Bhagat Singh replied.
“Confusions? What confusions?
“Just a while ago, you were discussing. err... I am sorry, arguing with your grandfather regarding who the real hero is between me and Gandhiji and why did Gandhiji did not save me? That confusion.”
“That’s not confusion. That is a reality that everyone has to accept.” Chirag slumped down on his bed.
A smile stretches across Bhagat Singh's face. He walks to Chirag and sits right beside him.
“So, tell me Chirag. Do you really think that Gandhiji is responsible for the current situation of our country?” the soul of the freedom fighter asked. Chirag was finding it all too difficult to believe what was happening with him. The experience was surreal. He took a deep breath.
“Of course. There are no two opinions on this.” Chirag replied.
“Hmm. And you also think that Gandhiji was responsible for my death?”
“Not really. But he could have saved you. But he didn’t. He didn’t even try. He was fond of his popularity at that time.”
“Understood. Why should Gandhiji not resolve your confusion? What do you say?” Singh smiled and Chirag could see the glimmer in his eyes.
“Really? But, how?” Chirag’s legs started shaking at the question. The possibility of another ghost in the room could mean he is truly losing his head.
“He is right there behind you.”
Chirag felt the ground slip from under his feet. He gets up and slowly turns back. He saw an old man in the attire of Gandhiji. Chirag realized that he was the soul of Gandhiji only as he saw plenty of photographs of his since childhood and the spirit looked exactly the same as the photographs and also the photo on the Indian Currency.
“Bapu? I guess I am dreaming.” Chirag murmured as he rubbed his eyes.
Gandhiji smiles as he sits on a chair right next to the bed. Chirag sits down on between the spirits of the two most famous people in Indian history.
“So, Chirag. Do you truly believe that I did not want to save him?” Gandhiji asked, pointing a finger at Bhagat Singh.
It is the universal truth that you disrespect anyone behind his/her back, but never in front of them. Chirag was speechless in the beginning.
“No no, Bapu. It’s nothing like that. I really respect you.”
Gandhiji and Bhagat Singh exchanged smiles at each other.
“Don’t be afraid. Say the truth. Bapu loves the truth and truth-seekers.” Bhagat Singh said to Chirag.
Chirag mustered up the courage, to tell the truth.
“Not only me, Bapu. The whole world believes the same. People from the yesteryears were not much educated. Our generation is smart enough to understand what is wrong and what is right.”
“You’re right my child and I respect your thinking and emotions. But always keep in mind that ‘The Tale is half told when only one person tells it.’ and ‘Half knowledge is more dangerous than zero knowledge.’ You happen to think like this because it has been represented to you in such a way through audio-visual media and print media.”
Chirag and Bhagat Singh were listening to Gandhiji very carefully.
“Now, tell me. Do you know anything about Irwin?” Gandhiji asked Chirag.
“Not really. I’ve heard his name in school.” Chirag said after much thought.
“Then, I am sure you do not have any knowledge about Gandhi-Irwin pact also. Right?”
“Quite right. I am hearing this name for the very first time.”
Bhagat Singh smiles at Gandhiji.
“Then listen to me carefully. On the 5th of March 1931, an agreement happened between me and the Viceroy of India, Lord Irwin. This was known as the ‘Gandhi-Irwin Pact’. According to the pact, once all political prisoners will be released except for those accused of violence, Indians will be given the right to make salt along the coast. We were also given the right to protest against the shops selling Indian liquor and foreign clothes. In lieu of this, we also accepted the condition that we would stop the Dandi Satyagraha which was known as Salt March and will also participate in the upcoming second round table conference in London.” Gandhiji explained.
“Round table conference?” Chirag asked.
“It was a kind of peace conference between the British Government and Indian National Congress in which they were about to discuss the constitutional reforms in India.” Bhagat Singh explained.
“Hmmm. But how is that related to Bhagat Singh's death?” Chirag was deeply curious.
“During the discussion, I also requested Irwin that Bhagat Singh and his associates Sukhdev and Rajguru should be pardoned and released from jail.” Gandhiji Said.
“So why were they not released then?” Chirag asked the two.
“Irwin's condition was that I and my companions should apologize to the British Government, which was not acceptable to us at all. Our entire lives, we had fought against them bravely, how could we beg them for our lives? We were not cowards.” Bhagat Singh replied.
