[nukkad] The drama of conversion of Gandhi's son to islam

[zaverirm <>]

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Real knowledge is to know the extent of one's ignorance. 
-Confucius,  philosopher and teacher (c. 551-478 BCE)
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Just received from another list sent in by one Sudesh.
You may find it interesting.

Rohit Zaveri.
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The author of this memoir is a retired civil servant. In the book cited
below he has penned down in a very unassuming and unembellished style
his life experiences, including those from some 40 years as a mid-level
civil servant in United Provinces, and then Uttar Pradesh. His honesty
is utterly refreshing.

He cites the name as Hira Lal. Most books have him as Hari Lal. In my
translation I have not made any alterations.
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            HIRALAL GANDHI IN KANPUR

This incident dates back to 1936-37 when I was a student in Kanpur's DAV
college and was preparing for the law examination. I used to live in the
college hostel.

Inter-community relations in Kanpur of those times had reached their
nadir. People still had fresh in their minds the memories of the big
Hindu-Muslim riots. The embers of communal hatred were being fanned by
the so-called "community leaders" on both sides.

On one  side there was this Maulana Bukhari, fond of giving long
speeches, thoroughly quenched in communal venom. People of a certain
community used to regularly attend his meetings and encourage him at
intervals by shouting incendiary slogans.  Typically, these meetings
concluded with the bringing of a few persons, purportedly Hindus, on the
podium, wishing to embrace Islam. They were made to recite the Kalama
(affirmation of faith, required of those embracing Islam), and were thus
ceremonially inducted into the ranks of the believers.

Often times, Hindus too used to convene retaliatory meetings, which were
equally inciting.

Not only did the authorities make absolutely no effort to curb such
gatherings, but in actuality they tacitly encouraged them. The reasons
were clear. The independence movement was in full swing, and the
calculated policy of the government was to weaken it by keeping Muslims
and Hindus in a perpetual state of warfare.

Just about that time Mahatma Gandhi's son Hiralal Gandhi was making
news. Whether it was because of his illustrious father's indifference
towards him, or any other reason, he had fallen into the abyss of
degradation. He had become addicted to alcohol and women. His moral
character had plummeted to the gutter level. Some Muslim fanatics saw
their opportunity to slander the Mahatma, fanned the fires in the son by
assisting him in his evil desires. A a prelude, he was coaxed into Islam
and given a new name: Abdullah Gandhi. Then he was made a show-piece at
Muslim gatherings all over India. Wherever he was exhibited, the Muslim
slogan used to be: "Today the son has known the true religion of Islam,
tomorrow we shall make Gandhi (M.K.)  recite the Kalama."

How could Kanpur be immune to this malady? As expected, with great
fanfare Abdullah Gandhi, alias Hiralal was brought to Kanpur and was
show-cased in a mammoth meeting. The same slogans- "The Son Today, the
Father Tomorrow" were repeated. Then in accordance with the usual
routine of previous meetings, some imposters and hired characters posing
as Hindus took the Islamic oath, and were ceremonially inducted into
Islam. The meeting then formed into a procession. I had the chance to
watch this procession with a few of my friends from a close angle.

The procession was fairly big, and passed raucously through the
important thoroughfares
of the city, shouting inflammatory slogans. The centerpiece was, of
course, Abdullah Gandhi sitting in an open 'Buggy' (horse drawn
carriage). On either side of him was a man   holding him for support
because he was heavily drunk. He was wearing a pair of loose pyjamas,
black 'sherwani'  topped by a Sheikh Abdullah style fur cap. His eyes
were bloodshot, and he was swinging under the influence. When the
procession passed through Moolganj (the red-light district of Kanpur)
the scene became hilarious. On both sides of the road, on the balconies
and rooftops, the prostitutes turned out to watch the spectacle. Our
'hero' Abdullah  Gandhi bowing to them, was sending his 'Salaams'
through the air, which were profusely reciprocated to by the ladies of
the night.  At one spot, while doing his Salaams, Abdullah lost his
balance and rolled to the floor of the carriage. His facilitators
somehow lifted him up and put him back in his seat.

Needless to say, my heart filled with grief and indignation over the
tragic fall of a great man's offspring.


            (Translated from original Hindi.)
"Yaadon ke Jharokhe se"  (Through the Windows of Memory)
             by Shivnath Sharma, Page 28-29



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