Lesson 3: The Passing Away of Bapu by Nayantara Sehgal | Bapu

The author and the text:

Nayantara Sehgal (1927- ) is one of the first female Indian writers in English to receive wide recognition. Her fiction deals with India’s response to the crisis brought about by political changes. She won the Sahitya Academy award in 1986 for her novel Rich like Us.

The text, an extract from Nayantara Sehgal’s memoir Prison and Chocolate cake, recounts the incidents following the death of Gandhiji. It vividly describes not only the author’s personal sense of loss, but also the collective grief of the entire nation at the passing away of Mahatma Gandhi.

Unit 1

I was having tea at home on the evening of 30th January, 1948, when I was called to Birla house by an urgent telephone. Gandhiji had been shot on his way to a prayer meeting. I was numb with shock as I got into the car.

⧧⧝ā§Ēā§Ž āϏāĻžāϞ⧇ ā§Šā§ĻāĻļ⧇ āϜāĻžāύ⧁āϝāĻŧāĻžāϰāĻŋ āϏāĻ¨ā§āĻ§ā§āϝāĻžāϝāĻŧ āφāĻŽāĻŋ āϝāĻ–āύ āϚāĻž āĻ–āĻžāĻšā§āĻ›āĻŋāϞāĻžāĻŽ, āĻāĻ•āϟāĻŋ āϜāϰ⧁āϰāĻŋ āĻĢā§‹āύ⧇āϰ āĻŽāĻžāĻ§ā§āϝāĻŽā§‡ āφāĻŽāĻžāϕ⧇ āĻŦāĻŋāĻĄāĻŧāϞāĻž āĻšāĻžāωāϏ⧇ āĻĄāĻžāĻ•āĻž āĻšāϝāĻŧ āĨ¤ āĻāĻ•āϟāĻŋ āĻĒā§āϰāĻžāĻ°ā§āĻĨāύāĻž āϏāĻ­āĻžāϝāĻŧ āϝ⧋āĻ— āĻĻ⧇āĻ“āϝāĻŧāĻžāϰ āϏāĻŽāϝāĻŧ āĻ—āĻžāĻ¨ā§āϧāĻŋāϜāĻŋ āϗ⧁āϞāĻŋāĻŦāĻŋāĻĻā§āϧ āĻšāϝāĻŧ⧇āϛ⧇āύ āĨ¤ āĻāχ āφāĻ•āĻ¸ā§āĻŽāĻŋāĻ• āφāϘāĻžāϤ⧇ āĻŦāĻŋāĻŦāĻļ āĻšāϝāĻŧ⧇ āφāĻŽāĻŋ āĻ—āĻžāĻĄāĻŧāĻŋāϤ⧇ āωāĻ āϞāĻžāĻŽ āĨ¤

At the Birla House, Gandhiji’s relatives and followers had gathered round his body. There was silence in the room as Gandhiji breathed his last. Words of Bapuji’s death had spread through Delhi like a flame fanned by wind. Sad groups of men and women had collected around Birla House. Out of every window one could see a brown blur of faces. They did not make a sound. There was an unnatural silence. It was as if time stood still for those few minutes.

