This article was originally published in OpentheMagazine. Thanks to D for sending it our way.
“It’s thousands of years old/their anger/thousands of years old/is
their bitterness/I am only returning their scattered words/with rhyme
and rhythm/ and you fear that/ I am spreading fire.”
———————————–
BY Rahul Pandita
26 September 2009
The Rebel
She was born into privilege and could easily have chosen the easy
life. But Anuradha Ghandy chose guns over roses to fight for the
dispossessed.
On a muggy April evening in 2008, somewhere in Mumbai, a doctor was
trying desperately to get in touch with his patient. The patient
happened to be a woman in her early 50s, who had come that morning
with high fever. The doctor had advised a few blood tests, and, as he
saw the reports, he started making frantic calls to the phone number
the patient had scribbled in her nearly illegible handwriting. The
number, he soon realised, did not exist. He was restless. The reports
indicated the presence of two deadly strains of malaria in the woman’s
bloodstream—she had to be admitted to a hospital without delay. Time
was racing by and there was no trace of her.
By the time the woman contacted the doctor again, a few days had
passed. The doctor wanted her placed under intensive care immediately.
But it was too late.
The next morning, on April 12, Anuradha Ghandy was dead. She had
suffered multiple organ failure, her immune system already weakened by
systemic sclerosis, an auto-immune disease responsible for, among
other things, her bad handwriting.
The news spread quickly among friends and followers of Anu, as she was
fondly called. Before long news had reached Indora, a Dalit basti in
Nagpur where Anu had lived for seven years. This was before her name
appeared in the Home Ministry dossiers as Janaki alias Narmada alias
Varsha – the only woman in the CPI(Maoist)’s Central Committee, the
highest decision-making body of the Naxalites. Read the rest of this entry »