PAVAN K VARMA

It was the almost ever-present twinkle in his eyes that let the secret out. Atalji was not a uni-dimensional politician. The man who strode like a colossus across the national stage for decades, was a man of many parts. He was far from being only obsessed with power. He had a side to him that was, in fact, transcendent of politics, or of power. He was a lover of life, a sensitive human being, a man of aesthetics who wrote poetry and loved music, a great raconteur with a great sense of humour, but also a statesman, who had the ability to carry all the people of India with him.

I got to know him well when he asked me to translate his Hindi poetry into English. The evening when we discussed this at the PM’s residence is vividly etched in my memory. When I went to see him, I knew that this was what we would discuss. At the time, I was a joint secretary in the ministry of external affairs. Atalji’s book of poems, entitled ‘Ikyavan Kavitaen’, or 51 poems, had been sent to me by his office. Colleagues in the Prime Minister’s Office had also told me about what was on the PM’s mind.

Atalji was seated in his customary chair at 7 Race Course Road when I entered. After the initial courtesies, when he made the request, I was prepared with my answer. I said that I was deeply honoured, but had three conditions. His twinkle became more luminous, and he said: “Kahiye.” I would not, I said, translate his ‘political’ poems, which were, to my mind, a trifle polemical and predictable in nature. Secondly, my focus would be on those of his poems that dealt with his personal life, his vicissitudes, his occasional existential doubts about the ultimate purpose of life, about friendships and partings, joy and grief, memories and aging. And, lastly, I said, he should not say ‘yes’ or ‘no’ right away, but see some of my translations, and then give a final confirmation. This time the twinkle was accompanied by a broad smile.”‘Manzoor hai,” he said, and shook hands with me.

The book was published by Penguin Books, and titled ’21 Poems’. I had omitted as many as 30 poems, and he never demurred. In a sense, this provides a glimpse into the greatness of the man. He wrote poetry, but there was never a sense of overriding ego attached to his creativity. He took his personal and public achievements lightly, with a sense of abandon, but without devaluing them in any way. He was an astute politician, but not addicted only to the power game. He was, in that sense, perhaps happier sitting in the opposition, than shouldering

A LEADER WHO STRODE LIKE COLOSSUS ACROSS NATIONAL STAGE FOR DECADES, ATALJI WASN’T ONLY OBSESSED WITH POWER. HE WAS A MAN OF AESTHETICS WHO WROTE POETRY AND LOVED MUSIC