āĻŦāĻŋāĻĄāĻŧāϞāĻž āĻšāĻžāωāϏ⧇ āĻ—āĻžāĻ¨ā§āϧāĻŋāϜāĻŋāϰ āφāĻ¤ā§āĻŽā§€āϝāĻŧ āĻ“ āĻ…āύ⧁āĻ—āĻžāĻŽā§€āϰāĻž āϤāĻžāϰ āĻŽā§ƒāϤāĻĻ⧇āĻšā§‡āϰ āϚāĻžāϰāĻĒāĻžāĻļ⧇ āĻ­āĻŋāĻĄāĻŧ āĻ•āϰ⧇ āĻĻāĻžāĻĄāĻŧāĻŋāϝāĻŧ⧇āĻ›āĻŋāϞ āĨ¤ āĻ—āĻžāĻ¨ā§āϧāĻŋāϜāĻŋ āĻļ⧇āώ āύāĻŋāσāĻļā§āĻŦāĻžāϏ āĻ¤ā§āϝāĻžāĻ— āĻ•āϰ⧇āϛ⧇āύ āĻāχ āϘāϟāύāĻž āϘāϰ⧇ āύāĻŋāĻ¸ā§āϤāĻŦā§āϧāϤāĻž āύāĻŋāϝāĻŧ⧇ āĻāϏ⧇āϛ⧇ āĨ¤ āĻšāĻžāĻ“āϝāĻŧāĻžāϝāĻŧ āϝ⧇āĻŽāύ āĻĻā§āϰ⧁āϤ āφāϗ⧁āύ āĻ›āĻĄāĻŧāĻžāϝāĻŧ āϤ⧇āĻŽāύāĻŋ āĻŦāĻžāĻĒ⧁āϰ āĻŽā§ƒāĻ¤ā§āϝ⧁āϰ āĻ–āĻŦāϰāĻ“ āĻĻāĻŋāĻ˛ā§āϞāĻŋ āϜ⧁āĻĄāĻŧ⧇ āĻ›āĻĄāĻŧāĻŋāϝāĻŧ⧇ āĻĒāĻĄāĻŧ⧇āĻ›āĻŋāϞ āĨ¤ āĻŦāĻŋāώāĻŖā§āĻŖ āĻĒ⧁āϰ⧁āώ āĻ“ āĻŽāĻšāĻŋāϞāĻžāϰ āĻĻāϞ āĻŦāĻŋāĻĄāĻŧāϞāĻž āĻšāĻžāωāϏ⧇ āĻ­āĻŋāĻĄāĻŧ āϜāĻŽāĻžāĻšā§āĻ›āĻŋāϞ āĨ¤ āĻĒā§āϰāϤāĻŋāϟāĻŋ āϜāĻžāύāĻžāϞāĻž āĻĻāĻŋāϝāĻŧ⧇āχ āĻĻ⧇āĻ–āĻž āϝāĻžāĻšā§āĻ›āĻŋāϞ āĻŦāĻžāĻĻāĻžāĻŽāĻŋ āϰāϙ⧇āϰ āĻ…āĻ¸ā§āĻĒāĻˇā§āϟ āĻŽāĻžāύ⧁āώ⧇āϰ āĻŽā§āϖ⧇āϰ āĻ­āĻŋāĻĄāĻŧ āĨ¤ āϤāĻžāϰāĻž āϕ⧋āύ⧋ āĻļāĻŦā§āĻĻ āĻ•āϰāĻ›āĻŋāϞ āύāĻž āĨ¤ āĻāĻ• āĻ…āĻ¸ā§āĻŦāĻžāĻ­āĻžāĻŦāĻŋāĻ• āύ⧀āϰāĻŦāϤāĻž āĻŦāĻŋāϰāĻžāϜ āĻ•āϰāĻ›āĻŋāϞ āĨ¤ āĻŽāύ⧇ āĻšāĻšā§āĻ›āĻŋāϞ āĻ“āχ āĻ•āϝāĻŧ⧇āĻ• āĻŽāĻŋāύāĻŋāĻŸā§‡āϰ āϜāĻ¨ā§āϝ āϏāĻŽāϝāĻŧ āĻĨāĻŽāϕ⧇ āϗ⧇āϛ⧇ āĨ¤

The people were too stunned to speak in the beginning. Later they clamoured wildly, shouting and crying. They jostled one another in a stampede to break into the house. They calmed a little when it was announced that they would be allowed to see Gandhiji before the funeral.

āĻļ⧁āϰ⧁āϰ āĻĻāĻŋāϕ⧇ āĻŽāĻžāύ⧁āώ āĻāϤāϟāĻžāχ āĻšāϤāĻ­āĻŽā§āĻŦ āĻšāϝāĻŧ⧇ āĻ—āĻŋāϝāĻŧ⧇āĻ›āĻŋāϞ āϝ⧇ āĻ•āĻĨāĻž āĻŦāϞāϤ⧇ āĻĒāĻžāϰāĻ›āĻŋāϞ āύāĻž āĨ¤ āϤāĻžāϰāĻĒāϰ āϤāĻžāϰāĻž āϤ⧁āĻŽā§āϞ āϚāĻŋā§ŽāĻ•āĻžāϰ āĻ•āϰāϤ⧇ āĻļ⧁āϰ⧁ āĻ•āϰāϞ āφāϰ āĻ•āĻžāĻĻāϤ⧇ āϞāĻžāĻ—āϞ āĨ¤ āϤāĻžāϰāĻž āĻŦāĻžāĻĄāĻŧāĻŋāϤ⧇ āĻĸā§‹āĻ•āĻžāϰ āϜāĻ¨ā§āϝ āĻšā§āĻĄāĻŧā§‹āĻšā§āĻĄāĻŧāĻŋ āĻ•āϰ⧇ āĻāϕ⧇ āĻ…āĻĒāϰāϕ⧇ āϠ⧇āϞāĻžāϠ⧇āϞāĻŋ āĻ•āϰāĻ›āĻŋāϞ āĨ¤ āϝāĻ–āύ āĻāϟāĻž āĻ˜ā§‹āώāĻŖāĻž āĻšāϞ āϝ⧇ āĻ…āĻ¨ā§āĻ¤ā§āϝ⧇āĻˇā§āϟāĻŋāĻ•ā§āϰāĻŋāϝāĻŧāĻžāϰ āφāϗ⧇ āĻ—āĻžāĻ¨ā§āϧāĻŋāϜāĻŋāϕ⧇ āĻĻ⧇āĻ–āϤ⧇ āĻĻ⧇āĻ“āϝāĻŧāĻž āĻšāĻŦ⧇ āϤāĻžāϰāĻž āĻāĻ•āϟ⧁ āĻļāĻžāĻ¨ā§āϤ āĻšāϞ āĨ¤

When one is faced with the shock of a loved one’s death, one whimpers: “What will become of me now that he has left me?” This was surely the question uppermost in the mind of the mourning people. They looked like lost children. It was the question in many of our hearts as we sat, still shocked and unbelieving. We listened to the broadcast telling the people of India that their Bapu was no more.

