The Mahabharata has influenced the lives of Indians

through the ages in some particular way. Writes V.S.

Sukthankar about the importance of the epic for Indians:

Next to the Vedas, it is the most valuable product

of the entire literature of ancient India. Venerable

for its very antiquity, it is one of the most

inspiring monuments of the world and an inexhaustible

mine for the investigation of the religion,

mythology, legend, philosophy, law, custom and

political and social institutions of ancient India . . . (Deshpande 1) .

Its characters denote and illustrate certain sharply

definable qualities that we see so often in life irrespective

of the age in which we live. Says Deshpande: "Call a man

Bhishma, Karna or Abhiimanyu and any Indian will immediately

understand your estim.ate of the character of the person

concerned" (3). That Thalroor living in the twentieth century

should look towards the ancient epic for inspiration is hardly

surprising as innumerable literary works have been inspired by

the episodes from the Mahabhar* - even from the days of Bhasa

(circa B C 400) 1 2 ) . According to E. P. Rice, the Mahabharata

which is often considered as a "literary monster," is four

times as big as Valmiki's - RaInayana, eight times the size of

the Iliad and the Odyssey - put together, and three and a half

times the entire Bible. As the highly acclaimed Critical

Edition states, it contains about 73,900 couplets. The

northern and southern recensions which differ in some respects

with each other have 82,136 and 95,585 stanzas respectively

(Despande 3) . Even though most scholars have pronounced it impossible

for a single author to create such a voluminous work alone, in

the epic itself at least three poets are mentioned as having a

definite hand in its composition. According to Deshpande:

[the Mahabharata] -- . . . was composed by Vyasa, the

natura: grandfather of the heroes and villains of the

epic, in 24,000 verses working on the talk for three

years. The epic was then taught to five of his pupils

who made their: own recensions. One of these five,

Vaisampayana recited it on the occasion of the

serpent sacrifice performed by King Janamejaya, the

great grandson of the heroes in the presence of the

original author who was the grandfather of the great-

grandfather of the host. Lomaharsana heard it and in

his turn sang it in the 12 year sacrificial session

of a sage Saunaka in the Naimisa forest.

Vyasa's original worl.: as taught to Vaisampayana and other

pupils have been lost. The epic we have at present is in

dialogic form between Vaisampayana and Janamejaya which itself

is reported to Sage Saunaka by the bard Sauti (Deshpande 7 ) .

Although Dahlmann upholds the theory of single authorship

for the epic, Winternitz blasts it:

In truth, he who would believe . . . that our

Mahabharata in its present form, is the work of one

single man, would be forced to the conclusion that

this man was, at one and the same time, a great poet

and a wretched scribbler, a sage and an idiot, a

talented artist and a ridiculous pedant - apart

from the fact that this marvellous person must have

known and confessed the most antagonistic religious

views and the most contradictory philosophical

doctrines (Deshpande 9).

Even though controversy rages regarding the probable date

of composition of the epic, Deshpande points out the

references to the Yavanas or Greeks as definite indicators

that it cannot have beer1 composed before the fourth century

B C. He therefore states that the date of composition of the

Mahabharata must be placed between 400 B C and A D 400.

Scholars have clearly identified what has come to be

regarded as southern and northern recensions of the epic. And

understandably, they have been far from pleased with either of

them as they have been al-leged to be biased in favour of the

religious interests of some particular group over the other.

It was M. Winternitz who first pointed to the need of a

critical edition of the Mahabharata at the Eleventh -

International Congress of Orientalists held at Paris in 1897.

It was the Bhandarkar Oriental Research Institute of Poona

which undertook the task of preparing the Critical Edition of

the Mahabharata in 1918. It was under V.S. Sukthankar's

supervision that the work was completed in 1966. As Sukthankar

himself states, the Critical Edition has taken into

consideration ail the important versions of the epic, with

critical footnotes. He therefore calls it 'a veritable

thesaurus of the Mahabharata tradition" (Deshpande 11). --

As we have had a dip of knowledge regarding the various

versions of the Mahabharata, -- which being one of the primary

target texts of Tharoor's parody, is vital for an

understanding of the GIN, we should now revert our attention

to M.K. Gandhi and all tinat he signifies, for equally central

to our study is the fragile figure on the pedestal whom

Tharoor has sought to demolish through his parodic art: the

man whom Tagore chose to call the Mahatma.

Tharoor's Ganga Datta, a subversive representation of

Bhishma, is first introduced to us as a "handsome lad" brought

home by King Shantanu and ma'3e the heir-apparent. At this

stage the reader is provided with no inkling of his future

Gandhian stature, except for the occasional appearance (in Ved

Vyas' narration) of Gandhian vocabulary such as 'satyagrahis'

in an essentially epic milieu. Images and subtle reminders of

the influence of the Raj often crisscross in the background.

Gangaji, also like Gandhiji, immersed himself in the

Vedas and the works of Tolstoy, Manu and Ruskin. Like the

latter, the former also renounces sex. Gangaji also believes

in the efficacy of enernas (like Gandhiji himself). Again, the

physical descript~on of Gangaji subverts all the glory which

any fictional or hist'oriographic depiction of Gandhiji had

claimed till date, for Ganga Datta is as thin 'as a papaya

plant," balder then than the narrator Ved Vyas himself was in

his old age, "peering at you through horn-rimmed glasses that

gave him the iook of a startled owl" (35). He is also

described as the "saint:ly loinc1,oth-clad figure" ( 4 4 ) , and 'a

star - hairless, bon.y, enema-taking, toilet-cleaning Ganga,

with his terrible vow of celibacy ..." (GIN 52).

The British Resjdont Sir Richard is irritated at

Gangaji's seditious speeches and his rhetoric about equality

and justice. He does not understand why the crown prince is

bent on doing what the 'untouchables' used to do; that is,

insisting on cleaning his own toilet. Sir Richard, also, does

not approve of Gangaji inviting an 'untouchable' each week to

his room for a meal with him. Sir Richard's attitude in this

respect is understandabLe as the British as a colonizing power

in India had made it their official policy not to disturb the

social fabric of Indian society which, divided as it was on

the lines of caste and religion, suited them eminently.

Presently, as Gangaji endeavours to break the centuries-old

invisible divisive walls of Indian society, Sir Richard's

exasperation is very real. The British themselves, as will be

seen later on in this thesis, strove to distance themselves

from the natives.

Gandhiji's penchant for recording every detail of his

personal life is r~diculed by Tharoor:

What a :life Gangaji led, and how we know of it, for

in the end he spared us no detail of it, did he, not

a single thought: or fear or dream went unrecorded,

not one hope or lie or enema (46).

The narrator Ved Vyas wonders how Gangaji even in the midst of

his busy life managed to write his innumerable letters to his

disciples, critics, government officials and others, and how

he managed to communicate his ideas to 'every prospective

biographer or journalist" (46) even by means of writing with a

pencil-stub on the backs of envelopes, a habit the father of

the nation is known for. Gandhiji's practice of sleeping naked

with young women in order to test the strength of his celibacy

is also alluded to. 'Tharclor also refers to Gangaji's birth

centenary which was celebrated all over the country with the

charade of speeches made with "tireless verbosity" (46),

exhibitions and seminars conducted, touching every aspect of

his life:

They even pulled out the rusting wood-and- iron

spinning wheels he wanted everyone to use to spin

khadi instead of having to buy British textiles, and

they all weaved symbolic centimetres of homespun (GIN

47).

Equally farcical acts were held nation-wide during Gandhi's

birth centenary ce 1ebrat:ions.

Antony Copley says that khadi became Gandhi's obsession

in the 1920s. He urged ev'eryone to take up handspinning trying

to make them see the spiritual and economic value of manual

labour, especially the peasantry who often endured famine

during the off-season. He a1583 felt that handspinning would

alleviate the problem of unemployment and wanted it to be a

qualification for membership in the Congress (60).

