Indira Gandhi never ceased to be mystifying during her tempestuous political career spanning close to two decades, swept incessantly by political seesaw, personal tragedy and a grim fight within which often tore her asunder, something her close confidantes revealed. Once a towering Congress leader who later became the President jocularly said that one on whom the lady beamed with a charming smile got sure that something ominous was in the offing. Even the Opposition stalwarts tasted the riddle the lady personified. Atal Bihari Vajpayee was one of them. The colossal tragedy that struck Indira Gandhi on fateful June 23 1981 brought to fore a queer trait of the iron lady of India which left Vajpayee mystified.
It was a hot day in Delhi. The mercury soared. Sanjay Gandhi came to his mother’s study where she was early in the morning. He was usual self, buoyant, confident bubbling with superabundance of energy as ever. Indira had remained worried as her younger son was reckless with a light two-seater plane on which he flew in the air. She had warned Sanjay on it repeatedly as she had been warned by many, including his wife and her special assistant R K Dhawan who tasted the danger of flying with Sanjay. But he had been in no mood to see reason as he loved to fly with it. He was to fly that morning with Madhavrao Scindia. But he changed mind and took Captain Subhash Saxena with him instead.
The information of the crash reached Indira Gandhi at 8.20 am. V P Singh, then Chief Minister of Uttar Pradesh, was waiting to meet her. He jumped up nervously as he saw her rushing past him with a wild, vacant look on her face. Singh followed her car. They reached the site of the crash. The plane lay wrecked. Bodies of the two fliers were mutilated beyond recognition. She saw her younger son’s crushed face. Her eyes were about to well up in tears when she controlled herself. She ordered the bodies to be put in an ambulance. She reached Ram Manohar Lohia Hospital.
As the news had spread around like wild fire leaders across the political spectrum rushed to the hospital to comfort the bereaved mother in her grave distress. Atal Bihari Vajpayee and Chandra Sekhar were among the opposition leaders who rushed. Indira Gandhi was wearing dark glasses evidently to shield her emotions from being reflected in her eyes. She was found standing alone. Vajpayee was moved. He sighed, came forward slowly and muttered in a deeply commiserating tone, “Indiraji. You have to show great courage in this hour of your great tragedy.” She turned her face on him. But she did not reply. Her face wore a quizzical air, as if she was wondering what to say. Astute Vajpayee thought he had committed some grave mistake with his words uttered emotionally. While he stood looking abashed she took Chandra Sekhar aside and said placidly that she had been waiting to discuss the dragging Assam turmoil with him. The situation in the northeastern State was very grim and warranted some drastic action to douse the flames, she said in a worried tone. Chandra Sekhar looked baffled, at a loss. It had not been in his wildest imagination that the mother who had just been bereaved could have talked about Assam when the mutilated body of her younger son was lying in the next room in the hospital she was in. He stammered awkwardly, “Indiraji. We will talk about it later…” But she cut in curtly. “No, no. The matter is very important. We must talk to find out a solution to the unrest. It cannot wait.” Chandra Sekhar looked dazed. He must be wondering how things could have been so. They left the hospital, stupefied.
Later in the evening of the day, when Vajpayee, Chandra Sekhar and Hemvati Nandan Bahuguna met the BJP stalwart seemed to be still turning the matter over and over in his puzzled mind. His eyebrows were puckered. He sought to explain the riddle frowningly. Either Indira Gandhi had transcended sorrow or she must be a woman made of stone, he muttered. Or had she tried to prove that she was more concerned with India’s problems than with the monumental tragedy fate struck her? He asked half to himself. He then said musingly that that was the impression she had wished to create. And this was a part of her personality, he opined.
However, many close to Indira Gandhi confided that the death of her younger son was the most soul-destroying amidst all the highs and the lows the lady, known worldwide for her steely nerves, had weathered in course of the trials and tribulations of her tumultuous public career. She was devastated, many said. She had ceased to be Indira Gandhi as she had become very fragile, very bitter, consumed as she was with a helpless grief, after what happened to her on June 23 1981, they said.
Vajpayee was mystified; the nation and the world were mystified. The mystery remains a mystery. The mystique of Indira Gandhi endures.