“I had also requested the British Government that if they cannot release the three, then they should be given life imprisonment and not a death sentence. The British government denied that too.” Gandhiji said.
“And by the way, it never bothered me why Gandhiji did not save me. Even though both of us had different ways to claim freedom, the motive was the same - Complete freedom and fighting for the rights of Indians. We were fighting for freedom in our own ways.” Bhagat Singh explained.
Chirag could feel the seed of conviction growing inside him little by little. “But, Bhagat Singh ji, as far as I know, you were also the follower of Gandhiji when you were a kid. Am I right?”
“Of course. When I was a child, Gandhiji started the Non-Cooperation Movement, in which it was decided to boycott all foreign goods. I too took part in that movement with great enthusiasm. The movement scared the British government. That was when Gandhiji became a hero. But when a kid works hard to achieve something, how do you think he feels when he is unable to achieve it? I was too disappointed just like that. When a police station was set on fire in Chauri Chaura and 22 police officers were burnt, Gandhiji broke down and stopped the movement. My heart was broken. That day I realized one thing that if the British government has to be removed from India, there is only one way – strong offensive action. Zindgi toh apne dum par jee jaati hai, dusre ke kandho par janaze utha karte hai. (Life lives on its own, the corpse rises on the shoulders of another.)” Bhagat Sing said.
Chirag felt satisfied by Bhagat Singh’s take on the issue. He wished to know more. A sudden drive to delve into the psyche of the two unparalleled entities who once walked the face of the earth felt like an opportunity of a lifetime.
“Let me say, I do agree with the both of you, but don't you think that if we had taken this path of active action, the British might have left India a lot earlier?” Chirag asked Gandhiji.
“Absolutely. Suppose if Bhagat Singh was released, then children and young men all over the country would gather the courage to run around with guns in the country. Most of them would have lacked the sense of right or wrong and acted out of impulse, simply because they believed that no harsh punishment would be meted out to them. An atmosphere of panic would have spread in the country. Terrorism would get a boost, which may have impacted the country till date. Trust me, this country would not have seen the light of progression an advancement.” Gandhiji spoke with an inimitable calm that was almost infectious.
Chirag and Bhagat Singh nodded. Gandhiji further added, “My concern was that the freedom we sought for, should not be obtained by killing people or through any form of violence, but by following the right path that would establish our identity as Indians. Tell me Chirag, when you go abroad and you call yourself Indian, how do people react to that?” Chirag did not see it coming.
“I don’t quite get you,” Chirag replied.
“Let me explain. India today has a global reputation of being a largely peace-loving country. Even though they consider us a third world nation, our people carry an inherent quality of trust in them which makes people all around the world, warm up to Indians rather than consider them a threat.” Gandhiji smiled.
Bhagat Singh had something to say as well. “See Chirag. Everyone has the right to speak and think on his own. Some people think that Bapu could have saved me but he did not do so, because doing so would have hampered his political career. But, the true followers of Bapu along with people who have spent many years, visiting the harrowing by lanes of Indian Independence history, believe that Bapu had done all he could to save me, but he couldn’t as circumstances were not in his favour.”
“You are right, Bhagat beta. I always used to care about you.” Gandhiji's peaceful face shone with a slight unmistakable despondency.
Chirag’s thirst for answers had not yet quenched. He needed to know more. “Tell something, Bapu. You declared Satyagraha and the mantra spread like a wildfire, so why didn't you take such drastic steps to save Bhagat Singh?” Chirag asked.
“Shubhash Bose also asked me the same question. Even then I had only one answer and I shall stick by my answer even today. Even though it would be late, I wanted to get the freedom of my country by following the path of non-violence and truth. Even for a moment, I did not want to resort to non-violence by moving away from my principles and ideals.”
“When I was 22 years old, I gunned down the young police officer JP Saunders and killed him. A bomb was also hurled in the assembly by me and Batukeshwar Dutt. I realized that the British Government would never spare me. And even Bapu would not appreciate such actions. So, I never even questioned as to why he did not try harder to save me.”
“I tried to convince Irwin a lot, not even as a political leader, but also as a human being. In the pact, big decisions were going to be made for the good future of the country and a lot of peace and patience were needed to save Bhagat Singh. Nevertheless, going against the pact, I explained to Irwin for two hours that he should postpone Bhagat’s death sentence for a few days so that I could get more time to save him.” Gandhiji said.
Bhagat Singh and Chirag were listening intently. Gandhiji continued.