āĻŽāĻžāύ⧁āώ āϝāĻ–āύ āĻ­āĻžāϞ⧋āĻŦāĻžāϏāĻžāϰ āϕ⧋āύ⧋ āϞ⧋āϕ⧇āϰ āĻŽā§ƒāĻ¤ā§āϝ⧁āϜāύāĻŋāϤ āĻļā§‹āϕ⧇āϰ āĻŽā§āĻ–ā§‹āĻŽā§āĻ–āĻŋ āĻšāϝāĻŧ, āϗ⧁āĻ™āĻŋāϝāĻŧ⧇ āĻ“āϠ⧇: “āϤāĻŋāύāĻŋ āϤ⧋ āφāĻŽāĻžāϝāĻŧ āϛ⧇āĻĄāĻŧ⧇ āϚāϞ⧇ āϗ⧇āϞ⧇āύ, āφāĻŽāĻžāϰ āϕ⧀ āĻšāĻŦ⧇? ” āĻļā§‹āĻ•āĻžāĻ°ā§āϤ āĻŽāĻžāύ⧁āώāϗ⧁āϞ⧋āϰ āĻŽāĻžāĻĨāĻžāϝāĻŧ āύāĻŋāĻļā§āϚāĻŋāϤāĻ­āĻžāĻŦ⧇ āĻāχ āĻĒā§āϰāĻļā§āύāϟāĻŋāχ āϘ⧁āϰāĻ›āĻŋāϞ āĨ¤ āϤāĻžāĻĻ⧇āϰ āĻšāĻžāϰāĻŋāϝāĻŧ⧇ āϝāĻžāĻ“āϝāĻŧāĻž āĻļāĻŋāĻļ⧁āĻĻ⧇āϰ āĻŽāϤ⧋ āĻĻ⧇āĻ–āĻžāĻšā§āĻ›āĻŋāϞ | āĻāχ āĻāĻ•āχ āĻĒā§āϰāĻļā§āύ āφāĻŽāĻžāĻĻ⧇āϰ āĻ…āύ⧇āϕ⧇āϰ āĻšā§ƒāĻĻāϝāĻŧ⧇āĻ“ āĻ›āĻŋāϞ, āϝāĻžāϰāĻž āϤāĻ–āύāĻ“ āĻŽāĻ°ā§āĻŽāĻžāĻšāϤ āĻ…āĻŦāĻ¸ā§āĻĨāĻžāϝāĻŧ āĻŦāϏ⧇āĻ›āĻŋāϞāĻžāĻŽ āφāϰ āĻŦāĻŋāĻļā§āĻŦāĻžāϏ āĻ•āϰ⧇ āωāĻ āϤ⧇ āĻĒāĻžāϰāĻ›āĻŋāϞāĻžāĻŽ āύāĻž āĨ¤ āφāĻŽāϰāĻž āϰ⧇āĻĄāĻŋāĻ“āϝāĻŧ āĻ˜ā§‹āώāĻŖāĻž āĻļ⧁āύāϞāĻžāĻŽ āĻ­āĻžāϰāϤāĻŦāĻžāϏ⧀āϕ⧇ āĻŦāϞāĻž āĻšāĻšā§āϛ⧇ āϝ⧇ āϤāĻžāĻĻ⧇āϰ āĻŦāĻžāĻĒ⧁ āφāϰ āύ⧇āχ āĨ¤

Unit 2

Gandhiji’s funeral was to take place the day after his death. Hours in advance, people lined the route the funeral procession was to follow.Padmasi, Mrs Naidu’s daughter, spoke for us all when she said simply: we will walk. It is the last time we shall be walking with Bapu.

It was an agonizing walk. Thousands silently watched the procession. Bapu lay on an open truck covered with flowers. Thousands of people wept, trying to touch Bapu’s feet. It was impossible to move in the thick crowd.

āĻŽā§ƒāĻ¤ā§āϝ⧁āϰ āĻĒāϰ⧇āϰ āĻĻāĻŋāύāχ āĻ—āĻžāĻ¨ā§āϧāĻŋāϜāĻŋāϰ āĻ…āĻ¨ā§āĻ¤ā§āϝ⧇āĻˇā§āϟāĻŋ āĻ•ā§āϰāĻŋāϝāĻŧāĻž āĻšāĻ“āϝāĻŧāĻžāϰ āĻ•āĻĨāĻž āĻ›āĻŋāϞāĨ¤ āϤāĻžāϰ āĻŦāĻšā§ āφāϗ⧇ āĻĨ⧇āϕ⧇āχ āĻŽāĻžāύ⧁āώāϜāύ āϝ⧇ āĻĒāĻĨ⧇ āĻ—āĻžāĻ¨ā§āϧāĻŋāϜāĻŋāϰ āĻŽā§ƒāϤāĻĻ⧇āĻš āϝāĻžāĻŦ⧇ āϏ⧇āĻ–āĻžāύ⧇ āĻ­āĻŋāĻĄāĻŧ āĻ•āϰ⧇ āĻĻāĻžāρāĻĄāĻŧāĻŋāϝāĻŧ⧇āĻ›āĻŋāϞ | āĻļā§āϰ⧀āĻŽāϤ⧀ āύāĻžāχāĻĄāĻŧāϰ āĻŽā§‡āϝāĻŧ⧇ āĻĒāĻĻā§āĻŽāĻļā§€ āϖ⧁āĻŦ āϏāĻšāϜāĻ­āĻžāĻŦ⧇ āφāĻŽāĻžāĻĻ⧇āϰ āϏāĻŦāĻžāϰ āĻ•āĻĨāĻžāϟāĻž āĻŦāϞāϞ⧇āύ: āφāĻŽāϰāĻž āĻšāĻžāρāϟāĻŦāĨ¤ āĻāχ āĻļ⧇āώāĻŦāĻžāϰ āφāĻŽāϰāĻž āĻŦāĻžāĻĒ⧁āϰ āϏāĻ™ā§āϗ⧇ āĻšāĻžāρāϟāĻŦāĨ¤