Tharoor also highlights Gangaji's apparent irrelevance

among the younger generation when schoolchildren, in spite of

lessons in school textbooks, 'despite all the ritual

hypocrisies of politicians and leader-writers," still managed

to give only ridicula3us answers to questions about the

loincloth-clad salnt. While one ten-year-old answered that

Gangaji was the father of "our Prime Minister," another wrote

that he was a saint who looked after cows. Another suggested

that he was a character of the Mahabharata, while a fourth

schoolchild thouyht that Gangaji was too poor to wear more

than a loincloth (GIN - 4 7 ) .

There can be no doubt that Tharoor actually intended

Gangaji to act as a parody of Gandhiji himself as he states

that "Gangaji was the kind of person it is more convenient to

forget," and that his principles "were always easier to admire

than to follow. While he was alive, he was impossible to

ignore; once he had gone, he was impossible to imitate" (GIN

47). Speaking about Gandhiji in India: From Midnight to

Millenium, Tharoor repeats the same idea using the same words

(17).

Gandhi's concern wit:h his idea of Truth and the lengths

to which he would go to have it practised in personal life is

well-known, that he even named his autobiography The Story of

My Experiments with Truth. -- Here Gangaji's addiction to Truth

"with a capital T" :is highlighted. For Gangaji (as for

Gandhiji),

Truth was h i cardinal principle, the standard by

which he tested every action and utterance. No

dictionary imbues the word with the depth of meaning

Gangaji gave it. His truth emerged from his

convictions: it meant not only what was accurate, but

what was just and therefore right. Truth could not be

obtained by 'i~ntruthful' or unjust, or violent means

(GIN 4 8 ) .

The narrator Ved Vyas understands Gangaji's Truth better than

anyone else, surely better than some of the British who had a

repulsive habit of describing his philosophy as a kind of

'passive resistance." The narrator thinks that Gangaji's

resistance was not passive at all; in fact, it demanded a

great degree of activj.srn. One had to be prepared to suffer

physical hardships in order to preserve Truth. 'It was

essential to accept punishment willingly in order to

demonstrate the strengt.h of one's convictions" (GIN 48).

Speaking of Gandhiji i,n India: From Midnight to Millenium,

Tharoor attempts to explain Gandhian philosophy using the same

words (18). Tharoor also cracks fun at the originality of

Indians who "have a groat talent for deriving positives from

negatives. Non-violence, non-cooperation, non-alignment, all

mean more, much more, than the concepts they negate" (GIN 48).

In order to live the way of life that he preached, Gandhiji

founded an ashram. Shortly after his renunciation, Gangaji

also started living an austere life in an "ashram" which the

British Resident preferred to call "that commune" in order to

avoid using a native word.

Like Gandhiji, Gangaji always travelled in a third-class

railway compartment. It is in this manner that Gandhi reached

Motihari in North Bihar t:o take up the cause of Indian tenants

operating under the tyranny of British indigo planters.

According to Gandhi, Rajkumar Shukla was an agriculturist in

Champaran and it was the latter who urged him to visit

Motihari. Shukla's request was actually made at the thirty-

first Session of the Indian National Congress held at Lucknow

in December 1616 where the resolution made by Babu Brajkishore

Prasad was unanimously passed (The Story of My Experiments

with Truth 336). In Tharoor's GIN - also, the request is made by a "peasant" called Rajkurnar and his request to Gangaji was to

visit his district Motihalri (name unchanged). However, Tharoor

dramatizes this scene to good effect. Raj Kumar in fact fell

prostate at Gangaji's feat. It. was soon realized that he had

actually collapsed from over-exhaustion for he had not eaten

for three days and he had padded more than a hundred miles

( 4 9 ) .

When Gandhiji visited Motihari in 1917 it constituted

only a part of Champaran district which extended east-west

from Muzaffarpur in Bihar to the Devaria district of Uttar

Pradesh. While the %ran District of Bihar limited its

southern boundary, in the north it extended till the Tarai

region of Nepal. It was only in 1973 that the Champaran

district was divided into two, Betia and Motihari by the Chief

Minister of Bihar at the time, Kedar Pandey. There was popular

opposition to the nomenclaturing of the newborn districts as

it was felt that the name 'Champaran' was too associated with

Gandhiji's agitation to be ignored (3-4). In fact Gandhiji

launched his first Satyagraha from Champaran making it

particularly important. However, Tharoor has avoided using the

name 'Champaran' and instead adopted 'Motihari' throughout the

depiction of this event. Motihari had earlier been the

headquarters of Champaran district. The European landlords of

Champaran had devised a special system called the 'Tinkathia'

which enabled them to exploit the indigenous Champaran

planter. According to this system, a third of every acre of

his holding was to be used for the cultivation of indigo which

the colonists needed. As Singh puts it:

. . . it was th.e prerogative of the zamindar (British) to select the portion of his land where indigo was to

be cultivated, and it also depended on the sweet will

of the white landlord as to what price, if any, was

to be paid to the farmer for his labours and for

using hls land for indigo cultivation. The system had

virtually reduced the farmers to a level of serfdom

( 3 ) .

Writes Tharoor in his Motihari episode:

Three-tenths of every man's land had to be

consecrated to indigo, since the British needed cash-

crops more than they needed wheat. This might not

have been so bad had there been some profit to be had

from it , but there was none. For the indigo had to be

sold to British planters at a fixed price - fixed,

that is, by the buyer (GIN 50).

A comparison of the above couple of passages reveals the exent

to which Tharoor has made use of the details of the original

historical event.

Through the eyes of a discerning Gangaji, Tharoor has

succeeded in capturing the ruthless intensity of the

colonizer-colonized divide, gazing at the Planter's Club where

he was denied entry and turned away. Tharoor contrasts quite

effectively the fatigue-laden faces of the men, the dirty

saris of the women as they did not have another to wear while

they washed the first, and the empty but deceptively distended

bellies of the children of Motihari against the gaiety and

extravagance of the colonizers at the Planter's Club.

On hearing that a tenant had been ill-treated by a

British zamindar, Gandhiji set: off to see him in the company

of others. Their mode of transport was the elephant. In

Gandhiji's words: "An elephant, by the way, is about as common

in Champaran as a bullock-cart in Gujarat" (The Story of My

Experiments with Truth 371). Gangaji also sets off in similar

fashion in the -- GIN 'on the back of a gently swaying elephant

- for elephants were as common a means of transport in

Motihari as bullock-carts elsewhere" (51). Just as Gandhiji is

overtaken by a messenger from the Police Superintendent to

serve a notice on him to leave Champaran (Experiments 371), a

similar message from t:he district police is served on Gangaji

even as he was travelling on t:he back of an elephant. But the

seriousness of Gandhi's narrative is subverted by Tharoor as

Ganga "bends myopically to look at it [the piece of paper]

before sliding awkward:,^ down the side of his mount (GIN 51).

Tharoor's account of the Motihari satyagraha also closely

resembles Louis Fischec's narration of the Champaran struggle

against the imperlal zamindars (see Fischer 191-193).

Perhaps for the sake of enhancing the effect of

novelization, Tharoor portrays the trial scene of Gangaji as

one that is marred with violence as the armed police charge at

the peaceful but noisy protesters. They wade in,

iron-shod hooves and steel-tipped staves flailing.

The crowd does not resist, does not stampede, does

not flee. Ganga has told us how to behave, and there

are volunteers amidst the crowd to ensure we maintain

the discipline that he has taught us. So we stand,

and the blows rain down upon us, on our shoulders,

our bodies, our heads, but we take them

unflinchingly; blood flows but we stand there: bones

break but we stand there; lathis make the dull sound

of wood pulping Elesh and still we stand there, till

the policemen and their young red-faced officer, red

now on his hands and in his eyes as well, red flowing

in his heart and. down his conscience, realize that

something is happen~ng they have never faced

before . . . (GIN 52).

