This morning, like every year, a small community will come together in Hridya Kunj at Sabarmati and at Bapu Kuti in Wardha to pray. The prayer would be an all-religion prayer meeting as conceived by Bapu, the founder of these two ashrams. They would notice that their numbers have dwindled even further, that the few newcomers have worn khadi, but it is not made from the yarn that they spun for themselves. They would ask themselves about the meaning of Bapu’s birthday in India today. What should they should celebrate? Jammu and Kashmir? Bombs that ripped through hospitals in Ahmedabad? Singur? Koshi and Mahanadi wrecking havoc? The desecration of the Wondrous Cross? Their hearts would be hard and parched up as they sing Vaishnav Jan To; would that hymn come upon them like a shower of mercy as the poet Rabindranath promised?

Many of them would tell us stories of what it meant to be a soldier of peace at times of communal conflict or to provide succour to a Bangladeshi refugee. They might also tell us as to how the techniques of violence have changed in our times. As they speak with a little shake of head, with a slight tremor in their hands they would speak of their failures. They would speak of how khadi became a subsidised endeavour, how swadeshi became a catchphrase to sell scooters, how they watched violence spiralling out of control and how institutions that went under the name of ashrams — like the one of Asharam Bapu’s — became land-grabbing exercises. They would speak of how constructive work gave way to the modern NGO. They would confirm that the state has become the greatest source of violence and inequity. They would admit that conversations across religions have become increasingly frayed. Their sense of humour intact, they would say that it took a Munnabhai to make Gandhi fashionable. They would admit that it was they who failed Bapu. They would say this because they believe it to be so. They would say it because they know that Gandhi would have said so. Gandhi would have said that his practise of truth, non-violence and brahamacharya was imperfect. He would say, like he did in Noakhali and Bihar, that his imperfections were the cause of violence and hatred.

... contd.