It isn’t an easy task to compile a list of prominent women who have made a difference in this world. Karan Singh attempts this arduous task but with a difference: He provides a personal account of the familiar faces in different situations that give the characters a new dimension. Viewed from a distance of time and with detachment, the personalities acquire new layers; they tell their own stories and, at the same time, inform us of the tension and temperament of those times
JOURNEY OF A MAHARANI—FROM THE ROYAl PAlACE TO REFUGEE CAMPS
My mother Tara Devi, her parents and brothers were brought to Srinagar where in 1928 my father and she were married in what was then known as Chashmashahi House and is now the Raj Bhavan. Although it is unlikely that she would have had a birth certificate, I do know that when I was born in 1931 she was 20 years old. This would mean that she was born some time in 1910. She was 25 years younger than my father.
How a girl from a small village adapted herself to the grandeur and hubbub of the palace and the role of the Maharani of the largest State in India, is in itself a saga which, unfortunately, she never really recorded. However, over the years she developed into a strong and vibrant personality, whose views were not always parallel to those of my father. She was fluent in Dogri and Hindi, and had picked up a certain amount of simple English. She would engage in long conversations with Pandit Jawaharlal Nehru, Sardar Vallabhbhai Patel and other national leaders without any hesitation. On one occasion after dinner at Teen Murti House, she humourously asked Pandit Nehru, “Don’t you have any cigarettes hereIJ” He immediately jumped to his feet, offered her a cigarette from his own case and — always the perfect gentleman — lit it for her.
For me, Maaji was for many years the most loved figure in my life. She was deeply attached to me and I to her. I was with her until the age of five. At six, I was moved to a separate establishment both in Srinagar and in Jammu with two companions and British guardians, and for the next five years before I went to Doon School, lived separately from my parents. I was to meet Maaji only thrice a week for an hour or so. This was very painful for Maaji, who used to hug and kiss me when I arrived at her wing of the palace, take me into her puja room, give me flowers to offer and sacred water to drink, and let me play around with some of her nieces and nephews.
Apart from devotional stories of our epics, the Ramayana and the Mahabharata, and from the Kalyan magazine (brought out by Geeta Press, Gorakhpur), I also learnt to love the Dogra Pahari songs and bhajans that Maaji and her maids would sing on festive occasions. She taught me to be courteous and considerate to all persons regardless of their rank, and this included the staff and servants. She would tell me that if I wanted to do anything worthwhile in life I should do it for the poor, the rich will simply exploit me and then turn against me.
Thus I learnt much from this beautiful though unlettered village girl who, despite becoming a Maharani, spent her whole life trying to help the poor and the needy, including her relatives. Despite being a devout Hindu, Maaji was very advanced in some of her views regarding social customs. In 1947 she created history by including a Dalit girl among the nine who are worshipped during the sacred Navaratras. I have in my autobiography described in more detail the family situation and the role played by Maaji therein.
During World War II, Maaji worked tirelessly with the ladies Clubs which she had set up in Srinagar as well as in Jammu, and also organised a War Aid Committee. Our State forces were involved in the War, and the ladies would prepare huge quantities of clothing, pickles and other items to be sent to the front. Indeed so impressive was her work that she was given the ‘Crown of India’ award by the British, reserved for distinguished women and received earlier only by two or three Indians. My father also received an Imperial Honour the same year but that decoration was of a slightly lower category, much to our secret delight.
By a strange quirk of history, when in 1950 it had become impossible for my father and Sheikh Abdullah to work together, the Sheikh insisted that the Government of India ask both my parents to leave the State. He is believed to have said that the Maharani was more dangerous than the Maharaja, because while the latter spent most of his time in the palace surrounded by courtiers, the Maharani would go out to meet the people, particularly in the numerous refugee camps that had come up after the disastrous Partition of 1947. She, therefore, left along with my father, although both went in opposite directions, he to Mumbai and she to Himachal Pradesh. They came together once more when I suffered an accident in 1949 and was flown to the US.
My father passed away in 1961 and despite their estranged relations, Maaji adopted the Hindu custom of wearing white clothes and sleeping on the floor. Despite our remonstration, she insisted on doing this for one year along with a restricted diet, as a result of which her health deteriorated. In 1966 she suffered a stroke in Srinagar. Thereafter we moved to Delhi and I joined Indira Gandhi’s Cabinet in March 1967. By then she was seriously ill and passed away in October 1967. I rushed to Delhi and we brought her body back to Jammu where she was cremated and her ashes taken to Haridwar. A portion was preserved and placed under a Shivalingam in a samadhi which I built for her in Jammu.