However, the interaction with the officials themselves and

Gandhiji was markedly different as he himself verbalizes in

his autobiography:

A sort of friendliness sprang up between the

officials - Collector, Magistrate, Police

Superintendent - and myself. I might have legally

resisted the notices served on me. Instead I accepted

them all, and my conduct towards the officials was

correct. They thus saw that I did not want to offend

them personally, but that I wanted to offer civil

resistance to their orders. In this way they were put

at ease, and instead of harassing me they gladly

availed themselves of my and my co-workers' co-

operation in regulating the crowds. But it was an

ocular demonstration to them of the fact that their

authority was shaken. The people had for the moment

lost all fear cmf punishment and yielded obedience to

the power of love which their new friend exercised

(372).

In the GIN, the government-pleader tries to get the trial

postponed, but Gangaji announces the futility of a

postponement as he desires to plead guilty. Consequently, he

is ready to accept any sentence imposed on him by the court.

The magistrate Looks helplessly at the unprecedented scenes

being enacted in front of him. He gives permission to Gangaji

to read his own statement, which looks remarkably similar to

Gandhiji's statement rea.d out at the trial at Champaran:

I have entered the district ... in order to perform a humanitarian service in response to a request from

the peasants of Motihari, who feel they are not being

treated fairly by the administration, which defends

the interests of the indigo planters. I could not

render any useiful service to the community without

first studying the problem ... (GIN 53). Compare this with Gandhiji's words extracted from his

statement:

I have entered the country with motives of rendering

humanitarian and national service. I have done so in

response to a pressing invitation to come and help

the ryots, who urge they are not being fairly treated

by the indigo isl'anters. I could not render any help

without studying the problem (The Story of My

Experiments with - Truth - 373).

Again Tharoor writes, as Gangaji continues his statement:

Iam here in the public interest, and do not believe

that my presence can pose any danger to the peace of

the district. I can claim, indeed, to have

considerable experience in matters of governance,

albeit in another capacity (GIN - 53). The resemblance with Gandhi's account continues to be

striking:

I have no other motive, and cannot believe that my

coming can in any way disturb peace and cause loss of

life. I claim to have considerable experience in such

matters (The -- Story of My Experiments with Truth 3 7 3 ) .

Tharoor again seems to depend heavily on Gandhi's

narrative:

As a law-abid.in.9 citizen . . . my first instinct, upon receiving an instruction from the authorities to

cease my activities, would normally have been to

obey. However, this instinct clashed with a higher

instinct, to respect my obligation to the people of

Motiharl whom I am here to serve. Between obedience

to the law and obedience to my conscience I can only

choose the 1att:er. I am perfectly prepared, however,

to face the (::onsequences of my choice and to submit

without protest to any punishment you may impose (GIN

5 3 ) .

Gangaji concludes his argument with a rhetoric flourish:

I refuse to obey the order to leave Motihari.. . and

willingly accept the penalty for my act. I wish,

however, through this statement, to reiterate that my

disobedience emerges not from any lack of respect for

lawful authol-illy, but in obedience to a higher law,

the law of duty (GIN - 5 4 ) .

Now let us go through Gandhi's narrative in order to know

the extent of Tharoor's dependence on the Mahatma's

autobiography:

AS a law-abiding citizen my first instinct would be,

as it was, to obey t.he order served upon me. But I

could not do so without doing violence to my sense of

duty to those for whom I have come. I feel that I

could just now serve them only by remaining in their

midst . . . It is my firm belief that in the complex

constitution under which we are living, the only safe

and honourable course for a self-respecting man is,

in the circumstances such as face me, to do what I

have decided to do, that is, to submit without

protest to the penalty of disobedience.

I venture to make this statement not in any way in

extenuation of the penalty to be awarded against me,

but to show t:hat I have disregarded the order served

upon me not for want of respect for lawful authority,

but in obedience to the higher law of our being, the

voice of conscience (373-374).

In spite of Ganqaji's protest, the confused magistrate

postponed the judgement. Before long, the Lieutenant-Governor

ordered the magistrate to drop all charges against the ex-

Regent and also instructed the local administration to give

all possible help to Gangaji's inquiry. Gandhi also writes

about the "surprised* Maqistrate postponing the judgement only

to be instructed later on by the Lieutenant-Governor himself

to withdraw the case against him. The Collector wrote to

Gandhiji personally offering all the help he needed for his

inquiry. Final1 y, on]. y after successfully abolishing the

'tinkathia' system did Garidhi leave Champaran. It is

worthwhile to add tha.t Tharoor does make a mention of

Gangaji's "candid autobiography" in the - GIN (104).

In the Fifth Book of the GIN entitled 'The Powers of

Silence" Tharoor narrate.3 an agitation organized by Gangaji at

Budge Budge outside Calcutta against the colonial jute-mill

owners who were of Scottish origin. In fact Gangaji is

assisted by an Englishwoman Sarah Moore who was the sister of

one of the jute-mill owners, Montague Rowlatt. Whereas in

Gandhi's account, the :;trike happened not in Bengal but in

Gujarat; precisely speaking, not in Calcutta but in Ahmedabad.

In this case also it was a sister fighting against the

injustice meted out tc, workers in her brother's mill. But the

only difference was that the owners were not colonial; they

were very much Indian. Gandhiji was requested by Anasuyabhai

to fight against her own brother Ambalal Sarabhai. Having

failed to make the mill-owners see reason, Gandhi resorted to

his last tactic - fasting unto death. Finally, after a fast

for only three days, a settlement was arrived at between the

mill-owners and the workers, and Gandhi was able to conclude

his agitation successfully. In Tharoor's GIN, Gandhi's famous

penchant for arbitrat:ion is subverted as Gangaji arbitrates

with the mill-owners and finally wins for them a wage-rise of

thirty-five percent, and this too after a highly effective

fast unto death (103). The details of the settlement which, by

the way, Gandhi has omitted, is laid out in detail and to

devastating effect in Tharoor's work. The thirty-five percent

hike in wages ordered b:y the British Government was only for

the first day after the strike was over. On the second day it

was brought down to twenty percent, to please the mill-owners.

And for every subsequent day a hike of 27.5 percent was

granted. Comments Thar'oor through his narrator Ved Vyas:

The 35 percent ended Ganga's fast and the workers'

strike; the 20 percent ensured that the mill-owners

did not have to concede defeat, which might have

encouraged other workers to contemplate strikes; and

the 27.5 percent appeared to be fair to both sides

while giving the arbitrator the most obvious figure

for his so1ut:ion. The workers of Budge Budge, who had

started off wanting 80 percent, had come down to 50

percent and t:hen reconciled themselves to claiming 35

percent, finally had to settle for 27.5 percent (GIN

104-1051.

The Salt March organized by Gandhi from Sabarmati to

Dandi is subverted by Tharoor into The Great Mango March.

Pandu (read Subhash Chandra Bose) who is shocked by what he

considers Gangaji's eccentric preoccupation with trivial

issues interrupts Gang,aji while he is scrubbing a latrine in

Hastinapur (Sabarmati) ashram. But Gangaji exudes enough

confidence in himself and brushes him aside. As a prelude to

his disobedience, Ganga writes a lengthy letter to the Viceroy

himself in a style which is remarkably similar to that of

Gandhiji before he emt~arked on the historic Salt March. Even

the salutation used, '"Dear Friend," resembles Gandhi ji's

practice. Writes Tharoor"~ Gangaji:

Dear Frlend,

As you are aware, I hold the British rule to be a

curse . . . . I do not intend harm to a single Englishman

in India.. . (GIN 11.91.

Now let us consider Gandhi's letter to the Viceroy:

Dear Frlend,

. . . Whilst . . . I hold the British rule to be a curse, I do not intend harm to a single Englishman.. . (Fischer 333).

