Sunday, December 04, 2016


At around 12 today, I got SO SO bored with Facebook. It was sickening. So I closed that down and opened this instead and am typing. Now I'm stuck. I don't know what to type on about. Maybe I will write about the work I am procrastinating about (what is the correct preposition to go on here?) By the way, I just took a break and finished off that work.

Yesterday, I read an article on M.K. Gandhi's last day. It was written by his grandson, Tushar Gandhi. While reading it, it struck me that it is quite the ultimate privilege - to have the details of your last day recorded. Tushar writes about the meal that Gandhi ate before his death - two limes, three amlas, some curd, some juice, a little daal. He was recovering from a fast at the time/ He had spoken with Nehru. There were agitations outside the Birla house. They were chanting, "Let Gandhi die."  Nehru, who was visiting Gandhi at the time, lunged towards the mob in anger. The mob dispersed. 

Tushar writes about the things Gandhi spoke about to his aides. Some banal, some significant. Around that time, the country itself was going through a churn. India owed Pakistan money from the undivided exchequer that India was not willing to release because of the fightings in Kashmir. He joked with the two women who were always with him.

He was late for his prayers by 5 minutes. On the way, a man stopped to touch his feet. With folded hands, he bowed and shot Gandhi 3 times.

This entire piece was maybe 4 pages with photos. 

How many things end and not everything gets recorded. But isn't it interesting to wonder about what would be going on when you pass away?

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