21 January,2011.I am in Ahemdabad, for a three day visit to Gujarat- NaMo Bhumi, Modiland, NaMosthan....as many call it....Its my first ever visit to the state and I am with Jagadambika Aunty and Urmila. Along with Rajasthan, the place I believe, is connected to my soul in previous births as well. This makes the visit special in the first place. Gujarat is most impressive. Don’t ask me if there are posh malls like the ones Bangalore has. There are, more than what is necessary. But posh malls certainly do not speak for a city. I see something here never seen before in the few states I have lived in- clean, smooth gutter-free roads with absolutely no dust or dig-ups in between. What is not seen in my home state is being relished every minute, because good roads are a sign of good governance. It leads to a smooth flow of traffic and pleasant journeys. Said Paresh, our taxi driver, what I hoped to hear,"Humara CM baddhiya insaan hai." I can write more if I stay for a few more days. But there is an entirely different dimension that makes the trip even more unique, special and unforgettable. I met NaMo again, twice today. He spotted me in a group at the conference he had come to inaugurate and called out my name, while we were at the tea break. Which means he has not forgotten! As Shri. Gopinath told us, "CM never forgets". And in the evening, we were invited to his residence for a brief 25 minutes- a dynamic man in a simple office. The article on the November meeting was long ready, but somehow it failed to enter Ente Sakhi. Maybe the first copy was destined to be given to NaMo himself and then published. As I handed it to the great leader, he perused through it briefly and promised me that he would read through the same. For NaMo, a promise is a promise. As he blessed me again, I again saw a deeply affectionate patriarch.We proceeded to Akshardham Temple, an unforgettable visit, all arranged by NaMo. We were given special attention and care, saw the breathtakingly spectacular water show with the story of Nachiketa brilliantly portrayed. But I think I should start from where it all began.
In 2001, when Mother Earth shook violently in Bhuj, the sights splashed by media were heart wrenching. Bodies lay scattered and homes, shattered. Losing one’s roofing and dear ones is unimaginable. Sitting in Kerala, I followed every move (if at all there was anything commendable) and wished repeatedly that there was a magic staff to wave and re-create what those in power failed to do. 10 months of tracking the Bhuj earthquake left me an extremely disappointed Indian. A curse on every possible politician- I decided. How could they be so blind and callous? In October 2001, a new ministry was sworn in, in Gujarat, amidst distress and rubble. Like every bigwig the brand new Chief Minister promised home and hope. Here in Kerala I squirmed. But then, that was the last wince ever.
For unlike others, much to my surprise, this person lived up to his words. In a year’s time an unrestricted number of houses were gifted to the victims and Gujarat saw a phase of development which wiped out any trace of a natural disaster. The act was no political stunt, with no mega ceremonies to boost political ego. The houses were handed over with every legal document intact. In the larger picture, Gujarat never ever looked struck by a disaster. From then on, there was no looking back. The state prospered under the Chief Minister’s watchful, able administration. Bloomed should be the word used. And back in Kerala, I kept track all the while. With the passage of time, the world saw that Gujarat was neither under any spell nor was their leader a David Blaine who waved a wand.
I am speaking of the Honourable Chief Minister of Gujarat Shri. Narendra Modi. Over time, to those he endeared himself, it has been NaMo. On my part, I was deeply thrilled and never made an effort to mask my excitement when I met a soul from Gujarat and convey to them how much I held their leader in esteem. Whether it made a difference to them or not, I did feel good. There was an absolute desire to be part of a crowd, listen to the orator inspire his countrymen and catch a glimpse of this distinguished administrator. I also did wish that my dear state of Kerala went into his hands to be revived and spruced up. And along with that, there was one thing done unfailingly: NaMo was regular in our family prayers, quite in the forefront, that too. And one of the persons discussed almost daily, with unfailing regularity. He became part of the family- a patriarch we never met.
Early in 2010 I had a dream. Shri Narendra Modi, on a visit to Kerala graces my home, spends some time and leaves. What I treasured was the part where he places his hands on my head and blesses me. I did consider myself granted with an early morning vision of this kind. The responses of dear ones were prompt: Ethra sundaramaya nadakkatha swapnam. (What a beautiful dream that will never happen). Well, I knew that too. But the ‘beautiful dream that would never happen’ was too real for me and the euphoria lasted for long.