Again, in Ganga's letter, we find the following reminder:

"Do not forget, dear friend, .chat your own salary is more than

five thousand times that of the average Indian you tax...";

and earlier, 'I plead with you on bended knee to repeal this

law" (GIN 119).

Compare this with Gandhi's verbiage: "Take your own

salary . . . you are getting much over five thousand times

India's average income. On bended knee, I ask you to ponder

over this phenomenon" (Fi.scher 334).

Again, to look at the conclusion of andh hi's letter:

My ambition is no less than to convert the British

people through non-violence, and thus make them see

the wrong they have done to India. I do not seek to

harm your people. I want to serve them even as I want

to serve my own.. . (Fischer 334).

What really stuns us in Tharoor's version is the

concluding lines of C;angals letter to the Viceroy which is

nothing but a carbon copy of :he Mahatma's letter:

My ambltion is no Less than to convert the British

people through non-violence, and thus make them see

the wrong they have done to India. I do not seek to

harm your people. I want to serve them even as I want

to serve my own (GIN -- 120).

If it were not for Tharoor's general parodying intent

observable in the GIN, it would have been plagiarism!

Gandhiji's penchant for publicizing all his activities is

ridiculed by Tharoor as prior to his Mango March he asks the

entire correspondence between the Viceroy and himself to be

given to the Indian and foreign press respectively, and

particularly to his potential biographer, "that very pleasant

young man from The New - York Times who came to see us last

week," probably alluding to Louis Fischer who worked for The

New York Times (GIN 120).

The narrator Ved Vyas marvels at Gangaji's brilliant

sense of the theatrical. Even though mangoes could be found

anywhere, Gangaji insisted on making a long 288-mile march to

the particular grove specially selected for the purpose so

that he could grab worldwide attention for twenty-four days as

he inched towards his destination. Obviously, Tharoor has

slightly changed his statistics related to Gandhi's Salt

March. But similarities are also evident. According to

Fischer, Gandhi and lni,s seventy-eight disciples walked two

hundred miles in twenty-four days. Interestingly, Tharoorrs

figure for distance covered, 288 miles in twenty-four days

would demand a target of 12 miles per day. Fischer quotes the

Mahatma dismissing the arduousness of the journey thus: "Less

than twelve miles a day in two stages with not much luggage ... Child's play!" (336).

Gandhi's breaking of the oppressive Salt Tax was a simple

act of reaching the beach at Dandi and picking up some salt

left by the waves. But. it was the slow and deliberate build-up

to that particular ac-t of defiance that fires the imagination

of Fischer and probably the rest of the world. It required

ingenuity to walk for twenty-four days and catch the attention

of the whole country and at t:he end of it, on having reached

his destination

to pick up a pinch of salt in publicized defiance of

the mighty Government and thus become a criminal,

that required imagination, dignity and the sense of

showmanship of a great artist.

According to Fischer, the success of this Gandhian act

appealed not only to the illiterate peasants but also to his

sophisticated critics like Subhash Chandra Bose (337).

Tharoor subverts Gandhi's act of law-breaking at Dandi

very effectively. At the climax of the Great Mango March, the

narrator Ved Vyas fears that the "Mahaguru" would be crushed

up by the crowd as he moved towards the oldest and biggest

mango tree in the grove. However, the narrator's fear was soon

assuaged as Gangaji's followers had erected a little platform

for him to pluck a mango, having simply to ascend seven simple

wooden steps. Just as Gandhi had picked up a little salt at

Dandi in a simple symbolic act of defiance, Gangaji plucks the

mango in a ludicrous act:

. . . with a decisive gesture, he reached out a bony

hand toward a ripe luscious Langda mango dangling

from the branch nearest him and wrenched it from its

stalk. As the crowd erupted in a crescendo of

cheering, he turned to them, his hand upraised, the

golden-red syimbol of his defiance blazing its message

of triumph ( G I N 123).

According to Fischer, the salt picked up by Gandhi was

bought in an auction by a certain Dr.Kanuga for a sum Of one

thousand six hundred rupees. In the - GIN, the particular Langda

mango plucked by Gangaj:~ in :his act of defiance against the

oppressive Mango Tax of the Raj was sold for an identical

amount in an auction (124).

Gandhi had started his Salt March from Sabarmati on 12

March 1930 and reached Dandi on 5 April 1930. He marched to

the seashore to pick up the salt the following morning. The

Mahatma's Salt March ~lerlerated a mass-movement of salt-making

throughout the country with several people getting arrested.

While in the aftermath of Gangaji's Great Mango March about

50,000 people had got themselves arrested, Fischer puts the

figure for the arrests made following the Salt March as

anywhere between 50,000 and a hundred thousand. Fischer also

states that even though India at large was seething with rage

at the general British injustice, there was no violence

(except at Chittagong) similar to the incidents that had taken

place at Chauri Chaura in 1922. But Tharoor deliberately

employs the devlce of anachronism in this particular instance.

Following the Great Mango March in a place called Chaurasta

(the resemblance to Chauri Chaura being perhaps not entirely

innocent), an angry mob massacres two young policemen. This

leads Gangaji into suspending the successful agitation much to

the chagrin of hls follo.wers.

The internment of Gandhi and his followers in the wake of

the Dandi March had become a source of embarrassment for the

Viceroy Lord Irwin as, following the Congress refusal to send

delegates to the Firsit Round Table Conference in London in

November 1930, i t had failed. At this juncture, Prime Minister

Ramsay MacDonald himself expressing the hope at the closing

session of the Round Table Conference on 19 January 1931 that

Congress would send delegates to the second Round Table

Conference, Viceroy Irwin, taking the cue, released Gandhi

unconditionally. According to Fischer, it was Gandhi who wrote

a letter to the Viceroy asking for an interview in

appreciation of his gesture (347). But in Tharoor's GIN, it

was the Viceroy who invited Gangaji to tea (127).

On one occasion, Gandhi ate his dinner which consisted of

forty dates and a pin< of goat's milk in the presence of the

Viceroy. It was laid out by his trusted follower Mirabehn

(alias Miss Slade) (Fischer 349; see also Nanda 458). In the

GIN, while waiting for: the Viceroy, Gangaji is offered tea by

Sir Richard who was then Pri.ncipa1 Private Secretary to the

Viceroy. The Mahaguru informs him that he had brought his own

and motions to Sarah--behn, the lady of British descent who

holds a stainless steel tiffin-carrier in her hand. It

contained goat's milk, Gangaji's favourite drink.

Tharoor goes to the extent of subverting Gandhiji's

"dietary predilections" to a point of ludicrity. Gangaji

endeavours to educate t:he uninterested and haughty Sir Richard

about the reason for his opting for goat's milk. He had a

nightmare, he informed the Englishman and goes on to explain

it. He dreamt that a large, sad-eyed white cow with a long

down-turned mouth had wailed to him about being milked by all

sorts of people. But :instead of milk it was blood that had

come from the cow's udders. From that moment he had resolved

not to drink milk again. He continued to inform the baffled

and by now helpless Sir R.ichard that "The cow is our mother ... Yours and mine (GIN 129) .. As she provides nourishment for all

of us, was it right that. we should cause her pain, he asked

the bewildered Englishman. Gangaji having refused to drink

cow's milk fell ill and was dying because of malnourishment

when the doctors pressed him to have cow's milk at any cost,

which the Mahaguru refused stoutly. It was at this juncture

that Sarah-behn suggestecl a satisfactory alternative for the

'dying' Mahaguru - goat's milk.

When Sir Richard offers Gangaji cucumber sandwiches, the

latter smiles impishly and tells him that he had brought his

own food, triumphantly showing him a perfectly ripe mango

plucked during the Great Mango March and says adding insult to

injury: "To remind us of a more famous Tea Party . . . In -

Boston, was it not?" (GIN -- 130).