THE MUSE OF BHARATANATYAM
One of the most remarkable events in the cultural history of the world was the transmutation of the somewhat derided dance tradition performed by Devadasis mainly in the Shiva temples, into the exquisitely classical Bharatanatyam, surely the greatest solo dance form in the world. Dance has always been a major motif of Indian culture. Shiva Nataraja — lord of the Cosmic Dance — is a powerful symbol of the dynamic and kinetic nature of the universe. Whether it be the stately waltz of the galaxies or the frenetic rock-and-roll of sub-atomic particles, the whole universe is constantly in motion, and this is beautifully symbolised by the figure of Shiva as Nataraja.
Over the centuries the tradition seems to have degenerated, and by the 20th century, Devadasis and their tradition were looked down upon by society. The transformation of this ancient dance into what is now known as Bharatanatyam was the lifework of Rukmini Devi Arundale. Coming from a conservative Brahmin family, she and her collaborator, E Krishna Iyer, started refining the dance, contacting the great performers such as the legendary Bala Saraswati whom I had the privilege of seeing dance. Towards the end of her life, she set up an institution in Adyar in Chennai known as Kalakshetra. This was one of the most inspiring stories of the 20th century.
The orthodox Brahmin community was outraged. Rukmini Devi and Iyer were spat upon as they walked through the streets, and there was an outcry against what she was doing. However, she persisted and finally the shining beauty of Bharatanatyam silenced all adversaries. Today the dance is being performed not only in Tamil Nadu but all over India and even far beyond its territories.
By the time I met her, Rukmini had stopped performing herself, but was still the mother figure of the entire dance movement. She was a woman of great grace. Under her guidance, Kalakshetra produced some of the most outstanding dancers of the century — Yamini Krishnamurthy, Vyayanthimala Bali, Malavika Sarukkai, Hema Malini and many others. The nation owes a debt of gratitude to Rukmini Devi for the extraordinary transformation that she was able to bring about by her courage, devotion and determination. During her later years her main concern was what would happen to Kalakshetra after she passed away. Whenever we met she would talk about her apprehension about the future of the great cultural centre. And despite the involvement of several distinguished public figures, including President R Venkataraman, her fears did come true to some extent and the institution went through a period of turbulence after she passed away. Happily, it seems that the situation has now settled down and Kalakshetra continues to play a crucial role in the growth and propagation of Bharatanatyam.
One of the innovative visions of Rukmini Devi was to present entire dramas through Bharatanatyam troupes. Traditionally, Bharatanatyam was almost always a solo dance form and continues to be so. Nonetheless, Rukmini Devi had the imagination to bring together a whole group of dancers and present full-length plays such as Abhijnana Sakuntalam and the whole story of the Ramayana in six full-length dance dramas culminating in the Pattabhishekam, the crowning of Rama on his return to Ayodhya.
THE GODDESS OF MUSIC
The Nightingale of India as she was called, MS Subbulakshmi was indeed a woman of remarkable talent and charisma. She first came to notice in north India when she played Mira in an outstanding Hindi film of that name. Her rendering of the famous Mira bhajan in that film was so exquisite and full of emotion that it almost appeared as if Mira herself was singing for the lord. Thereafter, she became an increasingly significant figure not only in south Indian music, in which she excelled, both in Tamil and Sanskrit, but also in Hindi devotional songs.
I met her first at Jawaharlal Nehru’s residence in the 1950s. His famous remark was: “Who am I, a mere Prime Minister, in the presence of the queen of music!” We were all enthralled with her rendering, and thereafter, I often met with her husband Sadasivam, who was also her manager. Over the years I had many occasions to listen to MS and each time it was a deeply moving experience. I recall that just after the war with China in 1962, when gold was being collected for the nation, she performed a concert in Delhi after which she removed all her gold bangles except one on each wrist and handed them over to Sadasivam to pass on to the Government of India.
THE BElOVED MA
India has produced a long series of saints and sages, who have through the centuries, by dint of their spiritual radiance, kept alive the traditional Indian culture despite terrible holocausts and invasions down the ages. In every age and in every part of India, men and women of spiritual power have risen to bring light and harmony into a despondent and confused society.
One such saint in the 20th century was Anandamayi Ma. Born into a Bengali family, she developed at a young age the intense desire for spiritual illumination and in the process became one of the most loved and respected gurus of our time. She exuded a radiance of maternal affection, and became very fond of me. I had several occasions to meet with her in various parts of India. I can recall one particular instance when I visited Swami Naradananda in the Dandakaranya forest and after that was scheduled to visit Anandamayi Ma whose ashram was a few miles away. Swamiji had given me lunch but when I reached Ma’s ashram she said that she had prepared a special meal for me which she fed me almost like a mother. It was a moving experience.