āĻāϟāĻž āĻ›āĻŋāϞ āĻāĻ•āϟāĻž āϝāĻ¨ā§āĻ¤ā§āϰāĻŖāĻžāĻĻāĻžāϝāĻŧāĻ• āĻšāĻžāρāϟāĻžāĨ¤ āĻšāĻžāϜāĻžāϰ āĻšāĻžāϜāĻžāϰ āĻŽāĻžāύ⧁āώ āύāĻŋāĻ¸ā§āϤāĻĻā§āϧāĻ­āĻžāĻŦ⧇ āϏ⧇āχ āĻļāĻžā§‡āĻ• āĻŽāĻŋāĻ›āĻŋāϞ⧇āϰ āĻĻāĻŋāϕ⧇ āϤāĻžāĻ•āĻŋāϝāĻŧ⧇āĻ›āĻŋāϞāĨ¤ āĻāĻ•āϟāĻŋ āĻ–āĻžā§‡āϞāĻž āĻŸā§āϰāĻžāϕ⧇āϰ āĻŽāĻ§ā§āϝ⧇ āĻĢ⧁āϞ⧇ āĻĸāĻžāĻ•āĻž āĻ—āĻžāĻ¨ā§āϧāĻŋāϜāĻŋ āĻļāĻžāϝāĻŧāĻŋāϤ āĻ›āĻŋāϞ⧇āύāĨ¤ āĻŽāĻžāύ⧁āώāϜāύ āĻ•āĻžāρāĻĻāϤ⧇ āĻ•āĻžāρāĻĻāϤ⧇ āĻŦāĻžāĻĒ⧁āϰ āĻĒāĻž-āϟ⧁āϕ⧁ āĻ¸ā§āĻĒāĻ°ā§āĻļ āĻ•āϰāĻžāϰ āĻšā§‡āĻˇā§āϟāĻž āĻ•āϰāĻ›āĻŋāϞāĨ¤ āĻāχ āĻĒā§āϰāϚāĻŖā§āĻĄ āĻ­āĻŋāĻĄāĻŧ⧇āϰ āĻŽāĻ§ā§āϝ⧇ āĻšāĻžāρāϟāĻž āĻ…āϏāĻŽā§āĻ­āĻŦ āĻšāϝāĻŧ⧇ āωāϠ⧇āĻ›āĻŋāϞāĨ¤

As I moved forward slowly I understood I was not merely in the midst of grieving people. This was even more than the funeral procession of India’s beloved leader. I was among people for whom walking with Bapu had a special meaning. We had walked with Bapu over the rough and smooth of India’s recent history. We could not now accept the fact that the man who had led us over many difficult paths, was never going to walk with us again. Bapu’s slight figure had walked, staff in hand, over a large part of India. To walk is to make slow progress. It is to think with clarity and closely look at all that is around you, from small insects to the horizon in the distance. Moreover, to walk was often the only way open to the average Indian. It required no vehicle except his own body and cost him nothing but his energy. Gandhiji took this necessity, as he took much that was commonplace and transformed it into a joyful effort.