Fischer also reco:cd:s a similar incident. On a particular

occasion, in the course of a conference, Lord Irwin asked

Gandhi whether he would have tea. The Mahatma thanked him

while retrieving a paper-bag out of a fold in his shawl. He

informed the Viceroy, rather mischievously, that he would put

some of "this salt [from Dandil to remind us of the famous

Boston Tea Party" (349). While in this case, Lord Irwin is

recorded as having laughed with Gandhi, Sir Richard in the - GIN

probably did not. But there is no way of ascertaining his

response as Tharoor ends the chapter abruptly for effect.

The manner in which Gangaji systematically forces Pandu

(Subhash Chandra Bose: to resign from the post of Kauruva

Party President puts a question-mark on the tactics of Gangaji

and his tendency to achieve his idea of Truth at any cost, his

partiality towards the blind Dhritharashtra (Jawaharlal Nehru)

being apparent. The narrator Ved Vyas actually exposes

Gangaji's (and in that: way subverts Gandhiji's) predilection

for his idea of Truth: "No great man ever achieved greatness

by sincerity of purpose alone," and goes on to add, giving us

more insight into what he considers to be Gangaji's concept of

Truth: 'If Gangaji believed in Truth, it was his Truth he . believed in; and by extension the actions he undertook were

founded on the same belief." And Pandu symbolized a challenge

to his unfailing search for his Truth. He had been at odds

with the Mahaguru on various occasions, especially before the

Mango March when he considered it a trivial cause and also in

the wake of its unexpected nationwide success when the

Mahaguru decided to susipend the agitation just because two

English policemen had been killed at Chaurasta where the

agitation turned violent. Thus the Mahaguru had employed

questionable means in the name of 'dharma' and Truth to

eliminate the dissenter (Pandu) and hoist his own favourite

(Dhritharashtral in hi.s place. In a master-stroke of

subversion, Tharoor puts it through the narrator Ved Vyas'

words thus:

There is nothing particularly new, or even cynical,

about that. Our own traditions prescribe such action

- not just i.n the Machiavellian handbook for royal

survivors, the G h a s h a s t r a , but in our epic

political treatise the 'Shantiparvan' of my namesake

Vyasa (174-175).

However, when Tharoor speaks of Gandhi's truth in a

straight-forward manner, that is, without employing

subversion, he speaks in a somewhat different vein in India:

From Midnight to Millenium: -- No dictionary imbues truth with the depth of meaning

Gandhi gave j.t. His truth emerged from his

convict.~ons: it meant not only what was accurate, but

what was just and therefore right.

However, in one thing the tactics of the Mahaguru and the

Mahatma are identical. They do not enjoin violent means for

achieving their ends: "Truth could not be obtained by

'untruthful' or unjust means, which included inflicting

violence upon one's opponent" (India: From Midnight to

Millenium 17). The Mahaguru also does not believe in having

the dissenter Pandu

hit on the head ir. the dark by hired thugs, nor

[defeated] by cheating at the elections ... No

violence done, no blood spilled - but.. . what hurt and humiliation, what sadness and suffering can be

caused in the defence of Truth (GIN 1 7 5 ) .

In this connection it must be added that Gandhi's remark

about his idea of Truth is noteworthy:

Truth is like a vast tree, which yields more and more

fruit, the more you nurture it. The deeper the search

in the mine of truth, the richer the discovery of the

gems buried there, in the shape of openings or an

even greater variet-y of service (The Story of My

Experiments with Truth 206).

In the course clf the farcical discussion between the

Viceroy and his Principal Private Secretary Sir Richard, in

the wake of the outb:ceak of the Second World War, regarding

the form in which India. should declare war against the Axial

Powers, the latter advises his superior that the Indian

leaders need not be consulted. The Viceroy had put forward the

view that the Mahaguru had been on the side of the British

previously: 'Don't forget that Ganga Datta was on our side the

last time round, quite actively in fact - the Ambulance

Association in Hastinapur, was it not?" (GIN 202). Gandhi

speaks of his participation in the Boer War in his

autobiography. He was of the view that it was his duty to

participate in the Boer War in Britain's defence as he had

been fighting for rights as a British citizen earlier on. So

collecting as many Lndians as possible he formed an ambulance

corps after much difficulty (The Story of My Experiments with

Truth 203).

Gandhi had long beliaeved that independence was impossible

to attain without Hindu-Muslirri unity. He had, however, been

pained to see the ugly head of communalism soar ever higher

and higher on the Indian firmament. In early 1942 there was

also the threat of Japanese aggression. According to Nanda,

the Quit India movement was only Gandhi's answer to these twin

menaces ( 4 5 9 - 4 6 0 ) . There was also no other way to unite the

people and to fill them with patriotic fervour. However, the

Viceroy Lord Linlithgow, having secured the full support of

the British Cabinet, worlced to crush the agitation of the

Congress. The prevalence of v~olence in many parts of the

country also helped the Elritish to crush it. Significantly,

Nanda is of the view that even though the Congress may have

been defeated by British tactics for the time being, the Quit

India movement eventuaily led to the fall of the British rule

in 1947 (469).

Tharoor also seems to view the Quit India movement as a

failure. He agrees: 'The words beat a staccato tattoo on

British ears; they were the heartbeat of a national awakening,

the drum roll of a people on the march." But he also concedes

that it lasted only tcierity-four hours. The British arrested

the main leaders within hours of the Quit India call. Within

hours the lower-Level organizers of the movement also found

themselves behind bars. And leaders like Jayaprakash Drona

[Jayaprakash Narayanl who reso.rted to violence - blowing up

bridges and derailing goods trains - found themselves

imprisoned in a maximum-sectirity prison. And the only

important thing that they achieved from their action, writes

the narrator Ved Vya:; rather humorously, was that the

education of his grandsons suffered (GIN - 206). Collins and Lapierre are also critical of Gandhi's timing

and tactics for the Quit India movement. They think that the

Quit India movement moved overwhelmingly in favour of the

Moslem League by removing the leaders of the Congress from the

political scene at a crucial hour:

While they languished in jail, their Moslem rivals

supported Britain's war effort earning by their

attitude a con:iiderable debt of gratitude. Not only

had Gandhi's plan failed to get the English to quit

India; it had gone a long way to making sure that,

before leaving the country, they would feel compelled

to divide it (613).

Collins writes of "a private drama" in the latter part of

the Mahatma's life

whose dimensions would eventually scandalize some of

his oldest associates, alarm millions of Indians, and

baffle the historians who would one day attempt to

comprehend all the facets of Mohandas Gandhi's

complex character. It would also produce one of the

gravest personal crises in the life of the 77-year-

old man who was the conscience of India ( 6 4 ) .

It was connected not with India's fight for freedom but with

Gandhi's great-niece, nineteen-year-old Manu, and his life-

long struggle to sublimate his sexual urge. After his wife

~as'turbai's death he considered himself a mother to the girl.

One day, Manu informed him that she had never felt the sexual

impulses normal in a girl of her age. He thought that he could

make her his ideal female non-violent follower if she mastered

the sexual urge. But she would have to submit to a rigorous

discipline and a 'test." It would mean sleeping together naked

every night in each other's arms. If Gandhi was truthful in

his vow of chastlty and she had not lied to him about her not

feeling sexual urges, then they would not be aroused by such

intimate physical proximity. If Manu passed the test, a

transformation would take over her, enabling her to think and

communicate with infinite clarity: 'A new spirit would Suffuse

the girl, giving her a pure, crystalline devotion to the great

task which awaited her" (Collins 6 5 ) .