Soft spoken and gentle, she had a luminous presence which inspired people around the world. When she passed away in 1982, her loss was deeply mourned but her memory remains, particularly in the ashram that she constructed at Kankhal in Haridwar. It has indeed been a blessing to have come into contact with such a remarkable woman.
INTERPRETER OF SRI AUROBINDO’S PHIlOSOPHY
Blanche Rachel Mirra Alfassa was an advanced mystic in her own right, having practised with leading spiritual teachers in Europe including Max Theon, the 19th-century Polish occultist. She and her husband Paul Richard visited Pondicherry for the first time on March 29, 1914. Upon seeing Sri Aurobindo she immediately recognised him as the person who had been appearing in her visions for many years. In 1920 they came back to Pondicherry for a second visit and thereafter the Mother moved into the Sri Aurobindo Ashram and stayed there until she passed away in 1973 at the age of 95. The spiritual collaboration between Sri Aurobindo and the Mother was one of the most remarkable phenomena of the 20th century. At one point, Sri Aurobindo began to withdraw into solitude and silence and produced his truly remarkable corpus of spiritual literature, including such masterpieces as The life Divine, The Human Cycle, The Synthesis of Yoga, Essays on the Gita and, finally, the massive epic poem Savitri. During this whole period he was in seclusion and it was the Mother who acted as the link between him and the disciples, organised the Sri Aurobindo Ashram meticulously and personally oversaw all its activities. The Centre for Education and Sports was an area of her special attention and she took particular care for its development. She herself played tennis until she was 90 years old.
Along with my mother and wife, I visited Pondicherry for the first time in 1956, six years after Sri Aurobindo passed away. We had the privilege of a fairly long meeting with the Mother and at the very first meeting I came under the spell of her personality. The gravitas of her persona was undeniable. It was soothing and yet electrifying.
As I see it, the Mother acted not only as a spiritual collaborator but also as a bhashyakar or interpreter of Sri Aurobindo’s writings, explaining them to the Ashramites and the world. In fact, her luminous comments are of tremendous help in understanding the complex and profound philosophy of Sri Aurobindo. This was clearly one of the great spiritual partnerships of all time. The only parallel I can think of is St Francis and St Clara of Assisi.
KEEPER OF HER HERO’S MEMORIAl
Padmaja Naidu, or Padmasi as we called her, was the daughter of the legendary poetess Sarojini Naidu, and was closely involved in the freedom movement. Her hero was Jawaharlal Nehru with whom she had a warm relationship. At one point she was made the Governor of West Bengal, and I recall how she worked indefatigably to arrange huge quantities of blankets, tents etc in the aftermath of the 1962 war with China. She later became the President of the Indian Red Cross Society and continued to work tirelessly.
After Zakir Hussain passed away, Indira Gandhi became the Chairperson of the Jawaharlal Nehru Memorial Fund, Padmaja Naidu the Vice-Chairperson and I its Secretary. The Government of India also set up another institution, the Nehru Memorial Museum and library. It was then that Padmasi and I worked closely together in converting the Prime Minister’s House at Teen Murti into a museum and library, putting up the new library building, administering the Jawaharlal Nehru Memorial Fund, looking after Anand Bhavan, the Nehrus’ ancestral home in Allahabad that Indira Gandhi gifted to the fund in 1970 and so on.
Padmasi was a warm, vivacious and remarkably dedicated person with a tremendous sense of humour. Very often, friends and I would sit around her in Padma Kutir within the premises of Teen Murti House where the conversation covered a variety of subjects including the latest political gossip. She suffered ill health from her childhood and was constantly on medication, but she never lost her intellectual and emotional vitality. She worked devotedly for the fund in the memory of her hero, Jawaharlal Nehru, till the very end of her life, and passed away in 1975.
IN THE SHADOW OF HER BROTHER
Aunty Nan, as Vijaya lakshmi Pandit was known to the family, was a woman of steely charm and exuded the Nehru charisma. Having been born into this remarkable family, she grew up in a highly political atmosphere, went to jail several times but was always elegantly dressed. With her grey hair carefully coiffed, she made an impression wherever she went. As the first woman President of the UN General Assembly, she left her mark on history. She was also for many years the Indian High Commissioner in london. During our visits there she would invariably invite Asha (my wife) and me to dinner at Kensington Palace Gardens which she had decorated with great taste. The guests included many artistic and literary personalities, and the food was also delicious and served to perfection by her trained butlers. later, she was Governor of Maharashtra and celebrated with us when our first son was born in Mumbai in 1964. Her overpowering personality seems to have eclipsed and in some ways diminished the role of Kamala Nehru in the family, and this explains why she and Indira Gandhi were not comfortable with each other. In fact, she told me on one occasion that after Indira became the Prime Minister she had met her and asked her whether there was anything she could do. Indira frankly said, “Nothing.” And when Vijaya lakshmi asked why, she said, “Because I do not trust you.” At this point, Vijaya lakshmi said, she went around the table, kissed her niece and did not meet her again. Shrewd and intelligent as she was, she was among those remarkable women who emerged during the freedom movement and played a significant role in free India.
