Com. E. K. Nayanar

The Smiles From My Shelf [4]

It has been ages since I had posted something on one of my favorite topics.

Was it that I didn’t want to? I’m not sure!!

But today I was reminded about it by a most unlikely source. As I was scrolling through the online news papers today, I had come across a report on the investigation to the conspiracy by certain communal elements to assassinate the former Kerala Chief Minister E K Nayanar. The politics in Kerala has been witnessing a rapid transformation in the run up to the present general elections, leaving the man on the street confused as well as saddened by the turn of events. Money, muscle power and rabid communal elements have virtually taken over the centre stage like never before. It is under such circumstances that a man of the masses like Com. Nayanar is really missed.

Com. E. K., as we used to refer to him, was no run of the mill polititian. He was a gentle and genial leader who had touched the people's hearts irrespective of their political affiliations. There were no short cuts for him in politics, he had worked 'underground' in almost all regions of the state and knew every village "like the back of my hand". Throughout his life he was on the side of the ordinary and the downtrodden people and earned their uninhibited affection and respects. I still remember the sea of humanity that had beseiged the AKG Centre, braving the incessant monsoon showers to have a last glimpse of his body and pay him their last respects.

Com. E. K. lived a modest life. He was the CM, next door who could easily connect with the man in the street. A brilliant speaker with a penchant for putting things in a hilarious way, he had often sent his audience into roars of laughter. The comrades as well as political opponents liked to listen to him. He showed an effortless irreverence to things formal and was never a strict adherent to protocols. But behind all these was the master politician with guileless persuasive skills, who was chosen to lead an experimental coalition and went on to become the state's longest serving Chief Minister. There was no disputing his ideological commitments but he had also possessed the pragmatism that was essential in running coalition governments. He could easily tranform himself from an old-fashioned organizer to an able administrator. Some of the state's best known developmental and welfare initiatives were launched under his leadership. The successful efforts to strengthen the public distribution system, to boost the agricultural production, the decentralization of power through the district council experiments and the path breaking mass campaigns that made Kerala a fully literate state were all carried out with him at the helm. The radical experiment at democratic decentralization, the People's Plan Campaign was launched during his last stint as Chief Minister. If some of those experiments might have run into rough weather let's blame it on the scourge of corruption that had crept into the very grass roots and not the men who took the noble initiative.

I have one fond recollection of a close encounter with that man of the masses. It was the early 1990's and I was in my second year in college. A student agitation was on against the policies of the then government in the education sector. The state leaders of the left leaning student organizations were on indefinite hunger strike in front of the government secretariat in Thiruvananthapuram. Engineering college students had joined them in an adjacent 'pandal' and I was put on duty there to attend to the fasting comrades. Our days used to start quietly with a reading and analysis of the morning news papers. But as the day wore on, the road in front of secretariat was filled with demonstrators expressing solidarity with the fasting students. There were frequent skirmishes too which would turn the road into a virtual battleground between the agitating students and the policemen led by a certain Rishi Raj Singh, who had always preferred to lead from the front. After sunset we had the torchlight demostrations, often daring the onlooking policemen to come and hit us. The strike was dragging on for longer than expected and one by one the striking comrades were being arrested and removed to hospitals. Prominent politicians from the opposition used to visit us. One afternoon, there was a sudden spurt of movement of people in and around our 'pandal' and some of those sitting inside quickly rushed out. Before I could sense what was going on I saw right in front of me, the familiar figure of Com. E. K, spotting the customary smile. He gestured to my fasting comrade Sunil C. P. not to get up from his bed even as he entered the 'pandal'. And as I stood motionless and confused, the legendary communist leader put his left hand on my shoulder and smiled at me. He told me in his no-nonsense way that he did not think that the government will reverse its policies. But he assured us that "we will fight this battle together". I did not know what to say and merely returned the smile.

In these days of violent and acrimonious political battles, the people of Kerala might be missing the healing presence of a charismatic personality like Com. E. K. and his sense of humour while handling the most vivacious of political debates. And I personally miss the beaming and innocent smile of that man of the masses.

The Two Questions- Returned

Arrogant as always, with no Regrets

The class room was noisy as usual. Verbal wars were on for and against stars of the celluloid or of those from the sporting arena. Foul mouthing was flying freely from all directions; parents and sometimes even the ghosts of the grand parents were not spared. It was into this lively afternoon session that he had entered, with his old note book full of equations in Greek or Roman. Some stood up and some others pretended so and there were yawns heard from the back benches. The message was loud and clear, that the day was going to be no different for him.  He turned to the black board, paying no heed to the ones who stood up or the ones who yawned. And the class was back to business, continuing from the point of interruption, the moment of his unwelcome entry.

Arrows were flying and the pieces of chalk were hitting those in the front benches with increased accuracy and power, eliciting a feeble cry of pain at times.  He stopped as usual, when one of the flying objects landed on his shoulder. Shivering with anger, he stormed out of the class, triggering wild celebrations. He had hit a personal low, after causing the death of a close relative in a vehicular accident. Its effects were showing in his actions, personal as well as professional. Soon he was back, accompanying the Professor and Head, and there was pin-drop-silence in a class of forty well groomed gentle men, of 'royal' blood. His angry outburst stood no chance against the polished orators from across the divide. The Professor listened to both sides and sensed an opportunity for populism and he pleaded silence for fear disturbing the adjacent lectures and advised a quite afternoon nap, if the class was found to be boring.

There was a stunned expression in his face, as the Professor went out with a deceptive smile. And thirty nine heads hit the desks, the very moment the Professor left; artificial snoring of different pitches, high, low or lyrical, forming the back ground. He slowly moved to be beside the front bench on the right corner, to be near the only head that was held high, daring the whispering foul mouths with a cold blooded stare and presenting him with a helpless smile. There he stood for a long time, not knowing what to do, as if cursing the deceptive deities or his own destiny.   If they didn’t want so be it, then he spoke to himself and proceeded to exit, sad and sullen.  

What if one was hugely unpopular among the peers? And who cares? It takes tenacity to stare down the crowd. It calls for courage to tread the lonely path. And it demands a heart to be the Outsider. And what better place on this earth, other than the kingdom where the hermits used to live, for the ones destined to be the outsiders?