a thin frail man with a menacing stick in hand, teaching a life worth emulating, taking quick steps defying giants, rising up to them and yet not raising his stick to retaliate their blows. a life of 50,000 placated by this same frail man. a lesson to be taught, first had to be learnt. and that is how he lived. how sad it is the lessons are forgotten but the smudges memorised with glee.

on the day yesterday years ago, he had lost his life to a bullet. how things would have been different then. wishful thinking me thinks. and yet cant think how a life of great politician, humanist, is remembered for the flaws, the fabrications by a generation that can never meet him in the eye for his courage lie in his weapon of non-violence.

ever wondered how “weapon of non-violence” is not actually an oxymoron?


3 thoughts on “gandhi

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