“I pleaded Irwin to see this case as a humanitarian issue. Because I believe that every person born on this earth must get a chance to redeem himself, even if he is a murderer.”
“But Irwin was helpless too. From 1922 to 1924 several Hindu-Muslim communal riots had occurred in India. 11 riots in 1923, 18 in 1925, 35 in 1926 and 31 till November 1927. After Irwin became Viceroy in 1926, about 40 communal riots took place.” Bhagat Singh interjected.
“I also fasted for 21 days after the 1926 Kohat riots. To prevent all this, a compromise with Irwin was the need of the hour. Before the Karachi session which was to begin in Lahore from March 26, 1931, I requested a lot to postpone the execution, but Irwin did not accept. He felt that doing so was out of his power and scope. I sent Tej Bahadur Sapru, Jaykar aur Srinivas Shastri to him too many times to convince Irwin, but Irwin was adamant on his words. I had even sent a message to Irwin that the Congress government will have to be hanged before the three boys are executed.” Gandhiji explained. Chirag noticed Gandhiji's eyes turn moist as he spoke. Bhagat Singh went ahead and held his hand to console him. Chirag noticed how both Gandhiji and Bhagat Singh were deeply respectful of each other.
“Can I tell you something interesting, Chirag? Do you know what the British Government used to think of me?” Bhagat Singh asked.
“Yes. That you are a hero, who threatened the British Government and if you were alive, it would have been difficult for them to live in India.”
Bhagat Singh laughs.
“Why? Am I wrong?”
“Not exactly. They used to consider me a terrorist and a butcher who murdered a man, and that too a police officer.”
“What? Are you serious?” Chirag felt deeply angry.
“They could, Chirag. They could. It’s a matter of someone’s opinion. Bhagat Singh killed their police officer and bombed an assembly. For Indians, he was a hero since he did it out of protest, for the Britishers, he was a terrorist as he was a threat to their lives. We have to respect all ideologies keeping in mind the sides we belong to. I have also unknowingly made many mistakes, which I accept. I was just a human being trying to help my country.” Gandhiji explained.
“How do you feel Chirag when you are trying to do something whole-heartedly in your office and your boss comes and insults you in front of everyone?” Bhagat Singh asked.
“Well, I will be embarrassed and angry. How dare he do that? I will be completely disappointed and discouraged. I would have wanted to kill him too.” Chirag replied.
“See? You get insulted in front of a few people; you get angry. Ever wondered what would have happened to Bapu's condition at that time?” Bhagat Singh asked.
Chirag nodded.
“After our death, the whole country turned against Bapu. When he went to Karachi after my death, thousands of people were shouting by raising slogans of "Gandhi Murdabad" (Down with Gandhism) and “Bhagat Singh Zindabaad, Sukhdev Zindabaad, Rajguru Zindabaad.” (Long live Bhagat Singh, Sukhdev, and Rajguru) and welcomed Bapu with black flags and roses made of black cloth. Now you think, a person works so hard, his appeals turned down by the British government, that too not for his benefit, but to save me and my friends. And in the end, the very people of his country malign and disregard him. Was it fair?” Bhagat Singh questioned.
Chirag looked down in guilt. How was he different from all those people? He had the same opinions as well. He started crying. Bhagat Singh stood up and embraced him. Wrapped in the warmth of his embraced, Chirag sobbed like a child.
“But, Bapu, you too had to request the British Government and bow before them to plead for the release of my hero.” Chirag spoke in a shaky voice.
Gandhiji smiled at Bhagat Singh. It was indeed strange to see a young man as old as Chirag behave like a child.
“Don’t cry, beta. I tried a lot of harsh ways too. I will show you something. Just bring me your mobile phone.”
Chirag wipes his tears off and grabs his mobile phone lying on the study table. Bhagat Singh took the opportunity to smile and wink at Gandhiji, who acknowledged.
Chirag brought his phone.
“Search about the letter which I wrote to Irwin which I had sent on 23rd March 1931.” Gandhiji suggested.
Chirag rampantly searched for the same all over the web. Plenty of articles and blogs were found regarding the letter which was sent to Irwin. Chirag clicks on a link and read the content of the letter. It said,
M. K. Gandhi
1 DARYAGANJ, DELHI,
March 23, 1931
The Viceroy,
Govt. of India.