Gandhi's concept of 'brahmacharya' differed from the age-

old Hindu idea of a true 'brahmachari.' He did not believe in

avoiding the company of women or living in some lonely

Himalayan cave w l t h the object of preserving chastity. His

paradigmatic 'brahmachari.' was a person who had sublimated his

sexual instincts to such an extent that he would be able to

move freely in the company of women. For Gandhi, for whom an

erection at the age of 6'7, thirty years after he had sworn his

Brahmachari's vow had been a calamity, Manu's admission had

been a challenge of sorts. He also wanted to rid himself of

the last traces of sexuality present in his being. Thus he

began his controversial experiment. He started sleeping with

his great-niece Manu. E:arlier he had extended his range of

physical contact. with women, nursing them personally when they

were ill and having himself massaged by young women even as he

lay practically naked. He had also started bathing in full

view of his disciples, irrespective of their sex. Comments

Collins:

For Gandhi, secure in his own conscience, there was

nothing improper or even remotely sexual in his

relations with Manu. Indeed it is almost

inconceivable that the faintest tremor of Sexual

arousal passed between them. To the Mahatma, the

reasoning which had led him to performwhat was, for

him, a duty to Manu, was sufficient justification for

his actlon (67-68) .

Even though the bortd that attached the Mahatma to this

shy, devoted girl Manu was only spiritual, the shocked

Congress leaders, who were on the verge of beginning crucial

talks with India's new Viceroy, sent a frantic series of

emissaries discreetly to persuade Gandhi to abandon his

practice of sleeping with his great-niece; but he refused.

Finally, it was Manu herself who suggested to him that they

suspend the practice of sleeping together:

She was renouncing nothing of what they were trying

to achieve. T:he concession she proposed was only

temporary, a concession to the smaller minds around

them who could not understand the goals he sought.

It was with great reluctance and sorrow that Gandhi agreed

(Collins 69) .

Tharoor also narrates Gangaji's "nocturnal experiment

which was to cause sc3 much needless controversy amongst his

later biographers" (GIN 227-228). However in this case, the

revered leader Gangaji sleeps not with his great-niece, but

with his British fem~ilc? follower Sarah-behn. Having suddenly

lost his "incredible physical self-sufficiency that had let

him stride up the steps of Buckingham Palace in the English

winter in his dhoti," he was given to frightful bouts of

shivering. The narrator Ved Vyas conjectures that perhaps it

was only the result of am old man feeling cold at night, "but

Gangaji attributed no such simple motive to the decision that

he, with characteristic lack of embarrassment, announced to

his entourage one mo~:ning." His followers listened in

consternation as he informed them that Sarah-behn would be

sleeping with him from then on. He tried to placate them by

saying:

Do not. fear, my children. Sarah-behn is like a

younger sister to me. But I have asked her to join me

in an experiment that will be the ultimate test of my

training and self-restraint. She will lie with me,

unclad, and cradle me in her arms, and I shall not be

aroused. In that non-arousal I hope to satisfy myself

that I have remained pure and disciplined (GIN - 2 2 8 ) .

Even though Collins writes in detail of the deviant

behaviour of the Mahatma in t.he twilight of his life, he does

not seem to take too critical a view about the matter. In

fact, he even makes a pretence of understanding him. He

attributes his odd bshnviour to loneliness after having lost

his wife and the support of his oldest followers. Moreover he

had failed as a father to his own sons.

Conversely, Tharoor .is merciless in his ~ a r o d i c portrayal

of the father of the Nation:

The Mahaguru, at his venerable age - an age when

most normal me:n should have been dandling great-

grandchildren 0x1 their arthritic knees - thinking,

and speaking, of testing his capacity for arousal!

Tharoor also refers to the "tight blanket of loyal censorship"

undertaken by the foLl(3wers of the Mahaguru to save the

reputation of thelr leader in the face of vicious gossip about

his relationship with t.he "formidable" Sarah-behn (GIN 228).

Collins also narrates how Gandhi when assailed by rumours

about his intimacy wi1::h his great-niece sent his explanatory

message to his newspaper Harijan to be published:

Two of the editors quit in protest. Its trustees

fearful of a scandal, did something they had never

dreamed of doing before. They refused to publish a

text written by the Mahatma (68).

As mentioned earlier in this thesis, Tharoor enacts a

rather complex multiple act of parodization in the GIN.

Nowhere is this strategy more apparent than at the death of

Gangaji (Gandhi j i i in the tell-tale eleventh book entitled

"Renunciation - or, The Bed of Arrows." Tharoor had made it

clear in the flrst book of the GIN itself, in the vow-taking

scene of Ganga Datta, that he was not the Bhishma of straight-

forward narration but only a subverted depiction of that epic

figure. Picking up the fallen flowers supposedly showered from

the heavens by the admiring gods but really only the result of

the force of a stray wind, one of the courtiers had declared:

"The heavens admire your courage, Ganga Datta! From now on you

should be known as Bhish:ma, the One Who has Taken a Terrible

Vow" (24).

The age-old depiction of Bhishma as a warrior who was

more than equal even to Parasurama himself and who was said to

have Grecian proportions in his physique suffers at the hands

of Tharoor, for Gangaji is depicted as being as thin as a

papaya plant (g 35). Even though the spiritual comparison

between Bhishma and Gandhi projects the latter almost on an

equal plane, especially their vow of brahmacharya, the

physical comparison makes the act look ludicrous.

Even though the depiction of Gandhi's assassin Nathuram

Godse as Sikhandin may seem unfair to those who admire him,

Tharoor may have been compelled to the act by sheer novelistic

necessities and perhaps by the fact that Godse had also, like

Gandhi, having taken a vow of brahmacharya, steadfastly

abhorred and avoided [any form of sexual relationship (Collins

366). Like Sikhandin, the one mission of his life was to kill

Gandhi.

In the original version, Amba, having been humiliatingly

turned down by her lover Salva, the king of Saubala, pleaded

of Bhishma to marry her in order to save her from being

disgraced. But Bhistima refused to break his vow of

brahmacharya. The sorrow-stricken Amba, after spending six

tear-laden years hoping vainly for happiness, approached

several princes who would confront and finish off Bhishma for

her. But even the greatest warriors, being fearful of him,

refused. The determined Amba, after undergoing tough

austerities, succeedeci in getting the grace of Lord

Subrahmanya, who offered her a garland of ever-fresh lotuses,

the wearer of whlch would become the enemy of Bhishma. As

every warrior who was approached by her refused to take up her

mission, she hung the garland at King Drupada's palace-gate

and went away to the forest where she succeeded in getting the

sympathy of Parasurama who agreed to fight Bhishma. However,

he was defeated by the latter at the end of a long and equal

combat.

Filled with ange.r and disappointment, Amba, after

practising severe austerities, succeeded in getting a boon

from Lord Shiva himself, who announced that she would slay

Bhishma in her next birth. Impatient for her rebirth, Amba

committed suicide by plunging into a pyre. Consequently, she

was reborn as the daughter of King Drupada. A few years after

her birth, seeing Lord Subrahmanya's garland of never-fading

lotuses still hanging at the palace gate, she put it round her

neck. Her shocked father, k:nowing very well that the wearer of

that particular garland would bring on himself/herself the

wrath of the powerful Bhishma sent his daughter in exile. She

underwent strict austerities in the forest and was

consequently changed into a male, adopting the name Sikhandin.

In the GIN also, Amba, after being rejected by King

Salva, approached Ganga Datta with the request of marrying

her. But the latter's advice to her is typically Gandhian, but

perhaps subversive of Bhishma's advice in the original epic:

You know, I wouldn't be so upset if I were you. . . A life of celibacy is a life of great richness. You

ought to try it, my dear. It will make you very

happy. 1 am sure you will find it deeply spiritually

uplifting.