Time flew by and thanks to my spondilitis; a job hunt trip to Bangalore on November 08, 2010 was postponed. Many lost opportunities made me dejected. “Everything is for a cause”, my spiritual advisor Hari sang. But it had little impact and offered minimal solace. Sleep was elusive at night and on one such occasion I sailed into the virtual world. My Gmail Inbox displayed a dull face with no glad tidings. In extreme dejection I ventured into the long forsaken Spam Box. My eyes fell on the third mail from a certain Hiren Joshi which had the subject:
Your meeting with Hon'ble CM Shri Narendra Modi
I read the line a multiple number of times before proceeding to the mail. A flurry of thoughts crossed my mind. An invitation to a section of people who respect him, from NaMo personally? What an honour! But how do I go to Gujarat alone? Na! A golden opportunity lost! How do I ever get such a chance again?? Thoughts flew in all directions and I opened the mail.
What awaited made me dizzy. It took quite some time to come to terms that it was a personal invitation to meet the Honourable Chief Minister of Gujarat who was to reach Kerala on 13 November, 2010. If it was fine with me, I could get in touch with CMO for further guidance, the mail stated. Deep into midnight, I woke my mother up who explained and convinced me, bleary eyed, that it was a solid prank and that I should sleep. Someone was playing a prank. Someone who knew my devotion. And the same someone had hacked the government website. But why me? What malignant motive? …….I drifted off with these plaguing thoughts wondering if Hamlet’s ghost had travelled from Denmark and possessed me all of a sudden.
The next morning I hounded a techie friend. The mail is no hoax, he confirmed. Even if it’s a hoax, let’s play along, he said. Offering every possible prayer to all deities, the reply was sent. I promptly received a call from Shri.Hiren Joshi who said Shri.Gopinath would guide me further. My fears were immediately washed off and it was all so genuinely true. Over the days, the final date, time and venue was fixed-
14 November, 2010/ 09.00AM/ Taj Vivanta, Wellington Island.
Abhi, my astro-guide, clueless about the event, cast my chart in advance- A predestined meeting, of some previous birth, with someone you revere to the core, someone whom you consider extremely dear, a deeply spiritual person, who heads something. In your confused state, you might never convey what you intend to. But the meeting will leave its impact on you for life. Those numerous posts sent to NaMo’s blog with a prayer that at least my name catches his eye, was seen after all, in-spite of a bustling schedule. From then, till the D-day, I walked in a trance. No sleep and no food for five solid days. My dear mother Usha and Dr. Jagadambika, our close family friend shared my excitement whole-heartedly but silently, for they too were to come with me.
November 14, 2010 unfolded and everything around me looked enchanted. Precious minutes and hours gave way to the great moment. And when Shri Tanmay Mehta opened the door of the room where the great leader was, for a minute I thought I might faint- there stood the greatest statesman our country has seen in modern times and to stand in front of him was solely a poorvajanma punyam. He accorded us the warmest welcome and made us feel most comfortable. To come down to the level of ordinary citizens is what makes a person great.
As Abhi said, I was awe struck the entire length of time. Not just me, but my mother and my aunt. But we all did speak, without any hesitation and conveyed to him rather bluntly how badly our country needs him. The person in whose presence we sat was by no means an egoist who boasted about his unending achievement. There was no pedantic air of the leader of a state, which is the synonym of prosperity. Instead we felt the vibes of an honest, sincere, down-to-earth person, who has a fixed goal in life, from which there is no looking back. The bold march ahead was quite clear on the countenance. We spoke of Dwaraka, Gujarat and her developments, Kerala and her waning grounds, education and many interesting general issues. 40 blessed minutes of my life.
So the meeting prompted me to write this?
No. NaMo is writing material galore- an extremely rare specimen, who has been blessed with power- not to fill his pockets, but to heal the varied wounds of Bharat Mata. Just that the meeting hastened my work with ink and pen and gave it a personal touch as well. We do not understand certain basic lessons Prakrithi demonstrates. She unleashes her fury, after warning us a million times of our misdeeds. But like any mother, her language is simple too. When she punishes she has obvious answers, which we tend to ignore and remain blind to. Bhuj was the epicenter of a horrendous disaster, but she had kept solutions ready from another spot, Vadnagar, which the citizens were blessed enough to see for themselves. Bharat has suffered for decades. Foreign onslaughts still remain numerous and direct. The invasions have slowed down, but not the foreign rule.
