Sunday, January 22, 2012

A silk saree and a 3 am call She came up the hard way in the dog-eat-dog world of Indian politics. In this extract from West Bengal chief minister Mamata Banerjee’s memoirs, she remembers two men who helped and supported her — Gandhian and former chi

http://www.telegraphindia.com/1120122/jsp/7days/story_15037478.jsp

A silk saree and a 3 am call

There were others who helped me out, quietly, behind my back, and often without my knowledge, but none more tirelessly than Prafullada (Prafulla Chandra Sen, former chief minister of West Bengal). After leading a nearly ascetic life, he took up my cause at the fag end of his life. Right through the election campaign, the nonagenarian Prafullada hit the streets — armed with a microphone on a rickshaw and accompanied by Khukudi, who was very dear to him — to canvass for me. Yet, he did not know me personally at that time. He was my invisible guardian and he championed me on his own, not because the party asked him to or because he knew me and was fond of me.

After I won, I went to pay my respects to him at his house on Middleton Row. That was the first time I met the legendary Gandhian and close compatriot and successor of Bidhan Chandra Roy, and was stunned by his extraordinary simplicity. He had spent his entire life in someone else's house. He never did anything for himself. For me, he was the ideal politician and an ideal human being. I remember having a long chat with him and taking in his breadth of vision and ideological strength with every pore of my being. Prafullada blessed me and said, "Mamata, I know I am over 90 years old, but had I been younger, I would have started all over again. You are a ray of hope after a long spell of darkness." I remember he insisted that I have lunch and then presented me with a beautiful silk saree. He said, "Khuku, please request Mamata to wear the saree and show me how it looks." That put me in a spot — as an elder, Prafullada 's request was something I could not turn down, but what he did not know was that ever since I joined active politics, I have never worn a silk saree. The last time I draped one was when I was a kid. I tried my best, but I could not make Prafullada understand. Finally, I resorted to help from Khukudi. The quick-witted Khukudi helped me out of the tricky situation that day without hurting the sentiments of someone who had nothing but affection for me and who I will always hold in the highest esteem.

Since that day, I visited Prafullada at least once a week to take his counsel. He would often voice his regret about his political life, saying, "Mamata, the biggest mistake of my life was to come to power with the CPM on our heads and I want to do something about it. It's my form of penitence. I invited them into power — I will have to live with the pain and torment of it till the end. I don't know when their reign of terror will end and whether I will be able to see them out of power in my lifetime."

Six years later, on Shoshthi, Prafullada suddenly passed away. I had never imagined that he would leave us before his centenary. I respected him as a decent human being, and not just a political leader. I remember in 1989, I had gone to Arambag for a meeting. As luck would have it, Prafullada too was in Arambag at that time and he somehow got to know about my Mangal Chandi fast (Tuesday fast). This is a fast that I have been keeping since the time I was a little girl — all the womenfolk in our house fast on Tuesdays right through the Bengali month of Jaishtha.

While on that trip, someone came and handed me a letter from Prafullada. He had written, "Mamata, I know it's your Mangal Chandi fast today and you won't be able to eat outside food. I shall keep some pressed rice and cucumber for you at home, please drop by on your way back and have a bite." That simple gesture really touched my heart — this was the Prafullada our Leftist friends called inhuman. They twisted his every word, and put his every comment out of context just to use them as a crutch to come to power. No one was allowed a glimpse into this elderly gentleman's humanist heart, his principles, which truly touch one's conscience.

While writing about the biggest realisations of my life, two contrasting images flash before my mind's eye. In the first, Prafullada's body is lying in state and in the other, he is anxiously asking after my well-being at the SSKM Hospital. Just before he passed away, I faced perhaps the biggest physical threat to my life when CPM goons brutally attacked me near Hazra crossing in August 1990. The next day, Prafullada came to see me in hospital. Later, my colleagues told me that when he came out of the hospital and spoke to the waiting media, he said, "I wish the Almighty would take whatever years are left of my life in exchange for Mamata's." So when I heard about his deteriorating health, I rushed to see him for the last time even though I was still very unwell. My first thought was, "Did Prafullada really exchange his life for mine… did he give up his life so I would recover?" Suddenly, I felt terribly guilty. I felt I was in some way responsible for his death. I will always remember Prafullada with respect and humility. It was his dream to see Bengal liberated from the clutches of the red brigade and I promised him that wewill fulfil it. And the day we do, I am sure, wherever he is, Prafullada will bless us with all his mighty heart.

I started my stint in Parliament as a novice. The first attack on me was personal — about my education. The way it was talked about, it made me seem like an illiterate person who could not even sign her name. I know the people behind the conspiracy and the person who masterminded the whole controversy. But I have never intended to get personal which is why I am not mentioning any names, from the Left or Right. Indeed the idea was to escalate the issue so much that I would lose my seat in Parliament.