And Amba's reactlon to the above is well in keeping with the

general parodic: spirit inherent in the - GIN: "You smug,

narcissistic bastard . . . Be like you, with your enemas and your

loincloths? Never'!" (29). In this case also after six years of

persistence first with Vichitravirya, then with Salva for

nuptial fulfillment, she gave up hope, and started looking for

someone who would ki1.1 Gangaji. However, fearing the papaya-

thin leader of the masses who was by now well-known throughout

the country, nobody would agree to assassinate him. It was

then that she firmed up to do the task herself.

Tharoor's Amba also practised austerities and was finally

informed by 'an ethereal voice that echoes round the spaces of

her mind" that. Ganga Datta can be killed only by 'a man made

unlike all other men" (208). At this juncture, she goes to a

sharp-toothed surgeon in a greased white coat in a small

clinic of ill-repute in the backstreets of Mumbai and asks him

to change her into a man just as Amba had been transformed

into Sikhantin in the Mahabharata -- (GIN 209).

When India achieved freedom at the stroke of midnight,

Gangaji remained unhappy, silent and alone on the cold floor

of an ill-lit room. A,s he was pondering over his over-all

failure, Sikhantin himself arrived, straight from the small

clinic where she had had her gender transformation. Sikhantin

fires angrily at Gangaji, verbally at first, pointing a finger

at his personal life:

What a wreck you are, Bhishma!. . . What a life you've led. S p o u t ~ n g on and on about our great traditions

and basic value:!, but I don't see the old wife you

ought to be honouring in your old dotage. Advising

everyone about their sex life, marrying people off,

letting them call you the Father of the Nation, but

where is the son you need to light your funeral pyre,

the son of your own loins? (GIN - 232). This also reminds us of the original Father of the

Nation, Gandhi, who is aLso said to have had problems of a

similar nature. In this regard, Collins' observation is

interesting:

. . . the one failure in his [Gandhi'sl life had been

in his role a:s a father. His eldest son, embittered

because he'd felt his father's devotion to others had

deprived him of his share of paternal affection, was

a hopeless alcoholic who had staggered drunk to his

dying motherl.s bedside. Two of his other sons were in

South Africa and rarely in contact with Gandhi ( 6 8 ) .

He goes on to add that the Father of the Nation enjoyed a

normal father-son relation only with his youngest son Devadas.

The assassin took out his gun and shot the Mahaguru

thrice. He was then seined by the latter's followers. Collins

also says that Nathuram Godse shot Gandhi three times. But he

was shot not in a poorly-lit room when he was alone but in the

midst of a crowd as hae was proceeding to his regular prayer

meeting (440).

In the original epic, Arjuna attacked Bhishma on the

tenth day of the battle, using Sikhandin as a shield to

prevent counter-attack, knowing very well that the "grandsire"

would not attack a woman. Arjuna drove arrows into Bhishma's

body so thickly that t:here was not even an inch of space

between them. Consequently, Bhishma tumbled down from his

chariot. Writes Rajagopalachari in his version of the

Mahabharata:

Bhishma's body did not touch the ground, on account

of the arrows sticking out all over his body. His

body shone more brighrly than ever before, as it lay

on a bed of hc'nour, supported by the shafts that had

pierced his fl'esh (232).

The dying Bhishma requested Arjuna, his favourite disciple, to

get him some water to drink. The latter made an opening in the

ground immediately by shooting an arrow adeptly into it from

which immediately gusheci Siorth the "pure sweet water" from the

River Ganga.

Tharoor subverts the above-mentioned incident in his

characteristic manner. The narrator Ved Vyas, not having

personally witnessed the assassination of Gangaji has a

nightmare in which the Mahaguru is felled not by bullets but

by arrows as in the Mahabharata. -- The hundred hands of his

followers which lift him gently to his deathbed seem to the

narrator to be

a bed of a hundred arrows, all planted firmly in the

stony ground, their sharp triangular heads embedded

in Gangaji's back, his lifeblood pouring from each in

a crimson flow that merged and mingled with the

darker trickle Sirom his assassin's weapon, till it

was impossible to tell which he was dying from, the

injury inflicted by the killer or the unremitting

incisions of the bed of arrows on which he was lying-

(GIN 2 3 3 ) . -

Like Bhishma of the !*lahabharata, Tharoor's Gangaji too,

even though suffering c:onsiderable physical pain, does not

experience any mental torment. "He bore his fatal impalement

calmly, as another campaigner for justice and peace had

accepted the catharsis of crucifixion." In his nightmare, Ved

Vyas visualizes Gangaji asking for the last sip of water

'which is the dying Hindu's last prerogative on earth." "A

lustrous youth" immediately obliged him by stepping forward

and shooting a purposeful arrow into the ground. But Tharoor

points to the harsh reality of present-day environmental

pollution, for the 'Ganga-jal' which emanated from the ground

was

the best and the worst. of all the water of India, its

crystals clear with the sparkle of love and truth and

hope, its flow muddied by the waste and the offal

that are also flung into the holiest of our rivers.

The filthy water, if it quenched the Mahaguru's thirst, also

succeeded in inflaming his open wounds. At this juncture, the

nightmare fades from the narrator's vision and he is brought

back to 'reality' when a boy called Arjun, Pandu's son, brings

a tumbler of "Pure Ga.nga-jal, from Hastinapur" for the

Mahaguru (GIN - 233 I .

In the Mahabharata, .- Karna rushed to Bhishma's side as

soon as he came to know that he lay wounded in the battlefield

and sought his blessings which the 'grandsire' graciously

gave, and Karna returned to the Kauravas brimming with

confidence at havlng obtained Bhishma's benediction. In the

GIN also, Mohammed Ali Karna (Mohammed Ali Jinnah) visits -

Gangaji as he lay dying seeking his blessings. And the sinking

Gangaji also wholeheartedly rendered him his blessings.

Nehru' s f lalr f 01:: giving extemporaneous speeches is

highlighted by Fischer in his biography of Gandhi. The news of

the Mahatma's assassination was conveyed to the people of

India by none other than Jawanarlal Nehru who was the Prime

Minister then. He broke the news through the All India Radio,

fighting in vain to cor~trol his tears and choked up with

emotion:

The light has gone out of our lives and there is

darkness everywhere and I do not quite know what to

tell you and how to say it. Our beloved leader, Bapu

as we call him, the father of our nation, is no more

( 1 8 - 1 9 1 .

In the GIN, immediately after Gangaji's death, Dhritarashtra

also refers to the Light that went out of 'our" lives. But the

paradox of the statement was that there had never been any

light, literally, in Dhritarashtra's life as he had been born

completely blind. However, Monammed Ali Karna's reaction was

characteristically grudging: ' . . . a great loss to the Hindu

community," he said (GIKI 234) . Mohammed Ali Jinnah's message

of condolence, as recorded by Collins at Gandhi's death, is

strikingly similar: 'There can be no controversy in the face

of death . . . He was one of the greatest men produced by the

Hindu community." At this, one of Jinnah's assistants

suggested that Gandhi's significance went beyond his

community. But Jinnah without budging, disagreed: " No. . . That's what he was - a great Hindu" (445).

At all times the impact of Gandhi on Indian English

novels has been very significant. Gandhi himself was

influenced by Thoreau and Tolstoy. In I. Venkateswarlu's

words :

Thoreau's ldea of non-conformity to the evil of

American slave trade and Tolstoy's notion of

resistance 'o Russian serfdom were also more or less

similar to the Gandhian concept of resistance to a

moral wrong. They paved the way for Gandhi in this

matter. Liberalism and humanism shape, to a large

extent, the Gandhian non-conformist theory (Amur 52).

Gandhi introduced his potent weapon of 'satyagraha'; and

'ahimsa' was for him not merely a term of considerable

spiritual significance but a working principle in actual

political praxis. Venkateswarlu rightly points out:

Apart from the Upanishads, the Gita and other holy

scriptures of Hinduism, the Bible too plays a

significant role in shaping the Gandhian notion of

'satyagraha.' Tlne Sermon on the Mount made a lasting

impression on the mind of the Mahatma (Amur 53).