One nameless, faceless gentleman of leisure attacked me on Orkut- “What’s so venerable about someone who has been denied a US visa?”My answer, “The US of A is a geographical area on the same earth we live in. What they demonstrated is their high-handed imperialistic culture. It makes no difference to a person’s glory if a ticket has been denied in another part of the earth. Nor does it hamper NaMo’s duty”. Continued Mr. Faceless, “You follow the American way of living, use their goods, dress according to their styles, the country banks on the US of A for her economy and you don’t find any difference?” He rounded off shouting slogans in favor of the members of a so called dynasty. “No Mr. Faceless Nameless. As a person yours sincerely is off any Western prescription. As for the names you have yelled, they are members of a clan who have seen to it that Bharat’s identity is suppressed. They are part of a system that has unfailingly been trying to make Indians feel inferior of their own culture and identity and prompt them to adopt a pseudo one instead, making each one of us hoaxes in our own land. They have been part of that unending scheme to drive the country poor, make her an eternal slave of a so called imperial master and bring dishonor to all her brave sons. Their scheme is too obvious. And amidst all this when some one has marched ahead undaunted and proved that we can easily have our own economy, the response of every citizen who loves the country is obvious. Lessons from our Ithihasa remains priceless: a land progresses only if the Karma of their ruler is clear. Those on the path of Dharma stand in limited number and crooks stand in legions.” Mr. Faceless Nameless was seen no more.
So is this the eulogy of a ‘fan’ who was blessed to meet NaMo?
Brand me not as a ‘fan’. In literary parlance it means a fanatic supporter and fanaticism makes one blind, as can be seen around. It makes one limited and feeble too. Instead let me be known as one among those millions, who sees the worth of a selfless son of Bharat Mata, whose dedication to the land cannot be measured, on whom the hopes of countless others rest. Let’s open our eyes to the progress made in the state he heads and judge for ourselves who is worthy of leadership. My eyes are and so are those of a numerous others, irrespective of religion, caste, colour, creed, age, shape, size, sex, status and what not. Why does it take time for those who have kept their windows to the world shut to have them open?
My country is blessed with a unique richness- a spiritual and material plenitude which no other nation possesses. But she is being drained, and worse still, the acquired poverty is projected worldwide as her only face. Kolkatha or Kalighat was the seat of culture, but thanks to a foreign element, the only face of Kolkatha or Kalighat the world has seen is pathetic. That’s what they are made to believe, thanks to media, the puppet of the grossly criminal ruling class. Why are we still blind to the fact that Gujarat’s prosperity can be India’s prosperity, if we the citizens have, what is known as dedication to a cause? I crib and cringe inwardly and publically when those mesmerized by the ‘ruling fair skin’ that conceals their ‘crafty agenda’, wax eloquence about the so called leaders. Rosy cheeks and dimple chin and fair skin are no solution for a nation reeling under soaring prices, rising poverty, terrorism and glaring corruption.
Following the majority, I am clueless about dirty politics and the filthy bag of tricks that accompanies it. But like the majority, I know that life is getting difficult each day for the common man with the central bandwagon turning a blind eye to everything, getting bolder day by day, and committing the worst of day light robberies. Wearing the outward mask of democracy, what we have is everything but that. It is autocracy, plutocracy, monarchy of commonplace foreigners and above all, western imperialism. Whither exists democracy when there is ongoing talk of a ‘prince’ who will be ‘crowned’? Why are we a damp, squidgy lot allowing ourselves to be hoodwinked for years at a stretch? There is evident swindling of the country’s precious resources, making every tax paying individual look like a fool. All my countrymen who have pledged allegiance to this new trend of foreign invasion for their personal gains forgetting the mother land should realize what lies in store for them. My unaware countrymen will be used and thrown when their role is over.
So what about yours sincerely?
I felt like Kuchela and Grace Bedel rolled into one.
My friends shared my excitement. Those who stood with me in my inner most rings listened over phone silently. I could see them smiling away, gauging how exactly I felt. A few of them in earnest genuineness wanted to splash it over the local media- the same vehicle that camouflages NaMo’s true worth in grotesque shades. It could be spicy news for them, an ideal diet for a week. But that was not what the meeting was about. For me it is sacred and not meant to be dispersed as fodder for the farcical lot to desecrate the holy soul on a later date. Also I was to respect the genuineness of NaMo who did something unusual. I have read and seen pictures of self proclaimed princes mingle with the common lot, not out of sheer genuineness, but to enhance their image. For NaMo it was a quiet matter- we were sure he thought only of the joy we were to have on a dream coming true.