āϧ⧀āϰ⧇ āϧ⧀āϰ⧇ āĻšāĻžāρāϟāϤ⧇ āĻ—āĻŋāϝāĻŧ⧇ āφāĻŽāĻŋ āĻŦ⧁āĻāϤ⧇ āĻĒāĻžāϰāĻ›āĻŋāϞāĻžāĻŽ āϝ⧇ āφāĻŽāĻŋ āĻļ⧁āϧ⧁ āĻ•āϤāϗ⧁āϞāĻŋ āĻļāĻžā§‡āĻ•āĻžāĻ°ā§āϤ āĻŽāĻžāύ⧁āώ⧇āϰ āĻŽāĻ§ā§āϝ⧇ āύ⧇āχāĨ¤ āĻ­āĻžāϰāϤāĻŦāĻ°ā§āώ⧇āϰ āĻĒā§āϰāĻŋāϝāĻŧ āύ⧇āϤāĻžāϰ āĻļ⧇āώāϝāĻžāĻ¤ā§āϰāĻžāϰ āĻĨ⧇āϕ⧇āĻ“ āĻāϟāĻž āφāϰāĻ“ āĻŦ⧇āĻļāĻŋ āĻ•āĻŋāϛ⧁ āĻ›āĻŋāϞāĨ¤ āφāĻŽāĻŋ āϤāĻžāĻĻ⧇āϰ āϏāĻ™ā§āϗ⧇ āĻšāĻžāρāϟāĻ›āĻŋāϞāĻžāĻŽ, āϝāĻžāĻĻ⧇āϰ āĻ•āĻžāϛ⧇ āĻŦāĻžāĻĒ⧁āϰ āϏāĻ™ā§āϗ⧇ āĻšāĻžāρāϟāĻžāϟāĻž āĻāĻ•āϟāĻž āĻŦāĻŋāĻļ⧇āώ āĻ…āĻ°ā§āĻĨ āĻŦāĻšāύ āĻ•āϰāϤāĨ¤ āĻ­āĻžāϰāϤ⧇āϰ āϏāĻžāĻŽā§āĻĒā§āϰāϤāĻŋāĻ• āχāϤāĻŋāĻšāĻžāϏ⧇ āφāĻŽāϰāĻž āĻŦāĻžāĻĒ⧁āϰ āϏāĻ™ā§āϗ⧇ āĻ…āύ⧇āĻ• āĻŦāĻ¨ā§āϧ⧁āϰ āĻ“ āĻŽāϏ⧃āĻŖ āĻĒāĻĨ āĻšā§‡āρāĻŸā§‡āĻ›āĻŋāĨ¤ āφāĻŽāϰāĻž āĻŦāĻŋāĻļā§āĻŦāĻžāϏāχ āĻ•āϰāϤ⧇ āĻĒāĻžāϰāĻ›āĻŋāϞāĻžāĻŽ āύāĻž, āϝ⧇ āĻŽāĻžāύ⧁āώāϟāĻž āφāĻŽāĻžāĻĻ⧇āϰ āĻŦāĻšā§ āĻ•āĻ āĻŋāύ āĻĒāĻĨ⧇ āύ⧇āϤ⧃āĻ¤ā§āĻŦ āĻĻāĻŋāϝāĻŧ⧇āϛ⧇āύ āϤāĻŋāύāĻŋ āφāϰ āφāĻŽāĻžāĻĻ⧇āϰ āϏāĻ™ā§āϗ⧇ āĻšāĻžāρāϟāĻŦ⧇āύ āύāĻžā§ˇ āĻ­āĻžāϰāϤ⧇āϰ āĻŦāĻŋāĻ¸ā§āϤ⧀āĻ°ā§āĻŖ āĻ…āĻ‚āĻļ⧇ āĻĒāĻžāϤāϞāĻž āĻšā§‡āĻšāĻžāϰāĻžāϰ āĻŦāĻžāĻĒ⧁ āϞāĻžāĻ āĻŋ āĻšāĻžāϤ⧇ āĻšā§‡āρāĻŸā§‡āĻ›āĻŋāϞ⧇āύāĨ¤ āĻšāĻžāρāϟāĻž āĻŽāĻžāύ⧇ āϧ⧀āϰ⧇ āĻāĻ—āĻŋāϝāĻŧ⧇ āϝāĻžāĻ“āϝāĻŧāĻžāĨ¤ āĻāϤ⧇ āĻĒāϰāĻŋāĻˇā§āĻ•āĻžāϰāĻ­āĻžāĻŦ⧇ āϚāĻŋāĻ¨ā§āϤāĻž āĻ•āϰāĻž āϝāĻžāϝāĻŧ āĻ“ āĻ•āĻžāĻ› āĻĨ⧇āϕ⧇ āϚāĻžāϰāĻĻāĻŋāϕ⧇ āĻ›āĻžā§‡āĻŸā§‹ āĻĒāĻžā§‡āĻ•āĻžāĻŽāĻžāĻ•āĻĄāĻŧ āĻĨ⧇āϕ⧇ āĻĻā§‚āϰ⧇āϰ āĻĻāĻŋāĻ—āĻ¨ā§āϤ āϰ⧇āĻ–āĻž āĻ…āĻŦāϧāĻŋ āϏāĻŦāĻ•āĻŋāϛ⧁ āĻĻ⧇āĻ–āĻž āϝāĻžāϝāĻŧāĨ¤ āĻ āĻ›āĻžāĻĄāĻŧāĻžāĻ“ āϏāĻžāϧāĻžāϰāĻŖ āĻ­āĻžāϰāϤāĻŦāĻžāϏ⧀āϰ āϜāĻ¨ā§āϝ āĻĒā§āϰāĻžāϝāĻŧāĻļ āĻšāĻžāρāϟāĻžāχ āĻ›āĻŋāϞ āĻāĻ•āĻŽāĻžāĻ¤ā§āϰ āωāĻĒāĻžāϝāĻŧāĨ¤ āĻšāĻžāρāϟāĻžāϰ āϜāĻ¨ā§āϝ āύāĻŋāĻœā§‡āϰ āĻĻ⧇āĻš āĻ›āĻžāĻĄāĻŧāĻž āϕ⧋āύāĻžā§‡ āĻŦāĻžāĻšāύ āϞāĻžāϗ⧇ āύāĻž āĻāĻŦāĻ‚ āύāĻŋāĻœā§‡āϰ āĻļāĻ•ā§āϤāĻŋ āĻ›āĻžāĻĄāĻŧāĻž āφāϰ āϕ⧋āύāĻžā§‡ āĻŽā§‚āĻ˛ā§āϝāĻ“ āĻĻāĻŋāϤ⧇ āĻšāϝāĻŧ āύāĻžāĨ¤ āĻ—āĻžāĻ¨ā§āϧāĻŋāϜāĻŋ āφāϰāĻ“ āĻ…āύ⧇āĻ• āϏāĻžāϧāĻžāϰāĻŖ āϜāĻŋāύāĻŋāϏ⧇āϰ āĻŽāϤāĻžā§‡ āĻšāĻžāρāϟāĻžāϰ āĻ…āĻ­ā§āϝāĻžāϏāϕ⧇āĻ“ āĻĒā§āϰāϝāĻŧāĻžā§‡āϜāύ⧀āϝāĻŧāϰ⧂āĻĒ⧇ āĻ—ā§āϰāĻšāĻŖ āĻ•āϰ⧇āĻ›āĻŋāϞ⧇āύ āĻāĻŦāĻ‚ āĻāϕ⧇ āĻāĻ•āϟāĻŋ āφāύāĻ¨ā§āĻĻāĻŽāϝāĻŧ āĻĒā§āϰāĻšā§‡āĻˇā§āϟāĻžāϝāĻŧ āĻĒāϰāĻŋāĻŖāϤ āĻ•āϰ⧇āĻ›āĻŋāϞ⧇āύāĨ¤