Both R.K. Narayan in Waiting for the Mahatma (1955) and

Raja Rao in Kanthapura have tried in their individual styles

to deal with Gandhism. Where Narayan was unsuccessful, as

pointed out by C.D. Narasimhaiah, Rao was effective to a

greater extent. Moorthy, the central character of Rao's novel,

is a typical Gandhian. His act of eating with the pariahs

which leads to hls eventual excommunication is the highlight

of the novel.

In the words of M.K. Naik:

Gandhi's writings are a mine of stimulating thought

on political, social, economic, cultural and

spiritual issues. He was no erudite scholar, by no

means an original thinker with a razor-sharp mind,

nor a brilliant theoretician. But solidly grounded in

the ancient Indian tradition, he possessed a profound

moral earnestness which enabled him to rediscover the

ethical values of this tradition; and with his

convictions au:pported by similar trends in ancient

and modern Western thought, he boldly applied his

findings to the political and social realities of

colonial India (122).

K.R. Srinivasa Iyengar also praises Gandhi for bringing

about yet another revolution - the Gandhian revolution in

the usage of Indian English. Writes Iyengar:

Although no g.reat scholar, Gandhi knew very well the

New Testament im English, and his writing in English

had accordingly a simplicity, pointedness and clarity

that was in refreshing contrast to the heaviness

often charact:.eristic of earlier Indian writing.

Thanks to the Gandhian example, Indian writing in

English became recognizably functional. Gone were the

old Macaulayan amplitude and richness of phrasing and

weight of miscellaneous learning. Gandhian writing

was as bare and austere as was his own life . . . (272). In Khwaja Ahmad Abk'as' Inqulab ( 1 9 5 5 ) , we come across

many historical characters like Gandhi, Motilal Nehru, Subhash

Chandra Bose, Vallabhbhai Patel, Abdul Ghaffar Khan, and so

on. The representations being rather straight-forward, there

is hardly any ironic or parodying intent such as we encounter

in the novelizing art of later Indian English novelists like

Rushdie and Tharoor. It is worthwhile mentioning that the

fictionalization of history has always held a fascination for

Indian English writers. F.ccording to Iyengar, T. Ramakrishna

Wrote a historical novel. as early as 1903. Titled Padmini, it

was "a romance of the sixteenth century leading up to the

great battle of Talikoto which brought to an end the 'never-

to-be-forgotten' Vi jayanagar Empire" ( 3 2 3 ) . Sudipta Kaviraj suggests that the strength of Gandhism is

rooted in its shrewd utilization of cultural power, 'its

ability to fashion weapons of political struggle Out of

unorthodox material" (229). While radical politicians such as

M.N. Roy failed to understand Gandhi's politics, it was its

apparent weaknesses such as his so-called "impotent mysticism"

and indigenism that was its real strength. He was well-versed

both with British law and administrative ethic; and his

politics was a shrewd admixture of cultural and political

strategies. Says Kaviraj: 'Resolved in its parts, it

[Gandhisml appeared laughable and simplistic; as a totality,

it was, after all, the only strategy that worked against

British imperialism." Kaviraj sees Indian culture as one of

"inflections," having a great variety of gestures of "great

subtlety." Says Kavlraj:

Subtlety of a culture is not a matter of literacy

alone; and Gandhi's political style consciously tried

to gather up these elements from other aspects of

Indian life, in which their effectiveness had been

tried for centuries, and apply them to the untried

field of politics.

Kaviraj goes on to argue that Gandhian politics was not

entirely mystical. Rather, it was well-directed with its

seeming irrationalities carefully worked out. Says Kaviraj:

Surely, a part of Gandhi's critique of colonial

culture was a deliberate counterposition of

Westernized crudeness with an inherently subtle

indigenous style, a cultural style which does not

give an account or justification of what it is doing

in other's terms. Gandhi used the Indian cultural

repertoire with great success. His style was a

condensed introduction, and a breaking down of the

barrier between the political interlocuter and his

audience. He began to be understood before he began

to speak, where others discoursed endlessly with

little effect ( 2 2 9 ) .

Kaviraj contributes Gandhi's success to his blend of

literacy and subtlety that in turn "made for a peculiar mode

in which few knew how to play with Gandhi's sureness of

touch." Kaviraj points out that Gandhi created a political

culture which depended (jroatly on the "prediscursive" - that

is, he used symbolism of a kind which was understood to the

audience even before he started to speak. For Kaviraj,

Gandhi's elaborate simplicity was a conscious political act

which achieved through his idiosyncratic symbolic style what a

rationalist discourse could not have:

It dispensed with the need of every urban politician

to introduce :himself to his rural constituency,

arguments to establish his authenticity. Gandhi's

metaphysics crossed this barrier implicitly (230).

Mohanty points out that Gandhi's conscious use Of

religious symbols in 11i:s strategy of struggle irritated the

communists. Gandhi endeavoured to mobilize the masses, often

with great success, in the anti-colonial struggle. Needless to

say, he willingly put to use traditional idioms and symbols in

order to communicate with ordinary people. Writes Mohanty:

What the communists regarded as feudal images, Gandhi

used effectirre:Ly to carry people with him. At the

same time, he made it clear to the landlords and

capitaiists that unless they stood by him they would

invite the wrath of the common people. Thus the

united front of otherwise antagonistic classes and

sections of people actually materialized under his

leadership wt~ic:h the communists failed to appreciate

(243).

As Kaviraj puts it: 'E'olitics often become a context over the

use of language, a matter of defiance of linguistic and

symbolic norms" 110). A:nd nobody understood this better than

Gandhi himself.

Ranajit Guha alleges that Gandhi being the spokesperson

of the indigenous bourgeoisie

shared with the colonialists a prejudice common to

all elites in regarding any mobilization of the

masses on their own initiative as indiscipline. In

this sense, the voice that asked the question about

disciplining the habitually undisciplined, though not

quite the same as a sergeant-major's, was still the

voice of one who stood outside and above the ranks he

wanted to bring to order. That being so, Gandhi's

description of his own faith in the masses as

'boundless,' was less than convincing. He dismissed

the views of: the critics of Non-co-operation as

'nothing less t.han distrust of the people's ability

to control t:hemselves.' But his own distrust is

inscribed so firmly and so copiously in his writings

and speeches that it is hard to imagine anyone

scoring better (Chaterjee 108).

After charging Gandhi of insincerity, Guha goes on to add

that Gandhi, unlike h:is 'loyalist' opponents within the

Congress, knew how to make use of the masses whose mobocracy

he distrusted. As Guha puts it:

. . . Gandhi had a use for the masses. It was of

fundamental importance for the philosophy as well as

the practice of his politics that the people should

be appropriated. for and their energies and numbers

'harnessed' to a nationalism which would allow the

bourgeoisie to speak for its own interests in such a

way as to generate the illusion of speaking for all

of society. ,4lthough he shared the aversion of all

elitist politicians for what he called 'mob rule' and

was quick, like them , to condemn it as 'cruel' and

'unreasonable,' he distinguished himself clearly from

the others by his acumen to discern an inexhaustible

fund of eneri3y in the 'mobocracy' he hated so much

and e x p l o ~ t it in order to power the Congress

campaigns. He was not going to throw away this

material which he described as 'an exhibition of

boundless l(:)vel and set about regulating and

employing it 'for the national good' (109).

Guha charges that Gandhi used the power of the masses to

achieve the goais of the bourgeoisie (111). The writings of

critics like Kavlraj, Mohanty and Guha, along with the parody

of Tharoor, reveal Gandhi not as just the highly-revered

figure of the father of the nation, but a hugely successful

and shrewd politician who knew how to win the complicated game

of wresting power, and could just as easily dominate in a game

of one-upmanship.