<p>Those who admire Gandhi seek neither improvement nor change. They ask for transformation — that is, a thorough change of the human soul in a new civilisation. Transformation is not necessarily related to the future. It can happen in the immediate present during moments of love, admiration of nature, and caring for the universe in a mature manner — moments wherein desire is replaced by contentment in the human heart. Poets, lovers, and mad mystics have all achieved this — even if for a fleeting moment — in human history.</p>.<p>There is a photograph of Gandhi that I like immensely. In it, his bald head is slightly inclined to the right, the eyes behind the spectacles are peacefully shut and the body is bare. Not an extra ounce of fat is on his body. It projects a kind of tranquillity that could be ours in a moment of concentrated satisfaction. Nothing could be more difficult than this.</p>.<p>Gandhi desired transformation — of the human soul, and of society. He made no distinctions between the ills of society and those of the human heart. He even located the evil of British imperialism in the heart of the Indian. If the British looked down upon us, so did we as Indians look down upon our own people as untouchables. Gandhi visualised the imperialist streak within the core of the human heart. This streak dehumanises both the master and the slave. The oppressed is capable of realising his dignity the moment he rejects his low state. But the oppressor cannot do so easily. Gandhi had such pity for those obese with power. He attended to them as a doctor does to the patient. He treated viceroys in the same manner and made Lord Mountbatten drink goat’s milk.</p>.Balancing act.<p>Who can humiliate a man who has conquered the fear of death? Gandhi had prepared himself to accept this for the sake of truth. The combination of joy and courage that such an attitude produces in one leaves one beautiful — something that can be seen in Gandhi himself. It is said that only Chaplin apart from children could smile like that. For Gandhi, a struggle was not a stern-faced affair. The Dandi March is a shining example of how a man who has conquered fear can be lively, cheerful and peaceful. Such a soul can fight the empire with supreme calm of mind. He could stitch footwear for General Smuts who jailed him, and show sympathy to the English Emperor who he said had enough clothing and more for both.</p>.<p>Politically, Gandhi considered imperialism to be the biggest enemy of life. His dislike of it was so deep that he looked into the depths of the human mind as none had done before to remove it from human consciousness itself. He saw the imperialist streak in man’s desire to conquer nature, in his sexuality that was unbridled and in his craving for material comforts. In fact, he saw in it the modern economic system itself. He saw desire as a demon that would convert man into a demon gradually. A consciousness of death that evades us is also responsible for such a state of mind. His rejection of imperialism was so total that he possessed nothing more than a loincloth. He ate less and worked more, suggesting the possibility of ignoring the master, and the idea of rejecting the all-pervasive state. If we were to control our desires, we would also learn the art of triumphing over the oppressive state. Gandhi clarified for us the truth that life, far from being a rejection of pleasure, was a way of being contented until death.</p>.<p><em>(This is part of a transcript of a talk URA gave over Akashvani. It originally appeared in Purvapara, an anthology of essays from 1990.)</em></p>.<p><strong>Translated by N Manu Chakravarthy</strong></p>.<p>Excerpted with permission from the chapter 'Gandhi's Triumph over the Fear of Death' from The Essential U R Ananthamurthy, edited by N Manu Chakravarthy and Chandan Gowda and published by Aleph Book Company.</p>
<p>Those who admire Gandhi seek neither improvement nor change. They ask for transformation — that is, a thorough change of the human soul in a new civilisation. Transformation is not necessarily related to the future. It can happen in the immediate present during moments of love, admiration of nature, and caring for the universe in a mature manner — moments wherein desire is replaced by contentment in the human heart. Poets, lovers, and mad mystics have all achieved this — even if for a fleeting moment — in human history.</p>.<p>There is a photograph of Gandhi that I like immensely. In it, his bald head is slightly inclined to the right, the eyes behind the spectacles are peacefully shut and the body is bare. Not an extra ounce of fat is on his body. It projects a kind of tranquillity that could be ours in a moment of concentrated satisfaction. Nothing could be more difficult than this.</p>.<p>Gandhi desired transformation — of the human soul, and of society. He made no distinctions between the ills of society and those of the human heart. He even located the evil of British imperialism in the heart of the Indian. If the British looked down upon us, so did we as Indians look down upon our own people as untouchables. Gandhi visualised the imperialist streak within the core of the human heart. This streak dehumanises both the master and the slave. The oppressed is capable of realising his dignity the moment he rejects his low state. But the oppressor cannot do so easily. Gandhi had such pity for those obese with power. He attended to them as a doctor does to the patient. He treated viceroys in the same manner and made Lord Mountbatten drink goat’s milk.</p>.Balancing act.<p>Who can humiliate a man who has conquered the fear of death? Gandhi had prepared himself to accept this for the sake of truth. The combination of joy and courage that such an attitude produces in one leaves one beautiful — something that can be seen in Gandhi himself. It is said that only Chaplin apart from children could smile like that. For Gandhi, a struggle was not a stern-faced affair. The Dandi March is a shining example of how a man who has conquered fear can be lively, cheerful and peaceful. Such a soul can fight the empire with supreme calm of mind. He could stitch footwear for General Smuts who jailed him, and show sympathy to the English Emperor who he said had enough clothing and more for both.</p>.<p>Politically, Gandhi considered imperialism to be the biggest enemy of life. His dislike of it was so deep that he looked into the depths of the human mind as none had done before to remove it from human consciousness itself. He saw the imperialist streak in man’s desire to conquer nature, in his sexuality that was unbridled and in his craving for material comforts. In fact, he saw in it the modern economic system itself. He saw desire as a demon that would convert man into a demon gradually. A consciousness of death that evades us is also responsible for such a state of mind. His rejection of imperialism was so total that he possessed nothing more than a loincloth. He ate less and worked more, suggesting the possibility of ignoring the master, and the idea of rejecting the all-pervasive state. If we were to control our desires, we would also learn the art of triumphing over the oppressive state. Gandhi clarified for us the truth that life, far from being a rejection of pleasure, was a way of being contented until death.</p>.<p><em>(This is part of a transcript of a talk URA gave over Akashvani. It originally appeared in Purvapara, an anthology of essays from 1990.)</em></p>.<p><strong>Translated by N Manu Chakravarthy</strong></p>.<p>Excerpted with permission from the chapter 'Gandhi's Triumph over the Fear of Death' from The Essential U R Ananthamurthy, edited by N Manu Chakravarthy and Chandan Gowda and published by Aleph Book Company.</p>