Long long ago, there lived a great man called Jawaharlal Nehru with a great vision. He had a dream. He wanted to develop our country into a prosperous, powerful nation. So, he did tapasya and penance to please God, until Mother Mary appeared before him and offered to grant him a boon.
“What do you want, my child?” — Mother Mary asked.
“I want nothing for myself, Mother Mary…I want every village in the Central South Asian region to have electricity” — Nehru replied.
(Point to note: this was before 1947 and the “idea of India” did not exist at that time. It had to be called the Central South Asian region)
Mother Mary smiled and said : “Your selflessness has touched my heart. You shall become PM of the Central South Asian region. You shall bequeath the throne to your children and to their children after them. You shall be blessed with a grandson who will have great dreams about the nation you will create called India“.
Saying so, Mother Mary disappeared and Nehru dutifully got to the task of securing the throne for himself and his children. In due time, by grace of our Lord Jesus Christ, Nehru was blessed with two grandsons Rajiv and Sanjay.
But then the great man was faced with the problem of finding out which of his two grandchildren would grow up to be the great man with great dreams about India. For this, the great Nehru consulted the learned astrologers and all the wise fortune tellers of his time:
“the government on Wednesday dug out a letter written by Jawaharlal Nehru to his sister Krishna Hutheesing from the Ahmednagar Fort prison in 1944 asking her to get a “proper horoscope made by a competent person” for his grandson and former Prime Minister Rajiv Gandhi.”
The young Rajiv grew up quickly. He was taught by the best teachers, sent to the best schools. Everyone was awed by the growing prince. But alas! Empress Indira died suddenly and Rajiv was just a young man of 40 when the crown passed to him. Although his teachers had full faith in him, many in the population were skeptical. Could the young prince discharge such important duties properly?
To everyone’s delight, the young prince took to the job like a duck takes to water. Soon he was dreaming like an expert. On some days, he dreamed of a poverty free India, on other days he dreamed of an India that’s a superpower, on other days he dreamed of a country where everyone has electricity and everyone has drinking water. In his spare time, he would invent computers, television, email and jet planes.
The great man left behind a legacy of dreams for us to fufil. Now, even die hard India-haters at the Guardian are acknowledging that Piyush Goyal is fulfiling Rajiv Gandhi’s dreams. Hotasar is a small distant village of just 200 people in Rajasthan, which many thought was impossible to reach. But then, an engineer arrived with the “good news” of Rajiv G’s dream:
“When a government official first came to Hotasar in western India, the villagers shooed him away. He had come to tell them an engineer was on his way and the village would get its first electric light bulb within months. “Bring light? To Hotasar? It’s impossible,” they told him. Others had promised the same, but plans to electrify the village had repeatedly failed.”
Let’s read on:
“Vishal Singh, a government official responsible for overseeing the electrification programme in 126 villages in the wider Jaisalmer district, says: “There were no maps, landmarks or boundaries here. We went out into the field ourselves and marked out the areas that needed electrifying.”
See the power of Rajiv Gandhi’s dream. But unholy materialistic thoughts immediately creep into the minds of the villagers when they hear electricity is coming:
“On the day the electricity is scheduled to start, the Pardeshis talk about what they’ll purchase for their house. “We’ve got to buy a fridge and an air conditioner,” says Hussein.”
What a shame! They are thinking of a fridge and an AC for themselves. Have they thought about the deprived students at JNU’s School of International Studies? They have nothing.
“As the sun sets, the waiting finally comes to an end. The electrical engineer, Mojeem Khan, turns on the first light bulb. A small cheer erupts from the small crowd, and sweets are distributed.”
Yet another small crowd getting ready to leech off the resources of the planet with their electricity and their fridge and AC. Sigh..
“A set of Christmas lights comes, changing from green to blue to white. The boys run to the sockets to charge their phones.”
Oh..thank god for the Christmas lights! At least they are not wasting the precious electricity.
“The TV comes on and men gather around, flicking from channel to channel: a Punjabi comedy, a Bollywood film from the 90s, the news. “We’re going to sit here and watch TV all night,” one of the neighbours says.”
They’ll watch TV all night? Thank goodness! By morning they should know all about the rising intolerance all around them.
“Taiji, the oldest member of the household, who can’t see in the dark, happily touches the faces of the girls sat at her feet in the courtyard. “I can see you all now,” she says”
Finally, everyone who was in the dark can see the dangers of Modi’s rising intolerance. Taiji can see them all now: the dangers of Yoga, Diwali, Holi, Rakhi and of course the threats posed by Sri Sri Ravi Shankar’s festival gatherings. No wonder the proud electrical engineer says:
“Khan, the electrical engineer, stands outside the courtyard of the house. “I love my job,” he says, watching the villagers celebrate.”
Bhai, you should be proud! Rajiv Gandhi had a dream that every person should be able to see on TV the dangers of Modi’s intolerance…