During those days, the person who steadfastly supported me and shielded me with his affection like an elder brother was Rajivji. I remember, one day, when the controversy was raging in the house, I was sitting all by myself in Parliament, feeling both lost and defeated. Suddenly, a bearer materialised from nowhere and told me, "The PM wants to see you right away." I was flabbergasted. I was totally new to the job and in the middle of a controversy, so I walked to his room with some trepidation, wondering what I had done wrong. But when I entered his room, Rajivji stunned me with his kindness.

He said, "Some selfish and jealous people are trying to character assassinate you… don't worry, I am with you. If you need anything, let me know. And listen, I am appointing you general secretary of the All India Youth Congress." I was truly taken aback. Although I started my career in students' politics and finally ended up as party secretary, I had never been involved with the Youth Congress. But that put paid to any plans that my rivals may have hatched to diddle me out of my seat in Parliament.

Once in Parliament, I focused on the various problems faced by the people of my state — from unconditional land registration for refugees, to problems faced by workers in different factories and industries, the unemployment issue and harassment of women — and started raising my voice against the ruling CPM regime in West Bengal. That raised hackles — so much so that CPM MPs once told me, "Next time we will not let you win." I continued raising the issues of the day in the House — from those crippled by adulterated cooking oil to recovering the dead bodies of mountaineers caught in the snowy hilltops of Himachal Pradesh. Whatever I did, I always got Rajivji's unstinted support. Those who criticise him do not know the man behind the image. Rajivji was a simple, clean-hearted, and incredibly hard-working human being. He truly believed in the might of the new generation, he dreamt for them, and he worked tirelessly for them.

I still clearly remember one incident. Chaudhary Devilal was then the chief minister of Haryana. His granddaughter-in-law, Supriya, was found mysteriously murdered. I used to be as diligent as a school girl in the House and I took my role as a parliamentarian extremely seriously. One weekend, I was stuck in Calcutta due to some urgent work and so I missed the train to Delhi on Monday. The next day when I reached Delhi, I rushed to Parliament from the station itself. In the House a lot of people asked me, "Kal kyun nahi aye [why didn't you come yesterday]?" I asked, "Why? What happened?" Some MPs from the Congress explained, "Devilal's grand-daughter-in-law has been murdered but no one raised that issue in a proper way in the House yesterday… we want you to do that today."

During zero hour, I raised the demand for a CBI enquiry into the matter. The leaders of the Opposition, including the MPs from the Left, instead of supporting me, repeatedly interrupted me so I would not be able to have my say. Those days, I used to wear a silver bangle. I took it off, placed it in front of Madhu Dandavate and said, "If none of you has the guts to do anything about this, please wear this bangle and sit at home." That prompted a Telugu Desam MP to take off his shoes and place them on my table.

MAMATA AND HER MENTOR: With Rajiv Gandhi at a Calcutta meet

Anyhow, the issue created a huge uproar in the House. I returned home, had my dinner, and went off to sleep. At around three in the morning, the phone rang. I picked it up. From the other end came Rajivji's voice, "Congratulations. You upheld the honour of women in the House today… speak up against those who left their shoes on your seat." Despite his crazy schedule and all the pressures of running the country, he remembered me and knew exactly what was happening. These are memories I will always treasure. Another incident that I recollect is about Priyada (Priyaranjan Das Munshi). He was then the Pradesh Congress president. As he and I had some differences over the Lok Sabha blocks in my constituency the committees could not be formed and development work was suffering. I decided to go to Rajiv Gandhi who was in Parliament. He was supposed to leave for Amethi the same day, so I hurried to him. Every time we met, he would always ask after my health. Nothing escaped him; he kept an eye on everything. Sometimes he would say, "Mamata, why are you losing weight?" At other times, he would say, "You're putting on weight." That day, the moment I stood before him, he asked, "Kya hua… kuch garbar hain [What happened? Is something wrong]?" I replied, "Please ask Priyada to take over my blocks, I can't work like this." I thought he would do whatever he needed to do about my problem once he came back from Amethi. However, when I met Priyada in the Central Hall an hour later, he said, "So you complained to Rajivji about me? Tell me which blocks you want." After that, I had no problems and the block allotment happened according to my suggestions.

As long as he was alive, Rajivji was like the proverbial banyan tree over our heads. I would always feel his protective presence, shielding us from everything. He helped me every step of the way. I will never forget that when Rajivji wanted to make me the West Bengal State Youth Congress president in 1987-88 there were many people who opposed him. Rajivji had come to West Bengal to inaugurate the Panchayati Raj project in the state. We had come with him and were supposed to return to Delhi with him. I got a whiff of the conspiracy after I boarded the flight. I saw a bunch of Congress leaders from my state entering Rajivji's cabin for a long discussion. After they left, I was called in. When I stepped into the cabin I saw Rajivji still in discussion with the AICC general secretary Oscar Fernandes. The moment he saw me, he said, "Mamata, you are working so hard, doing such good work… I want to give you some serious responsibilities." I replied, "Rajivji, I don't want anything. Your acknowledgement is enough and I am grateful for it. But I will not get into Mahila Congress (Congress Women's Wing)." Rajivji realised that I knew all about the delegation that had just left his room asking him not to make me the Pradesh Youth Congress president. He said, "Alright… I will not ask you to do anything you don't want to."

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