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Ghandian Legacy Tour: Part Two New Year’s Day: The tsunami, ever in the forefront of our thoughts on this journey, has forced our group to take an unscheduled flight from Mumbai (Bombay) to Pune. The grandson of the “Mahatma,” Arun Gandhi, is seated behind me decked out in a colorful, but tasteful, Hawaiian shirt. His attire isn’t exactly what I’d have expected from this soft-spoken torchbearer for nonviolence, but already on this trip I’ve learned how easily expectations can be obliterated (see Part One—CPF September 05 newsletter). My 6’ 8” frame is crammed into an economy seat on the tiny plane. Fingering the lever, I contemplate a swift recline and wonder what our tour leader’s nonviolent response would be to a sudden seat invasion of his knees. Decided this would not be a good way to start my 2005, not a good moment for my pilgrimage-to- peace highlight reel. I decided to suffer in silence, keeping in mind what Martin Luther King, Jr. said about “unearned suffering” (it’s redemptive). After the flight I unfolded and boarded a bus to Sangli. Fortunately leg room was substantial, for the ride was nearly ten hours long. I was blessed throughout the trip to have the notorious Jesuit priest John Dear as my roommate. This bus ride was our first opportunity to have a real conversation and I reveled in his tales of bold, public nonviolent witness, civil disobedience (one particular act being a “plowshares” action with Phillip Berrigan), and advice on how to go deeper into the philosophy and lifestyle myself. Our conversations turned out to be among the true highlights of the trip for me. I am forever grateful for the time I had in John’s company. The sun had long disappeared from the sky by the time we finally arrived at our first stop, a humble “slum school” in Koihapur where we were swarmed by hundreds of villagers and children who’d been waiting hours for our arrival. Their enthusiasm had not waned during the wait. I immediately felt at home and was overwhelmed by the hospitality and love, yes love, which emanated from a people without artifice. In English, well-rehearsed “Happy New Year’s” and handshakes came my way by the dozens. A local newspaper reporter pulls me aside and asks for my impressions, and I have only one word for him: “Beautiful.” I knew not what I was seeing. It was later explained that the school as well as the organic farm, weaver’s cooperative, “eye hospital”, and home building unit we visited over the course of the next couple of days were all part of an organization called the Verala Development Society. This group, brought together in 1969, has been carrying on the Gandhian legacy, putting the idea of the “constructive program” into action. Our tour throughout India had us visit many such groups including W.I.T. (Women’s India Trust), Marketplace of India, Navdanya Farm (where we met Vandana Shiva, the “seed activist” seen in The Corporation), and the Environmental Sanitation Institute (which included a brief audience with the President of India, Abdul Kalam, who kind of looked like the fifth beetle—but never mind...). We visited a village sponsored by S.E.W.A. (Self Employed Women’s Association) and were greeted with great songs and fine food. We were told how last year’s tour group witnessed the troubles the village had with a dried-up well. They were moved and proceeded to raise funds so that the well could be dug deeper. After a few tugs at the pump handle I was awe-inspired to see water flowing fast and forceful, the direct effect of concern put into action. Here I was beginning to feel less like the tourist of days before and more like a member of a vast large community of care, responsibility, and trust. When asked, Arun said that he wanted the tours to be more than just sightseeing. His hope is that relationships will develop across oceans and beyond borders. We all have a role in carrying on the legacy of his grandfather; all have a part to play. When we recognize that we are all brothers and sisters, it logically follows that we cannot allow others to wallow in poverty. If we are to live in King’s fabled “World House,” those with privilege must help those without. It is essential. If one is not able to alleviate directly the suffering of the poor, one can support the grass roots organizations that do. It was with that in mind that our tour group decided to take on the responsibility of raising funds to support the programs we’d experienced. We pledged in the military town of Dehradun to be bearers of this hard knowledge and speak for the voiceless; indeed to “be the change we wish to see in the world.” A few of us could and would go a step further. A vibrant, young participant named Ellie had an extended visa and would return to Ahmedabab to volunteer at the Sabarmati Ashram’s “Manav Sadha” program which schools and feeds over 4000 children in the surrounding slums. The Sabarmati Ashram, also known as “Satyagraha Ashram” was where Mohandas K. Gandhi launched the 240 mile “salt march” in 1930. I felt honored to be able to walk a part of that earth and see sights similar to those that inspired him. Arun’s son, Tushar Gandhi, met with us and spoke on the current politics of India. As an organizer of the 75th anniversary re-enactment of the “salt march,” he encouraged us to return and participate. Some from our group would. Continuing our pilgrimage to the historic sights related to Gandhi’s life, we visited “Mani Bhavan”, Gandhi’s Mumbai residence from 1917-1934. It was noted that when Martin Luther King, Jr. visited the location in 1959 he requested time alone in the room where Gandhi would write and work the spinning wheel. The famous civil-rights leader would end up spending the night there. My cheerful request for similar accommodations was politely declined. Instead the tour group would do a minimal amount of time at the Aga Khan Palace where M.K. Gandhi was imprisoned from August 1942-May 1944. Arun informed us that his grandmother Kasturba went to prison here with Mohandas, along with his personal secretary Desai. Both Kasturba and Desai would die there. As we overlooked the site of their cremation we were asked to contemplate the difficulty, pain, and commitment to the cause that dying in jail requires and to remember these two too-often forgotten martyrs of the struggle for Indian independence. At “Birla House” in Delhi, Gandhi would spend the final 144 days of his life. Nary a week had gone by since a bombing gone awry left the “Mahatma” weakened but unbowed. It was on his walk toward evening prayers when Gandhi met his fate. An assassin had slipped though the crowd. Three shots were fired. With a prayer for his killer and the name of God on his lips, Mohandas K. Gandhi was felled. A simple sparse monument marks the spot of his martyrdom. As our bus pulled away from this sacred place, I noted with grim irony the armory and military barracks located directly across the street. A choice modern India has apparently made: the rejection of Gandhi’s nonviolence and the poison embrace of the militarism of the West. On the 31st of January 1948, less than 24 hours after his death, one million mourners joined the funeral procession through the streets of New Delhi to the Raj Ghat, site of Gandhi’s cremation. Our brief visit was solemn and memorable. Each member of the tour took a quiet moment to bow, pray, and pay their respects before the large black marble marker and the eternal flame situated behind it. Mohandas Karamchand Gandhi: The Mahatma, or “Great Soul”; “Father of the nation.” Revered and honored around the world. Often thought otherworldly, and thus unattainable, Gandhi has been worshipped like a god, much like Jesus. And like Jesus, put on a pedestal and not followed. My understanding, though it may be flawed, is that this is a grave mistake. If I have learned anything on this pilgrimage, this journey towards nonviolence, it’s that he was a human being of real flesh and blood with all the faults and foibles of you and me and anyone; that what he accomplished was not due to some special talents or gifts, but a passion well applied, true unwavering dedication, an indomitable will, and pure spirit of love. The example of Gandhi’s life has taught me thus. Visiting the historic sites related to his life has solidified this for me. More so, witnessing the programs that carry on Gandhi’s work, that put his philosophy into practice has relieved me of any feelings of helplessness and hopelessness I may have had. I realize that from here on I have no choice but to be an instrument for truth and nonviolence in the pursuit of justice and peace. Namaste’ my friends. Robert Daniels II For a list of resources or for information on how to contribute to these grass roots social programs in India please contact me through LEPOCO or directly through e-mail rhubarbdoom@hotmail.com or by regular mail: 138 High St., Jim Thorpe, PA 18229 |