DEAR FRIEND,
It seems cruel to inflict this letter on you, but the interest of peace demands a final appeal. Though you were frank enough to tell me that there was little hope of your commuting the sentence of death on Bhagat Singh and two others, you said you would consider my submission of Saturday. Dr. Sapru met me yesterday and said that you were troubled over the matter and taxing your brain as to the proper course to adopt. If there is any room left for reconsideration, I invite your attention to the following.
Popular opinion rightly or wrongly demands commutation. When there is no principle at stake, it is often a duty to respect it.
In the present case the chances are that, if commutation is granted, internal peace is most likely to be promoted. In the event of execution, peace is undoubtedly in danger.
Seeing that I am able to inform you that the revolutionary party has assured me that, in the event of these lives being spared, that party will stay its hands, suspension of sentence pending cessation of revolutionary murders becomes, in my opinion, a peremptory duty.
Political murders have been condoned before now. It is worthwhile saving these lives if thereby many other innocent lives are likely to be saved and maybe even revolutionary crime almost stamped out.
Since you seem to value my influence such as it is in favour of peace, do not please unnecessarily make my position, difficult as it is, almost too difficult for future work.
Execution is an irretrievable act. If you think there is the slightest chance of error of judgment, I would urge you to suspend for further review an act that is beyond recall.
If my presence is necessary, I can come. Though I may not speak I may hear and write what I want to say.
“Charity never faileth.”
I am,
Your sincere friend,
M. K. Gandhi
As soon as Chirag finished reading the letter, he realized his mistake. His eyes fill with tears. Bhagat Singh and Gandhiji, both come up close to him and comfort him by placing their hands on his shoulders.
“Bapu, I do not deserve it, but if you can, please forgive me. I promise you that henceforth, I will never say anything wrong about anyone without knowing the complete truth. I will always follow your ideals and principals.” Chirag pleaded.
“There is no need for it, son. Don't make me your god, just make sure you turn into a good human being.” Gandhiji saintly smile filled Chirag’s heart with light.
Chirag gently raised his right arm to his forehead and salute the extraordinary in the two legends.
“Hey! Give me some time. I'll be here in two minutes. Please be here only, please.” Chirag said.
“Why? Where are you going?” Bhagat Singh asked.
“Don’t worry. I want to take you both to an amazing place and I'm sure you will like it.” Chirag replied.
Bhagat Singh and Gandhiji shared a confused look. Chirag ran upstairs to his room.
Bhagat Singh started humming another song. This time it was Mera Rang De Basanti Chola. Gandhiji was smiling at him.
“Bhagat, my son. May I ask you something?” Gandhiji asked.
“Sure Bapu.”
“Do you really believe that I was not at fault?”
“Yes, Bapu. It was not your fault. You are and forever will be, my first superhero.”
Gandhiji seemed a bit relaxed.
“Nevertheless, if I have made a mistake, then consider me as human being and forgive me.”
“No Bapu. You are older than me and I would request you to not apologize to me.”
“When I was alive, I had a desire to meet you once, I could convince you like my son that your path is wrong. But I could not get the chance. Today, my wish to meet you is complete. I will pray to God that in the next life you should be born as my son.” Gandhiji said.
“No, Bapu. I do not want to be your son.” Bhagat sing responded.
“But, why?”
“Because, I would rather love to be born as your friend,” Bhagat folded his hands as he looked straight at the austere man. To this, Gandhiji laughed and soon the two hugged each other.
Chirag came down from his room after changing his clothes. He put on a kurta and Pajama, and jutted before the two.
“How do I look?” Chirag asked.
“Like a true Indian.” Both Gandhiji and Bhagat Singh replied together.
“Thank you! Now, let’s go. We need to hurry or the program might just end.” Chirag said.
The three of them left the house to attend the flag ceremony function which was held at the Garden area of Chirag’s society.
ACT 3:
Chirag reached the garden area of his society along with Bhagat Singh and Gandhiji. The garden was decorated with orange, white and green balloons to represent the iconic tricolour that characterizes the Indian flag. The Indian flag was tied at the top of a mast which was to be unfolded by the chief guest of the ceremony. The photographs of various freedom fighters including Gandhiji, Bhagat Singh, Jawahar Lal Nehru, Sardar Patel, Raani Laxmi Bai etc, were displayed near the stage. There were many children and teenagers who were dressed like the Indian freedom fighters, soldiers, army and navy officers.
