It is my intention to
write several short stories (posted weekly) based on reminiscences of people who have had the
good fortune to meet Savarkar. This is my aunt, Mrs. Nirmala Vaidya’s, story. I
loved it when she told it to me and I was sorry I could not include it in my
novel. I have already posted it once, but I want to inaugurate this series with
it, too.
Savarkarian
Subtlety
Savarkar
had just returned to Bombay after his meeting with Sir Stafford Cripps. Great
things were expected from Cripps, even a solution for the deadlock in the
Indian political situation. What had Savarkar and Cripps said to each other?
That was the burning question. Everyone around Savarkar had a great curiosity
to know the answer. Eighteen-year-old Nirmala was no exception. She had been
counting the days, minutes, seconds until Savarkar got back. She had to know
the answer to that question—she just had
to know it! And now.
But how? Approaching Savarkar directly
was impossible. She, like everyone else, was in great awe of him. He never
raised his voice, was always soft-spoken, and didn’t ever express his anger if
he felt it. But his intellect, his magnetic personality, his repartee set him
apart. It would be quite an impertinence to ask such a question to him.
Nirmala was not one to give up easily!
There was only one person who could perhaps get away with it: Prabhat, her dear
friend and Savarkar’s daughter. He doted on her, everyone knew that. She
hotfooted it to Prabhat’s side.
“Psst, Prabhat!” Nirmala whispered
urgently.
“Nirmala! Why are you whispering?”
exclaimed Prabhat, looking up from her reading. “What’s going on . . . ?”
She had noticed Nirmala’s air of barely
contained excitement.
“Ooh, Prabhat! You must, must, must do me a favor!” said Nirmala
grabbing Prabhat’s arm and dragging her towards the door.
“I will, Nirmala, I will,” laughed
Prabhat, allowing herself to be pulled. “But what do I have to do?”
“Nothing much! Just ask Tatya what he
and Sir Cripps talked about.”
“What!” Prabhat came to a screeching
halt, and now the dragging started in the opposite direction. “Are you crazy?
Never! I cannot do such a thing.”
“Yes, you can,” coaxed Nirmala. “Does he
not love you a lot?”
“Ye-e-e-s, but . . . but . . .”
“Don’t you want to know what happened
between them?”
“To tell the truth, Nirmala, I
re-e-e-ally want to know. But it never occurred to me to ask!”
“Well, now it has. This is our
opportunity. He is by himself right now. The coast is clear.”
“Well . . . maybe . . .” Prabhat allowed
herself to be drawn towards Savarkar’s room. “He won’t be upset, I hope.”
“Well, if he is a bit, it’s okay. He
won’t scold, I’m sure!”
“But his eyes, Nirmala! That look . . . ! I shall sink through
the floor if he looks at me like that.”
“Be brave, Prabhat! You are Savarkar’s
daughter.”
They had now arrived outside Savarkar’s
door. Both girls stood close, clutching each other’s arms for courage. Prabhat
knocked timidly and poked her head in. Nirmala peeked over her shoulder.
“Prabhe, Nirmala, what brings you here?”
said Savarkar, surprised to see them.
Prabhat ventured into the room on
reluctant feet. With Nirmala’s hand urging her forward from behind, there
wasn’t much choice.
“Tatya . . . Tatya . . .”
“Yes, Prabhe? Anything wrong?”
“I . . . we . . .” Prabhat swallowed and
then the words tumbled out. “What did you say to Sir Cripps, Tatya?”
Savarkar looked at them for a moment. “I
told him, Prabhe, that I have two little girls here whom it is very necessary
to consult before we make any decision about our Hindustan!” he said, quite
gently.
These gentle words had an electrifying
result. With one mind both girls turned about and fled out of the room.
Anurupa
Masta :)
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