Why understanding Gandhi took me more than a textbook

My grandmother’s sister got married in prison. Because her husband-to-be, like her, was a freedom fighter who walked alongside Mahatma Gandhi in the 1940s.

She went to prison a couple of times as well.

And while this gave Gandhi a sort of mythological-creature-of-greatness vibe, school almost put an end to my burgeoning interest. Why? Because ahead of my graduation – from the CBSE system many years ago– it seemed like the textbook-makers were paranoid. They needed to stuff our heads with all things ‘patriotic’. Cue the chapters from Gandhi’s biography, what he thought of civics and how he featured in our history. What educators didn’t seem to get is just because you refer to someone as a legend; the Father of the Nation; it doesn’t make him all that interesting – the over analysis of his every move is gaudy at best, yawn-inducing at worst.

The clever thinker however started to make an impression. I thought to myself, well, an India full of people who didn’t know how to fight, face an army with guns and ammunition. Should you really be going head to head? It seems like the recipe for disaster. Non-violence protests seemed only logical.

I was 16.

But to demand quietly that what is yours be returned to you – that takes an unfathomable amount of courage. To question why signs like ‘No Dogs and Indians Allowed’ are at bars and restaurants in India now seems like a no-brainer. But before 1947, Indian independence, it was a common sight. In India, an Indian became a second-class citizen. And within those citizens there were – and are - divisions of caste, creed, colour and state. Not to mention education. And once you are done with this tiramisu of nonsense, there was a difference in belief systems.

For one person to bring together a jumble from these segregated groups is an unprecedented – some could argue now un-doable – task. It was managed by Gandhi.

And so a step of respect was born.

What would cement this however was talking to my 77-year-old grandma. She lived in Aligarh, and was one of the first batch of girls allowed into the Aligarh Muslim University. She recalls the building for students such as her had not yet been constructed – they were being taught in a hut with a thatched roof. Come October 2, the year after Gandhi’s death, the nation celebrated and mourned in equal measure.

The university would however continue with classes in spite of students calling for a day off. That morning, she and a few friends of hers plotted and toiled and ended up vandalising university property. They were told off by officials, punished by parents and labelled little troublemakers.

I’m not condoning the act – burning down a building is a terrible, terrible thing. And against the principles taught by Gandhi. Sticking to conversation may have been the better bet.

And yet…to argue and stand up for what you believe in, in spite of what others say – isn’t that what democracy is all about? Isn’t that what he was all about?