Greatness personified

I have just finished reading Gandhi: Naked Ambition, by Jad Adams. I confess that when it landed on my table, I did not want to read it. What is there about Gandhi that we do not know? All he said is there in the Collected Works of Mahatma Gandhi and hundreds of biographies, including two autobiographies. At the best, it could be the personal opinion of the author who had, per force, to rely on the published material. What provoked me to read it was the subtitle: Naked Ambition. It was deliberately provocative. So was the introduction, in which he drew attention to a couple of contradictions in statements made by the Mahatma. Then I could not stop till I reached the last page. I realized that the author, who is a historian and a biographer, is also a television producer. He knows the art of holding a reader’s interest.

So there is more than necessary written about the Mahatma’s eccentricities, his experiments with diet, his obsession with bowel movements (he took an enema every day and readily gave it to his women disciples as well) and his sex life. He had sex only with one woman — his illiterate wife, Kasturba, whom he treated as an object of lust. But he was attracted to a lot of young women; Sarala Devi Chaudhurani, niece of Rabindranath Tagore, married to a Punjabi, who he described as his “spiritual wife” and even toyed with the idea of a polygamous union. There were Madeleine Slade (Miraben), Sushila Nayar, Abha and Manu Gandhi and a few others. He liked to be massaged by them, have them sleep naked, have them bathe with him stark naked and rest his hands on their shoulders when he walked. Many of his admirers were scandalized by his aberrations, and told him so on his face. He justified himself by saying that they were experiments in his quest to control his lust (vikar).

Adams uses his material deftly and succeeds in holding the readers’ attention while narrating the more important aspects of the Mahatma’s life, from the childhood days in Kathiawar to the three years in England to becoming a barrister, to the many long stays in South Africa where he clarified his views on satyagraha and suffered many humiliations at the hands of Whites as well as his own countrymen. And back to India to be acclaimed as the Mahatma who chalked the path to India’s freedom. It is as good a refresher course to events of his life as any I have read. Far from being a critic, which I first suspected, Adams turns out to be a Gandhibhakta.

Mohandas Karamchand Gandhi was a callous husband and father of four sons. Nevertheless, he was a mahatma — great soul — who has left his name to posterity as one of the greatest of the great men in the history of humanity.

Windy protest

Breaking wind loudly in public is bad manners, and not considered proper to be mentioned in polite society. However, when it happens, there is hardly anyone who can keep a straight face and not burst out laughing. The same happened to me when I read of the incident reported in a Swedish newspaper, The Local, published in Malmö and reproduced in London’s Private Eye a couple of weeks ago. Swedes are not famous for their sense of humour and probably did not see it as anything to laugh about, but I could not control myself. See if you can. The report reads: “I have worked within the Prisons and on probation service since 1986,” warden Anders Erikson told reporters at Kirseberg prison in Malmö, “and in all that time I have never experienced such disgraceful behaviour. For several weeks the prisoner has been repeatedly voicing his discontent with the system by deliberately approaching staff and passing wind in front of them. My colleagues and I have all suffered, and although we have never before punished a prisoner for flatulence, we have now issued him with an official reprimand, and a warning against future flatulent conduct.”

The unnamed prisoner later protested his innocence, claiming: “I am not making a political protest. It’s just that prison food doesn’t agree with my colon, and I have had an upset stomach and difficult bowels for the past month. Last week, I was playing cards with other prisoners and I didn’t want to fart in front of them, so I walked over to the other side of the room where the guards were before letting rip, and they took that as a mark of disrespect which is ridiculous. I told them that my farts are all noise and no fragrance, but I’ve now been given an official warning and threatened with punishment if I persist.”

Lost battle

Santa told his son, Ghanta: “If you fail in your exam the third time, then you will never call me your Papa again. When Ghanta came home after the results were announced, he told Santa: “You have lost the right to call yourself my Papa.”

(Contributed by J.P. Singh Kaka, Bhopal)