Dr. B.R. Ambedkar was facing a severe financial crunch and used to buy old books from a scrap shop. Once, the scrap vendor demanded an exorbitant price. Babasaheb realized the price hike was due to his suit and trousers, so he canceled the purchase. After reaching England, he wrote a letter to a friend: "Go to that particular shop and buy the book. Seeing me in a suit and trousers that day, the vendor had asked for more money."
To ensure young Ambedkar could study, his father, Ramji, would feed the family before sunset. Afterward, he would put Bhim to sleep and sit outside counting the stars. At 2:00 AM, he would light a lantern, wake Bhim up to study, and then go to sleep himself. The oil in that lantern was strictly reserved for Bhim’s education.
In 1946, exactly 80 years ago, Mahatma Gandhi held a meeting by lantern light in Noakhali (now in Bangladesh). It was a forested area with no tents or matting; people sat on the bare dirt, and so did Gandhi. After the meeting, attendees tossed one- or two-paisa coins near the lantern as donations. There was no applause, only a somber atmosphere as the meeting concluded. Manu and Abha collected the coins. Guided by the lantern's light cutting through the forest's darkness, they returned to their lodging.
There was a strict rule: clear the accounts before going to bed. The two young women, aged 18 and 19, counted the coins and presented the tally to Gandhi. Gandhi asked, "Did you miss counting a single coin?"
Tears welled up in Manu and Abha's eyes. "Bapu, do you distrust us?"
Gandhi explained gently, "It was dark at the venue, and we were sitting in the sand. It is possible that a coin or two was left behind." The girls wept, realizing his point was entirely valid.
Though young and facing a dark forest ahead, they gathered their courage and went back with the lantern. This time, they took a fine sieve with them. They sifted the dirt and, indeed, found a few more coins. Gandhi later explained, "It is our duty to protect the money people give us from the sweat of their hard labour."
Contrast this with the Prime Minister’s birthday, where vast amounts of oil were burned. According to one estimate, oil worth 1 crore rupees (10 million) was purchased in Madhya Pradesh alone just to light lamps. No one knows whose money it was. Was it the money of hard-earned sweat? Absolutely not. Was it money from corruption? Highly likely. Was it the money of the poor? Certainly not. Yet, after the event, the poor were seen collecting the leftover mustard oil from the lamps into plastic bottles. It was a grim parallel to the Palli festival of Rupal in Gujarat, where Dalits collect ghee mixed with dirt and mud just to fill their empty stomachs.
Years ago, I heard about Chhaniya (scattered) wheat in the Bhal region. Back then, there were no tractors; wheat was separated from the husks by making bullocks tread on it in the threshing floor. The bullocks would also eat some of the wheat, and since they couldn't digest it, the grains would pass undigested in their dung. People had to follow the bullocks to collect this dung. They would wash it, separate the wheat grains, and dry them. However, due to untouchability, this wheat could not be ground at the local village mill; it had to be taken to an unfamiliar village to be milled.
In independent India, "rights" for the poor are merely an illusion of rebirth, while for the rich, looting is a privilege.
Indeed, those lamps lit on the Prime Minister’s birthday were truly lamps of blessings. In the end, that oil will still go into the stomachs of the poor—even if it is burnt oil.
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*Founder, Dalit Shakti Kendra and Navsarjan Trust, Ahmedabad
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