Chapter 26 – Part 1 - Akash
There were heroes and there were villains. In between them were the people who facilitated the ideology. Akash knew very well from the start that he was a facilitator and neither a hero nor a villain. It wasn't because he didn't have it in him – it was because he knew he could achieve more if he ran the process than represent.
It was in fact his father's life who inspired him to be so. Akash's father, Dinkar, was a postmaster. His daily routine involved lot of leg work and interaction with people. Weather wasn't a factor that affected him but he always did his job well. An orator of politics in private and an honest reserved man in public, one could never fathom the…buried anger within him.
Life went on the way it does for a common man irrespective of the turmoil on the land and in the hearts of people in power. There were and had always been men and women ignorant about the troubles that brewed in the heartland of the country. This ignorance is what makes the country run – irrespective of the doom being at the doorstep or already inside the house. Dinkar was one such man who spoke about the atrocities of the government, the media blackout, when he changed his state issued khaki postmaster uniform after long day of work while his six months old son wriggled his arms and legs cooing happily. He knew his son was too young and a mere baby to understand the world outside but Dinkar made sure that he let his son know what was in his heart.
His wife didn't know what changed. She didn't know what the trigger was but she noticed that her gentle husband was gone and was replaced by much intense variant of him. His speeches became passionate and the privacy of his thoughts slowly dissolved and flowed to public waters. Her heart jumped to her throat when Dinkar came home one night with bruises and cuts all over his torso and calmness on his face. He didn't tell her what happened and she couldn't bring herself to ask him.
Dinkar's imprisonment however changed everything.
His wife and child visited him every day for next fourteen months. He saw his son become bigger behind the bars and the weariness on his wife's face increase.
"How are you?" She asked keeping her emotions in check.
"On your way out meet the lady guard at the east gate, okay?" Dinkar whispered. His wife looked surprised at the request while their son, Akash, beat the bars with his tiny hands. "She will give you an address and a name. Meet that person today itself. He will help you."
"What should I…" She was cut off before she could complete her thought.
"Get away from this place love. Go to the place where the man is going to take you and start a new life. Before you do, go home first. There is a small trunk above the wardrobe in our bedroom. Take that with you. Give it to Akash when he grows up. He is his father's son and he knows what needs to be done with it." Dinkar said holding her hands.
"I don't know what you are talking about," she hiccupped when she realized he was being dead serious.
"Don't worry about me. I am going to be…fine," he said halting. "I have met people here who are incredibly smart and have visions for the country rivaling what our forefathers thought during pre-independence era. The time has come for the next generation to fix the cracks, gaps, crevices in foundation and shape the country to reach the glory it once boasted of. We have to eliminate the weeds grown in our own backyard. They are the poison which is killing the country from inside. Their greed, ideology, sense of overpowering people with bureaucracy is making them blind to the issues which will arise out of this apathy. The future built on such a foundation can never be stable and its volatility will be the root cause of almost every perceivable problem. Like everything else in life this phase too will pass but the effect of it will be long standing. Emergency will end one day and normalcy will be restored. But the country would forever be changed because of this experience." Dinkar said watching his son play.
"I don't understand…" His wife had tears in her eyes.
"Just go. When Akash grows up, tell him about me. Please." Not waiting for a response, Dinkar walked out of the room with a prison constable and didn't turn back.
*****
Fourteen year old Akash watched his parents exchange a glance. His father patted his mother on shoulder and left them alone. Once he was out of room, his mother handed him a thick notebook.
"This belonged to your father Akash. He wanted you to have this when you were old enough to….understand I suppose," she said.
"Why didn't he give this to me himself? He was here few minutes ago," Akash said taking the book from his mother's hands and flipping through it.
"The man responsible for your birth has left you this book Akash. Do you understand?" She asked hoping that the young boy would understand.
Akash nodded mutely. "Who was he?" Akash asked moments later.
"His name is Dinkar and he was an honorable man. Dinkar knew he was going to die in jail for the protests he had conducted and the words he had said. He met your father in jail and they became fast friends. Your father used to represent men who stood against the system and when his attempts were thwarted, he turned to journalism and collaborated with a journalist by the name Shyam Manohar Jha. Holding a degree in law helped him to write about legal bankruptcy of the government and was able to reach out to more people but ended up attracting attention of people who didn't want him to…talk. So he ended up in jail for a short period. Dinkar trusted your father with life and gave him the responsibility of raising you and taking care of me. He had money, property and a good heart –Dinkar knew that he would be a great father to you. We came here with your father and started a new life." She replied.
Akash slipped out of the room without a word and ran towards the grounds. Lying on lush green grass on his stomach and a book plopped in front of him on the ground; that was his favorite method of reading though his parents disapproved it. He lived with his parents far away from city in an isolated farm house. His father spent only few days a month with them and lived in the city the rest of the days continuing his career as a lawyer. His father appointed a live-in teacher for Akash who taught him everything a boy of his age ought to know. Over the years more people came to live with them on the property and he could see an actual boundary being built – a fourteen feet tall compound.
*****
At nineteen he pretty much knew his destiny. A small photograph of his biological father lay along with his parents' photo next to his bed side. He had been seeing people come in and out of farmhouse for years now. Men guarded the compound and wielded weapons for protection. The need of protection eluded him at first but slowly he understood the world his father was building over the years. He could recite the manifesto from memory and knew the story of Dinkar and Shyam Manohar Jha to the point that he could almost taste the pungent odor of their shared cell. He admired both the men for their sacrifices and their words. Without which, he wouldn't be part of the change.
The last of his teenage years saw him traveling around the world and checking out local history. His tutor believed that the knowledge of the world came from walking on the streets. Seeing made things real, he said. He believed that peace came with the cost of war. It was the most expensive commodity which came after years of subjugation, corruption, greed and innocent collateral damage. While standing in front of an Iraqi artifact in London museum, his immediate memory was that of bombing of rural Iraq where many such artifacts found on old buildings and monuments were destroyed. The dichotomy of loss and preservation had rendered him breathless. He sat in the museum right in front of that artifact for several hours understanding that to save the country he should destroy its foundation first.
After his world tour, he was home reading the manifesto again. This time however it was a man who was reading it and not just a boy.
And then he started planning.
*****
The hall was jam packed with people coming in from various domains. The speech was open for less than hundred people and was organized by an exclusive club. T.N. Seshan was the chief speaker of the evening and his stint as 10th Chief Election Commissioner of India had attracted severe media attention when he worked to reduce electoral malpractices and bringing in transparency to the system. Akash was impressed with the determination of the man and the way he held on to his ideology for entirety of his tenure. When the ex CEC opened the forum for questions, Akash's hand shot up.
Akash asked, "Sir, do you believe that appointment of CEC is a bipartisan process?"
"That's a very interesting question Mr…" The speaker trailed.
"Akash. My name is Akash Sampat."
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