I happen to suggest one such story, a story of a woman who claims that she fought for the free air that our country breathes today. All hear say... but worth investigating. I was assigned the job. Pleasure was all mine. After all, it was going to be pleasant weekend in a hill station on Maharashtra-Gujarat border, called Saputara. It was also because of various romantic stories about patriotism that we've all been bred upon. The drive between hills and waterfalls was only making it worth it. There were several questions on my mind... what would she be like? Would she be wearing khadi? What kind of a freedom fighter was she? Would she have seen my favorite hero, Subhash Chandra Bose, for real or met Bhagat Singh? I had spoken to her once or twice on the phone, but then just couldn't picture her.
We were told that she runs a school for the tribal girls in this remote hill station. All set to see her, we approached the school. It was pouring cats and dogs, and, was windy as hell. We got out of the car and quickly ran towards the front porch, of what I would describe as, a small cottage.
I entered the door to see an old but shining face with bright and hopeful eyes, looking straight into mine. She sat at her white 'diwan' like a queen on her throne. The red 'bindi' only enhanced the shine of her silver hair and wrinkled, fair skin. As I had expected, she wore khadi.
I just couldn't believe my eyes. I was looking at a real hero. As the meeting progressed, I found myself getting more and more surprised and enthralled by the whole experience. She had tales to tell about everyone, freedom fighters we know and those who led a rather low profile life but did way too much.
She narrated each story like it was happening now. She remembered the details of who was wearing what and who asked what.... "Fir unhone bola ki zara chai pila do. Unko bhi light chai pasand thi...". Such was her interaction with Nehru.
Time passed in seconds. There was so much I wanted to know. She gave us her pictures to shoot. I held them, like I was holding a baby. Her precious memories were in my hands.
Just couldn't wait to meet her the next day. I waited for the sun to rise and finally, it was morning and we were there.
She asked us to visit her school. Almost thousand 'adivasi'girls complete their high school from this little but well managed school every year. As we spoke to the girls, we realized how involved she was in their training, performance and then their future.
At 94, she is trying to see her dream of free India through these girls.
Life was different here... this was her world, full of discipline, honor and dignity. A woman, who could ride a horse, fired a gun, went to jail, wore a uniform and raised a family. Indeed a true hero... to be looked up to.
She is a freedom fighter who still fights and I consider myself fortunate to have met someone like her.
About the AuthorUrmi Sahni My world...Read Morefirst published:August 04, 2006, 20:01 ISTlast updated:August 04, 2006, 20:01 IST
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With the Independence Day just around the corner, we had to come up with some stories... inspirational stories.
I happen to suggest one such story, a story of a woman who claims that she fought for the free air that our country breathes today. All hear say... but worth investigating. I was assigned the job. Pleasure was all mine. After all, it was going to be pleasant weekend in a hill station on Maharashtra-Gujarat border, called Saputara. It was also because of various romantic stories about patriotism that we've all been bred upon. The drive between hills and waterfalls was only making it worth it. There were several questions on my mind... what would she be like? Would she be wearing khadi? What kind of a freedom fighter was she? Would she have seen my favorite hero, Subhash Chandra Bose, for real or met Bhagat Singh? I had spoken to her once or twice on the phone, but then just couldn't picture her.
We were told that she runs a school for the tribal girls in this remote hill station. All set to see her, we approached the school. It was pouring cats and dogs, and, was windy as hell. We got out of the car and quickly ran towards the front porch, of what I would describe as, a small cottage.
I entered the door to see an old but shining face with bright and hopeful eyes, looking straight into mine. She sat at her white 'diwan' like a queen on her throne. The red 'bindi' only enhanced the shine of her silver hair and wrinkled, fair skin. As I had expected, she wore khadi.
I just couldn't believe my eyes. I was looking at a real hero. As the meeting progressed, I found myself getting more and more surprised and enthralled by the whole experience. She had tales to tell about everyone, freedom fighters we know and those who led a rather low profile life but did way too much.
She narrated each story like it was happening now. She remembered the details of who was wearing what and who asked what.... "Fir unhone bola ki zara chai pila do. Unko bhi light chai pasand thi...". Such was her interaction with Nehru.
Time passed in seconds. There was so much I wanted to know. She gave us her pictures to shoot. I held them, like I was holding a baby. Her precious memories were in my hands.
Just couldn't wait to meet her the next day. I waited for the sun to rise and finally, it was morning and we were there.
She asked us to visit her school. Almost thousand 'adivasi'girls complete their high school from this little but well managed school every year. As we spoke to the girls, we realized how involved she was in their training, performance and then their future.
At 94, she is trying to see her dream of free India through these girls.
Life was different here... this was her world, full of discipline, honor and dignity. A woman, who could ride a horse, fired a gun, went to jail, wore a uniform and raised a family. Indeed a true hero... to be looked up to.
She is a freedom fighter who still fights and I consider myself fortunate to have met someone like her.
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