Unit 3

Some days after the funeral, a special train took Gandhiji’s ashes to Allahabad. The compartment was decked with flowers. People on the train sang bhajans. People did not weep anymore for they could feel Gandhiji’s presence amid the flowers and the songs. At every station sorrowful crowds filled the platform. Amid song and prayer the train reached Allahabad. The ashes were immersed in the Ganges where a huge crowd had gathered at the bank. Afterwards we all went back to Delhi.

āĻ…āĻ¨ā§āĻ¤ā§āϝ⧇āĻˇā§āϟāĻŋāϰ āĻ•āϝāĻŧ⧇āĻ•āĻĻāĻŋāύ āĻĒāϰ⧇ āĻāĻ•āϟāĻŋ āĻŦāĻŋāĻļ⧇āώ āĻŸā§āϰ⧇āύ⧇ āĻ•āϰ⧇ āĻ—āĻžāĻ¨ā§āϧāĻŋāϜāĻŋāϰ āϚāĻŋāϤāĻžāĻ­āĻ¸ā§āĻŽ āĻāϞāĻžāĻšāĻžāĻŦāĻžāĻĻ⧇ āύāĻŋāϝāĻŧ⧇ āϝāĻžāĻ“āϝāĻŧāĻž āĻšāϝāĻŧ⧇āĻ›āĻŋāϞāĨ¤ āĻ•āĻžāĻŽāϰāĻžāϟāĻŋ āĻĢ⧁āϞ āĻĻāĻŋāϝāĻŧ⧇ āϏāĻžāϜāĻžāύāĻžā§‡ āĻ›āĻŋāϞāĨ¤ āĻŸā§āϰ⧇āύ⧇āϰ āĻŽāĻžāύ⧁āώāϜāύ āĻ­āϜāύ āĻ—āĻžāχāĻ›āĻŋāϞāĨ¤ āĻŽāĻžāύ⧁āώāϜāύ āφāϰ āĻ•āĻžāĻĻāĻ›āĻŋāϞ āύāĻž āĻ•āĻžāϰāĻŖ āϤāĻžāϰāĻž āϏ⧇āχ āĻĢ⧁āϞ āφāϰ āĻ—āĻžāύ⧇āϰ āĻŽāĻ§ā§āϝ⧇ āĻ—āĻžāĻ¨ā§āϧāĻŋāϜāĻŋāϰ āωāĻĒāĻ¸ā§āĻĨāĻŋāϤāĻŋ āĻ…āύ⧁āĻ­āĻŦ āĻ•āϰāϤ⧇ āĻĒāĻžāϰāĻ›āĻŋāϞāĨ¤ āĻĒā§āϰāϤāĻŋāϟāĻŋ āĻ¸ā§āĻŸā§‡āĻļāύ⧇āϰ āĻĒā§āĻ˛ā§āϝāĻžāϟāĻĢāĻ°ā§āĻŽāχ āĻļāĻžā§‡āĻ•āĻžāĻ°ā§āϤ āĻŽāĻžāύ⧁āώ⧇āϰ āĻ­āĻŋāĻĄāĻŧ⧇ āĻĒāϰāĻŋāĻĒā§‚āĻ°ā§āĻŖ āĻ›āĻŋāϞāĨ¤ āĻ—āĻžāύ āĻ“ āĻĒā§āϰāĻžāĻ°ā§āĻĨāύāĻžāϰ āĻŽāĻ§ā§āϝ⧇ āĻĻāĻŋāϝāĻŧ⧇ āĻŸā§āϰ⧇āύāϟāĻŋ āĻāϞāĻžāĻšāĻžāĻŦāĻžāĻĻ⧇ āĻĒ⧌āρāĻ›āĻžāϞāĨ¤ āĻ—āĻžāĻ¨ā§āϧāĻŋāϜāĻŋāϰ āϚāĻŋāϤāĻžāĻ­āĻ¸ā§āĻŽ āĻ—āĻ™ā§āĻ—āĻžāϰ āϜāϞ⧇ āĻŦāĻŋāϏāĻ°ā§āϜāύ āĻĻ⧇āĻ“āϝāĻŧāĻž āĻšāϞ, āύāĻĻā§€āϰ āϧāĻžāϰ⧇ āϤāĻ–āύ āĻŦāĻšā§ āĻŽāĻžāύ⧁āώ⧇āϰ āĻ­āĻŋāĻĄāĻŧāĨ¤ āĻāϰāĻĒāϰ āφāĻŽāϰāĻž āĻĻāĻŋāĻ˛ā§āϞāĻŋāϤ⧇ āĻĢāĻŋāϰ⧇ āφāϏāĻŋāĨ¤