A WRITER AGAINST APARTHEID
Winner of the Nobel Prize in literature in 1991, Nadine Gordimer was one of the few prominent white people who had stood with the African National Congress through the long, terrible years of the apartheid. A diminutive figure, she spoke with power and emotion which was deeply impressive. I suggested to Sonia Gandhi, the Chairperson of the Jawaharlal Nehru Memorial Fund, to invite her to deliver the important annual Jawaharlal Nehru Memorial lecture. This she did, and Gordimer delivered a memorable lecture in 1995, the title of which was ‘Our Century’. She recounted the turbulent history of the South African freedom struggle and paid tribute to India’s unfailing support in their fight against apartheid.
A THAI PRINCESS OF INDIAN MEMORY
Thailand is a beautiful country which has been profoundly influenced by Indian culture over the centuries. Its Buddhist temples are unique, specially the temple of the Emerald Buddha in Bangkok. It has for many years been ruled by a dynasty that is known as the Rama dynasty. During the coronation ceremony the main puja is done by a Hindu priest.
The royal family in Thailand is extremely popular and held in high regard by the people. The younger daughter of the present monarch, King Bhumibol Adulyadej, is Princess Maha Charki Sirindhorn who has dedicated her life to the service of the people. She learnt Sanskrit under Professor Satyavrat Shastri and is a frequent visitor to India. She is deeply interested in Indian culture and asks searching questions regarding our mythology and iconography. She takes photographs and keeps notes wherever she goes. When I was delivering a lecture on Vedanta in Bangkok, she took notes of it too. I had the pleasure of dining with her recently. The conversation was entirely about the cultural links between India and Thailand.
I pointed out how many of the words used in Thai were derived from Sanskrit. For example, Chulalongkorn University is a reflection of the Sanskrit word ‘chudalankara’ meaning Shiva, who wears the crescent moon as an ornament on his forehead. Similarly the name of His Majesty Bhumibol Adulyadej is derived from ‘Bhumibol Adulyatej’ the ruler of unlimited radiance. Also on the way to the airport there is a remarkable temple complex built by a Buddhist nun for lord Shiva. Apart from that, there is a hall that contains hundreds of gilded statues of Shiva and Parvati, the like of which is yet to be seen in India.
THE VIVACIOUS ROYAlTY
Maharani Gayatri Devi of Jaipur, the Maharaja’s third wife, was the daughter of the Maharaja of Cooch Behar and his wife, Maharani Indira Devi who in turn was the daughter of Maharaja Sayajirao Gaekwad. She was one of the most beautiful women of her time, and her celebrated romance with Maharaja Jai Singh is now part of popular legend. Uncle Jai and Aunty Ayesha, as they were called, became my most favourite people. They were a part of the international polo set; uncle Jai would bring his team up to Srinagar every year where my father also had the Kashmir team, and some of the finest polo played in India was on the Srinagar polo ground. Aunty Ayesha accompanied her husband. I saw her first playing golf in Srinagar and, as she would always remind me, was surprised to see her wearing trousers and her hair cut short. She was a graceful woman and made a great impact wherever she went.
She continued to be active after uncle Jai’s death, becoming one of the main supporters of the Swatantra Party which made a substantial impact in the 1967 general elections. She herself stood for Parliament and won with an overwhelming majority. During the Emergency she was arrested and lodged in Tihar Jail with common criminals. However, she bore the insult with grace and dignity.
Soon after I had become the Minister for Tourism and Civil Aviation, she rang me to tell that the Americans were leaving their building in the Qutab Enclave which also had a bowling rink, and that before a private individual took it, the India Tourism Development Corporation (ITDC) should acquire it. I immediately put up the proposal to Indira Gandhi who promptly agreed and the Qutab Hotel became part of what was at one time the countrywide chain of ITDC hotels.
Aunty Ayesha’s last years were somewhat clouded by family disputes which, regrettably, are a common feature in princely and big business families. Nonetheless, hundreds of thousands of common people in Jaipur joined her funeral procession. She will also be remembered for setting up the Maharani Gayatri Devi Girls School, one of the finest in India.
This and the other stories in the centrespread page are excerpts from Karan Singh’s latest book, Meetings With Remarkable Women (Palimpsest Publishers)