Some chided me for addressing NaMo as “Modiji”. “Sir” should have been used, they opinioned. Sir?? Why?? This is not England and the person I met was no fictional knight. Neither was yours sincerely in front of a military corporal who wielded a disciplinary baton. The person is someone whom many consider the patriarch of Vasudeiva Kutumbakam. Do we need to be slaves of the West in such true moments? Also, with a single little word “Beta” he gave me the place of a daughter.
And then there was a minuscule section who couldn’t resist, “Isn’t he the same person who was .........?”I had to cut them short and give them my sermon. Any human with average intelligence will understand “who was responsible” for “that”. Any human with a sane mind will see that a leader whose sole aim is to build will never fan violence in anyway. Peace is what he will maintain at any cost. Those days, when NaMo was media’s kernel, I remember seeing a leader with a reassuring face reaching out to his countrymen. But behind that, wasn’t there a human who was deeply hurt at the gross injustice done to him? Wasn’t there a man who stepped down, wondering if his duty to Bharat Mata was clipped short? And when he came back with an overwhelming majority, there was no smirk of a politician who had an “I am victorious look”. Instead there was a humble, down-to-earth person who faced the masses, with what I am sure, was a constant prayer in his heart. “A person must be judged in totality and not by any stray unfortunate incident alone. On this account, to me, NARENDRA MODI has passed the litmus political test,” observed a dedicated Orkutian.
For me there has been an awakening regarding life, a re-thinking. Life has given me multiple surprises, (which I prefer casting away) with unfailing, prompt regularity, all in the same dejected vein. And I was surfeited with them. On 14 November 2010, there was the realization that the most unexpected surprise comes in beautiful packages. But then, the crowning glory of the moment was realized because of those preceding nightmares. Sheer, unalloyed happiness visited me after eons and I realized its value.
But why yours sincerely when there are numerous intellectuals out there to meet NaMo? All I had offered were prayers and support and a constant reminder that the champion was not alone in his cause. I never had lofty political ideologies to convey. Dr Jagadambika explained- “It is always the Guru’s decision to meet the shishyah.”But again- was yours sincerely worthy of it? My spiritual advisor Hari sorted it out. “Chechi, this is predestined. Our Poorva Janma Karma leads us to many aspects in successive births. This special meeting is the continuation of your soul’s role in this world. Somewhere in a previous birth NaMo’s soul must have promised you a blessed darshan in another birth. And when Prakrithi’s design was right, it happened,” said Hari. “What about the dream, Hari?” “In the wheel of time, the incident is past and was recorded in the soul’s memory. The soul recollected the same in one of its states of existence.” Hmm. Convincing for now, but I could need more answers sometime later.
From the time he proved his worth, NaMo has been in my prayers unfailingly, along with every dear soul close to me because, on him lies the hope of a million Indians and such a person ought to have everyone’s prayers. Prayers are positive energy and shield away negative onslaughts. My favourite deity has been the philosophical sage ParamaShivan who has patiently borne the brunt of my tiresome queries. He led me to his beautiful wife Devi, the mother, Prakrithi. Dwarakanath made his entry into my mind in orison just a few years back.
I had once conveyed a wishful thinking to Padmakumarji about receiving a reply from NaMo himself as we unfailingly conveyed our support through his blog. He did assure me that someday, my wish would be realized. What I received on November 14 was more than a reply. When NaMo placed his hands on my head as I knelt before him, this time in real life, the energy flow was immense. It was only because Somnath, Ambaji and Dwarakanath had asked their most beloved son to gift me that special package of collective blessings, which he did place on my head. They were not blessings for a single day, a month or a year. It is for eternity. And I continue to pray that NaMo in turn remains their most beloved son for ever.
Shri. Narendra Modiji is not an isolated case of dedication in our land. There are legions of others, struggling against odds, who are more than willing to contribute in ways they can, to the cause of the nation. Many have laid their souls for a single cause. Many names go unsung while the causes of others are acknowledged. I bow before them all.
And NaMo did wave a magic wand after all.