Back in Delhi, I felt at sea. I had not directly walked with Gandhiji, gone to prison at his call or made any sacrifice for my country. My sisters and I, and other young people like me, had been merely onlookers. But still i felt at sea. I felt I had grown up within a magic circle. With Bapu’s passing away, I felt the magic circle had vanished, leaving me unprotected. 

āĻĻāĻŋāĻ˛ā§āϞāĻŋāϤ⧇ āĻĢāĻŋāϰ⧇ āĻāϏ⧇ āφāĻŽāĻŋ āϝ⧇āύ āϕ⧇āĻŽāύ āĻĻāĻŋāĻļ⧇āĻšāĻžāϰāĻž āĻŦāĻžā§‡āϧ āĻ•āϰāĻ›āĻŋāϞāĻžāĻŽāĨ¤ āφāĻŽāĻŋ āĻ—āĻžāĻ¨ā§āϧāĻŋāϜāĻŋāϰ āϏāĻ™ā§āϗ⧇ āϏāϰāĻžāϏāϰāĻŋ āĻšāĻžāρāϟāĻŋāύāĻŋ, āϤāĻžāϰ āĻĄāĻžāϕ⧇ āĻœā§‡āϞ⧇ āϝāĻžāĻ“āϝāĻŧāĻž āĻŦāĻž āĻĻ⧇āĻļ⧇āϰ āϜāĻ¨ā§āϝ āϕ⧋āύāĻžā§‡ āĻ¸ā§āĻŦāĻžāĻ°ā§āĻĨāĻ¤ā§āϝāĻžāĻ— āĻ•āϰāĻŋāύāĻŋāĨ¤ āφāĻŽāĻŋ, āφāĻŽāĻžāϰ āĻŦāĻžā§‡āύ⧇āϰāĻž āĻāĻŦāĻ‚ āĻ…āĻ¨ā§āϝāĻžāĻ¨ā§āϝ āĻ…āĻ˛ā§āĻĒāĻŦāϝāĻŧāĻ¸ā§āĻ• āĻŽāĻžāύ⧁āώ āĻļ⧁āϧ⧁ āĻĒā§āϰāĻ¤ā§āϝāĻ•ā§āώāĻĻāĻ°ā§āĻļā§€ āĻ›āĻŋāϞāĻžāĻŽāĨ¤ āϤāĻŦ⧁āĻ“ āφāĻŽāĻŋ āĻ…āĻĨ⧈ āϏāĻŽā§āĻĻā§āϰ⧇ āĻĒāĻĄāĻŧ⧇āĻ›āĻŋāϞāĻžāĻŽāĨ¤ āφāĻŽāĻžāϰ āĻŽāύ⧇ āĻšāĻšā§āĻ›āĻŋāϞ āφāĻŽāĻŋ āϕ⧋āύāĻžā§‡ āĻāĻ• āϜāĻžāĻĻ⧁āĻŦ⧃āĻ¤ā§āϤ⧇āϰ āĻŽāĻ§ā§āϝ⧇ āĻŦ⧇āĻĄāĻŧ⧇ āωāϠ⧇āĻ›āĻŋāϞāĻžāĻŽāĨ¤ āĻŦāĻžāĻĒ⧁āϰ āĻŽā§ƒāĻ¤ā§āϝ⧁āϰ āϏāĻ™ā§āϗ⧇ āϏāĻ™ā§āϗ⧇ āĻŽāύ⧇ āĻšāϞ āϏ⧇āχ āϜāĻžāĻĻ⧁āĻŦ⧃āĻ¤ā§āϤ āωāϧāĻžāĻ“ āĻšāϝāĻŧ⧇ āϗ⧇āϛ⧇, āφāĻŽāĻžāϕ⧇ āĻ…āϏ⧁āϰāĻ•ā§āώāĻŋāϤ āĻ…āĻŦāĻ¸ā§āĻĨāĻžāϝāĻŧ āϰ⧇āϖ⧇āĨ¤

With an effort I roused myself. I asked myself-had Bapu lived and died for nothing? How could I so easily lose courage when he was no longer there? My values were not so weak. Millions of people would have been ordinary folk but for Bapu. He brought them out of indifference and awakened them to one another’s suffering. What if now Bapu is gone? We were still there, young, strong and proud to bear his banner before us. 