Chirag noticed that his grandfather was busy with making the arrangements for the function. He decided not to disturb him.
“Let’s go inside. A flag hoisting ceremony is going to take place soon. We always celebrate our Independence Day and the Republic Day in the same way.” Chirag said.
Bhagat Singh and Gandhiji entered the venue.
The chief guest of the function had not arrived yet. Various competitions had been arranged including elocution competition, Patriotic songs singing competition, Fancy Dress competition, Drawing Competition and debate competition.
Bhagat Singh and Gandhiji felt good upon seeing the enthusiasm of the people to celebrate Independence Day. Chirag could swear they were beaming with pride internally.
A BMW car arrived at the gate of the garden. Shortly, two bodyguards got out of the car. One of them opened the back door of the car. A man with a moustache, wearing a Khadi kurta and Pajama came out from the car. The man was the MLA (Member of the Legislative Assembly) of the district who was also the chief guest of the event.
The secretory and other well-known residents of the society went near the gate to welcome the MLA. The secretory welcomed the MLA with a flower bouquet and he was taken to the stage.
Bhagat Singh, Gandhiji, and Chirag were looking at the high-profile reception that the chief guest was receiving.
“Everyone, please settle down and let’s welcome our chief guest, Mr. Arvind. Soon, we will start the flag hoisting. Everyone should stand up while we recite our national anthem. I would like to request you, Mr. Arvind, to come here and hoist our Tiranga (National flag of India)” The secretary announced.
The MLA walked towards the mast; pulled the rope and the flag started fluttering in the wind. Everyone saluted the fluttering national flag by looking at it without blinking and recited the national anthem ‘Jana Gana Mana’. Bhagat Singh and Gandhiji joined in.
Chirag could hardly focus on the national flag. He kept looking on his left to check out the reactions of the real chief guests! He believed they were relieving their moments of pride from the past as the song was sung.
Bhagat Singh was probably recalling his life events including, the Massacre of people at Jaliyawala Baagh, his participation in the non-cooperation movement, meeting with Chandrashekhar Azad and taking an oath to sacrifice his life for the freedom of India, Boycotting Simon commission, death of Lala Lajpat Ray, killing JP Saunders, refusing to get married, chopping off his hairs to prevent himself from getting caught by the police, throwing bombs at the Parliament Assembly, fasting for 116 days during the Lahore Conspiracy case and Trial to consider him and his fellow freedom fighters as ‘Political Prisoners’ of and the execution on 23rd March, 1931.
On the other end, Gandhiji might have recalled his life events which included being thrown out from the first-class carriage of a train at Pietermaritzburg Station, opposing the Black act at Johannesburg, meeting with Jawaharlal Nehru for the first time at Lucknow Congress, establishment of Sabarmati Ashram and Gujarat Vidhyapith at Ahmedabad, starting the Non-Corporation movement, imprisonment at Yerwada jail, publishing his autobiography ‘Satya Na Prayogo’ (The Story of My Experiments with Truth, boycott of Simon Commission, Dandi March, signing Gandhi-Irwin Pact, Quit India Movement, accepting the resolution of the India-Pakistan Partition, three bullets being fired on his chest by Nathuram Godse.
As soon as the national anthem finished, Chirag opens his eyes.
“So, how did you find the event?” Chirag asked.
There was no reply. He looked around and realized that his special guests had left He wondered where did they go. Chirag runs towards the gate and gets hold of a kid who was playing nearby. He asked him if he had seen Gandhiji and Bhagat Singh. The kid nodded and pointed at the garden. Chirag looked behind to find tiny Gandhijis and Bhagat Singhs loitering around in their attires. He soon realized how stupid his question was.
He ran towards the main entrance gate of the society to find out where and why did Bhagat Singh and Gandhiji leave. When he reached the main entrance, he was unable to find both of them. Though his heart sank, he was convinced that he was visited by the spirits of the two men who had helped changed Indian history.
Chirag walked back inside the society pensive. He again looked back at the gate in the hope of seeing Bhagat Singh and Gandhiji one more time. But as his dadu would say, good things are only meant to last for a little while.
Chirag looked up and read the board on the backside of the society name signage. ‘Thanks for Visiting’, it read.
Although Chirag had seen the board plenty of times, it did really mean sometime that day. It was an experience he could never share with another person as he would never find a believer. But he was glad that what started as a drab morning, turned out to be the most enriching experience of his life.