āĻšā§‡āĻˇā§āϟāĻž āĻ•āϰ⧇ āφāĻŽāĻŋ āφāĻŦāĻžāϰ āĻļāĻ•ā§āϤāĻŋ āϜ⧁āĻ—āĻŋāϝāĻŧ⧇ āύāĻŋāĻœā§‡āϕ⧇ āĻĻāĻžāρāĻĄāĻŧ āĻ•āϰāĻžāϞāĻžāĻŽāĨ¤ āφāĻŽāĻŋ āύāĻŋāĻœā§‡āϕ⧇ āϜāĻŋāĻœā§āĻžā§‡āϏ āĻ•āϰāϞāĻžāĻŽâ€”āĻŦāĻžāĻĒ⧁ āĻ•āĻŋ āĻļ⧁āϧ⧁āĻļ⧁āϧ⧁āχ āĻŦ⧇āρāĻšā§‡āĻ›āĻŋāϞ⧇āύ āφāϰ āĻāĻŽāύāĻŋ āĻāĻŽāύāĻŋ āĻŽāĻžāϰāĻž āϗ⧇āϞ⧇āύ? āωāύāĻŋ āϝāĻ–āύ āφāϰ āύ⧇āχ āϤāĻ–āύ āĻāϤ āϏāĻšāĻœā§‡ āφāĻŽāĻŋ āϕ⧀ āĻ•āϰ⧇ āϏāĻžāĻšāϏ āĻšāĻžāϰāĻžāϞāĻžāĻŽ? āφāĻŽāĻžāϰ āĻŽā§‚āĻ˛ā§āϝāĻŦāĻžā§‡āϧ āĻāϤ āĻĻ⧁āĻ°ā§āĻŦāϞ āĻ›āĻŋāϞ āύāĻžāĨ¤ āĻŦāĻžāĻĒ⧁ āύāĻž āĻĨāĻžāĻ•āϞ⧇ āϞāĻ•ā§āώ āϞāĻ•ā§āώ āĻŽāĻžāύ⧁āώ āύāĻŋāϤāĻžāĻ¨ā§āϤāχ āϏāĻžāϧāĻžāϰāĻŖ āĻŽāĻžāύ⧁āώ āĻšāϝāĻŧ⧇ āϰāϝāĻŧ⧇ āϝ⧇āϤāĨ¤ āϤāĻŋāύāĻŋ āϤāĻžāĻĻ⧇āϰāϕ⧇ āύāĻŋāĻ°ā§āϞāĻŋāĻĒā§āϤāϤāĻž āĻĨ⧇āϕ⧇ āϤ⧁āϞ⧇ āĻāύ⧇ āĻāϕ⧇ āĻ…āĻĒāϰ⧇āϰ āĻ•āĻˇā§āĻŸā§‡ āϏāĻšā§‡āϤāύ āĻ•āϰ⧇āĻ›āĻŋāϞ⧇āύāĨ¤ āĻŦāĻžāĻĒ⧁ āϚāϞ⧇ āϗ⧇āϞ⧇āχ āĻŦāĻž āϕ⧀ āĻšāϝāĻŧ⧇āϛ⧇? āφāĻŽāϰāĻž āϤāϰ⧁āĻŖ, āĻļāĻ•ā§āϤāĻŋāĻļāĻžāϞ⧀ āĻ“ āĻ—āĻ°ā§āĻŦāĻŋāϤāϰāĻž āϤāĻžā§‡ āĻāĻ–āύāĻ“ āϰāϝāĻŧ⧇āĻ›āĻŋ āϤāĻžāϰ āĻĒāϤāĻžāĻ•āĻž āĻŦāĻšāύ āĻ•āϰāĻžāϰ āϜāĻ¨ā§āϝāĨ¤Â 

Bapu had passed away but his India would continue to live in his children.

āĻŦāĻžāĻĒ⧁ āĻŽāĻžāϰāĻž āϗ⧇āϛ⧇āύ āĻ•āĻŋāĻ¨ā§āϤ⧁ āϤāĻžāϰ āĻ­āĻžāϰāϤ āϤāĻžāρāϰāχ āϏāĻ¨ā§āϤāĻžāύāĻĻ⧇āϰ āĻŽāĻ§ā§āϝ⧇ āĻŦ⧇āρāĻšā§‡ āĻĨāĻžāĻ•āĻŦ⧇āĨ¤

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